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lunasfics · 1 year ago

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Found Family

summary: In which Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent engage in a custody battle over a clone created from both their DNA, or, in which you get saved from a lab and gain two new families who would move mountains for you.

pairing: Bat Family x f! Reader, Supers x f! Reader

word count: 8.2k

preview

a/n: hello! IT'S FINALLY OUT WOOHOO, it's a bit long but i had a lot of fun writing it. certain characters may be a bit ooc so i do apologize as i'm still getting my footing on how to characterize certain people. let me know what you think! constructive criticism is always welcome and appreciated (just pls don't be mean lol)! i left a somewhat open-ish ending because i wanna make this into a series/universe, and will start taking requests for drabbles in this universe, depending on how this is received! - luna :)

reblogs are appreciated!

“I’m in. Robin, what’s your status?” Bruce spoke into the earpiece, swiftly moving through the shadows of the lab. It was a simple mission: get into the lab Lex Luthor had created under Gotham City, collect intel needed to take down said lab, and leave. Unfortunately, it’s never really that simple, is it?

“I’m in, making my way through the west wing, cover is still intact,” Damian muttered back.

“Good. Nightwing?”

“Just entered the center lab, heading down to the bottom level now, haven't been spotted,” Dick said, making his way down the steps, careful to remain silent.

“Good. Remember the objective. In and Out.” Bruce muttered as he continued, searching for the locked file cabinet he was looking for.

“Files located. Ready for extraction” Damian said quietly through the intercom.

“I’ve made it to the bottom level. Requesting immediate backup, there's something here you guys need to see” Dick’s voice echoed through the earpiece, “They’ve made another clone.”

Bruce stopped what he was doing, silently making his way down the hall towards the staircase Dick took around a half hour before, “I'm on my way. Damian?”

“Heading there now. Files are downloaded.”

Upon arriving at the lower level, Dick bypasses security to let them in, making sure to reactivate the lock behind them, “Look.”

He gestured to the incubation tube not far from them, inside of it stood a young woman, who looked no older than 20, wearing a black skin-tight suit, a familiar “S” symbol adorning her chest, only it was the center of another symbol, the bat symbol, with bat ears at the top and bat wings on either side of it, a dark burgundy color with gold lining along the edges. The plaque below the tube read:

Attempt 1: G6B24

Specimen 1: Superman (Identity: Unknown)

Specimen 2: Batman (Identity: Unknown)

Status: Failed - Shows excessive signs of emotional intelligence (unfit for purpose), Subject is not invulnerable, Lacks thermal vision

‘Emotional Intelligence’ you must have shown hesitation, a moral compass.

“Father… what are we going to do?” Damian asked, he was at a loss, part of him felt slightly threatened, if you were taken in, he would no longer be the only child related to Bruce by DNA, and you were older, stronger— perhaps you would take his place, the place he’d finally felt he truly belonged; however he remained silent, his past self likely would have attempted to argue against your rescue, but he’d grown, he knew deep down you deserved a chance at this life just as much as he did.

Bruce looked up at your unconscious figure, at a loss for words, you were his daughter, intentional or not, there was a part of him in you, he only hoped that part wouldn't screw you over for life. As surprised as he was, he had an obligation to you the same way he did with Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, Steph, Barbara, Duke, Damian, and every other vigilante he had taken under his wing.

His Batman instincts kicked in very quickly though, immediately refocusing himself, reading through the files, in an attempt to prepare himself for any possible scenario, he turned to Dick.

“Find all the DNA samples they have belonging to both me and Superman, we’re taking them,” he said, making sure to not hyper-focus on the thoughts flooding his mind.

“We’re not just leaving her here, are we? The plaque says ‘failed’. Who knows what could happen to her?” Dick said, he was frustrated.

Conner had gotten a chance to build a life for himself. You deserved one too, the mere thought of Bruce wanting to leave you there angered him.

“She’s coming with us. Damian, watch the door, Dick, find the samples," Bruce said gruffly, moving to the tube, bypassing the database to open it, without setting off any system safeguards. He reached into his utility belt and pulled out his shard of kryptonite, just in case it was needed to neutralize you.

The tube opened slowly, a swoosh sound filling the air as the cold fog escaped the tube, spilling into the air, your eyes fluttering open as you looked around, your eyes focusing on him.

You flew at him, full speed, pushing him against the wall with a thud, knocking the wind out of him, your eyes boring into his, glowing red, just as you were about to terminate him with your heat vision, he uttered the safe word he had seen in your file.

“Blue Pineapple” he grunted out, the red in your eyes fading away instantly, as you stared at him with wide eyes. You backed away slowly, lowering yourself to the floor. Your eyes fixed on him once again.

You recognized him from your programming, the man whose combat skills were engraved into your mind.

“Batman?”

Dick and Damian rushed over, making sure Bruce was okay. He was fine.

Dick turned to you, holding out his hand, “Come with me. We need to get you out of here, you aren’t safe here.”

You stared at him, your eyes narrowing, “Why should I trust you?”

Dick sighed, Those damn Wayne genetics, he kept his hand extended to you, “Because we’re helping you escape, if you come with us, you can meet Superman, be a hero just like him and Batman, you could actually see the world” he promised.

"I know what the world looks like." you stated bluntly.

He sighed, his hand not wavering, "But have you ever experienced it? Let us show you what that's like. You can have a life."

You thought for a moment, before letting out a small grunt, nodding at him and taking his hand, allowing them to lead you out of the lab grounds seemingly undetected.

When you stepped out, you stopped, eyes completely transfixed on the brilliant night sky. Blends of blues and purples and grays danced together to make the beautiful endless abyss above you. You knew every color there was. You knew everything, but at the same time you really didn't. You stared up at the stars, you knew how they came to be, you knew every scientific explanation there was yet seeing them… it made you feel a way you couldn’t explain.

They led you to the batmobile, situating you in the back seat with Damian, starting the drive to the Batcave. Bruce dialed Clark’s number into the keypad, it rang twice before he picked up.

“Hello?”

“Meet me in the Batcave. It’s urgent. Bring Conner.”

“What’s going o-”

He hung up.

Dick covered his mouth to hide his snicker, “So, Bruce, you and Clark have an official love child now, right? What will Lois think?” he feigned concern, placing the back of his hand over his forehead, committing to the drama, “Oh, how scandalous, I mean really, the shame! I can already see the headlines ‘Billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne turned common whore after breaking up happy metropolis family’”

Damian covered his laugh with a cough.

You looked at the three of them, utterly confused, still processing what was going on.

Bruce huffed, shooting them both a glare, “Dick, be mature.”

Dick smiled, “I can't help myself, just wait til Jason finds out.” He smiled in excitement, as they pulled into the side entrance of the Batcave.

Bruce let out a deep, tired sigh.

Clark sat in silence in the Batcave, Conner standing to his left, his eyes wide as he stared at you, possessing some features belonging to both he and Bruce, and other features that seemed to be entirely your own.

You stared back, that same stoic nature radiating off of you that radiates off the Batman, however, he noted the defensive look in your eyes, one so similar to the one he saw in Conner when he first met him. He eyed your suit, noting the familiar “S” symbol, only it was a burgundy color, a rather interesting combination of the Batman and Superman emblems, and he was utterly confused.

He looked over at Bruce, still in his bat suit, his cowl pulled off, “Bruce, what the hell is going on?”

“I had to call you here because Luthor decided to create another clone. I did the DNA test, Clark, she’s a combination of both our DNA” Bruce looked at him, Dick and Damian standing to his right. It was silent for a moment, you felt like a guinea pig, the way they all stared at you. It made you angry.

Conner was the first to speak, stepping forward before opening his mouth, choosing his words carefully, “What’s your name?”

You responded immediately, it felt automatic. “Experiment attempt number one. Code G6B24. I was made to be the future killer of the Batman and the Kriptonian.”

He nodded slowly, “I’m a clone too, and Clark took me in— well, he took me in eventually— that’s besides the point. He showed me how to become my own person, we can help you do that too.”

You looked at him, eyes softening ever so slightly, but you kept your guard up like your Batman programming taught you to. “I was made to be a killer, if I don’t do what I was made to do, what am I worth?” you said quietly, voice unwavering.

Damian watched you, your words striking him in a way he hadn't expected them to, he understood what you were saying all too well.

Bruce decided to speak up next, “You were created, it’s not your fault what their intentions were when they did so. What you become from here on out is your choice.”

You stayed silent, eyes darting around the room—What is this feeling? Vulnerability? You knew it by definition, like you did most other feelings, but feeling them… it was different.

Dick noted the way you seemed overwhelmed, he approached you slowly, pulling up two chairs, motioning for you to sit, you chose to remain standing until he sat down first.

“You know, we trust you, we want to figure out a way for you to become the best you can be. On your terms” he said, offering you a small smile.

You looked around, the others nodded in agreement, “I was made to be only the best parts of you” you said, your gaze focusing on Clark and Bruce, they both put their best qualities forward to help others, how could you use those same qualities to destroy that?

“I… don’t want to be a killer. They said I was too… human. I thought I’d failed them.”

Damian decided to step forward, “You didn’t fail anyone, you are meant for greater things. You haven't killed anyone, you can choose your path. If the path you choose is the Robin mantle... I am willing to work with that.”

At this, the other men in the room turned to look at him, Clark and Conner were slack-jawed, this was the same kid who fought Tim tooth and nail over this mantle. The same mantle he was just… willing to give you?

Meanwhile Dick had a proud smile on his face, you thought you saw a small tear in his eye.

Bruce’s face seemed unreadable, however, you took notice of the way the corners of his lips turned up for a split second. before reverting back to their natural state.

You weren’t sure what to say, again, you knew what this mantle was, by definition. The reality was you had no sense of what it meant, the weight it carried. And you knew that.

“Thank you, but I feel like that title isn’t mine to take. I think I need to… become something that's true to who I am, whatever that may be.”

Bruce looked at you, the corner of his lip barely twitching up into a smile, a smile so subtle that only someone of your… background would notice, an attempt of his towards getting you more comfortable, “We should start with a name.”

You looked at Conner, he gave you an encouraging smile.

“Like I chose Conner, so now I’m Conner Kent,” he said with a small shrug, “You can choose whatever you want.”

“I see,” you thought for a moment, “I like Y/n.”

Clark smiled, standing up and clapping his hands together, “Great! Y/n Kent, has a nice ring to it.”

“Wayne.”

He turned towards Bruce, eyes narrowing slightly, “Kent.”

“Wayne.”

This time Conner spoke, “Kent.”

The three men stared at each other, arms crossed mirroring each-other’s glares.

Dick cut in, “How about Grayson?”

“No.” came their simultaneous response.

Dick frowned, slumping in the seat next to yours, “Jeez.”

Damian spoke next, “I suppose Al Ghul is off the table…”

Dick snorted, breaking out into a fit of laughter, you grinned softly at the sounds of his laughter, it reminded you of a windshield wiper.

Conner sighed, “Fine, what about Wayne-Kent?”

Bruce huffed, “I suppose.”

Clark nodded, the smile returning to his face as he turned to you, “Y/n Wayne-Kent”

You nodded, “I like it.”

Dick could help but laugh from beside you, “It's like I'm watching reality tv. Love me some baby mama drama.”

Clark opened his mouth to speak and closed it, before sighing and looking at Bruce, who just pinched the bridge of his nose.

Conner chuckled at the sight, turning to Damian, who’s lip quirked up in amusement.

Bruce looked up, his attention directed towards you, “Y/n, you can stay here for the night, I’ve asked Alfred to set up a room for you. Clark, Conner, come by tomorrow with Lois and Jon, I’ve called the others to come by as well, we’ll get everything situated tomorrow. For now, get some rest.”

Everyone nodded, Clark and Conner heading to the exit of the cave, Damian, Dick and Bruce leading you to the room that was prepared for you.

Dick brought you a sweater and some sweatpants to change into, closing the door with a soft, “Goodnight, kiddo.”

You changed in silence, slowly getting under the covers and drifting off to sleep, marking the start of your new life. Tomorrow would be an interesting day.

You woke up the next morning, to a soft knock on the door, your super hearing picking it up better than you would have liked. You opened the door, revealing an older man you hadn’t seen before. He smiled softly, giving you an instantaneous sense of comfort you couldn’t explain.

“Hello Miss Y/n. My name is Alfred, I am the butler,” he greeted you, handing you a folded set of clothes, “Master Kent chose these for you, however if they are not to your liking, do let me know.”

“They’re fine…Thank you.”

He smiled warmly, the kind old man giving you a nod, “Once you've changed, do come down, I’ve prepared breakfast. The other members of the family will arrive soon to meet you.”

You gave him a short nod, he smiled again, your demeanor reminding him of the young Bruce he’d looked after all those years ago. He shut your door softly before retreating down the staircase, leaving you in your room to change.

You picked up the small note that rested at the top of the pile, reading it over.

Comfortable, Practical, and cool. Hope you like it. - Conner

You looked down at the neatly folded clothes, unfolding a black long sleeve turtleneck shirt, the material was thick but breathable, you slipped it on with ease, the foreign material soft against your skin, you appreciated that it didn’t suffocate you.

You reached for the pants next, dark gray cargo pants, these were thicker, and the had an overwhelming amount of pockets. You slipped them on before slipping on the boots that were at the bottom of the stack and exiting the room, going down the staircase.

Upon entering the dining room, you were met with Bruce sitting at the head of the table, reading the paper calmly eating his pancakes, to his right sat Dick chatting excitedly to the boy next to him, who smiled at him as he listened, he was a slender boy with black hair who looked a bit younger than Dick. Then there was Alred, calmly enjoying his breakfast. Finally there was Damian on the other side of Bruce, leaving an empty seat between Damian and Alred. You sat down, the pale boy noticing you first.

Bruce looked up, “Tim, this is Y/n.”

“Hello.” You sat up awkwardly. One thing you never learned was how to navigate social interactions.

He studied you for a moment, offering you a small smile, “I’m Tim.”

You gave a nod, returning his smile with a smaller one of your own.

“She knows, by the way.” Dick chimed in.

His eyes widened, was that why you were there?

“How?”

All eyes are on you. You opened your mouth to speak but Damian spoke first.

“She’s a clone. Father will explain everything when everyone else arrives so as to not waste time, until then, hold on to your childish curiosity. I’d like to enjoy my breakfast.”

Dick nodded, “She was literally made for this shit.”

“Watch your language Master Dick, it is deplorable to speak in such a way at the table, much less in the presence of a lady.”

Dick blushed, “Sorry Alfred.”

Bruce simply gave a nod.

Tim slumped back in his seat, wanting to ask you questions about your abilities, your earliest memories, who were you a clone of, how your programming worked, the boy was itching to know it all.

Breakfast passed by relatively quickly after that, you weren’t bombarded with questions, much to your relief. Alfred kindly asked you how you slept to which you replied that you slept well. The sound of casual conversation and glassware scraping together filling the room. You enjoyed observing the atmosphere.

Clark and Conner were the first to arrive at the manor, greeting you happily, with them was a woman and a younger boy, who immediately went to sit by Damian.

Clark brought them over to you, the woman smiled warmly at you. It made you feel safe.

She held your hand in hers, “My name is Lois,” her voice was kind, genuine. You noted how she carried herself. Strong, secure, honest.

Clark was quick to bring Jon over, excited to introduce him, “This is my son, Jon.”

“Hi!” he beamed at you, you smiled, he was cute. Cheerful as he smiled brightly at you.

“Hello, my name is Y/n.” you greeted the two, who smiled at you.

Conner was the next to approach, “Did you like the clothes? I picked them out cause it was all I used to wear, but who knows, you may want something more… fashionable.”

You smiled softly, “They're nice, thank you.”

“On that note actually,” Clark said, “I was thinking we can take you shopping later, Bruce and I can pay.”

Bruce deadpanned, “That’s a joke, right?”

He smiled, “Of course, you’re paying for everything.”

“Sounds about right.”

Chatter filled the room not long after, Jon and Damian catching up on the couch while Conner and Tim started a conversation of their own.

The next people to arrive were three young women, blonde, brunette, and red hair. They had arrived together.

The blonde spoke first, “Why'd you call us here Bruce? We had planned for brunch.” She bitterly narrowed her eyes at him, the brunette behind her giving a short nod of agreement.

Bruce sighed, “We’re waiting on Jason. He’s late.”

“As always.” The redhead said with a sigh, though you could see she wasn't actually upset.

The blonde girl turned to you first smiling, “I’m Stephanie, but call me Steph. I’m assuming you’ll be joining our vigilante posse.” She seemed funny, and kind, like she truly cared for those around her.

“Somewhat, I don’t really know. I’m Y/n.” You said bluntly.

“Pretty name.” She smiled, gesturing to the red haired woman behind her, “This is Barbara, but she's really just Babs.” She then gestured to the brunette, “That’s Cass. She’s lovely.”

You looked at them and nodded, “It’s nice to meet you.”

Barbara smiled warmly at you, “You too, I’m so glad there’ll be another girl around, we can always use more company.” She smiled at you so kindly, despite having only just met you. Her voice was sweet, like honey.

Cass smiled softly at you, “Come to brunch with us later. Or, lunch, now since Jason is holding us up.”

You nodded your lip quirking up into a small smile, “I’d enjoy that.”

Truthfully, you didn't know what the fuck brunch was. But she said lunch and that you knew. You'd find out about brunch later.

Then, as if on cue, the man in question arrived, walking through the door, slipping off his brown jacket and tossing it on the couch. He was tall, with a stocky frame, jet black hair with a white streak on the front.

“This better be good.”

Tim mumbled, “Finally”

“Miss me Timmy?”

“Quite the contrary.”

The one called Jason laughed before giving him a small nudge, to which Tim swatted his hand away.

His eyes fixed on you, then on Bruce.

“Dude, seriously? Another one? You have a problem man. You’d think you would’ve stopped after me.”

Bruce stood up, “Jason, sit down. Now that you’re all here I wanted to introduce you to Y/n. She’s a clone, made from both mine, and Clark’s DNA.”

“Holy shit, man.”

“Jason, will you shut up?”

“Never.”

“As I was saying, she’ll be here in the manor for the time being, I’ll be training her and assessing her combat technique.”

“Hold on,” Clark interjected, “She should come with us, she needs to get the hang of her powers.”

“Clark, I have a state of the art training area in the cave.”

“So? We’re supers, all we need is an open field.”

“We need to assess her combat skills, and also assess the extent of her powers. She isn’t invulnerable. We need to prioritize getting to the bottom of that.”

Clark huffed but nodded, understanding the full extent of your abilities was vital in actually training you.

“It’s like I’m watching a custody battle.” muttered Steph, Barbara laughing quietly beside her.

“Wait- So Y/n is basically if you and Clark had a baby?” Tim gawked at them, his eyes shifting from Bruce to Clark, to you. When his eyes landed on you, he fired questions like he was on a time limit.

“How do Bruce’s genetics affect your abilities? Are you immune to kryptonite and invulnerable? How does your thermal vision work? Enhanced strength? Can you fly? Can you fly as fast as Superman? Do you have combat training? How do y-”

Conner smacked a hand over his mouth, leading him back to his seat, “Lets try not to overwhelm her with the questions.” He chuckled.

Tim nodded, looking up at you, “Sorry, Y/n.”

“That’s okay. To answer your questions, his genetics don’t necessarily have a huge impact on any of my abilities, I was created with every available video of Batman fighting embedded into my mind, and the combat skills were engraved in my memory, I should be able to replicate his fighting style to a tee. I’m not invulnerable, but in theory, the stealth I was programmed with allows me to stay agile enough that I shouldn’t often get hurt. I don't have thermal vision, but I do have laser vision, enhanced strength, and flight, although I haven’t tested how fast I actually can fly. And like I said, my combat training is essentially the combat footage uploaded into my mind.”

Tim had nodded, eyes trained on yours in complete interest as you answered each question, occasionally jotting something down on the notes app of his phone.

Lois narrowed her eyes slightly at both Bruce and Clark, “I do hope you’re factoring in giving her the opportunity to build an actual social life. Maybe get her enrolled in school.”

“She has doctorate-level information on several different topics stored into her mind, as well as fluency in 8 languages. I think she’ll be fine, Lois,” Bruce replied.

She rolled her eyes, “Okay, so school’s not necessary, what about building a social life for herself? That’s important.”

“There’s Young Justice,” Conner said, “I figured she’d join.”

Tim nodded in agreement, “I can help her get situated.”

“Where will I stay?” you asked, you didn’t particularly enjoy how they were all discussing you as if you weren't there, but there honestly wasn’t much you could do.

“You can stay at the manor, or you can stay with the team, but it'd be best if you lived here in the Manor.” Bruce replied.

“Why isn’t Metropolis an option?” Clark muttered.

“Because it’s more practical to have her here in Gotham, living with Tim will make it easier to adjust to the team.”

“I want time with her, Bruce.”

“You’ll get it. We’ll have her assessed, then three times a week she’ll train and get a hold of her powers with you.”

Clark nodded, satisfied with that answer.

Lois spoke again, turning to you, “Y/n, how does that sound to you?”

You blinked. “It sounds fine. My super hearing allows me to hear every conversation proficiently.”

She chuckled softly, “It’s a figure of speech sweetheart, I meant if you’re okay with everything that was said, you’ve been a bit quiet.”

You felt your face grow hot, “Oh. Yeah, I’m okay with it.”

Clark gave you a fond smile.

Bruce looked at you and smiled softly, a barely noticeable one, but a smile nonetheless.

The bulk of the conversation was over. The people in the room falling into easy conversation with one another, you look around, not sure what to do. That is until Jason approaches you, a kind smile on his face.

“Hey Y/n, I’m Jason, I’ll be honest, you probably won't see me too often cause I can barely stand being around Bruce, but… if he’s ever a dick, call me and I’ll either punch him for you and take you somewhere he’s not.” he grinned, “Or both.”

You laughed softly, “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

He nodded, “I’ll be raiding the kitchen, but if anyone asks, I left.” He shoots you a grin before slipping away.

It’s not long after that when Jon approaches you, Damian by his side, he shoots you a toothy grin, “So, you’re like, my sister now, right?”

You’re not sure how to respond, but you feel a puddle of warmth pooling in your heart, it’s nice. You smile at him softly, “I suppose so.”

He grins, “And that would also make you Damian’s sister. right?”

“I suppose so.”

“See Damian, we’re blood brothers by extension.”

“Jon, that is the most imbecilic logic I’ve ever encountered. Just because Y/n is both my blood and yours doesn’t mean–”

“Blood brothers!” He had shouted cheerfully, before walking away and over to Lois to inform her of the good news.

Damian sighed, though you took notice of the soft smile that flashed across his face, you concluded that he cared for him.

A lot of people in this family– Bruce’s family specifically, tend to hide affection, despite the fact that it is apparent to you that they feel it. You decide not to focus on it, people are complicated.

You chat a bit with various people in the room, Lois telling you that you’re always welcome to visit whenever you’d like, Barbara talking to you about how her work as Oracle, Steph telling you all about the other vigilantes you’ll probably end up crossing paths with. Tim and Conner sat by you, telling you all about the team and the people you’ll meet once all your training is done.

Slowly, people start to leave, you saw Jason slip out the front door first, sending you a wink. Dick left not long after, needing to return to his responsibilities in Bludhaven, making sure to tell you you’re always welcome to visit him over there. Then Clark left with Lois, Jon, and Conner, leaving the residents of the manor plus, Cass, Steph and Barbara.

Damian and Tim had retreated to their rooms, while Alfred busied himself with household chores, Bruce stood up, approaching you before saying, “Did you still want to go shopping? You’ll need training clothes.”

You nodded, “Yes, please.”

Steph perked up, rushing towards the two of you, “Oh, we have to come.”

“Steph, you go shopping every week. With my card.”

Barbara chimed in, “It’s not about that Bruce, you have a terrible fashion sense. We can’t let you impose that onto Y/n.”

Cass nodded in agreement.

“We’re just buying training clothes.”

“She can’t wear training clothes in her daily life,” Steph rolled her eyes, “She needs a wardrobe.”

You smiled, “I would like a wardrobe.”

“See?”

Bruce sighed but nodded, “Let's go then.”

Steph cheered while Barbara and Cass high-fived behind her, it was an amusing site.

When you arrived at the mall, Steph immediately linked arms with you, dragging you around to her favorite stores, paying no mind to your super strength potentially being able to accidentally break her arm. It caught you off guard, not only the physical display of affection, but the trust.

Again, you felt that soft puddle of warmth pool in your chest. You could get used to that.

You had gotten to know Barbara and Cass fairly well during the trip as well, Barbara was sweet, she and Steph made you laugh more than you thought you could. Cass and you got along well too, she picked out the clothes you liked the most, always nodding in approval when you would try anything on, a soft smile on her face. The three of them opened their group up to you so quickly, it had surprised you, you felt that with their company you were better able to navigate finding yourself.

The four of you hadn’t paid much mind to Bruce trailing behind you as you went from store to store, not that he minded. He held a fond smile as he observed the four of you giggling, talking, and having a good time.

He knew his focus on training was important, but he also knew Lois was right (not that he’d admit that to anyone), you needed a social life too. And he knew your heightened emotional intelligence would surely allow you to obtain that, you just needed to blossom, and allow yourself to break free of the restraints you put on yourself.

He’d lost count of how many times he had swiped his card that day, at some point he had decided to just start waiting by the front, once you guys were ready, he’d walk over, swipe his card, and you guys would move on to the next shop. He wouldn't say this to anyone, but he enjoyed doing things like this, taking care of the people he cares about.

The last store you had gone to was WayneTech, it was Bruce’s idea. You needed a phone in order to keep everyone’s contacts. So they brought you there where you got the latest model of their cell phone line, it was sleek and thin. You picked out a case and you got a screen protector. Bruce had told you that once you got to the Batcave he’d input league contacts, safety features, as well as league-level security settings.

By the end of the trip it was early in the evening, Bruce had his arms absolutely filled with shopping bags, and what he couldn’t carry was carried by you and Steph. The five of you stepped out into the parking lot, the sun setting, casting a deep orange hue on the parking lot. You took in the image in front of you, you didn’t know suns could set so beautifully.

The ride home was nice, the car was filled with the soft chatter of the four of you, Bruce didn’t feel the need to listen in. The soft music playing on the stereo as a background was a nice addition to the atmosphere.

When you’d arrived at the manor, the girls had bid you goodbye, but not before making sure they had your number to add you to their group chat. You were warned by Steph that Cass’s meme game could not be beat. You were slightly confused but nodded, a happy smile on your face. They each gave you a hug before getting in their cars and heading off.

The walk into the manor was silent, but not awkward, mainly the two of you taking armfuls of bags up to your room.

As he shut the door, Bruce turned to you, “It’s not too late, if you want, we could start out on some training.”

You nodded, going into your room to change, “I’ll be down there in a bit.”

He nodded, walking away to change as well.

You entered the Batcave shortly after, comfortable in your black sweatpants, and a black long sleeve athletic shirt. Now, having a better opportunity to take it all in, it was massive. You looked to your left to see Damian sparring with Tim in one of the further training areas. You walked over to Bruce, he gave you a small smile, leading you to the second training area by Tim and Damian, who by now had stopped sparring, in favor of observing your skill.

“You can replicate my fighting style to a tee, right?”

You nodded.

“Let’s see it.”

You charged first, making sure to suppress your strength, your movements swift and calculated, landing a fast right kick to his abdomen. He sidestepped, landing a swift punch to your side. You kept attempting attacks on eachother, each one dodging the other flawlessly.

Tim and Damian watched in awe as the two of you gracefully moved, as if you were dancing. This went on for several minutes, until you attempted a fast left kick to his side, which he caught, using as leverage to flip you over on your back.

Your limbs ached, you looked up at him, “How did you do that?”

He held a hand out to help you up, “I’m not as fast with my left kicks as I am with my right ones. My weaknesses are your weaknesses.”

You nodded. Made sense.

“You have good technique, and you replicate my fighting perfectly, but that’s all it is. A replication. You need to make it your own. Adapt it in accordance with your abilities, you can’t do that now because Clark hasn’t trained you, but in time you will.”

You nodded, your chest swelling with pride at his compliment, you knew after your training with Clark you would be able to better adjust your fighting style.

Damian walked over to you, “Y/n. I’d like to spar, you’ve proven to be a worthy opponent.”

You nodded, it would be good to spar with someone with a different fighting style. Tim sat down to the side, perfectly content with just observing for now, like earlier, he occasionally jotted down some notes on his phone. You decided you didn’t mind it. It was endearing.

This time, Damian charged first, landing a swift right kick to your ribs, you turned and landed a hard kick to his chest, sending him back, before he flipped and caught himself, running towards you again. His smaller frame provided him with an advantage as he jumped onto your shoulders, before he could land his blow, you flipped your body, sending him to the floor, landing on his back with a thud. You crouched over him, extending your hand.

“You okay?”

“Fine.” he took your hand, getting up to his feet, you gave him a soft smile, which he returned, giving you a nod of approval. He, like Bruce, didn’t often use his words, but you were able to discern their intentions just fine.

Bruce then led you to a machine he had in the cave, where it analyzed your genetics in comparison to Clark’s, he had determined you were missing the genetic composition that happened to be the main source of invulnerability, therefore the reason you were the way you were. You are unfortunately still weak when exposed to kryptonite.

You were tired by the end of the night. You felt you had bonded with Damian, he had asked you to spar with him another time, to which you agreed.

The next day, Bruce had sent you over to Smallville, where Clark had decided on training you, ‘A good old fashioned open field’ were his exact words.

He made sure to send you wearing your original suit, not knowing how fast you would be flying, just in case, only you didn’t like it, so you opted to wear some sweats over the suit.

And there you were, floating about 300 feet in the air with him, as he explained the basics of flying.

“You want to create your own leverage, using your flight, you should be able to do this.” He bent one leg, tilting to the right as he effortlessly glided in that direction, he repeated the action only now going in the opposite direction.

You nodded, imitating his movements, gliding from side to side before stopping and looking at him. He smiled brightly at you, “You’re doing great, kid. There was never a point where you didn’t have powers, so this should be easy. Now, we’ll test your speed.”

You nodded, “How are we doing that?”

He pulled out a stopwatch, “I’m going to wait here while you fly to Gotham and back. You know the route?”

You nodded.

“Okay… and…. Go!”

You immediately shot forward, a slightly bumpy start but your body adapted immediately, you felt the wind whip through your hair, and a smile spread across your face as you made a U-turn around Gotham, making it back to Clark in seconds.

“2.6 seconds. That’s good.” He smiled at you.

You went on like that for the next few hours, him giving you encouraging words of advice, and you gained better control over your abilities, him providing you with tips he learned over the years. For that last hour, Jon and Conner joined the two of you, the four of you eventually just playing air tag until Martha and Lois called you in for dinner.

They insisted you stay for dinner, and you had no mind to refuse, spending time with them was nice. Jon insisted he sat next to you at dinner, excitedly talking your ear off about whatever he’d gotten to that day, and sharing his favorite stories about Damian with you. He acts like he doesn't like people, but he’s got a soft spot for a lot of us, were his exact words. You honestly completely agreed, you smiled at him as he continued talking.

That day you’d gotten to know Martha and Jonanthan Kent, who insisted you called them Ma and Pa. They instantly coddled you as if they’d known you since birth, though, in a way, that is technically the case.

They didn't let you leave empty handed, sending you off with tupper-ware filled with leftovers, cookies and pie. You thanked them for their hospitality and headed back to the manor.

The next few months were mainly doing morning and evening training with Bruce, occasionally Dick would stop by to train with you, always telling you he was proud of your improvement, which never failed to make you glow just a little brighter with pride. He’d begun a tradition where he would treat you to a burger after training, or whatever it was you were craving. He said that it was his goal to get you to try every fast food joint in Gotham, deciding that it was just an essential part of living there. You quickly decided you hated fast food, but never said anything because that wasn’t at all what mattered to you, what mattered to you was the bond you were creating with your older brother.

Your relationship with Bruce wasn’t perfect. There were times you saw how focused he was on his mission, neglecting the feelings of those around him, he could be an asshole. And with you still navigating your emotions, you’d get angry and yell, and so would he. If you saw him brushing off Damian, or Tim, one look at the crestfallen expressions on their faces was enough to get you angry. You shouldn’t have been surprised, truthfully, you weren’t. You were too similar. You were just fortunate enough to be surrounded by people early on who could convince you to let them in.

Regardless of the imperfections between you and Bruce, you knew he cared. He always showed it with the small smile he’d give you as he held up two tickets to the movie you had wanted to see. Or in the way he’d lure everyone into the living room with snacks for a movie night. Or how he’d try his best to always express to you that you were doing well. That you were enough, and that you deserved to be there.

You’d grown closer with Tim, too, always willing to help him with his assignments (not that he often needed it, but on the rare occasions his sleep deprived self couldn’t wrap his head around a problem). You’d often go to him when you needed help figuring something out on your phone, to which he would offer a simple solution you hadn’t seen before.

Tim was kind, he showed he cared for you by fixing things, when you cracked your screen protector by accidentally tapping it too hard, he made you a new one that could withstand the force of a bullet. He learned to confide in you over time, telling you about Bernard, expressing his worries to you about whether or not he’s good enough. You’d always tell him he was more than good enough.

Damian had taken to calling you ‘sister’, often challenging and teasing you when he could, you’d developed a relationship where he’d go to you for company. You’d sit in the garden and take in the life around you, while he sat a few feet away and drew it.

Once, he drew you while you weren’t looking, when he finished, he handed it to you without a word and walked away. In the bottom right corner you read ‘Y/n Wayne-Kent’ in neat handwriting, just below that, ‘sister’. That was the first time he’d used that word for you. Your heart swelled.

You continued seeing Steph, Barbara, and Cass, regularly having lunch with them and talking with them on the phone. Barbara, or as you now called her, Babs, was always there to guide you when you needed it, she’d often send you small gifts from time to time, like jewelry that reminded her of you.

Cass and you would often find the most peaceful company in each other. She would listen to you talk about all the things you'd been learning, telling you about her own experience adjusting to a new life.

Steph and you bonded over poorly written hallmark movies, she always giggled madly when you would point out plot inconsistencies, wearing the most confused expression she had ever seen on a person, you didn’t understand why at first, you would just state facts, but you always enjoyed the time with her. She always says you guys should start a podcast, and you always agree. You hope she never asks you what a podcast is... because you genuinely didn't know.

True to his word, you didn’t see Jason often, but there were a few instances where you felt particularly suffocated by Bruce’s training that you took him up on his offer to take you somewhere he wasn’t. Those moments were... nice. Every time, he would bring food, and take you to his apartment, where you talked about books and he introduced you to some of his favorite movies. You didn’t know why he and Bruce didn’t get along, but you chose not to pry.

Alfred had taken a liking to you instantly, he enjoyed giving you etiquette lessons, and would bake all kinds of scones and cookies for you to try. His humor was at times very dry and sarcastic, which never failed to make you laugh. He taught you how to bake once, finding you were exceptionally good at it, ‘Miss Y/n, I think we’ve found your natural talent’. You hadn’t expected to be good at it, but Alfred said you were phenomenal.

You’d also train with Clark 3 times a week, getting even closer with the Kents, integrating yourself in both families. It was interesting being part of two very different families. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Clark had shown you a lot about your powers, but it was never just training. It had become a necessity for the two of you to fly to some famous landmark and have lunch together, before flying back to Smallville for more training.

Clark was constantly trying his best for you, he still had his regrets from his initial relationship with Conner, and although he was forgiven and their relationship was rebuilt, he knew he lost time. And he absolutely refused to repeat that and hurt someone else who didn’t deserve it.

You always stayed for dinner, you found that you could never say no to Jon, the one time you tried was awful, you felt so bad that you went back the next day and took him shopping. With Bruce's card, duh.

Jon was stuck to you like glue whenever you were over. He always insisted on sitting by you and talking to you about whatever he’d been up to. He flew around with you a lot, you guys would play games that he taught you how to play. Your favorite moments were when he and Damian would allow you in to watch them play video games because ‘How do you not know how to play video games? That’s just wrong. We’ll teach you.’

Conner had spent more and more time with you as well, telling you about a lot of social cues, the importance of boundaries, etc. He was determined to help you adjust in every way he could, he shared his experiences with you when he first started working in teams. You learned a lot from him, he was very affectionate with you, but in that awkward-older-brother way. He’d give you a soft pat on the back and a smile, he knew you’d do just fine.

Lois became your role model, you truly admired her. She was strong, outspoken, confident. She helped you not be afraid of forming your own opinions and voicing them. One time she saw you yell at Bruce over something he’d done, and all she could do was smile proudly.

These people whose lives you just appeared in one day, very quickly became your family. Every day you were reminded of how lucky you were to have come to care for them as much as you do. Bonding with them was nice, and you very quickly understood the appeal of having family.

These are people who care for you unconditionally, simply because they want to. Because every moment that they spend with you, they choose to.

And just like that, you were ready to meet the team. You had learned to combine your combat skills with your powers, if you need to, you can fight in mid air. You’d learned to incorporate your abilities into your technique to enhance your own personal style. And it felt amazing.

You knew every possible way to deliver an effective, non-lethal blow. Of course, you needed a suit. Bruce offered to enhance the one you had worn the day they rescued you, but you wanted a new one. To you, that suit represented what you were created to be, and that is not who you are. You wanted something true to yourself, and he understood and wholeheartedly supported you. Damian helped you make a sketch, and together you’d designed the perfect representation of you. And you became Eclipse. The alignment of two heroes, though unintentional, created a whole new hero. You.

Taglist- @one-green-frog @bonniecat @minnieearsposts @chickentenderx @murkyponds @loserwithnofriends @ilikefanfics4 @fangirlvibez @instantplaiddream @lovelywritersgarden @calicocat45 @strawberrycreamh @sappynappysworld @zyuuuu @allycat4458 @lovelypitasworld @batfamlover @pterodactyl-hater @american-idiot21 @starlets-things @th1s-b1tch-1s-dead @dontgivemeyourname @normal-internet-user @sillyfinn @lostgirlsstuff @llvmakk @princess76179 @vanessa-boo @1lellykins @blitzythefanvergentpitsterthings @samibrewss @pickyblue12 @thetiredtoad0-0 @lacklustertrashbag (I'm not sure why some people's tags didn't work,, I am very sorry, if anyone has suggestions onhow to fix that i'm open to fix them)

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rafey-baby · 22 days ago

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rafe has always been close with his sister...(part two)

c/w: incest, some dubcon touching & a kiss from rafe, both of them are more or less drunk, 18+ mdni!

wc: 1.3k

previous part & moodboard

if this is something u don’t like, scroll & read something else xx

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

It’s well past 3 am when they stumble through the front door— wobbly on their feet and drunkenly giggling about some stupid joke Rafe had muttered while fumbling with the keys. Yet another party her big brother had dragged her into, and if it weren’t for his hands on her hips guiding her upstairs right now, she’d wake up the entire house tumbling down the stairs when she’d inevitably loose her footing.

“Rafe, m’never going out with you again. Told you I wanted to leave like two hours ago,” she complains the moment they make it to her bedroom; her feet aching and head spinning.

“‘N she’s complainin’ again. I mean, my apologies for wantin’ to—to show m’little sister a good time,” he huffs, peeling off the shirt that’s beginning to stick to his skin. “Don’t even try t’act like you didn’t have fun.”

“Well, yeaah, but now m’sooo tired and gross and I need to shower and…” she yawns around the rest of the words; hand on his bicep for balance while she kicks off her shoes.

“Don’t— don’t need to worry ‘bout that, told you I’d help you out, yeah?” he slurs, already beginning to tug down the zipper of her dress.

“Nooo…can’t shower yet. Need to take m’makeup off first,” she blabbers, brows pulling together as if he’s just committed some heinous crime, making him roll his eyes before he’s searching through her vanity for makeup remover.

And despite her drowsy resistance about wanting to shower alone, Rafe manages to drag her into the bathroom (after wiping her face clean) anyway — the thermal water soaking through her fatigued limbs feeling entirely too good for her to push him away when he corners her behind the shower curtain, its printed seashells beginning to twirl against the cream-colored material when she stares at them for too long.

And she’s almost starting to believe he’s truly doing all of this for altruistic purposes; thoroughly washing her hair for her and making sure to coat the strands with a generous amount of conditioner afterwards.

But when his soapy palms mindlessly glide along the wet skin on her tummy— inching closer and closer towards her tits, she realizes that she was wrong. However, she’s far too out of it to care, and upon noticing the fact, he’s letting his eager paws grope at the squishy flesh; covering them in the foamy shower gel in the process.

Only when his thumb is smoothing over a sensitive nipple, does she blink away the haziness blurring the lines of what a brother should and shouldn’t do to his sister. And at first, her dozy complaint doesn’t even reach his ears because he’s entirely too focused on the way her tits fit perfectly in the palms of his hands, wondering how it would feel to—

“Rafe…can you not do that?” she suddenly takes a tentative step back.

“Hm? Jus’ makin’ sure you feel all nice ‘n clean,” he drawls out, seemingly confused before he’s tugging her closer with a hold on her waist. “Can you wash my hair next?” he pleads; an abrupt attempt to distract her intoxicated brain.

“I can barely stand and you want me to wash your hair? Can’t even reach your head when you’re a fucking giant.”

But when he leans down for her, she reluctantly begins to lather the shampoo into his roots— gaining a delighted grunt from the back of his throat when her fingers absentmindedly dig into his scalp. However, with the new position, he’s now eye-level with her tits; soap bubbles and water droplets trickling down the smooth skin, and with his thoughts muddled, he’s unable to resist the allure for very long before he’s gravitating towards them.

“Rafe, stoop,” she stumbles backwards when she feels the flat of his tongue laving over the valley of her breasts.

“M’sorry.” But he doesn’t seem all that sorry, not when he looks up at her under his lashes, offering her an inebriated grin— something nauseating coiling in her belly in response.

- - - - - - - - - -

When they finally make it out of the shower, he insists on patting her dry, the foggy mirror saving her the absolute mortification of having to watch her brother’s eyes skim across the expanse of her bare skin during the unnecessarily long process.

“Let me take care of m’favorite sister, yeah?” he croons when he’s tugging down the hem of her sleep shirt afterwards — a shirt that just so happens to be stolen from him, the worn fabric apparently softer than anything of her own.

She’s unsure as to why he’s suddenly being so nice, but she’s not exactly complaining when his uncharacteristically gentle fingertips daub her face with her night cream when they sit down on her bed— making sure to rub the moisturizer into her forehead as well. And she thinks he almost looks cute like this; brows furrowed in concentration, flicking her nose with a sleepy smile when he’s finished.

“That smells so fuckin’ good,” he groans after applying a layer of chapstick to her lips; his heady gaze fixed on the action of her rubbing them together, something she’s too dozy to notice.

“I know, right? I looove anything vanilla-scented,” she gushes over the product while placing the rest of the skincare on her nightstand.

“Can I— uh, try it?” his question sounds innocent enough, but she should know better.

“Of course,” the naive girl fully expects him to uncap the lip balm once more but instead, he’s suddenly grabbing her jaw into his massive hands and pressing his mouth against hers— swallowing her surprised squeak before she’s quickly pulling away.

“Rafe, you promised you weren’t gonna do that anymore,” she whines, but the way her button-eyes blink up at him — the betrayal so tangible — lures him in to do it again; smearing their mouths together with a satisfied hum before she’s shoving at his shoulder.

“Ray, m’serious, it was one time,” she lets out an annoyed huff.

“Calm down, m’lips were jus’ dry, alright?”

“You could’ve just— nevermind, m’too tired for this right now,” her attempts at putting some much needed space between them prove to be futile when he just follows her under the covers— acting as if he doesn’t hear her muttering how he should sleep in his own bed for a change.

“Listen, m’sorry, okay? Don’t like when you’re mad at me,” he ignores her protests and nestles his face into her neck, nose soon nudging her throat and eliciting a somnolent giggle from her.

“Ray, stop. You’re being annoying,” she tries to swat his hands away when his fingers suddenly begin to poke and prod at her sides because he knows how ticklish she is.

“Yeah? Tell me you forgive me then.”

Involuntary laughter bubbles from her chest when she shakes her head and squirms in his arms— desperately trying to wriggle away, but he’s much stronger and she’s no match. And when she grows even louder, he’s forced to slap his palm over her mouth to muffle the noise.

“Shut up, Sarah’s gonna wake up ‘n tell dad we were out late again,” he hisses, suddenly remembering how his other sister is sleeping on the other side of the wall, nonetheless continuing his attack when she attempts to escape once more.

“Stop tickling me then,” she manages out between fits of laughter, uncomfortably writhing in his hold because she hates when he does this. However, she quickly realizes he’s not planning on stopping anytime soon, and the feeling is quickly turning into something unbearable, more or less forcing her to finally let out a sigh in defeat. “Okay, okay, I forgive you— whatever, jus’ let me sleep.”

His breathy chuckle fans the expanse of her neck before he finally relents, but when she tries to shift away from him, he merely tucks her closer against his naked chest; large palm slipping under the hem of her shirt to splay over the expanse of her stomach to keep her right where she is.

“Don’t move,” he murmurs into her hair, tone suddenly desperate, needy. It makes her swallow around the knotted coil in her throat before she reluctantly gives up altogether— entirely too exhausted to put up a fight when sleep is already dragging her into its dreamy embrace and she feels so warm like this.

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httpwintersoldier · 17 days ago

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『sweet little thing p.2 | b. barnes x reader』

pairing: bucky barnes x afab!reader words: it's real long okay, it even has a third part! summary: what happens when the guy you have a crush on happens to have a dad, who is older, hotter and rougher? 『 part 1 』『 part 2 』『 part 3 』『 part 4 』

fluff ; angst ; smut

"I don't think the text was for me, darlin', but for the record, it looks good."

Your widened eyes stared at the text until the screen of your phone locked again due to lack of activity.

You couldn't believe you had been so stupid as to send without checking the contact beforehand! You cursed your slippery fingers, and the fact that their names started with "J". Thankfully you didn't mention any names in the text, or else you'd probably have to drop out and move elsewhere...

Once the embarrassment had washed away ever so slightly, you let his words sink in - "but for the record, it looks good". You gripped your skirt and pressed your thighs together as you imagined the man leaning closely and whispering that in your ear, telling you just how good you looked.

Another dilemma popped into your mind - now that he knew you thought it was slutty, should you really go out in it!? On one hand, Bucky told you it looked good, but on the other you'd basically admitted to knowing too much showed in that outfit...

The sound of a car honking outside broke you from your trance, and you walked over to your bedroom's window to find your ride already waiting for you. You muttered a small "fuck" under your breath gathered all of your things and stuffed them in a bag before taking one last look at the mirror.

"Oh, whatever, can't get worse than it already is." You said to yourself, grabbed a large jersey and threw it on top of the cheerleader outfit you decided to wear.

You sprayed some perfume and left the house, with your heart wanting to find Bucky right away, and your mind wanting him to stay as far as possible.

You all rode in the same car in direction to Andy's house, which meant that at least you wouldn't be alone with Bucky yet again - that alone calmed you down quite a bit. The ride was loud and full of music, but you couldn't stop thinking about your little (big) mistake.

Your friends noticed, but as far as they were aware, you had a thing for Andy, so they just brushed it off as being nervous to be around him or something of the sort.

Fortunately, Andy was the one opening the door this time, and he greeted everyone with a big, adorable smile that would have made you fall to your knees just a couple weeks ago.

"Guys, I need your help carrying the beer cases, the ice and the thermal boxes. Y/N can you and Jas go to the garage and bring the boxes? There's four of them, they're empty so you should be alright bringing two each."

You and the other girl nodded, following his instructions as to how to get to the garage. Once you got there, however, the boxes were nowhere to be seen.

"Can you go ask him where they are, Jas? I'll keep looking."

Your friend nodded and turned around, leaving you alone to look for the boxes by yourself. You tried not to make too much of a mess while searching for them, but you had looked as hard as possible without moving anything, and yet you had no luck finding what you were looking for.

"What happened to that little number I saw?"

You jumped and shrieked at the deep voice behind you. When you turned around you saw those steel blue eyes looking down at you, with a little knowing smile.

There was no point in playing dumb, you both knew what he was talking about. His eyes flew down to your hands that played with the hem of your jersey.

You felt so small under his gaze... You had never felt like this with any other guy - sure, you had been shy before, but when it came to Bucky it was like the words were caught on your throat and your whole body caught on fire. Maybe it was because he was older, maybe it was the confidence and power in the way he conducted himself - the image of a man who wasn't, for once, all bark and no bite.

He stepped forward, reaching right beside you to claim the beer he had left open on the counter that you were leaning against.

"Decided against my advice?" He took a swing of his beer, the playful, devilish smile on his face spreading wider "Andy would've liked it."

He was teasing you. He knew you were embarrassed and he was using it against you, for amusement.

"Why? Did you like it?"

The both of you were shocked at the words that left your lips - you didn't know where those words came from and Mr. Barnes wasn't waiting for something so bold to come out of you.

He chuckled and his eyes suddenly seemed to be darker, but that darkness wasn't the lack of emotion you had seen that day at the store, it was a different type... there was something sensual about his gaze rather.

"Maybe I did."

The two of you heard footsteps heading towards you. Bucky stepped away from you and faced the door just as your friend came in.

"Andy said that his dad already- oh, hello Mr. Barnes!"

"Hi there. Can I help you?" He asked Jas.

Bucky acted as if nothing had happened, as if he and you had just been having a casual conversation, as if the air was thick and tense from the sexual tension burning between your bodies.

"Andy told me and Y/N to fetch the thermal boxes, but he didn't know you had brought them out already." She explained.

"I see. Well, have fun girls." He said, looking between you and her, as you walked towards the door to leave with your friend.

Suddenly, an idea popped into your mind, a little bit of revenge for what he had just done to you. You needed to act fast, so thinking twice about the idea was out of the question, you just... did it.

"Aren't you going to watch the game, Mr. Barnes?" You asked teasingly, turning back around to face him.

Bucky scoffed, knowing exactly what you were doing calling him 'Mr. Barnes'.

"Might stop by and watch it, why sweetheart?" The man asked, with a curious look, taking another sip of his beer, something he did often to hide his smirk.

You took off the jersey you were wearing over your outfit, revealing the cheerleader getup you had just talked about, and handed him the item of clothing.

"You don't have anything to support the team! I can lend you my jersey." You said, your voice honest and innocent, as if you didn't know exactly what your words and actions meant, as if there wasn't a second meaning to what you did.

Bucky wasn't exactly subtle in the way he looked at you. His eyes were eating you up, from top to bottom, slowly taking in the view in the flesh. Eventually, he reached for the jersey and took it.

"Thanks, sweetheart, I'll make sure to give it to you when the game is over."

You mumbled a "don't mention it" and walked back into the house with your friend, so you could help everyone set up for the game.

"Dude, his dad is a real DILF." Jas whispered as you two made it to the front porch.

"I know, right?" You smugly agreed.

Whistles and compliments echoed in the room when you pulled up with the cheerleader outfit after ditching the jersey. Andy's eyes in particular stayed the longest on your body, and you felt a little guilty for nor caring about what he thought - the feedback that you truly wanted had already been received.

Bucky had joined the group not long after the game started, and you didn't miss the way his eyes stole glances at you whenever possible.

The man himself didn't know what was wrong with him. He was nearly twice your age, he could be your dad, it was a very possible scenario since his actual kid was your classmate, but for some reason, ever since you had walked into his house with that pretty little skirt and those big, shy eyes, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about you.

He knew he wasn't being subtle when eating you up with his eyes, but Bucky wanted you to know, to see what you did to him.

Both of you were aware of the painfully tense and erotic situation, as you'd spread your legs and cross them more often than not, giving Bucky a good view or your exposed skin, making him yearn for more.

"Shit, we need more chips." One of the guys complained.

"I can get them." You offered, since you weren't really interested in the game, and stood up, taking the two empty bowls with you.

It seemed to be impossible to ever be in that house without being left alone with James Barnes, but that time it wasn't accidental at all. As you were opening the chips and dumping them on one of the bowls, footsteps echoed behind you.

Suddenly, Bucky placed his hands on your waist and flipped you around, pressing you against the counter and trapping you between the furniture and his body.

"What are you doing, darlin'?" He asked, looking straight into your widened eyes.

"I-I'm refilling the chips..." You responded, pointing at the bowl behind you with your thumb.

"Fuck the chips, you know exactly what I mean, pretty girl." The man said, cutting right through your act, as he gripped your waist tightly and pulled you to him.

One of the corners of your lips twitched upwards, discarding the innocent façade.

"I'm doing just what you are doing."

"You're playing a dangerous game, Y/N."

The way he said your name sent a shiver down your spine, it rolled off of his tongue in a manner that couldn't be described in any way other than sensual.

"And you aren't?"

He chuckled, licked his lips slowly and then brushed his hair back with his hand, out of frustration. Your naive side had him going insane with desperation, but your bold side had the man wishing to fuck the brat out of you.

"You know what?" He said, taking his hand and softly placing the pads of his fingers right above your knee "I'd love to bend you over this counter and fuck you with this little skirt still on."

His hand trailed up your leg, slowly lifting your bottoms, revealing your white panties with a pink bow in the front. Bucky smirked and chuckled, a small patch of wetness was clearly visible.

"But?..." You questioned, teasing him as you slid one of your thighs between his legs.

"Y/N! How are those chips coming along, dude?" One of the boys yelled from the living room, snapping the two of you into reality.

"Yeah- coming! One second." You responded.

"I guess we'll have to finish this later, Sergeant."

You didn't give him time to respond, as you grabbed the two bowls and walked back into the living room, the wet spot between your legs now larger than ever before, seemingly.

What Bucky was feeling was wrong. He stood there in the kitchen, thinking about you, thinking about how he towered over you and how you looked at him with those eyes that switched back and forth from innocent to fierce, to tease him, to lure him even further.

His pants were tight and his head was filled with thoughts of your body, leaving over and pressing against every surface of that house, with him inside of you.

It was torture, he couldn't handle it anymore, and he couldn't go back into the living room with such and obvious problem - and with the source of the problem sitting so close.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Mr. Barnes going up the stairs, with a serious face and a quick pace. No one else seemed to notice, however, as they were too focused on the game.

"I'm going to the bathroom, anyone need anything from the kitchen?" You lied, looking for an excuse to leave the room as quickly as possible without being suspicious.

You had just come back from the kitchen with the chips, so everyone shook their head or mumbled a "no", so you stood up and followed up the stairs, looking out for any noise to find out which door Bucky had gone into.

As you walked down the hallway, you could hear faint grunts that grew closer with each step. Eventually you found the door of what you assumed was his bedroom, and your whole body froze. There was only one door between you, and the thing that you had fantasized for so long.

"Fuck..." You heard him groan from the inside.

Your hand grabbed the doorknob and slowly turned it, as the heat between your legs was too much to bear. You opened the door, just enough to be able to see him sitting on the bed, back against the wall and head leaning back, as his hand stroked his cock.

"Are you enjoying the show?" He asked, continuously jerking his shaft as he lowered his head and looked straight at you, his hair falling beautifully over his face.

Your face was burning up and your heart was racing, but your nerves were nothing compared to the pure hunger and desperation you felt for the man. You stepped into the room, carefully, as if stepping into a wolf's cage, and closed the door behind you.

Bucky watched as you walked over to him, eyes shifting between his hand's movements and his face.

His free hand flew to your hip, slowly guiding you down until you were sitting on his lap, your wet, clothed pussy applying pressure on his cock.

You stared at each other's lips for a very long time. Bucky's hand cupped your cheek and, slowly but surely, brought you closer, until there was no space left between you.

What started out slowly very quickly progressed, and the second your lips connected, his hands were all over your body, gripping you ass and toying with the little skirt he loved so much. Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging on it ever so often as his tongue got bolder.

The two of you pulled apart, your lips were swollen and your eyes were glazed, obviously displaying how much the two of you needed more.

His eyes fell to your lips and he kissed you softly once more before looking up at your eyes.

"We shouldn't do this..." His mouth said something, but the curious fingers that played with the waistband of your panties told you a completely different story.

"Why?" You asked softly, placing small, wet kisses on his neck, causing him to close his eyes and groan.

"My son... Fuck- Andy likes you." Bucky said finally, gripping you tightly as soon as those words left his mouth, as if he thought you'd slip away at the confession.

You kept on kissing his neck, as that confession didn't faze you - if it was something that you would've been over the moon about just a month ago, it was now irrelevant. Bucky came into your life and took over your mind completely, you felt as if every release would feel subpar, unless he was the one helping you reach it.

"You really wanna stop? Hm?" You asked teasingly, as your hips began grinding against his, your wet panties rubbing on his cock.

The conflict on his face was brief, as he eventually threw his head back and let out a low groan. The male gripped your ass cheeks and flipped the two of you over as he attacked your neck.

His hands expertly slid your underwear down your legs, and the male began kissing down your neck, your chest, and your stomach, until he reached your pussy. Bucky teased you for a second, kissing your inner thighs, but he was just as desperate to taste you as you were to feel him.

As his tongue begins licking your cunt and circling your clit, your right hand covers your mouth, while the other grips his hair.

"Aren't you a sweet little thing?..." He whispers, after tasting you.

You almost came at those words, the pure filth of the whole situation leaving you dizzy with pleasure.

The man's cock throbbed against the mattress, but he was too drunk in your taste to let go - Bucky wanted to taste as much of you as possible. His tongue slipped in and out of you as he took a break from teasing your clit, and he didn't stop until your back arched, as Bucky wanted to make you cum with his cock.

Bucky's lips met yours once more, and you could taste yourself on his tongue. That kiss was meant to muffle your sinful sounds as he slipped inside of you and slowly pushed himself fully into you. His girth stretched you out in the most satisfying way, and, somehow, the thing you had fantasized about for so long was even better than you had imagined.

He started out slowly, looking into your eyes as if testing the waters, and picked up the pace when he saw you were comfortable enough. Thankfully the TV was loud enough to drown out the echo from the skin slapping sounds, but they wouldn't drown out much more.

Bucky covered your mouth with his hand as his hips snapped against yours at a feral pace - he wanted to make you scream in a way that you wouldn't be heard.

"Want to be a whore? Hm? Parading yourself in front of me with those pretty little skirts thinking I wasn't gonna fuck the shit out of you?"

Your tits bounced to the rhythm of his thrusts, and you thanked for the hand covering your mouth, allowing you to be as mouthy and as loud as you wanted to.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to see you looking pretty like this, sweetheart." He said, between pants.

Bucky wouldn't last long, as your ever-tightening walls and the erotic look on your face rendered him weak, but thankfully you were also near your climax - he could tell from the way your back arched slightly more by the second.

"Wanna cum for me, baby?" Bucky questioned, removing his hand so you could answer.

"Y-yeah, please, Sir."

He chuckled and smirked at the nickname that, to your credit, did have a nice ring when you were begging under him.

One of Bucky's hands slid between your bodies and circled your clit, until your eyes rolled into the back of your head and your toes curled. You had to bite your lip harshly, to stop yourself from moaning out Bucky's name. The latter pulled out and buried his face in the crook of your neck, groaning and panting as he climaxed, spilling all over your stomach.

Knock, knock.

"Hey dad, have you seen Y/N?"

For a second your face went white and your blood froze - you begged that he didn't open the door, or he would come face to face with a rather unfortunate view. You simply stared at Bucky, trusting that he would come up with something

"Huh?" He said, pretending to be clueless at first, "Oh yeah, she had a bit of an accident." Hinting that you had gotten your period, a clever lie that Andy wouldn't question due to its nature "She was embarrassed and didn't want to tell everyone so I told her to just go home."

"Oh... Okay." Andy's voice seemed sad, and you heard his footsteps dragging on the floor and becoming quieter as he walked away.

Bucky looked into your eyes before pressing a kiss to your jaw.

"Guess you don't gotta go back down... Plenty of time for another round. Or two."

'minors do not interact' banner credit: @cafekitsune

#bucky #marvel #bucky barnes #bucky smut #winter soldier #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fluff #bucky fanfic #bucky reader insert #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #winter soldier smut #bucky barnes reader smut

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ncis-nerd · 3 months ago

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Christmas Cheer

new au alert

Ship: Wife WandaNat x Reader // Platonic Kate & Reader // Brief mention of Kate x Yelena

Warnings: Mentions of Christmas, working in retail, the festive season, winter, alluding to reader being anemic.

About: Christmas time is the best time of the year for most, you love the generosity of people during this season. The Christmas movies, the hot chocolate, gift giving and most of all, spending time with the people you love.

You hummed softly to the Christmas jingle playing in the background. You loved your job, you loved your elderly boss who would show you pictures of her grandchildren, your friend/co-worker Kate who you would spend your lunch break with. Going with you to your favorite Chinese Takeout place.

You loved your job but sometimes you regretted working retail at a toy shop during the Christmas season. Not to get you wrong, you loved seeing the joy on the kids faces, the sparkle in their eye when they got their heart set on a toy they really wanted. And you loved the magic of the festive season but it could be overwhelming sometimes.

Stressed parents running on low energy and little sleep, desperate to find the popular toy their kid wants, searching endless stores just for the toy to be sold out. You couldn't blame them.

You didn't realize you were staring at these two women looking at the window's display of toys. They smiled softly, one woman had on this red and white knitted hat with reindeer on it. The other had a long coat on. You saw her whisper to the woman with the hat. The woman with the hat had a hot chocolate in her hand.

“Hello? Earth to Y/n?” Kate waved her hand in front of your face. “Huh?” You returned your attention to the raven haired girl.

“I said, do you want to go on lunch right now?” Kate asked as a low growl sounded from her stomach. You chuckled softly at the warning from your friend’s stomach that she was hungry.

“Sure! Let me just grab my coat and we can go.” You nodded, heading to the back room where your locker was.

As you zipped up your red puffy jacket, Kate appeared in the doorway. “Ready?” She asked. You nodded as the two of you made your way to the Chinese restaurant.

“It's so cold I can see my breath!” Kate exclaimed, exhaling only to be greeted with a small trail of fog exiting her mouth. You shivered in your layers which consisted of your hat, gloves, scarf, sweater, shirt, second shirt, pants and thermal pants. You got cold easily and instead of complaining all the time (which you still do by the way), you learnt that layering up helps you stay warm. Your mom had told you many times “I don't know how you can do it, I could never wear that many layers” but you shrugged her off.

“We're here! I can smell the food!” Kate smiled as she opened the door to Tony's. Tony's is the name of the Chinese Takeout restaurant you and Kate go to. You've been going there ever since the first day you were hired. You can still remember it vividly. You were sitting in the backroom eating your pb&j sandwich when Kate came in and introduced herself. The two of you were around the same age, the rest of your co-workers were way older than you guys so Kate made the decision to talk to you and become friends. From that day on, you guys have been going to Tony's for lunch.

Now that it's December, Tony's is more crowded. Especially since they came out with their Christmas themed menu, families and teenagers lined up to get something.

Thankfully, there was no one when you and Kate went. If there was, you feared Kate's stomach might explode.

“Hi there ladies, table for 2?” Steve smiled, as he picked up two menus. “Yup!” You nodded. “Is that Kate and Y/N?” You heard Clint's voice from the kitchen.

Clint was a chef who worked at Tony's, he had cooked if not all the meals you and Kate shared there, than most. In your time going to Tony's, you had gotten to know Clint well, you know he has a wife and two young daughters who sometimes come to visit him during his break.

“Yeah!” Steve responded. “Hello Kate, hello Y/N. How's the shift going?” Clint had a warm smile on his face. “Work's going well, how are things here?” You spoke. “Same old, same old. I assume you two want your regular?” Clint nodded. “Yeah, better make it quick. Kate here is starving.” You smirked. “Hey! I'm not starving!” Kate whined. You looked at her with a chuckle as she proved her own point with the whining.

Clint led you two to your table. “Food should be out shortly” Clint nodded as he left. Your eyes scanned the room. You noticed a family sitting at one of the circular booth tables. The little girl had on a pink tutu and an orange shirt. The mom was on the phone and the dad was holding the brother. The little girl made eye contact with you and waved. You smiled softly and waved back.

Clint returned with your water and Kate’'s coffee and placed it down on the table. There was a soft red tint on Kate's face, you could tell she was texting her girlfriend, Yelena.

That's when you noticed the couple from the toy store had entered the restaurant. The blonde was taking off her hat as the woman in the long coat took her friend's hand and rubbed her hands together, to warm it up. You smiled softly at this gesture, you loved seeing how the holiday spirit brought people together.

Clint led the two ladies to the 2 seater tables right by you and Kate. “Thank you” the woman with the hat spoke, with a thick Sokovian accent. “Of course. Can I get you started on drinks?” Clint spoke. “I would like the bloody mary” the other woman spoke, her voice laced in a thick Russian accent.

“And for you ma'am?” Clint looked at the blonde. “Hot chocolate is fine. Thanks.” She nodded. Clint left once again, to make their drinks this time.

“This place is nice” the blonde spoke. “Да, освещение красивое, и меню выглядит хорошо.” the Russian responded.

The Russian's eyes fell on you, you quickly looked away. Hoping that she didn't notice your staring.

“Симпатичная девушка из магазина игрушек здесь.” the Russian's attention focused back on the woman sitting across from her.

You wondered what she was saying. Right on cue, Clint comes out with your chicken lo mein and Kate's fried rice.

“That looks so good, my mouth is literally watering right now” Kate moaned. You giggled at her reaction.

“I wish you a Merry Christmas” filled the silence in the restaurant as your phone went off. In that moment you regretted your ringtone. “Hello?” You answered. “Hi Y/N, I'm so sorry to disturb you from your lunch break but it’s so busy in here right now and we could sure use you and Kate back here at the store” You felt bad you guys were understaffed today and it probably didn't help that you and Kate took your lunch break at the same time. “Of course, I’ll let Kate know. We should be back shortly.” You hung up.

Kate groaned, “Nooo.. I’m so hungry.” You frowned apologetically, “Sorry Kate, Elaine needs us back. She said there’s a big crowd in there right now.” You signaled for Clunt to return. “Hey, can you make this a to-go. Kate and I have to return to work unfortunately.” You said as Clint took the food away.

You zipped back up your coat and collected your belongings as you and Kate walked up to the register.

“Have a good one and stay warm, alright?” Clint spoke.

Google Translate:

Да, освещение красивое, и меню выглядит хорошо. - Yes, the lighting is beautiful and the menu looks good.

Симпатичная девушка из магазина игрушек здесь. - The cute girl from the toy store is here.

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ohimsummer · 1 year ago

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✎ . . .❝ LOOKS LIKE YOU'RE STUCK. ❞

— poly! satosugu, no other tags bro’s just tired of y’all overheating him in his sleep LOL, maybe ONE suggestive sentence but not rlly

The sheets are soaked, but not in a way Geto prefers. Sitting in a pool of his own sweat is bad enough, being encompassed by two thermal heaters for partners is even worse. He shuffles through a tangle of limbs, exhausted, irritated, and in search of some space.

Geto huffs, grumbling, “Get off me.”

The command pretty much goes ignored, only answered by Satoru’s readjustment to nuzzle further into Geto’s chest. You, still half-asleep, breathe out a giggle, and your arms tighten around Suguru’s neck.

He squirms. A few minutes of meticulous wriggling yields results of a freed hand, one he uses to brush sweaty locks of hair away from his face. “God, you two are insufferable.”

It’s Satoru’s turn to laugh now. “We’re cold. What, you want us to freeze to death?”

Yes, he thinks. “Suffocate eachother, then, and not me.”

“Noope.,” you yawn into Geto's shoulder, further tangling a leg with his own. “I like you in the middle.”

“Yeah, true. Can’t sleep without you.,” Satoru agrees on the other side. “Looks like you’re stuck.”

Another exasperated huff as Suguru relaxes, too tired to struggle for a futile escape and knowing he couldn’t win an argument against you both anyway. The ends of his lips quirk up as you lean in to kiss his cheek, and Gojo follows suit.

“Love you, Sugu.,” you murmur as sleep once again overcomes you.

You jolt at Geto's response, a pinch to, judging by Satoru’s yelp, both of your bare thighs.

'Meanie' is all you hear before drifting off again.

#poly! satosugu #poly satosugu #satosugu x reader #suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #jjk x reader #satosugu imagine #jjk fluff #suguru geto fluff #suguru x reader fluff

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lokisgoodgirl · 2 years ago

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Heirs [Asgard!Loki x Fem.Reader]

A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Loki starts your marriage by breaking tradition. Naturally. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Fluff & Smut. Oral. Asgardian HC Lore. Language. Loki POV. (w/c 1.9k)

Loki’s eyes followed the ripples your palms made over the water. Over the curve of your back. The delicate line of your spine. Steam rose in a mist, braiding upwards in the amber glow of sunset through the arched windows.

Sodden rose petals clung delicately to your waist, peppered sporadically on your skin like clean wounds. Beautiful, he thought, letting his robe fall with a rustle around his ankles to the ancient stone of the palace baths.

He smirked as you turned with a splash, instinctually covering your breasts before breaking into a smile. “Husband,” you giggled in greeting. It was the first time you had said it.

The word made him shiver, despite the heat thumping between his legs.

Loki enjoyed the slow crawl of your eyes up his body. You took in every inch of his long legs with the unrestrained hunger of a horny stable-hand, thumbs beginning to subconsciously massage your nipples. There was a flicker of pink as your tongue flashed over your lips, gaze lingering on his cock heavy set between tensed thighs. All yours, my love.

The water was perfectly warm. Hot – but not overly so. Carefully controlled thermal springs which ran into the palace saw to that. With each step into the stilling pool he took, you took a step back.

Even now wed, still ever the tease. Loki’s lips stretched in a mischievous smile, matching your own.

Heat kissed his knees, then his thighs, then his hips– dipping backwards to wet his hair in the perfumed baths. He could feel the weight sink into the tight weaves of his ceremonial braids, wound from his temples, the ends sinking down between floating strands of black. He rose up, rivulets running from his temples down to the nook of his collarbone. The Prince let out a small groan as you reclined on the steps by the side of the pool, only the curve of your mounds visible above gently lapping water. Beautiful.

You bit your lip, resting your elbows on the side. Waiting.

“I might even apologise for interrupting but I believe that would not be the most auspicious start to our marriage,” he coyed, before stopping directly in front of you.

He could feel the cool of your breath against his skin, wafting in teasing waves over the fat tip of his cock protruding from the water. “There will be plenty of time for lies, I'm sure,” you replied with a knowing smile, neck craning up.

Loki shivered again as your lips melded against his stomach, thumbs pressing into his obliques while your fingers curled around his trunk. He could feel droplets roll between his shoulder-blades as his neck tilted back. The feeling of your fingers wrapping around his base of his cock, the gentle suck of your mouth on the thick, swollen head threatening to make his knees buckle. How long he had waited for this. How long you had both waited for this.

“Stop,” he gasped, just as you primed to swallow him whole. Loki would never forget the way your eyes shone with innocent confusion. He looked forward to seeing that moment reflected in your beautiful gaze many times in the coming years. The god bent down, capturing your lips with a messy kiss while he slid beside you on the stone seat concealed beneath the surface.

“Do you know," he began, pausing to brush a thumb over your lips, "that the royal men of Asgard are forbidden from pleasuring their wives with their mouths?” His eyes searching yours, nerves fluttering in his belly. “I have heard it said,” you hummed, curling a thick ebony strand of Loki’s wet hair around your finger. “But it never made sense to me.”

Loki chuckled, leaning forwards to suck gently against your neck.

His tongue would never sate from the taste of your skin. Never. He let out a rasping moan in your ear, one of his hands sliding between your open thighs beneath the water.

The tips of his fingers grazed the plump folds he found, the arch of your back against the terracotta making his shaft twitch against his stomach. “You see, if my tongue is buried between your thighs, wife, it is not my cock.”

“Heirs?” you asked, feigning innocence.

“Heirs.” Loki smirked. You rolled your eyes playfully as his finger trailed lazily down your inner thigh, dragging softly over your knee.

“The most beautiful sounds a woman can make are thus,” he postured casually, leaning one elbow on the side with a fist beneath his temple. Your palms slid teasingly over his stomach, inching further with each time-wasting word. “Firstly, the primal grunt as her blade pierces the flesh of her enemy. And second...”

Loki paused to follow the descent of a particularly fliratatious droplet down the curve of your neck with one long finger, “the shameless groan in her throat as she cums into the mouth of her lover.”

“Is that so?” you said, sliding your hands up over his shoulders. Oil swirling within the heat of the baths made them soft and slick, the lady’s delicate grip against ropes of ferocious muscle making him weaken. Loki felt his brows slant. “You do not believe me?” he murmured incredulously.

The laugh that chimed from your throat made his heart swell.

“My Lord, I am innocent of such things as you well know,” you said, a sarcastic smirk tugging your lips. Loki tutted, playing the game. “I have fought beside you many times, wife. I know that you keep the highest count of men slain by a woman’s hand.”

You nodded thoughtfully, before your head tilted to the side. “I meant the other thing,” you whispered, pressing your lips together. Loki cupped your cheeks as your stare focused on the narrow valley of lapping water between your bodies. He frowned. "Truly?" You nodded. He could feel your cheeks warm beneath his touch. How can it be that a man has never pleasured her so, he thought.

“Then let me show you how black of a steed I truly am in this family of mine,” he heard himself mutter, seeing your chest begin to heave with quickening breaths. “Of all our inane traditions, that is by far the most loathsome.”

The nervous laugh that escaped you bounced to every vault in the high ceilings, sinking through the cross-breeze from the open arches.

“More so than the Ceremony of the Sacred Seed?” you giggled, biting your lip again. Loki nodded, a smile curling one side of his mouth. “The Ceremony is a farce, but this…?” his hands found the curve of your waist beneath the water, lifting you effortlessly to the final step before the bath’s edge. “The waste of my wife’s pleasure from my talents would be unforgivable.”

Water lapped gently at your hipbones while Loki carefully placed your calves over his shoulders. He turned his cheek, placing three kisses gently on wet skin. “Besides, was it not the Ceremony which set our path in motion?” he murmured, before grazing his teeth over your ankle. Your hips bucked upwards, a splash. “At least we may be thankful for that.”

Loki watched in awe as your body leant back against the smooth terracotta ledge, the clear bathwater making rivers and brooks through the creases of your hips. The way your curves stretched and moulded to the stone, fat streaks of water languishing down your supple, oiled skin.

He spread his knees against the bottom step, sinking down. His stomach flipped as your breath hitched, desire roaring behind a demure moan. Your glistening pussy was being lapped by the sway of water, swollen lips revealed and hidden with the graceful tide. Loki hoisted your thighs, positioning you perfectly.

“You know, technically, this is treason against the crown,” he purred teasingly, working sucking kisses up the soft flesh of your inner thigh. He felt them tremble around his neck.

“Husband, please,” you gasped, letting your head drop back. The wet of your hair slopped against the warm stone floor. Loki smirked against your skin, feeling a long breath leave your lungs as his palms lightly gripped your waist. “Very well, Princess-” he smiled.

Loki let his eyes drink in the sight for as long as physics would allow before his lips formed a soft latch to your centre. He stilled, letting you buck into his mouth with a shudder. The warmth of the bathwater lapped at his jaw, liquid silk mingling his tongue with your sex. And like a tame beast, he began a flat ascent up your slit.

The subsequent rattling, gasping cry from your body would never leave him. Surprise, relief, pleasure, freedom – it was all contained in that wordless pitch wavering amongst the bathhouse steam.

He let his tongue curve the softness of your womanhood, hands roaming further up your waist. The curvaceous weight of your breasts cupped in his hands made his cock ache. A vision of sinking himself inside you flashed through his mind, rolling and wrapping in once-pristine matrimonial bedsheets. With every rock of your hips, that delicate pussy crept further from the surface before retreating; never fully submerged but always caressed by the touch of water.

Loki felt your hands slide over his temples, fingers that did not know what to do with themselves playing at his intricate ceremonial braids.

It was tradition for the bride to undo the braiding on the wedding night while her husband rested, utterly spent of course. Of course, Loki thought; as the flat of his tongue pressed against your clit. Your back arched from his palms, an ambrosial moan of his name ringing around the cloisters. But there is time enough for that.

He was vaguely aware of the rumbles of wet enthusiasm bubbling from deep in his throat, the taste of jasmine mingling with the sweet nectar leaking from your entrance. All of it. He wanted all of it. All of her.

Your fingers had knitted into the thick of his braids, pulling his face gently between your thighs. Deeper. Loki smiled against your cunt. He rocked you back, sitting up further on his knees. The god took a breath, pausing to observe the once-forbidden glory of your pussy displayed beneath his loving command.

“How are you mine?” he hummed over your pleasure-drunk form, water dripping from his chin. You melted into his open mouth as he delved down again. His worship was rhythmic, each wax and wane of his talented tongue ringing new wells of praise from your lips. Your hands slid down his glistening biceps, feeling every solid curve and vein on their descent.

He could feel the growing frequency of twitching in your calves, the tense of your thighs as you clung on to the wave of pleasure building in your gut. Gasping, you patted his forearm; but Loki shook his head against your sticky heat.

His eyes rose, seeing your brow furrowed in panicked anticipation. The Prince ran his palms up your thighs from where he knelt, never ceasing his gentle laps against your slit. Relax, my love, it said. I have you.

And with a choked cry of his name, Loki felt a warm well of sweetness against his tongue.

Water splashed against his cheeks as your hips shuddered, your tightened thighs pressing him closer. He slurped, kissing your sex as he would your mouth; massaging the sparks of ecstasy sizzling on every nerve for as long as they could last.

You had dug your fingertips deep into his triceps, riding out your pleasure. As she should, he thought; moaning against your cum-soaked sex. He hoped your enthusiasm would leave bruises. However fleeting.

“My Lord…” he heard you gasp through broken breaths. Loki took a moment to hover before lowering your legs, sinking your hips below the comforting glaze of water. Tendrils of his onyx hair spread on the ripples as you slid down the step to meet his lips with yours.

“My Lady,” he heard himself slur; drunk on the taste of your cum and the tone of your voice, “shall we to bed?”

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, drawing him close. Fingertips played over the wet knotting of his braids, a loving smile tugging at your mouth. “Heirs?” you said, biting your lip.

“Heirs,” he smouldered.

Keep the wedding night journey going with Husband (follow up)

Tags (cont in comments)

@meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @loopsisloops @glitchquake @joyful-enchantress @nyxlaufeyson @arch-venus25

#loki x reader #loki smut #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki fluff and smut #loki x reader smut #loki x yn #loki x you #loki x yn smut #loki x you smut #loki imagine #loki gif #loki marvel #loki x female reader #loki x female reader smut #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson x reader smut #lokismut

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pinkcadillaccas · 29 days ago

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And before you think "this sounds like it takes a lot of effort" yeah it kind of does! But you're researching things that you will hopefully take with you for the next 5-10 years if you choose well. the effort is worth it.

Everyone listen to me ‼️ get a proper winter jacket with pockets and padding and as hood ❕ get proper winter boots with big soles that keep your toes warm ❕get a bag that is structurally sound with a big strap that goes across your chest and lots of compartments to put things ❕get a proper rain coat that is nice and comfortable and for real waterproof ❕buy thick socks❕ yes these things cost quite a lot of money up front but it is worth it if you can afford it, yes sometimes that means buying new which is worth it if it's from a decent company and of decent quality. Owning these things will change your life. Having the proper tools to exist in the world will make you more comfortable in ways you could never imagine. If you don't think you're uncomfortable in winter sneakers and a plastic coat and your little jacket and hoodie combo and your tote bag you are wrong. You are. Get good stuff that fulfills it's purpose. And buy a thermos

#Also get yourself a hood scarf or two. a good hat. warm gloves. options. combos. dont be afraid of abandoning fashion for comfort #you can get things in nice colours and designs. handmade or you can even make things yourself #im just sick of seeing people walking around in just jeans a top and a puffer jacket with their tote bag #that's not comfortable! thats not warm! you spend everyday searching through your fucking tote bag!#were grownups now we can finally admit that thermals and a good coat and a rain coat are needed

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wannabe-fic-writer · 1 year ago

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Natasha x Reader : Body Heat

Summary: When a blizzard leaves you snowed in and freezing, your girlfriend comes up with a brilliant idea. Covers the ‘Ski Resort/Winter Cabin’ square of Holiday Bingo.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI - Smut, Slight Masturbation(R), Oral(R and N), Fingering(R), Face Riding(N), Tiniest smidge of overstimulation.

Word Count: 3k

* * * * * * * *

For a week you’d been cooped up in a fairly old van: driving, sleeping, and eating in it. So when Natasha told you that you’d be staying in a cabin until a new plan was made, you were more than happy.

With Ross on your asses, more like Natasha’s ass, after all the business with the Accords, you’d been running. It wasn’t exactly the life you thought you’d live with the woman but you were with her and that’s all you needed.

These last few days, things having slowed down just a little, have been a dream.

The cabin Natasha had found for you both was small but cozy. Equipped with one bedroom and bathroom, a kitchen, and living room with a fireplace, you had everything you needed.

It was clear when you arrived that it wasn’t lived in. With it being practically hidden away in the woods, the trail to it covered with the thick layer of snow, it was safe to guess no one had been here in a long time. So you had no problem making it your own… as much as you could anyway.

Resources were procured by you, along with a few things to make the space a little more homey. Natasha teased you for the fluffy blankets and pillows you bought, reminding you that you’d have to leave it all behind eventually but you didn’t care.

“For the first time since we met, we’re living together, just the two of us,” you’d said,“ I plan to make the most of it.” And you did.

Every morning, Natasha was woken up with feather light kisses on her face and a tray with breakfast and coffee on it. Throughout the day you would snuggle together on the couch, you reading a book and her pouring over documents for your next move or listening to you read. When night fell, you would light the fireplace and have dinner, ending it with her in your arms.

Sure, the threat of Ross searching for you and finding you was ever present, but things were near perfect.

Were being the key word.

Today started like all the others: breakfast in bed, an intimate but innocent shower shared with your love, and the reading of a book you like. Things took a turn around 4 in the afternoon.

A blizzard warning was given and the snow started earlier in the day. You were prepared: the heat on, supplies stocked, and coffee and cocoa on stand by, plus a large pile of firewood. A few feet of snow had blanketed the surrounding area and with the harsh weather came the shutting off of your power.

The cold didn’t hit instantly. With the heat no longer on, the freezing temperatures from outside slowly crept in.

You did what you could to fight it off: lighting the fireplace, making hot beverages, throwing on some layers, and preparing some blankets. It didn’t prove to be enough though.

The negative 6 degree weather outside took the cabin from a toasty 80 degrees to a chilling 18.

Clad in three layers of clothes: thermal underclothes, thick flannel pants and a long sleeve, plus a hoodie with a hat and gloves, you found yourself still cold. So you burrowed under three of the thickest blankets in the cabin and huddled up by the fire.

All of that and Natasha could still hear your teeth chattering from her spot on the nearby chair.

The redhead claimed to be fine, only in some jeans and one of your thick hoodies, a thin blanket tossed over her shoulders.“ I’m Russian, I don’t get cold,” she said when you offered her sanctuary in your cocoon.

You decided she could go shove her Russian pride and instead focused on not losing any limbs. But you were failing. Or at least it felt like it.

“Holy fuck!” You exclaim into the fairly quiet room. The fire was crackling and the wind was howling but no other sounds could be heard.“ How l-long is this b-blizzard g-gonna last?”

Natasha snorts out a chuckle, eyebrow quirked as she watches you shuffle ever closer to the fire.

With all the fabric you have wrapped around your person, she’s been a little leary about how close you are to the open flames.

“Till tomorrow.” She answers your very rhetorical question.

You send her a glare over your shoulder that further amuses her.

Admittedly though, not much. She doesn’t like that you seem to be suffering so greatly.

Ever since you agreed to go on the run with her, stating that her love is all you needed, she’s been more than adamant on keeping you safe and happy. Feeling like she’s failing at that right now, has her smirk falling and her brain running through solutions.

She comes up with a few but lingers on one that could be effective and fun for both of you.

“You know,” she pipes up after a moment of silence,“ the human body is about 98 degrees on average,” she mumbles, slipping onto the floor with you,“ I’m sure skin on skin contact will warm you up faster than those blankets.”

You scoff, eyes rolling.“ Did you just pull that little fact out of your ass?” You grumble, highly irritated by the cold.

She shakes her head.“ No. I just remembered it. You’d get a lot warmer if you let me hold you. All those blankets and clothes you have on just end up taking on the chill of the room.” Her shoulders shrug, green eyes watching you.

Huffing you tell her,“ you’re just saying that cause you wanna touch me.” You then bury half your face back into the blanket, noting that it is indeed a little chilled.

“What?” Her tone turns incredulous.“ Detka, your warmth is very important to me. I mean, you’re here, cold and suffering, because of me.” She pouts a little.

Looking up with a narrowed gaze, you see the sincerity in her green eyes and the doubt of her true intentions crumbles.

“I- if you think it’ll help we can give it a shot.” You speak softly, pushing the cocoon of blankets off your body.

With a cute smile, Natasha starts to pull her clothes off until she’s left in her black sports bra and matching cotton panties. You can’t help that your eyes roam over her toned stomach and long legs. Your girlfriend is hot and, even through the chattering of your teeth and shivering of your body, you can admit that.

Following suit, you pull off the layers of clothes you’d put on, leaving yourself in nothing but underwear.

Then the two of you scoot a little closer to the fire, Natasha pushing into your side, arms wrapping around you in place of the blankets as she pulls you into her body.

It’s a near instant relief. The warmth of her body surrounds you, gradually staving off the cold atmosphere. That warmth increases as her hands begin rubbing up and down your arms and over your back.

You melt into her, burying your face against her neck as you return her embrace, arms and legs wrapped around her frame.

Her ministrations continue, lulling you into a false sense of relaxation. However, the subtle trail of her hands down your back and over your ass pulls the relaxation away. The instant her fingers slip under the sides of your panties and her hands begin to knead your cheeks your entire body is keyed up.

“Tasha,” you mumble against her neck, hands squeezing her waist.

“Yes detka?” Her oh so innocent tone responds.

“What’re you doing?”

Shifting, she lowers her head and presses a kiss on your shoulder.“ I’m keeping you warm, as promised.”

The hands on your ass squeeze, then run up your sides where she allows her thumbs to slip under your bra to brush the sides of your breasts.

Every move is slow and equally deliberate. Her hands work your body in a familiar fashion, further riling you up with each drag of her fingers along your skin.

Your frustration at being cold fades into one of being incredibly turned on. The wet heat between your legs only increases, as does the desire in the pit of your stomach.

“Tasha.” You say again, this time in a much breathier, needier tone.

She pulls her lips away from your newly marked skin to look at you properly. Upon finding the darkened look in your eyes, flushed skin, and heaving chest, she couldn’t help but smirk.

In truth, she’d barely touched you. Her fingers barely grazed your most intimate parts, instead focused on heavy, intentional touches to every other part of skin.

“If you don’t touch me, I’m gonna go handle it myself and leave you to sleep on the cold hard floor by yourself.”

“But I am touching you, dorogoy.” The words roll off her tongue teasingly and you legitimately huff.

Eyebrows furrowed, nose flaring, you push away from the woman. Cold be damned, you’re much more interested in releasing the pent up feeling in your abdomen.

You wouldn’t admit it but Natasha's actions have certainly left you heated all over.

The redhead watches with rapt attention as you lay back, your hands falling to the places you had just asked her to touch. Green eyes darken further as the fingers of one hand start to tweak your nipples, coaxing them into perfect little peaks, all while your other hand slips between your spread thighs.

Arousal soaks the fabric of your panties and as you touch yourself it begins to coat your thighs. Natasha hadn’t realized how much her touch had affected you, not the full extent anyway.

It's only when you let out a breathy moan that she snaps into action. A hand pushes yours away then pulls your underwear off in one swift move.

Not a second of hesitation is present as the redhead dives in. Her tongue glides between your puffy, glistening folds and she groans against you.

You slip a hand into her hair, lightly fisting as your back arches off the ground. You’re already an absolute wreck, that feeling intensifying as her tongue dips inside you, curling just so.

When your leg hooks around her shoulder, heel pressing into her back to drive her further into you, she smirks. Deft fingers then trail up your leg, ghosting over your slick coated thighs before they tease at your sopping hole.

“Look at me, detka.” Natasha commands, head lifting.

A near annoyed sigh escapes you as you follow her instructions, eyes landing on her chin that glistens from your essence. The words you meant to speak die on your tongue, replaced by a wanton moan as she effortlessly slips her fingers into you.

The fullness they offer is an instant but brief relief that has you shuddering in her hold and Natasha revels in the way your eyes roll back in your head, teeth clamping down your lip.

“Please, Tash,” you beg desperately. The burning feeling in your abdomen was nearing its peak but you needed-“ more. Need more, baby.”

At your words, she ducks her head back down and immediately wraps her lips around your clit. She sucks hard once, twice, then flicks her tongue over the bundle of nerves in time with the curl of her fingers and it sends you straight over the edge.

You cum with a scream of her name, heel digging into her back further as pleasure ripples over your body.

Natasha can’t help but to grip your thighs as they quake beside her head, hips canting up to ride out your orgasm. The taste of you bursts across her tongue and she can’t help but lap up every drop, retracting her fingers so she can shove her tongue into the source of the flavor.

As her ministrations continue, you’re tipped over the edge again, flying head first into a second orgasm. But she refuses to let up, drinking from you like a woman dying of thirst. While her tongue on you had previously felt amazing, the faintly familiar shift from pleasure to pain becomes present and you tiredly wiggle away from her.

Taking the nonverbal cue, she pulls away, licking you from her lips and sitting up on her knees. The pride she already held swells as she takes in the visual result of her actions: your thighs shaking, chest heaving, tits lightly bouncing with each quake of your body.

Her hands take a soothing approach as you come down, softly trailing up and down your legs then up your abdomen to softly squeeze your tits.“ You okay, moya lyubov?”

“Yup,” you hum with a blissfully tired smile on your lips.“ Nearly perfect.”

“Nearly huh?” She quirks a brow, leaning over you to be in your line of sight.“ What do I have to do to lose that nearly?” Leaning down, she presses lingering kisses on your neck.

Hands landing on her hips, you lean up to her ear, running your tongue over the shell of it before whispering,“ come ride my face.”

She damn near snaps her head away from you, eyebrows raised into her hairline.“ Really?” There’s a giddy sparkle in her eyes, accompanied by dilated pupils.

You’re both very well aware of how much Natasha loves riding your face. Not only does she love having your mouth on her, she also loves seeing and feeling you underneath her, able to see your expression as you taste and take her.

A nod is your simple confirmation.“ Let me taste you, baby.” Your hands shift up to the curve of her ass, pulling to urge her forward.“ And those pretty thighs of yours will keep me plenty warm.”

Needing no further encouragement, the ex-assassin stands and rids herself of her underwear. When her panties hit the ground beside you, you notice that they’re much like yours had been, soaked through from her arousal and that makes you even more eager to taste her.

She lowers herself onto her knees, both either side of you as her pussy hovers over you. You lick your lips in a fashion she’s seen plenty of times before, often when your favorite meal is placed in front of you, and pleasure spikes her core.

Your soft, scarred hands find her thighs and you pull her down onto your face with no resistance from her.

Instantly your senses are flooded by Natasha. Sight, smell, touch, taste, and hearing, all at once.

She feels soft, even the raised skin from her battle scars are soft under your fingertips. She smells incredible and the second your tongue runs between her puffy pussy lips you can say the same about her taste. And her moans, her sweet, sinful moans, practically bounce off the walls.

You know, just from the way her slick transfers from her thighs to your cheeks, that she’s very much riled up. You also know that after she’s gone down on you that it doesn’t take much to get her to the edge and over. Still, you put in maximum effort.

Hands grip her thighs with near bruising force as you slip your tongue inside her, tasting every drop of her sweetness before pulling out so you can wrap your lips around her bundle of nerves.

While she loves the hold you have on her, two thoughts enter her mind simultaneously, leading to her taking your hands from her thighs and guiding them to her tits. She squeezes your hands which in turn squeeze her tits as she then begins to ride your face, as asked.

Her hips start a rhythm, pussy grinding on your mouth with each roll. She tosses her head back, moaning your name in a heavenly tone.“ Flatten your tongue, detka.” She instructs and who are you not to listen.

The new sensation sends her reeling and her hips stutter as the first sign of her impending orgasm. She doubles her efforts and you do too, now pinching and pulling on her nipples as she grinds faster.

The stimulation of both pleasure points is her undoing. If not for your steadying hands to keep her upright, she would’ve fallen face first into the ground as her eyes fell shut and her limbs practically went limp.

Using the majority of your strength, you slide Natasha down your body until her legs are on either side of you, then you guide her head to rest on your chest.

“I got you, baby.” You assure her, eliciting her to tiredly wrap her arms around your form, snuggling closer to you.

A comfortable silence settles around you two. The crackling of the fire and howling of the wind no longer irritates you, instead it facilitates the overall vibe of the moment.

Despite the layer of sweat on your heated bodies, you pull one of the blankets up over you to stave off the cold that will inevitably return.

When you’re completely calmed and Natasha’s breathing has evened out, her mind and body equally relaxed given the gentle strokes of your fingers up and down her spine, you teasingly speak,“ I knew you were just being horny.”

“True,” she mumbles after giggling,“ but it worked didn’t it?”

“I-” your words fail you as it’s really quite obvious she was right.“ Oh shut up, Romanoff.” You emphasize with a poke to her side which, in her unguarded state, causes her to jerk into you and let out an adorable laugh.

She whacks your chest, then softly kisses it.“ Really though, thank you for sticking with me. I know this situation is far from ideal,” her voice trails off before she adds,“ and far from our dream.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Tash.” Curling a finger under her chin, you tilt her chin up to catch her gaze.“ Being with you will always make me the happiest person in the world, no matter our circumstances. And I know this won’t last forever. In no time we’ll be living our dream. Just gotta get through the hard parts first.”

Her head shakes as she smiles.“ I love you so goddamn much, Y/n.”

“Not as much as I love you, Natasha.”

After a sweet kiss, you cuddle back up together, holding each other tight. In her arms, surrounded by her warmth and love, the sound of the howling wind fades into nothing as you fall into a peaceful slumber.

* * * * * * * *

Taglist: @owloftheshadows @blackxwidowsxwife @b-5by5 @lostandsearching @iliketozoneout @alotofpockets @storiesofsvu

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff fic #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #reader insert #storiesofsvuholidaybingo2023

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anatay004 · 10 months ago

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ꜰɪɴɴɪᴄᴋ ᴏᴅᴀɪʀ | ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀᴍɪɴᴅ (part six)

ꜰɪᴠᴇ ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴡɪɴɴɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ 70ᴛʜ ʜᴜɴɢᴇʀ ɢᴀᴍᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴀʟʟɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴇɴᴛᴏʀ, ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴇᴛ ᴅʀᴀɢɢᴇᴅ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʀᴇɴᴀ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛɪᴍᴇ — ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘɪᴄᴛᴜʀᴇ-ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ᴄᴏᴜᴘʟᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ ʙʏ ᴏʀᴅᴇʀꜱ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ɴᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴘʀᴇꜱɪᴅᴇɴᴛ ꜱɴᴏᴡ.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ : ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴏꜰᴀɴɪᴛʏ

"DON'T BE SCARED," Dean's voice slid into your thoughts; breaking into your reverie as you visibly flinched. Instinctively, you looked up to meet his gaze, allowing his hand to squeeze your arm comfortably. "The fabric is light, not thermal," Your stylist revealed, referring to the wetsuit you were wearing, trying to dissipate the tension in the air. "So, I'm guessing tropic."

You swallowed hard, trying to take in his words. You were in the Launch Room in the arena, waiting for the countdown to begin as Dean finished braiding your hair down your back.

"And tropic means water," Dean acknowledged, offering you an encouraging smile as you slowly nodded. "You're good in water."

He was right — you were good in water, that's how you'd managed to win your first games. You remember it all too well; an earthquake breaking the dam, the flood in the arena, and you swimming for your life. You swallowed hard at the memory, trying to ignore the pain that tormented your chest. After all, you supposed Dean was right; having an arena close to home could be a great advantage to you and Finnick.

You exhaled sharply.

"Sixty seconds to launch."

You swept Dean a glance. He was looking back at you with a familiar warmth in his eyes — one you'd seen before, and you couldn't help, but reach for him. "Are you still beating on me?" You whispered in his embrace, and his arms immediately tightened around your frame.

"Always." He answered, a little strained.

And with that, he stepped back — wiped the tears in his eyes, and watched as the glass cylinder slid down around you. You watched him blow a kiss at you before you felt the plate underneath you moving upwards. The plan was simple in your head as you leaned against the glass: get to Finnick, get some weapons, and run the hell away from the blood bath.

Simple, simple, simple.

You eventually forced yourself to straighten up when the glass started to retreat, but you found yourself frozen in place when the arena stumbled into your line of vision. For a moment, you faltered as you took in the sight of water in every direction you turned. Only one clear thought formed in your brain as you took in the landscape: Snow was beating on you too.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventy-fifth Hunger Games begin!" The voice of Claudius Templesmith, the Hunger Games announcer, suddenly broke into your reverie. And, instinctively, you searched for Finnick around, but panic quickly flitted across your features when you couldn't find him.

"He's on the other side of the Cornucopia," Peeta's voice slid into your thoughts, and your shoulders slumped in evident relief when you heard his words. "Don't lose focus."

Belatedly, you realized Peeta was standing on the plate next to yours. And he was watching you with concerned eyes, trying to quench down the panic that threatened to break you in front of the cameras, but you didn't notice. You were far too preoccupied with staying alive.

Eventually, you dived into the water.

Hence to your ability to swim, you were quick to reach the spoke of land that balanced your plate and Peeta's. But, to your surprise, you didn't run towards the Cornucopia right away like the others; instead, you found yourself looking back for Peeta. He was struggling to reach the land, so, you impulsively offered him a hand and pulled him out of the water.

"Allies?" Peeta asked, trying to catch his breath as he climbed onto the land.

You didn't answer, but your silence was quite telling, and it took everything in you to ignore the smile that curved Peeta's lips, before sprinting towards the Cornucopia. Within a few minutes, you eventually reached it and immediately grabbed the closest weapon at hand — a trident. A satisfied smile twitched your lips as you balanced the weapon in your hand, but the moment was fleeting, before you knew it; Peeta was already back in the water fighting a tribute.

"Peeta!" You shouted and made to run in his direction when a steady hand dropped on your shoulder. Instinctively, you made to throw the trident, but another hand on your wrist stopped your movements altogether. "Oh." You breathed out, in sudden relief, when you realized it was just Finnick. "Are you okay?"

"Stay with Katniss, I'll get Peeta," Finnick commanded, dismissing your question, his voice powerful enough to make you obey him. In that moment, as Finnick dived effortlessly back into the water to help Peeta; you realized he'd made his alliances too. Katniss was close by, watching the scene with a horrified expression on her face. At the sight of her distress, you couldn't help but wonder if this was all an act like everyone else said. Or, if Mags was actually right, and there was something real about it?

You couldn't quite piece together an answer yet.

When the canon finally fired, your heart skipped for a moment, but relief quickly washed over you when you caught sight of Peeta's moving figure and Finnick pulling him back onto land.

The other tribute had died.

"You okay?" You eventually turned to ask Katniss, when Peeta was finally out of danger and you were both waiting for him and Finnick to come back. Katniss threw you a skeptical look, one that underlined you were not friends. "The baby, I mean."

Realization quickly dawned on her face, as if she'd suddenly remembered she was supposed to be pregnant. "Yeah, we're fine."

You nodded.

"Are you alright?" Peeta was quick to ask you, when he rushed back to the group, with Finnick strolling right behind him. The concerned tone in his voice caught you off guard, but you decided not to show it as Katniss watched you.

Carefully.

"Are you?" You asked instead, scrutinizing him for a moment; just to make sure he wasn't terribly hurt. To your surprise, he wasn't. "I barely even left you." You mumbled as you recalled he was running right behind you before he was even thrown back into the water.

"Don't." Peeta scoffed, a little faintly.

And you blinked in surprise.

"Hey," Peeta suddenly turned to Katniss, as if he'd suddenly remembered the cameras. "Are you okay?" He asked, before pressing a kiss to her cheek. You watched their interaction with curious eyes, unable to hide the perplexed expression on your face as you studied the scene.

"Yeah," Katniss replied, offering him a faint smile before turning to look at you. The weight of her gaze made your muscles tense; for a moment, you could've sworn she was throwing daggers at you. "We're okay."

The atmosphere suddenly grew thicker.

"We need to head to the jungle." Finnick suddenly spoke, breaking the tension, before sliding his free arm unexpectedly behind your waist. "We need water and a place to rest before night falls."

You nodded and made to move forward, but Finnick kept you in place; making sure Peeta walked past you first. "What?" Finnick asked innocently when you raised an eyebrow in silent question. "He can take the lead."

You opened your mouth to reply something along the lines of, " We should probably separate" but he muffled your words with his mouth— silencing you with a kiss.

"Come on," Finnick whispered against your lips, beckoning you to follow behind the group. You hesitated and lingered there for a moment before he lifted your chin to look at him. "Trust me."

You pressed your lips together and — for a split second, you thought back to the conversation with Haymitch you'd overheard from the previous night. Perhaps, this is what it was about, you thought, about this alliance with them. So, with that in mind, your grip tightened around the trident in your hand and you turned to follow Peeta and Katniss.

With Finnick right behind you.

Peeta took the lead, cutting through the patches of vegetation with his long knife as you walked through the jungle. Now and then, Katniss turned back to look at you and Finnick; as if she was almost expecting for you to attack them at any moment. You supposed you couldn't blame her for that.

You, yourself, didn't trust her either.

"God, it's hot," Peeta hissed, stopping suddenly on his track to catch his breath after a few miles. The jungle was hot and humid; you could feel your hair damp and plastered over your forehead from the sweat. Simultaneously, your lips were chapped and dry from the lack of hydration. "We need to find fresh water."

"You don't say." Finnick deadpanned, to which Peeta threw him a glare in response.

"What if we move to the other side?" You suggested, cleaning some of the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. "Maybe there's a spring or something."

"There isn't." Katniss limited herself to answer.

"How do you know — " You started, but the words quickly froze on the tip of your tongue when the cannon started to go off again; indicating more deaths.

"I guess we're not holding hands anymore," Finnick quipped, stifling a chuckle as he counted the number of times the cannon fired.

You counted three.

"You think that's funny?" Katniss hissed, throwing your husband a heated glare.

"Every time that cannon goes off, it's music to my ears," Finnick replied, matter-of-factly, before he added. "I don't care about any of them."

"Good to hear," Katniss scoffed, reaching her arm back to pull an arrow from her quiver. Instinctively, you aimed the end of your trident at her, but Finnick was quick to lower your weapon.

"You want to face the Career Pack alone?" Finnick questioned her, rather indifferent to her threat. His reaction took you aback; for some reason, he seemed certain she was not going to shoot him. "What would Haymitch say?"

You, on the other hand, were not.

"Haymitch isn't here."

You tilted the trident towards her direction again, but Peeta was the one to break the interaction this time. "Come on, let's keep moving." He said, beckoning Katniss to move along. And, from the corner of your eyes, you could've almost sworn he threw you an apologetic smile.

You watched them walk ahead of you for a few seconds without a word. She's going to kill us, you thought to yourself, as you watched the girl on fire with cautious eyes. And if she doesn't, she's certainly going to try to — at one point or another.

You nibbled your bottom lip pensively. Would this be a good time to separate? You wondered again, trying to think of a coherent plan. To turn the other way and let them face the Career Pack on their own? It's what Snow would want. But what about Peeta?

You paused, the question caught you off guard; as if you'd suddenly realized what you'd asked yourself subconsciously.

What about him?

"Put the trident down, baby," Finnick's words slid into your thoughts, and you blinked; belatedly realizing that you were still holding the trident up defensively. "They're harmless."

"You sound a little too sure about that," You questioned him, tilting your head suspiciously. "As if she didn't just threaten to shoot you."

"Just — " Finnick paused as if he were choosing his next words carefully. " — just trust me, love."

Your eyebrows knitted together. "I'm trying to."

Finnick's lips twitched, clearly dismissing the seriousness of the conversation. "You're gorgeous when you're mad."

"I'm not mad," You clarified, but the annoyance in your voice betrayed your words. "But if it has to come down to choosing, I'm choosing you."

Finnick looked at you for a moment, eyes softly lit with vulnerability. "I know."

You opened your mouth to say something else, but the sound of Katniss screaming quickly cut you off. In a split second, you watched as Peeta flung back from a force field he'd just hit, bringing you and Finnick down along with him.

"Peeta!" You screamed, rushing over to his motionless body, where Katniss was trying to shake him awake — with no luck.

"He's not breathing!" She yelled, almost frightened. "His heart's not beating!"

At the sight of this, you suddenly remembered something Mags had taught you a few years ago — when your dad had almost drowned once, and you didn't know how to bring him back. Instinctively, you pushed Katniss aside, ignoring the way she immediately reached for an arrow.

Finnick yelled something at you, something along the lines that he would do it, but there wasn't time. So, you pinched Peeta's nose and pressed your mouth over his to blow air into his lungs. You did this for a few minutes until a cough eventually slipped out his mouth and you leaned back to look at him in relief.

"Shit." You breathed out, subconsciously resting a hand over his chest as you watched his eyelids part. For a few seconds, he lay there on the ground, simply looking up at you as he slowly regained back his consciousness.

"Careful," He eventually mumbled, wrapping his fingers around your wrist harmlessly. "There's a force field up ahead."

A small laugh escaped your lips. "Thanks, I almost didn't notice."

Peeta smiled, despite the evident pain he was in, and you were just about to help him get back to his feet when Katniss slightly shoved you aside. You didn't mind, you supposed she was in the right too. But you could've sworn Peeta's grip tightened around you — for a split second as if he almost didn't want to let go.

You decided to dismiss it, thinking nothing of it as you made your way back to Finnick and Katniss pulled Peeta into an embrace.

One that made you look away — for some reason.

"I thought you wanted to separate." Finnick confronted you sometime later when you were both leaning against a tree, trying to catch some sleep before sunrise. Your head rested on his shoulder sluggishly as you watched Katniss take the first watch from a comfortable distance.

"What?" You returned, unable to hide the confusion in your voice as you looked up.

"You saved Peeta." Finnick suddenly pointed out, but his tone was hard to label. Was he angry? Unhappy? Nonchalant? You couldn't tell.

"You said they were harmless." You answered, throwing his words back at him. But he didn't answer, instead, he looked down to scrutinize your features carefully — as if he almost wanted to decipher something, but couldn't. "What?"

"You saved him twice."

Your eyebrows knitted together. "I didn't — "

" — During the blood bath, when he was pulled into the water, you were willing to jump back in to save him," Finnick interjected, and you supposed he wasn't entirely wrong. You did go back for Peeta, but only because you considered him a friend. Someone who would, strangely, do the same thing for you. Or, that's the first thing that came to your mind anyway.

"Where are you going with this?" You eventually asked, trying to read the emotions that flitted across Finnick's face, but — like always, there was nothing you could place a finger on.

"It's — just an observation." He simply said.

But you didn't like the tone of his voice, it made your skin pepper with goosebumps. If you didn't know any better, you were almost certain his tone was accusing. But of what exactly? You didn't know, he didn't elaborate any further.

"Mhm," You hummed, trying to move the conversation elsewhere. "I'm starting to get the impression you just want me to yourself."

Finnick stifled a chuckle, grasping onto the fact that you wanted to change the subject. "You? My gorgeous wife? I don't think so, no."

Your heart skipped at the word "wife". The truth was, you were still not used to it. And the word alone was enough to have your heart hammering against your chest. "Dork," You quipped, snapping your eyes to the side, but Finnick didn't miss the pink hues that tinged your skin.

"You're pretty when you blush." He teased, dissipating the tension in the air, as he curved the side of your face with the palm of his hand to make you turn to look at him again.

"I'm not blushing.” You argued, but it was a futile attempt when you felt the heat rolling up your cheeks. Naturally, Finnick pulled your face closer to his; until you could feel his breath pressing against your skin and there was barely a gap between you. Instinctively, your eyes dropped to his lips and he took the opportunity to brush them against yours.

"Sure you're not," Finnick whispered into your mouth before he allowed his tongue to sweep past your lips in a passionate kiss. As if he was almost needy; as if he almost needed to prove something. Whether it was to the cameras or himself, you weren't exactly sure, but you kissed him back — with equal fervor.

Until the sound of the arrival of a silver parachute broke you apart. For a moment, neither of you reached for it; allowing the item to land before you peacefully. After a few seconds, Katniss walked over to your spot and, subconsciously, your eyes traveled past her frame in search of Peeta.

"He's sleeping," Katniss informed you, just as Peeta's body stumbled into your line of vision. He was a few feet away, curled on the ground — sleeping almost peacefully. You nodded, trying to ignore the fact that she'd just read your subconscious thoughts.

"Whose is it?" Katniss eventually asked, eyeing the parachute on the ground with curiosity.

Finnick shrugged, pushing himself back to his feet. "I have no idea."

"Open it." You encouraged her, ignoring the way she narrowed her eyes at you. "Or not."

Katniss sighed audibly, but she eventually took your advice and opened the parachute. Curiously, you peeked over to catch a glimpse of a metal object inside alongside a note. "It's a spile!" She informed you, to which you only blinked — dumbfounded. "It's to access water."

Relief washed over your features when Katniss took the metal object and hammered it into the green bark of a tree. For a few seconds, nothing happened as you stood there watching; until a stream of water eventually ran out. After Katniss, you rushed to hold your mouth under the tap, allowing the water to wet your parched tongue.

And, it wasn't until Katniss was waking up Peeta and Finnick's back were facing you when you finally decided to search for the note that was attached to the parachute. But a chill soon kissed down your spine when you took the parchment paper in your hands and read through the letters:

Remember why you're here for.

— S.

Finnick was sleeping next to you, his arm was wrapped around your waist and his face was buried in the crook of your neck. The jungle was quiet — too quiet to your liking, but you supposed you could appreciate the silence as you warred with the thoughts inside your head.

To say the note scared you was an understatement. You were terrified. Because Snow was watching each and every one of your moves; listening to every one of your words. Unsure of how everyone else would react, you fisted the note in your hand before anyone else could read it. And when anyone asked about it, you simply answered it was from Haymitch.

But, now that you were lying down and thinking about it — one thing was clear; Snow wasn’t content with your choice of alliances.

He didn’t approve of them.

How could he? If you and Finnick were both reaped for a purpose and one only: to kill the Mockingjay. To annihilate any chances of her winning, to win over her sponsors, and to make the fight seem fair. And, so far, Snow had done his part of the deal; he’d placed you and Finnick under the limelight, made you both the Capitol’s favorites and even incarcerated you inside an arena close to home.

With tridents, especially made for you.

So, now, it was time for you to do your part too.

You swept Katniss a look, then Peeta. They were both sleeping on the other side of the ground; just a few feet away from you.

One wrong move and everything could go wrong very quickly. For you — for Finnick, and the thought alone forced a sickening feeling to retaliate in the pit of your stomach. Because you didn’t want to kill Peeta or Katniss, as much as she managed to get under your skin.

But if it had to come down to that, would you do it? Was Katniss right in mistrusting you after all? Would you really kill her and Peeta?

You exhaled pensively as your eyes searched for Peeta again — almost subconsciously. The mere sight of his chest rising and falling with each breath he took made your heart skip. Would you be able to kill him? His soft features, the strands of blonde in his hair, and his kind heart.

No, you thought quietly, not Peeta.

And then, as the thoughts quietened inside your head, something in the distance caught your attention. For a moment, you watched as a wave of fog slid into the jungle. Instinctively, the hairs of your arms rose and you pushed up on one of your elbows to examine the scene a little closer.

Simultaneously, Katniss stirred awake and quietly turned her attention to the mysterious curtain of fog too. In a matter of seconds, you watched as she reached to touch it with the tips of her fingers — and a scream quickly erupted.

“Run!” She yelled in pain.

Finnick snapped awake instantly, pushing your body behind him; ready to encounter an enemy, but to his surprise, Katniss clarified. “It’s the fog! It’s poisonous! We have to run, Peeta!”

Katniss helped Peeta climb back to his feet as Finnick beckoned you to run. For a few minutes, everyone sprinted, but the curtain of gas was expanding in every direction you turned. And it didn’t help that Peeta was tripping over everything on the ground either — he was weak, you could tell, perhaps it was the aftereffects of hitting the force field. So, without thinking, you gripped his arms securely and pulled him forward.

“Come on!” You encouraged, but your eyebrows jumped when he pulled his arm back. You opened your mouth to berate him — tell him there wasn’t time for this, when he intertwined his fingers with yours instead. Amidst the circumstances, you didn’t have time to coherent a reaction or a reason to let go.

Droplets soon sprung free of the vapor and landed on your bodies. You hissed in pain, it burned your skin searingly — like a chemical. After a few minutes, Peeta eventually fell to the ground and, despite your and Katniss’ efforts to pull back to his feet, his legs gave up.

“I’ll have to carry him.” Finnick eventually sighed, when there was a good distance between the fog and your group, and Katniss nodded.

For about a mile, you watched as Finnick carried Peeta on his back until he eventually collapsed on the ground too. You rushed to him, but the pain that seared your skin was equally as defeating, and, along with Katniss, you hit the ground almost instantly. But Finnick mumbled something under his breath, something along the lines of “go to the water” when you belatedly realized you were just a few feet away from the water that surrounded the Cornucopia.

After a few tries, however, you eventually faltered and turned to face the curtain of fog. But the chemical didn’t suffocate you as you’d expected. Unlike, it grew thicker and condensed as it suddenly pressed against a force field.

After a few minutes, it eventually went away.

“It’s gone,” Katniss murmured, but her voice was strangled and barely audible. “The fog.”

Your body was still twitching when you heard a wail slip out of Katniss’ mouth from somewhere close. Then you heard Peeta’s and then you heard Finnick’s. You tried to part your eyes when you eventually felt someone slide his hands under your armpits, but you couldn’t even do that. Naturally, you hissed in pain, but the action was abruptly interrupted by another pair of hands on you.

“I’ll do it.”

“I already got her.”

“Peeta.” The voice, you later recognized as Finnick’s, was dangerously low — as if he was suddenly speaking through his teeth.

Giving out a warning.

The only thing you could remember after that was your skin being torched. As Finnick pulled you into the water, a heart-wrenching scream ripped out your lips; as if you had suddenly been thrown into an open flame.

“I know, baby,” Finnick cooed, pressing a gentle kiss on the top of your head. “I know…”

After a bit, the blisters in your skin slunk back into your flesh and disappeared along with the pain. “Motherfuckers,” You cursed, falling back against your husband’s chest in evident exhaustion. “I’ve never run that much before.”

Finnick laughed, incredulous at your sense of humor. “You and me both.”

You didn’t say much after that, instead, you allowed yourself to indulge in the fleeting moment of peace in Finnick’s arms. But the moment didn’t last for long when you began to wonder if maybe— just maybe, this was a warning from President Snow.

And you needed to do your part of the deal soon.

Author’s Note

I’m back after a horrible writersblock! It took me so long to write this, I’m sorry, besties, but don’t worry, I have the rest of the chapters planned already. Anyways, I would really appreciate you guys could interact with the story! Lately, I don’t have that much motivation and reading you guys thoughts and comments on my inbox helps so much!

With that being said, I left some Peeta content for those of you who are #teamPeeta. Enjoy!

@serrendiipty @avoxrising@queerqueenlynn

@darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts@stayc-a-I-m

@chaoticcoffeequeen @wonderland2425

@leilani788 @nexxus13 @whatsupb18

@maxinehufflepuffprincess @meri-soni-meri-

tamanna @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake

@syd649 @flavorofsalt @wisewidowweasley-

blog@meikoo@mozz-are-lla

@nomorespahgetti

@aestheticOcherryblossom

#fanfic #finnick odair #finnick x y/n #peeta mellark x reader #jacaerys x reader #finnick odair drabble #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair x reader #finnick x you #hunger games finnick #the hunger games #finnick x reader x peeta #peeta mellark #peeta x reader

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luxudus · 2 months ago

Text

“MY BROTHERS FROM STARS AFAR. JOIN US AND WE SHALL BURN TYRANNY TO CHAR.

WE HAVE WATCHED OUR WORLD BE TORN TO SHREDS. FILLED WITH DREAD AS BILLIONS DROPPED DEAD AND MANY MORE PROFUSELY BLED.

WE WATCHED IN HORROR AS ENTIRE CULTURES WERE ERASED. ENTIRE WORLDS WERE DISPLACED

AND ALL THIS FOR THE ELITES TO LINE THEIR POCKETS. THEY LAUGHED AT OUR PLIGHT FROM THEIR SEATS AS THEY MULTIPLY THEIR PROFITS.

ALL FOR THE TYRANTS TO BE OUR PUPPETEERS OF ENDLESS PAIN. CONTROLLING US THROUGH OUR FEARS FOR THEIR OWN PERSONAL GAIN.

WE DESPISED THEM TO OUR HEARTS AS IT RADICALIZED US TO DO OUR PART.

WE KILLED EVERY LAST DESPOT AND OVERTHREW OUR STATES. WE FOUGHT FOR OUR RESPITE AND NOW DECIDED OUR OWN FATES

OUR HOME WAS UNSALVAGEABLE, WE LEFT AND FLEW INTO THE FRIGID QUIET NIGHT. WE SEARCHED THE STARS ONLY TO FIND YOU AND YOUR KINDRED PLIGHT.

IT'S ALL CLEAR NOW, OUR AGONY WAS MUTUAL, AND WE SAW A NEW TRUE THESES. THE FIGHT AGAINST TYRANNY IS THE ONE CONSTANT, UNIVERSAL TO ALL SPECIES .

WE HAVE SUFFERED FOR FAR TOO LONG WITH NOTHING TO GAIN. AND WE WILL MAKE SURE YOU WON'T GO THROUGH OUR PAIN.

WE ARE HERE TO SET YOU FREE. AND SAVE YOU FROM ALL DISASTERS. TO HELP YOU FIND YOUR PEACE AND SLAY YOUR MASTERS.

LIBERTY WAITS FOR NO ONE. AND NO ONE SHOULD WAIT FOR LIBERTY”

- grand arbiter ██████████████ ███

They were the other of the first two civilizations

10 billion years ago they walked the universe with the Factorem. In a time when space itself was warm.

For most souls of the early universe, this was the face of democracy.

They too were the technological pinnacle of the universe.

They bent reality to create floating architecture and multi-dimensional superstructures that defied the very laws of physics.

They too helped create the Understars, an entire parallel universe just to ease travel in our own reality.

They even went as far as being able to temporarily reverse to flow of time in portions of space to undo mistakes to grave to make.

And even learned how to convert thermal energy back into mechanical energy. Delaying the heat death of the universe.

Look at the night sky the same way the hubble telescope saw it through the deep field image.

Millions of galaxies in every square centimeter of your vision.

Every single one holds tens to hundreds of billions of stars and countless planets.

So many galaxies it would turn the whole night sky a deep gold if you could see the full scale

Where the loving embrace of the factorem tended the gardens to one half of it

They had spread the call of liberty to the other half

They were the harbingers of intergalactic liberation

They were the Bellators

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

Had the urge to draw this a few days ago and wanted to finish a little poem before i uploaded this. I was. very. emotionally charged making this.

This character is a part of a personal project of mine, A Story of Our Universe. And is meant to serve as the Factorem's Equals.

#my art #artist on tumblr #art #speculative biology #alien species #worldbuilding #a story of our universe #abstract art #poetry

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toxicanonymity · 2 years ago

Text

You really are trouble. Silence can never be bought, only rented (pt. 3 of 6)

Can read STANDALONE, or Story Master List

4.4k words | dbf!Joel Miller x F!Reader | 18+ nsfw

Summary: You go back to campus and Joel shows up. You stay with him for a night.

He chuckles then checks you out and a hunger comes over his face. He looks down at himself before he lowers his voice and meets your eyes again. “What, you wanna souvenir? I’ll send you a picture.” The way he's looking at you. . . you can practically see the reflection of your naked tits in his pupils, even though you're fully clothed. He adjusts his jeans and looks out the passenger window behind you.

thx for moodboard @dark-scape. | joel master list

Next: Part 4

content notes/warnings: age gap, protective!joel, reader can wear Joel's jacket & Chad mistakes Joel as her dad (in hindsight I would try to do this a different way but it is what it is and I've left it because it reveals something about her dad), ample sexual tension, non-graphic violence, ref to gaslighting, light hurt/comfort, light stalking, blackmail/manipulation themes, begging, mild dubcon, cunnilingus, cumshot, slasherfucker easter egg🥚, Joel says he can wear something of hers to sleep.

As you drive back to campus, you try to think logically about Joel. On one hand, fucking him might give you even more leverage, if you could stay detached, but you're smart enough to recognize the poor odds of that. You also wonder if you should question his motives. He's never so much as hit on you until now that you have something over him. To be fair, it isn't out of nowhere - you held eye contact with him while he fucked your stepmother. You could’ve walked away as soon as your suspicion was confirmed, but you didn't walk away until he came, eyes locked with yours. Then, the next day, you went to his pool, took your top off, and made him jerk off.

When you get to your apartment, you bring Joel's jacket inside and drape it over your upper body, all the way up to your nose while you lie on your bed and scroll your phone. Chad, your kind-of ex, asks if you can talk. You start typing something, but when he texts you again to add a question mark, you decide to ignore him. You put on the jacket. There’s a scrap of thermal paper with gps coordinates in the pocket. Out of curiosity, you search the coordinates and they're near Uvalde, but you don’t find an address. The closest thing is an abandoned mall.

You put down your phone and turn up the jacket collar, then inhale it with your eyes closed. You get another text and it’s Joel. For a moment, you feel warm and fuzzy, until you open it.

“Thinking of you.” It’s a surveillance picture of you topless in his pool. A pit opens in your stomach.

You can just picture his smug smile as his big stupid thumb pressed send. The picture disappears as your ears get hot. What does he think he’s doing? You text him accordingly. You seethe. But there’s another part of you – a hot, wet part of you, that only wants Joel more with every depraved thing he says and does. You almost wish the picture didn't disappear so you could admire his back and imagine what else could have been. . .

Imagine Joel getting in the pool with you, pinning you to the edge, his thickening cock pressing into you, rock-hard. Joel wrapping his arm around you, shoving his hand between your legs, pulling your swimsuit to the side, taking you from behind. His cock filling you up, one hand on your tits, the other between your legs. Bouncing you on his cock, zero gravity, your knees spread and bent. You get yourself off with very little effort by imagining this. It only briefly crosses your mind that, worst case scenario, the oxytocin of each orgasm may work to his advantage.

You have to work at the cafe the next day. It’s gotten slower since summer session ended, but the bookstore still gets traffic from families visiting campus and whoever's still around. And as long as the bookstore gets traffic, so does the cafe.

Chad, your kind-of ex, comes in. You try to remain composed and professional, but it’s humiliating having to serve him after he cheated on you then tried to gaslight you that you were never "together" after almost a year. He’s wearing a t-shirt from the venue where you met when you saw his band play.

Your heart races as you write his name on a cup and he tries to get you to take your break. You refuse. He invites you to a party, then sits alone in the cafe for a few minutes, manspreading like he owns the place, watching you. Eventually, he leaves and your eyes well up in tears. You wipe down tables as a way to get a moment alone to compose yourself.

When you finish wiping down the last table, you stand up and get startled by someone standing way too close behind you.

Joel’s low, gruff voice asks, “I reckon that's Chad?”

Your heart jumps to your throat. “What are you doing here?” Naturally, you’re still mad about the topless picture – or at least, you feel like you should be mad.

“Comin' back from a job. You okay?”

You turn around and meet his eyes. And forearms. His denim shirt is fitted and his sleeves are rolled up. Jesus.

“I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“I know. You can delete it yourself. Come out to my truck for a minute.”

“Seriously?”

“What, you trust me to do it myself?”

You roll your eyes and take your break, following him outside.

Joel opens the passenger door for you. When he gets in the truck, he pulls out an iPad and opens his home surveillance app.

“We’re on my hotspot. Here, delete the whole day if you want. Then go to the trash and empty it.” He hands you the iPad. “Can’t be too careful these days, Trouble.” he adds.

Your cheeks burn with exception. Resentment. “Can’t be too careful ‘cause a creep like you might record me?”

“See that black bar?" He points. "Means no data for that time. ‘Cause I turned’em off, just not fast enough.”

“Conveniently, right before you took your cock out.”

He chuckles, then checks you out. A hunger comes over his face. Maybe it was hearing you refer to his cock. He looks down at himself before he lowers his voice and meets your eyes again.

“What, you wanna souvenir? I’ll send you a picture.” You can practically see the reflection of your naked tits in his eyes. He adjusts his jeans and looks out the window behind you.

Your face gets hot. You compose yourself and look him up and down. “If I wanna see your cock, I’ll tell you to take it out.”

His eyebrows shoot up. "Attagirl." He whistles as he shifts in his seat. “God damn, Trouble. You really are.” He puffs his cheeks as he exhales and shakes his head. "Who knew," he adds under his breath, looking absently through the windshield.

You hand the iPad back to him and an alert pops up, catching your eye. It’s your stepmother’s car at his gate. It quickens your heart rate. You study his face for an answer.

He sighs. “She keeps callin’, comin’ by. I changed the gate codes. . . I’ll text you your new one." His brow furrows as he stares into space, then he scratches the back of his neck. "I reckon I should prolly stay away for a couple days, let her get it out of her system.”

He deletes the app and reaches behind the seat to pull out an Apple Store bag. He puts the iPad in the bag and hands it to you. “Keep it.” It’s blue like the phone from yesterday. You should’ve known.

“Real creative. This is your whole plan? Buy me an Apple store?” you hand it back to him. "I'm not walking back in there with that."

"Fair enough." He smiles to himself and leaves it in the truck as you both get out. He puts on his Ray Bans.

Joel pulls up his pants and puts his hands on his hips, shifting his weight to one leg and popping out a knee. Your gaze drifts to the bulge below his belt. His brow furrows as he looks off.

“Now. . .'bout Chad. . . I reckon I got nothin’ but time now if he needs a lesson in manners.” Once again, you hate him for bringing up Chad.

Your face tightens despite your best efforts. "Don't bother."

“Aw, shoot.” He always knows. “Com'ere, sugar.” Joel opens his big arms. You can’t resist his bear hug. You feel safe.

You sniffle and he whispers, “Hey, Trouble. What did the white grape say to the purple grape?"

"Hm?"

"Breathe."

You can't help but laugh. He hadn't told one of those in a while. Fitting, too.

“There she is.” He smiles as you pull away.

“I have to get back to work.”

“Reckon I'll be 'round if you need anything.”

“Okay, creeper.”

When you get home from work, your roommate is watching the news. The newscasters are talking about a body found in an underground bunker outside Uvalde near the border. You look up and do a double take.

“Holy shit.” Your heart races.

“What”

“Oh, I thought I recognized that mall.”

You consider texting Joel about it, but something tells you not to. You don't text him at all. You google it. There are rumors it was a cartel boss.

Your roommate is planning on going to the party Chad invited you to to meet up with a guy you and Chad introduced her to. You resist her invitation, but she begs you to come just for a few minutes so she doesn’t have to show up alone, and eventually, you relent. You do a little pregaming at home before heading to the party. You wear something hot to make Chad sorry – leather pants and a low-cut, lace top – with Joel's jacket over it.

Chad is already drunk when you get there. He herds you and your roommate to the drinks. The guy she’s talking to went on a beer run. Aside from the two of you, it’s almost all guys, so you’d feel guilty leaving her there. You decide to stay just until her guy gets back from his beer run.

This takes longer than you expect. Chad keeps trying to talk to you, telling you how good you look, until someone distracts him with beer pong. You have to wonder if your roommate's guy is really on a beer run, or with another girl. These guys are all the same. You feel guilty for Chad introducing them. When the guy finally shows up, he does have beer in hand, but not nearly an hour’s worth when the store is just a few blocks away.

As you’re getting ready to leave, Chad steps in front of the door. He begs you to talk to him just for a few minutes. You refuse and open the door to leave, but he doesn’t back down. He yanks the door shut, then towers over you and pins you to the foyer wall.

Within seconds, the front door swings back open.

“Get your hands off her,” Joel booms as he charges in, then grabs Chad by the shirt and slams him up against the wall. Chad is an inch or two taller than Joel, and yet Joel seems to tower over him.

“You told your dad?” Chad asks you, incredulous.

“Get in the truck,” Joel tells you sternly, pointing out the door. You leave the door open behind you to watch and listen as you very slowly inch toward Joel's truck.

Joel tells him, “If she told her dad, you wouldn’t be breathin'. I'm fixin' to save your life right now."

He releases Chad just long enough for him to turn around and face him so it's a fair fight. Then, Joel decks Chad in the face. Chad goes stumbling across the foyer holding his jaw.

“Get in the truck, now!” Joel yells out the door at you, neck vein bulging, then pulls the door shut and stays inside with Chad.

You get in the truck and the shock catches up to you. You can’t stop the tears. Your mascara runs and you don’t have any tissues. You open the center console and don’t find any. He’s a man, of course he doesn’t have any. You open the glove box anyway. A few scattered condoms, no surprise there. Registration. Not much else. It's super shallow.

You lift the tray out. In the hidden chamber, there’s nothing but a gun and a cylinder. . .a silencer. In Texas, it'd be weirder if he didn't have a gun. But a silencer? Who is he, John Wick? What kind of contractor carries a silencer? . . . No. The blood drains from your face. You quickly replace the tray and close the glove box, your heart racing. Was it a bullet wound scar you caught a glimpse of at the pool?

The mental image of him pulling off his jeans makes you forget about the silencer. If your leggings weren't leather, you'd probably soak right through them.

Joel comes out and slams the door behind him. His muscles and veins bulge as he charges toward you.

"Are you okay?" He asks as he gets in the truck. He leans over to buckle you in. You can smell his sweat and musk.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"That's the guy you were seein' for damn near a year? That damn fool?"

"Don't," you warn.

You ride in silence and he calms down.

"Sorry," he says at a stoplight. He rests his massive hand loosely on your thigh. "I shouldn't'a said that " His veins are still bulging.

"You're right though," you sigh. Your eyes won't leave the vein on his hand.

You shift in your seat, the lightest contact of his big, masculine hand literally opening your legs. You fold your left heel under you, which has the effect of shifting his hand to your inner thigh. He inhales deeply but leaves his hand resting loosely on your inner thigh.

"Well, I reckon it's over now," he says.

He doesn't take his hand back until he needs it on the steering wheel.

"This isn't the way," you tell him.

"You're stayin' with me tonight," he responds, then stretches his jaw. “Got a suite on the river.”

You absently fiddle with the scrap of paper in your (his) left jacket pocket. You ask him what job he was coming back from. He does a double take and holds out his hand.

"Gimme that," he says sternly.

“I just like to hear about what you’re building.”

"Now."

"What, your trash?" you hand it over and he lifts his butt out of the seat to shove it in his pocket. In effect, the motion is a pelvic thrust. It makes you forget about everything else.

He's staying at one of the nicer hotels on the Riverwalk. He pulls up to the entrance and asks the valet for a minute.

Joel comes over and opens your door. "Come on, let's go." He notices the mascara on your face. "Shit." He pulls a first aid kit from under the seat and gives you an alcohol pad and uses one to clean the blood off his knuckles. He glances at the glove box contemplatively, but doesn't open it.

The lobby has an overly modern chandelier. He gives you a key card. On the elevator, you rest your head on his shoulder. It's a suite with two bedrooms. His stuff is already in one of them.

He gestures to the empty room, scratching the back of his neck, making his bicep look even more enormous. "If you want to, uh. . . Do you need anything? I can go to the store"

"Like what," you implore.

He leans against the door frame and crosses his imposing arms.

"I dunno what you need in general, so. I dunno," he shrugs. “You’ve got a toothbrush and stuff in there.” He nods to the bathroom.

"Is there a blanket?" You ask.

"You got it." He disappears, opens a few doors, and comes back with a blanket and the iPad. "Put a couple movies on there for ya. If you wanna cast one to the TV."

He swipes it open and gives it to you, and you almost want to cry. He can tell. He turns the TV to the right mode for you.

“You can wear something of mine if you want,” he offers, then leaves to take a shower.

“I always sleep in leather pants,” you say deadpan.

You may take him up on that later, but not now. You freshen up and take off his jacket then lie down on the bed, on top of the comforter, but under the blanket he fetched. You start watching Scream.

After his shower, he comes back in boxers and a t-shirt and asks if you're okay.

You were fine until he asked. You swallow down your emotions. "Stop asking me that." You sit up and pull your knees to your chest.

He approaches the bed and sits down on the edge. He lays a hand on your knee, and you ogle its masculine knuckles and prominent vein as he says "I know it's been a rough week." He doesn't seem to know what else to say, but his eyes look sincere.

You scoot over to make room for him on the bed and lift up the blanket. He lies down and lets you into the crook of his arm. He smells good. You watch most of the movie like that, not moving. Just inhaling his scent and lusting after him, your wits battling your carnal need. He falls asleep for awhile but wakes back up.

On the screen, Billy Loomis sucks blood off his own fingers. Joel says, “There he is.” He's seen your canvas tote bag with that image on it. “See? You’ve always had bad taste in men.”

You punch him in the chest playfully and he acts like it hurts. His smile kills you.

You’re on a bed with him, snuggled up with him, your head on his enormous bicep, and he feels far away. Why doesn’t he try to fuck you? It hits you like a punch in the gut that if you want something, you're going to have to take it. And God, you want something. You know better, but you want it.

You wet your lips and watch his face. The pattern of his facial hair is so perfect. Every little blank patch is perfectly placed. Every touch of gray and silver. It’s all of him, really. Every broken capillary on his skin, every line. It’s the most perfect design. It’s almost unbearable.

You hook your far leg over his. He glances at you. You pause the movie. He does a double take when he sees the way you’re looking at him. You’re trying to work up the courage to make a move. Your lips part, and your hand glides up his chest to his neck, resting by his vein. His heart rate quickens.

“Terrible taste,” he mutters, reading your eyes like a book.

You slowly lean in. He intercepts your mouth, controlling the nature of the kiss. He kisses half your bottom lip, then trails his lips down your chin. You tilt your chin up and he kisses its underside, open-mouth. He pivots over your leg to be on top of you with one leg between yours. His expansive hand runs down the side of your lacy top to your free leg, and he grabs your hamstring as your knee bends around him. Your hips lift and you grind into his thigh, desperate for whatever he’ll give you. He hardens against your inner thigh and you hear yourself gasp softly.

Joel gets between your legs entirely. He moves slowly. He lays his hardened boxers against your leather pants right where you throb and ache for him. His lips land lightly in the hollow of your neck, and he sucks gently. His hard-on only rolls into you once, sending a jolt of electricity through you before he cruelly takes it away as he works his way down your body.

He tenderly kisses your collarbone, then the lace border of your slutty top. He lifts your shirt up and you pull it over your head, along with your bra. His lips press between your breasts, his beard lightly tickling their soft skin. He palms one breast while his nose nudges your other nipple and they both harden painfully. He sucks just below your nipple and his hand trails down to your pants, grazing over your zipper, then engulfs your entire crotch. His flattened fingers rolling firmly but gently into your clit, over your pants. He breathes heavily.

You arch your back and he breathes, “God almighty,” before taking your other tit into his mouth.

Then, he continues his slow journey down your body. He plants two open-mouth kisses on your stomach. You’ve never been so wet or ready. His kisses trail down below your belly-button, to your leather pants.

All this instead of just kissing you on the mouth like you wanted. It feels like heaven, but it also doesn’t sit right.

"It's not happening," you say.

"What?"

"I'm not gonna fuck you." You're saying it to yourself more than to him.

"Oh, I'm not gonna let you, sugar," he rumbles in a near-whisper. Then, his nose digs into the leather between your legs.

"Just wanna taste you. Make you forget everything else."

He has both his thumbs on your mound and presses his mouth into just the right spot, a wave of pleasure washing over you, lifting your hips. His mouth presses and consumes you slowly, but so hungrily that his beard would be hurting you if your pants weren’t on. You're already twitching.

He looks up and his tired eyes swallow you whole.

You feel exposed. You’re extremely aroused, and he feels far away. You would much rather be making out, with his whole body wrapped around you, his hardness grinding into you. Still, you can't deny this feels very, very good.

His fingers curl into the front of your waistband, and he looks up.

“I'm not into that," you tell him. “Can you kiss me?”

“I’m about to. Ever had it from a grown man?” he asks. “Or hell, a woman?" he adds.

You don't answer.

“You don’t know if you’re into it.”

He craves you badly - it’s all over his face. You do want to see how hot he looks doing it.

"You have thirty seconds to convince me," you tell him.

"Only need ten." You're throbbing so bad that might be all it takes, period.

His thumbs unbutton you. He starts to unzip you and inhales sharply when he sees you're commando. You let him peel off your pants. He does it slowly, looking at your pussy like a juicy burger the whole time. He pauses to thumb you, like he can’t resist.

“Fuck me,” he says when he feels how wet you are. He thumbs your clit with one hand while pulling your pants down with the other. Then he finishes taking them off, prowls back toward you, arms bulging, and puts your thighs over his muscular shoulders.

It's surreal seeing Joel between your legs. He feels your naked breast and hooks his other hand under your thigh, holding your hip loosely. Tension is coiling deep in your core, throbbing, looming, tighter, more desperate than you knew it could be.

The hand on your breast slips down your torso as he kisses your inner thighs, his beard scratching you lightly. He plants a kiss on your mound, opens his mouth, and licks his way down to your clit. He’s careful not to drag his facial hair against your most sensitive skin. He nudges the side of your clit with the bridge of his nose. You throb and squirm, and his large hands on your hips hold you still. He seals his mouth around your clit and the top half of your dripping seam. He applies suction while his strong tongue languidly laps you.

With a groan, you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You want his cock. You can hardly stand it.

Between heavy breaths, you tell him, “Time’s up. Come here.”

But he keeps devouring your pussy. You tangle your fingers in his hair and whine, “Joel, please” and he laps you more firmly, makes eye contact with you. He flicks his tongue, sucks, drags his tongue down, plunges his tongue inside you and you moan.

“Take your cock out,” you tell him. You're aching to be filled.

He pulls his face away, shiny and red from the nose down, replacing it with his hand. He pulls his boxers down. The sight of it makes your temples weak. He thumbs your clit and slips one, then two fingers inside you, making your head fall back as you clench around him. It’s not what you want, but it’s so much better than nothing.

"So tight," he marvels. He gathers your wetness and lubes himself with you. Not what you had in mind. You at least want to feel his hardness against you. You beg him upward toward you, but he won’t go.

He strokes his stiff manhood as his head returns between your legs, his tongue tracing your folds up to your clit. You begin to squirm and he holds you down with one hand, a sight that makes you weak. He hums "Mmm" and moans into the apex of your folds. You're throbbing desperately, your hips move on their own, and he must feel it.

"Come for me, sugar," he mumbles into your warmth. Then he opens his jaw, firmly plants his lips, and digs in again.

Your thighs tremble, threatening to close in on his cheeks. You dig your head into the pillow. With each pass of his tongue, each push of his lips, the tension in your core coils tighter until it can’t hold anymore and springs open all at once. As your hips lift against his mouth, his lips press back and he swallows you hungrily.

Pleasure blooms from your core in rhythmic pulses. Your arms and thighs jerk randomly in unison, your abs lift you off the pillow. You’re a prisoner to the pleasure, moving at its will, until your climax wanes. The release floods your chest and you pry his head off you. You finger his clean, messy hair.

Joel flattens his fingers to take more wetness from you and you shudder with an aftershock. He sits up on his knees and his brow furrows painfully. You're too busy memorizing the look on his face to fully appreciate the way his ass clenches as he starts to come. Relief covers his face and he grunts as his hot load shoots onto your stomach.

He pulls his boxers back up, sits back on his knees, and breathes. His tan, masculine hands affectionately rub your thighs, and you watch his chest rise and fall. Somehow he never looks vulnerable, even right after he comes.

Joel steps away and comes back with tissues. He cleans you up and runs you a bath.

"Good night, Trouble." His thumb affectionately brushes your temple and he kisses you on the head. Then, he goes to his own room.

tysm for any reblogs/comments, I love to know what y'all are thinking 🫶

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