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chuelectrico20 · 19 hours ago

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Another Movie Tails analysis

Yes, another one because I think his writing is interesting. This time it's about his relation to the Wachowski family now far warning it's more with Sonic and Knuckles but I got little tidbits with Tom and Maddie that I think are important.

Firstly it's important to establish that game Tails and movie Tails are different characters and that comes down to their introduction, movie Tails is way more independent and self-reliant. From the get-go, Tails is living on his own (likely away from his village no parents in sight or ever mentioned), and all his gear compared to his game counterparts' introduction mech and transportation is heavily weapon and defense-based(boomerang, ray gun, anti-gravity thing) so it's safe to say he doesn't hesitate to defend himself and how leaving his planet was an easy choice. Add to that Tails compared to Knuckles and Sonic had a choice to leave home, nothing like losing family or friends since everyone in his village thought of him as a freak, and if we go by the novel and Drone Home bits of dialog he was likely abandoned by his family. These are bits that I already went over in this thread about movie Tail Insecurities and why the way he acts in these films so read that if you want. The main takeaway now is what that means with his interactions with his family and I do mean family while Tails in his mind would hesitate to call anyone family because of how he perceives himself no doubt in anyone minds that they love the little guy as their brother and their kid.

Let's start with Sonic, iconic duo we know. Again though movie Sonic and Tails don't have that same type of bond like game Sonic and Tails, moreso game Sonic acts both as a guardian/brother/mentor towards Tails being that Sonic helped Tails by inspiring him to become better and practically raising him throughout their interactions to where now Sonic can crash over at Tails place whenever, a real special unbreakable bond. Movie Sonic is more childish and less of a guardian and more of a big brother who just wants to have fun with his bro more than anything and Tails gladly accepts this (as shown in Drone Home). Tails can come of more mature than Sonic and gets more annoyed by Sonics antics but as shown throughout movie 3 he understands that's just how Sonic is, Tails admires Sonic no doubt about it, them being so different compared to other aliens like them makes them get along and even if they can easily get on each other's nerves more easily compared to their game counterparts they still have one another back when it matters. Sonic loves having Tails around, Tails is basically the reason why Knuckles and Sonic get along, how Sonic survives his reencounter with Eggman, why Sonic starts realizing he has alot more growing up to do, he's the catalyst for so much and more importantly how Sonic realizes he has a family now.

"I'm really glad you're here Tails."

"I'm glad I'm here too Sonic."

Tails and Knuckles I'm really happy also get to have a relationship that's individual from Sonic. Knuckles actually shows a lot of respect towards Tails even after getting run over by him likewise Tails recognizes Knuckles as a powerful warrior known throughout the galaxy that plane scene between actually says alot on how Knuckles and Tails are willing to get along with anyone so long if they have the sane goal in mind and even then Tails is still hesitate with Knuckles (for obvious reasons lol) though their teamwork shines through in that final act of movie 2 even getting to team up to specifically distract Eggman. Afterwards they both get along extremely well, at the baseball end scene where Knuckles carries Tails on his shoulder, in Drone Home with Knuckles being so direct in calling Tails monolog sad, or movie nights where it's established how often Knuckles gets scared and automatically grabs Sonic and Tails hands out of fear (little detail with Tails already eyeing Knuckles hand even before he grabs it) no doubt they're comfortable around each other. The biggest show of their relationship is definitely when Knuckles comes to Tails defense after Sonic in an emotional state tells off Tails after trying to comfort him. It shows that Tails is just a kid at the end of the day even if he's mature for his age and Knuckles emotional maturity being the oldest of the 3 and the most experienced.

"Ha ha! He does look like a Pokémon! Pika~ pika~!"

The Team in general is important to Tails throughout movie 3. He’s the one that goes along with the name Team Sonic, the one that reprimands Sonic for going off on his own, the one that explains his dynamic with Stone as the gadget guy and the one that desperately tries to hold on to it after Sonic tells him off stating, "I thought the three of us were a team? I thought that’s what made us special?" Though after their argument and everything settles Tails and Knuckles save Sonic and when all three of them are together in the fields it shows how much they all truly care for each other. I think specifically Tails in that scene shows how much of a little kid he is, he’s so so small in Knuckles arms, he’s the closest to look like he’s about to cry at Sonic’s apology and the motion from both Sonic and Knuckles to bring it in without saying a word, yeah he’s found his home.

"How about, just Team."

Tom and Maddie get a section together because sadly Tails has the least amount of on screen interactions with them (Tails spin off Tails spin off Tails spin off please) but the dialogue in reference to Tails helps in understanding their relation to one another. The Wachowski’s obviously view the kids as their children as stated in movie 2, Knuckles spin off, and movie 3. Specifically in the Knuckles spin off when Knuckles is grounded after basically turning their living room into an arena Tails points out how Knuckles throne was made at of "our car" which is just a really sweet detail of how at home Tails feels. Then in movie 3 in the infiltration scene they’re the ones that follow Tails plan the most without pushback unlike the other two silly scene but they really trust Tails and his ideas. Before that the scene at the race Tom mentions his brothers and healthy sibling rivalry again showing how much they consider all of them their children and the comparison in Tom wanting to instill good values for all of them. And final tidbit in the German dub of Sonic movie 3 Tails calls Tom daddy in the final group hug scene aghhhhhh my heart.

I think movie Tails is seriously under appreciated and all too dismissed by many because of his standing next to the other characters with their moments but I hope again you see Tails is interesting in his own right maybe not with flashy or grandiose moments like the others but his smaller actions that move the plot of these stories and effects on other characters again movie 2 wouldn’t happen at all if not for Tails I just think he’s great and I know his family think he’s great too, and hopefully he also feels loved despite his insecurities.

#sonic movie #sonic movie 3 #sonic cinematic universe #tails the fox #tails wachowski #sonic wachowski #knuckles the echidna #knuckles wachowski #tom wachowski #maddie wachowski #sonic the hedghog movie #sonic movie 2 #sonic movie universe #movie tails #movie sonic #movie knuckles #analysis #movie analysis

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noxcheshire · 2 years ago

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No keep going

This is what I live for 🤌🏼

I’m trying to think on how the batfam find out that Damian had been sabotaging their leads for his own gain.

Did he make a mistake?

Or did one of the siblings (going off of previous comments let’s say Tim) noticed how odd Damian had been.

A little too quiet, a little too eager to linger against the shadows to listen in on their search — and when they turn, digging to understand why the new kid who had showed nothing but hostility to Danny suddenly became as silent as the grave?

Oh, the anger and heartache.

Maybe deep down everyone had hoped that perhaps Damian had taken their scolding’s to heart, their insistence and proof of their own love for Danny, to heart. Now they saw that wasn’t the case.

Damian had his own agenda to make.

When it is brought to everyone else’s attention, what face will they make? What acts will they take?

Because they had been running themselves ragged trying to find their youngest brother, only to find out that everything they had looked into was nothing more than a falsehood.

Damian won’t give in, he refused to.

He is very willing to cut where he must to be rid of Danny for good.

And Bruce… Bruce looks back at the spitting image of Danny. Yet can’t find even a little bit of Danny there.

Danny has never made that face before, of someone whose willing to burn to see their way through. Of someone willing and eager to sink their claws down and drag out the last breath of something they perceived —

Danny had always been a shy child. Hesitant, but hopeful.

He was a loving child.

One who had smiled like the sun when his siblings helped to hang up stars on the ceiling of his room.

One that dogged Tim’s footsteps with big, guileless, blue eyes as the elder boy spun tales for a child that was never allowed to be.

One that clung to Dick’s back, giggling into black hair when the eldest would dramatically turn on his heels, playing pretend just to hear Danny laugh.

One that curled up at Cass’s legs like a kitten that had a long day and wanted a moment of companionship, tiny and small, tucked by an old used blanket that Cass had seen better days with.

Danny couldn’t even sleep well unless someone cuddled him to sleep.

Damian was none of those things.

But Bruce still searched for something familiar, anything that could make the heat in his chest cool to a simmer, and then he sees it.

That faint shadow in Damian’s eyes that sometimes Danny got too, if he was alone for too long.

It was a shadow of fear, of hesitance, and uncertainty.

No one ever never knew why Danny always had that look in his eyes, but it was the reason why everyone would assure that Danny was never left alone. They didn’t want him to linger on sad things, terrible things, things that made him hide around the manor for hours even while they called for him frantically.

Bruce willed himself to calm even while his children argued amongst themselves, their shadows heavy and long even where Damian stood glowering back tensely at them.

“There will be consequence for this,”

Bruce’s voice broke through the noise and the room fell into tense silence.

“What you have been doing, there will be consequence for it, Damian.” Bruce made sure that this time, Damian would only hear the stern, disappointment from him. He could see the way the boy tensed at the tone, back straight and at attention.

“Danny will be returning to this family — alive. Safe. And unharmed, physically or mentally. After that…”

Bruce wasn’t even sure what to do, truth be told. What can he do with years of taught hate like this?

“We will return to this.”

Bruce turns away, returning to his search for Danny.

The children wait, silent, before shuffling after him in an eagerness to pick up the search with better results.

Dick is the only one to lean into Bruce, muttering a soft, complicated, “B,”

“I know,” he shoots back. “But not right now. Danny has been out there for too long,” and that is the truth.

Danny had been gone for far too long. So much longer than a kid his age should be.

He might have grown up part of the LoA, but he had been so very young when Bruce had extracted him out, bleeding and slowly dying in his arms.

Danny, once safe from Death’s embrace, from there had lived far more like a civilian child.

Bruce had wanted him to, and Danny for his part, was far too willing to be that child.

He feared what sort of situations Danny could be experiencing out in the world now, just a kid, all by himself, hurting and hungry.

The fact that all their progress had some form of sabotage didn’t help Bruce’s mounting frustration. They would all have to scrape everything they had found and go through everything again with a fine tooth comb just to make sure there were no discrepancies.

Months passed that way, retracing every step to see where things had gone wrong.

Months of rerouting every clue and every path Danny might have taken before it had been wiped clean.

Months that led to sleepless nights, and Bruce still reeling in a tumbling daydream of all horrific possibilities when he heard Flash speaking.

He had been tuning the other man out for days now. He had been doing that for everyone, really.

But something the man said made him shake off the constant voices to actually look at the man.

He was grinning excitedly, vibrating as he swung a picture around towards Bruce like one would swing a treat in front of a dog.

Bruce, Batman, scowled.

“I’m telling ya, Bats! He looks like he could be one of yours!” Flash laughs, and finally allows Batman to see.

Batman, Bruce, lunges.

Flash yells in surprise, quickly moving to the other side of the room just before Batman’s fingers could graze across his collarbone.

Bruce snarls.

That was Danny.

“Take me to him. Now.”

He laid there on the ground, letting the cold sink into his bones as he bled out. Deep down, Danny had known for a long time this was coming. He was the Shadow, the Spare. The Inferior. He'd always been the shame of his family. After all, what good was an assassin that didn't kill?

That's why he knew it'd only be a matter of time before Grandfather got rid of him. He just never expected it to be like this. Struck down by his own brother. In hindsight, it made sense. It was a way for Damian to be completely initiated before his first mission and to cut off the rotted rope of the Al Ghul line.

It made sense, Danny repeated to himself, but it didn't stop the hurt. The pain that cut deeper than the sword to his gut. Damian hadn't even hesitated. He'd picked up his weapon and charged as soon as Grandfather had told them to begin the duel. Sure, he'd known Damian was never too fond of him. And maybe sometimes he'd thrown knives at Danny whenever he called him "Dami". But he always thought there was at least some form of affection between them. After all, they were twins. Yet Damian had ran him through as easily as breathing. He hadn't even spared a glance back as he left with Grandfather and Mother. None of them had.

Danny couldn't help but weakly chuckle. To think this was how his second death would go. Being stabbed by his own brother.

As his consciousness began to fail him, Danny distantly heard was sounded like a plane. Maybe a jet. He heard once that people can hallucinate before they died. Funny, he always figured he'd hear a train or something. Maybe a family member calling his name sweetly. Instead Danny heard heavy footsteps charging towards him. Gloved hands picked him up and held him close to a chest as an unknown voice whispered, "I've got you."

Ah, he realized what was happening. This was his mind's desperate attempt to give him some comfort in his final moments. It was nice, feeling cared for like this. He couldn't remember the last time he had been. Danny quietly thanked his mind for the blissful illusion, before his consciousness fully faded away.

(Bruce finds out he has a son and goes to rescue him. He gets there just in time to stop Danny from bleeding out and leaves, not knowing he's leaving his other son behind.)

#dp x dc #delicious delicious tags #wonder how it's gonna go when the batfam eventually finds out what damian has been doing #they're not going to abandon him or anything #but i feel like the consequences will be steep #after all he attempting to kill his brother/ their family member #and sabotaging all leads #danny meanwhile is slowly but surely being taken care of by the flash family #he doesn't fully trust them #he never will #< prev tags #WINTER I AM VIBRATING #WINTER I AM FROTHING #I love this so much omg #big brain winteeeeer #I’m trying to decide if I want the batfam to feel psychologically divided on how they should feel about Damian #I think it’d be very neat for them to feel guilty on disliking Damian but they can’t help it bc they have known Danny for far longer #he was a sweet kid that wanted to be loved and they were all too eager to love him too so he has a special place in their hearts #Damian they have known for only a handful of hours before Danny ran and then even less bc they’re trying to find Danny #but keep having to argue with Damian who is set on hating Danny and now wanting to actively kill him?! their previous sympathy shrinks #I am so sorry stabby child I love you and you will have your redemption but not right now #the Flash family will definitely fight for custody #I just feel it #I’m going to treat Danny from here on out as a feral cat turned house pet turned feral cat #this is bringing back so many insecurities and I don’t think he’ll be able to trust the batfam either after everything

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thechildbesuffering · 10 months ago

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au where lbd is not killed at the end of season 3, but instead stripped of her powers and effectively turned human. she'd get to see the world from a mortal's perspective and further understand mk and the others' notions regarding the world's imperfections. i also want her to work at pigsy's in place of mk when he's training or not present. and you can't tell me that she would find a favorite pass time after a while. she'll sound hypocritical insulting people's "sentimentality for mortal pleasures".

#lmk #lego monkie kid #lmk lbd #lmk lady bone demon #lego monkie kid lbd #lego monkie kid lady bone demon #jin shut up #lbd lmk #lady bone demon lmk #lbd lego monkie kid #lady bone demon lego monkie kid #i've been obsessed with her having a redemption arc/second wind since season 3 came out #i actually need one #please please please #and no sorry the mayor does not get shit in this au #where did he go #remember when we thought he was one of the ten kings?#he's mortal now so he doesn't matter #guess he'll die /ref #what if he just becomes the mayor for real #and not just wearing a suit and having mei be justifiably skeptical of him #i mean like actually being responsible for the city #in the au lbd feels bad for abandoning him since he was like the one person she had on her side for the longest time #maybe they should reunite in my au #but they don't date or anything #they literally just do nothing but together #he was literally her hype man in season 3 #i want that #but they're both mortal #and he just encourages her to be a little shit

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llycaons · 9 months ago

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lwj CAN be petty and jealous but the actual main reason he hates jc is because he thinks jc fucking killed wwx and because jc continues to harass, threaten, mock, and humiliate wwx so nice fucking try but no, media comprehension failed on this day

#source: he never fucking disliked jc in the flashback for jealousy reasons he just didn't like him very much as a person #if anything jc was more defensive and threatened bc he was upset wwx was abandoning him to have other friends #lwj wouldn't have any reason to be jealous either like jc is wwxs shidi ofc they're going to be close.l #they DO work together immediately pre-nightless too...they hate each other postres bc of how wwx died #lwjs loyalty aggravates jc just as jcs callousness aggravates lwj #and yes jc is a jealous asshole who lashes out and constantly criticizes wwx and lwj for being together #while lwj while has a jealous petty asshole streak he is the one who gently encouraged wwx to try to talk w jc again as they are brothers #so no it's not the same. blocked. blocked. blocked. get you and your bad opinions out of my sight #cor.txt

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coachbeards · 4 days ago

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jane being pregnant already by the s3 finale...and that being why beard got off the plane..lmao

#pregnancy tw #could you imagine beard finding out sometime before mom city esp and that tying in with his complicated feelings #about his past + what he's done to ted + his family abandoning him #how he's noticeably off but doesn't tell ted yet and then ted says they're going home and he still hasn't said anything and #then somehow he's on the plane after not sleeping for three days because how is he going to tell ted and

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into-the-milgramverse · 3 months ago

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Fuuta crash out when

(don't mind the tags, i'm talking to fuuta)

#latching onto anything that can bring some sense of safety and reduce pain (even if just mentally). and what then.#how's that going for you buddy? when the pain lessens and voices quiet down. do all the thoughts just come crashing down on you?#do you think about your friends who abandoned you? the ones you got so attached to but they couldn't give less shit about you?#the ones who didn't feel even slightest bit of guilt like you did or else they'd also be in this damned prison suffering alongside you #the ones who looked the other way and let you take the full hit of the actions they've participated in so they don't face the consequences #do you think of your family? do you wonder if they're worried why you're gone? or do you feel like they haven't noticed at all?#or maybe it doesn't surprise you. your sister has her own life. you've never been close to your dad. and your mom is out of the picture.#does the guilt eat you up alive? do you feel on some level that you deserved what happened to you?#you've always seeked approval from others. to be told you're right. that you're doing good. how is this any different?#you need someone to tell you that it's not your fault the things happened that way. that you never intended any actual harm towards anyone.#saying being forgiven or not no longer matters but you don't really feel that way. it very much does matter to you.#do you still think of haruka? your new style choices. don't some of them feel inspired by him? was that intentional?#did you feel responsible for him? do you feel like you failed to save him? do you feel like you should have tried harder?#do you also think back on mahiru? she couldn't have been saved though. it was already too late for her.#you both faced injuries from same person. you wanted to die. she wanted to continue living. to show the power of her love.#and yet here you are. alive while she's gone. at very least you gave her some good memories in her last moments by being kind towards her.#do you think about amane? are you worried she may take the hit because of you? all she wanted to do is help you. to ease your pain.#but will warden see it that way? you probably hear the voices say it so already — that they want to vote her guilty this trial.#they want her dead. they want to kill her. the very girl who did her best to save you is now gonna die because of you.#yet another child will die because of you. it feels like you're infecting others with your bad luck.#the guilt of what happened. of what will happen. it's burning. it's painful.#but maybe if you believe hard enough at some all knowing being up above you'll somehow save everyone and yourself. maybe.

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murderofravens · 4 months ago

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DUSK TILL DAWN

pairing: hwang inho/young-il/frontman x fem reader.

part: 1/3 [finished]

warnings: age gap (reader is 20, inho is in his late 40s) slowburn. oral fixation. thigh riding. plot with porn. yearning. sexual tension. canon compliant. slight infantilization. no y/n used.

summary: he promised that you will make it out alive. he will make sure of it, no matter what it takes.

word count: 6.5k

SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

please ignore any mistakes.

as you wipe the blood from your face, the reality of your situation sets in. you never thought you'd get used to the smell of blood— much less the sight of it. or the texture. and now you're covered in it. the white of your uniform splattered with crimson, the metallic smell of it almost overwhelming. in a situation like the one you're in, you can only laugh. the mere sight of blood used to make you feel faint; make you want to throw up because you're squeamish. now you're covered in it from head to toe.

it's not yours. it's of the people they shot dead during the second game.

you barely remember how you made it out alive. the second one was all thanks to your team— thanos and nam-gyu were the closest to your age, and teaming up with them worked in your favour. your age and gender was a liability to the others, but they were kind enough to take you in. or perhaps they were thinking with their dicks. would it really matter either way?

but with the way they act, you're not sure if you want to continue being in a team with them. especially since thanos keeps trying to woo you with his poor rapping skills. they're way too loud and reckless for you, and you're scared they might get you killed. they're not willing to give up the game anytime soon, either.

then there's the first game— you're alive, because of 456. that crazy man who supposedly had played the games before. if it wasn't for him pulling you behind his back, you would've left the premises in a cardboard box. especially because you fucking sneezed as soon as the doll turned back.

since then, you've decided you don't want to play this game anymore. 456 has been desperately trying to change the other's mind— but they're greedy and insistent. you pressed the cross for his sake, and for the others, and for yourself. hell, you can live in debt, but what use is that money if you die trying? you're not that much of a hard worker. you value your life above anything else.

you walk over to their team— 456, and his two loud team members. another man is sitting there— player 001. the one who ruined your chance of going home on the first vote. he seems ordinary, but you know of him because you saw him beat the shit out of thanos. that was another reason you decided to abandon that team— you could not be seen with a bully, or a loser. as you approach him, you give him a slight nod of acknowledgement, which he returns. you turn your attention to 456, and thank him profusely for what he did for you. he's kind, you'll give him that. you like kind people.

"if you don't mind me asking—" a voice interrupts, and you look over your shoulder. it's player 001. he looks at you curiously. "how old are you?"

"old enough." you retort cheekily. he doesn't look amused as he cocks his head to the side.

"i'm curious as to why a little kid like you would compromise herself for money."

that shuts you up. you're offended, to say the least. who is he to call you a little kid? the entire team also looks on, seemingly baffled. the question makes sense. you're sure you're the youngest out of all players. and people can tell because you look it too. you don't really know how to respond, so you just look on with a frown, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

"forgive me—" he lets out an awkward chuckle, "i didn't mean it the wrong way. i'm just worried."

you give him an uneasy smile, rubbing the back of your neck. the others go back to their conversations, and you shrug. he shoots a glance towards gi-hun before sitting back down and shifting slightly, as if making room for you. you take a seat beside him. there's silence before he glances at the symbol on your jacket— the cross.

"i'm sorry." he says with a small smile, looking straight ahead, "you wanted to go home but you had to continue because of me. i put a kid in danger."

"i'm not a kid," you huff softly, straightening up, "i'm twenty. but yeah, you should be sorry."

you give him a small smile to ensure he knows that the last line is lighthearted. he seems to understand and returns it.

"dont worry about it," you sigh, fiddling with the zip of your jacket, "im sure you had your reasons. just like i have mine for coming here."

"and your parents?" he asks. he's so polite, it warms your heart. polite and soft spoken. and visibly tough. probably some officer, you think, judging by his skills you previously saw.

"that's what i need the money for." you sigh, leaning back against the bunker. "i need enough money to establish myself. continue my studies. bring my mom and my sister to come live with me. settle off my father's debts because he's a coward who decided to pass down his sins onto his daughter."

he raises his eyebrows, and you take a sharp breath. there's a moment of silence between you two— you think for a moment, and feel your eyes get slightly glassy. you're not going to cry in front of a stranger. you put on a brave face. "if i die here, my mother—"

he stares at you silently, before putting a comforting hand on your shoulder, interrupting your cursed sentence. "you'll make it out alive."

the doors open, and the staff comes in again. they reveal the number of players left, showcase the money that each person would get, and then the voting starts again.

this time, player 001 doesn't disappoint you. he goes first, and clicks on the cross. the hope it gives you eventually shatters as more and more players begin to vote in favour of continuing the game. you see 456 get increasingly agitated as he begins to make his way towards the front of the crowd. before he can speak, he's interrupted.

001's voice rings out loud and authoritative, and worried. he reprimands the voters in favour, calls them out on their selfishness.

"we'll all die if we keep playing!" he chastises the crowd urgently. "you have to survive first, or there won't be a next step—"

"there's no next step for us!" he's interrupted by player 100. a stout old man who had been at odds against 456 since the start— you remember him having 10 billion won in debt. it makes you snicker. he eggs on the crowd. "with that money, we won't be able to pay our debts. we need to play one more game, then the money will increase to 240 million. with that we can pay atleast a little of our debts! isn't that right!?"

"you're going to die trying!" you snap, making your way to the front of the crowd. you glare at player 100, at all his little supporters cheering at the back. "your greed is going to get you killed. how can you be so confident to say that you'll survive the next game? what if you die?"

"you shut up, young lady!" he hisses, mouth scrunching bitterly. "is that how you speak to your elders? your brain is too small to comprehend real life problems. we can't continue with our lives with that little money!"

"continue your lives?" a laugh bubbles out of your throat. "look at that greying head of yours, you barely have a life ahead of you! why don't you let us live ours?!"

that seems to have ticked him off, because he quite literally turns red as he takes a threatening step towards you.

"what did you just say?"

"i said—" you step forward, shooting him a challenging glare, "you're too old to be playing children's games. vote wisely and let us go home."

he lets out a snarl before trying to lunge at you, but you're pulled back as player 001 steps between the two of you. like a wall. he looks at the old man, eyes cold, his voice low. "that's enough."

since the incident with thanos, nobody has really tried anything with 001. it's obvious enough they're intimidated by him, and they don't want to be on the receiving end of his wrath. 100 doesn't either, with the way he collects himself and steps back, embarrassed. you look over 001's shoulder, make eye contact with the old man and shoot him a taunting smile. you know it's childish, but you've resented him from the start.

before the old man can say anything, player 001 drags you to the side where you can't argue with people anymore. and the voting continues.

"you can't talk to people like this," he says lowly, gaze focused on the crowd. staring at something that you can't figure out. "you never know what they might do."

you huff bitterly. you know what he means.

"i don't care. i fucking hate bullies."

"potty mouth." he chastises, but theres a smirk on his face. he's teasing. you chuckle.

"remember you need to get out of here alive." he repeats, looking at you with an intensity that is almost terrifying. "you can't do that if you keep this up."

"jeez, okay dad." you joke, rolling your eyes. your words make him smile lightly.

"thanks for having my back there." you tell him sincerely. he looks at you for a bit before nodding in acknowledgement.

the voting ends, and they announce that the games will continue tomorrow. it makes your heart drop.

that night, you feel uneasy when you try to sleep. your clothes stick to your skin, and the side of your face keeps itching. with an irritated grumble, you get off the bunker and walk over to your new friend's side. you squint your eyes before looking for 001— and when you find him, you gently shake him.

"are you sleeping?" you whisper.

he opens his eyes, wincing slightly before sitting up. his voice is hushed as he responds, "not anymore. what is it?"

you bite your lower lip nervously before reluctantly asking, "will you go to the restroom with me? i'm kinda scared to go alone."

he blinks at you, confused. you continue out of sheer desperation.

"those guards just stare weirdly with their weird little masks and it makes me nervous." you hope your voice doesn't shake as you speak. "last time one of them kept knocking on the door while i was in the washroom and it just— scared the shit out of me. and my face is itching and i really need to go. please?"

he listens patiently. for a moment you think he'd decline but he just sighs and nods, and you cheer just a little as he steps out and follows you to the door. you bang on it, loudly telling the guards that you need to go. one of them opens the sliding window, and then immediately opens the door. it makes you feel strange, because usually it takes a lot more effort to convince them. either way, you're grateful.

you know your better option would've been to take one of the girls with you, but the sad fact is you haven't had the chance to get friendly with any of the female players yet. and for some reason, player 001 makes you feel a sense of safety and security that is almost strange— you feel at ease around him.

"i'll be in the men's room," he tells you, and you nod. he shoots a glance to the guard standing outside the women's restroom before walking away. you quickly go inside, and the first thing you do is splash water on your face.

you quickly clean the blood off your skin, holding back the urge to cry. you scrub at your cheeks till you're sure you can scratch the itch away for good. your nails dig a little too deep, and a little blood oozes out of the scratches on the side of your face. you clean that too, and then try to scrub the splatters of blood off your t-shirt. it's white, and you have no soap— so the stains remain. a faint reminder. you take your time, and anticipate the knocking— but it never comes.

you look in the mirror, at your tired face and sunken eyes, before giving yourself a nod and stepping out. 001 is waiting for you outside, looking to the side. he gives you an odd look as you step out, before walking alongside you.

"are you alright?" he asks gently, concerned. kind as ever.

you look at him again, give him a nod. "thank you."

when you two reach the room, he returns the smile with one of his own.

as you make your way to the bunker, he grabs your shoulder, "why don't you start sleeping on our side?" he says quietly, "join the team. there's a bed near mine. you won't feel so scared that way."

you blink, trying to see his face in the darkness. the offer is enticing— and most of all, it warms your heart.

"really?" you ask hopefully.

"really." he says kindly.

you follow him to the bunker, and he covers the railing with his hand to avoid you getting hurt as you bend down to get into the bed. he looks at the slightly wet patches on your shirt— blinks before getting a bedsheet and putting it over you. "get some sleep. we got a game to play tomorrow."

you smile softly at him. as he turns to get into his own bed, you grab his hand. it's warm against yours— big and rough. you don't allow your mind to drift that way. it's not right. he looks at you, gaze questioning.

"thanks again," you say softly, "it means a lot to me."

he leans down a little to ruffle your hair before going back to his bed and laying down. you close your eyes and drift to sleep— unaware that he stays up, thinking.

breakfast is boring— bread and milk. you sit on the bed, scowling. player 456 is surprised as he sees you there, before you two share understanding smiles. you bow a little and he bows back before going along with his friend. 001 comes to sit by you then, munching on his own breakfast.

"i miss home," you mumble, "how am i supposed to survive on just this? it's not even chocolate milk."

001 laughs, "don't worry, you can have whatever you want once you get out of here."

"will i?"

he looks at you, raising his eyebrows. you take his silence as a cue to continue, "im scared i'll die in here."

he looks down, before shifting to be closer to you. "you made it this far, didn't you?"

you look at him, voice getting shaky. "and what if i dont make it till the end? what if i die here and my family thinks i abandoned them? i don't want to die. i haven't even lived my life yet."

his expression is hard to read. "you'll make it out of here alive," he tells you with conviction, "ill make sure of it."

your lips wobble as you stare at him, and he smiles before poking you in the nose. "finish your food. you need the energy for the next game. we'll make it out alive, then we'll try to get the voters on our side and go home. sound good?"

you snort, rolling your eyes before nodding. "sounds good."

he gives you his bread then, tells you to eat more. when you protest, he sends a warning glare your way— the one with a quirked eyebrow and a knowing gaze. you roll your eyes, and happily eat it.

you were hungry. perhaps he can tell things like that. you're just grateful.

today, you decided to be a little rebellious. when you first joined the games, you used to spend a long time in the bathrooms— analyzing, looking for a way out. during that time, you'd discovered that one of the screws in the ceiling vent was loose. you hadn't really bothered checking it before, but since it's daytime and you have some time before the next game, you decide to explore.

your hairclip works— the screws were not tightly fixed, so it unscrewed easily. you'd contemplated checking it out last night, but you didn't want to take any risks, especially since player 001 was with you. so now whatever you do, the responsibility will be yours.

when the bathroom gets empty and all the women leave, you pull it down and try climbing up. it's moments like these that you can pride yourself on your agility— work that usually required two people, you could do alone. with one leg on the flush and the other on the top of the cubicle, you climbed up, scratching the side of your arm slightly before finally getting in the vents. you groaned to yourself, and then started crawling inside. there were two ways to go— you chose the left one. you looked down, trying to understand the layout of the place where you were practically held hostage. you keep crawling, making sure not to make too much noise before finally seeing a place through the gaps that you hadn't seen before— you carefully remove the screws and pull it apart.

the place looks empty. the walls are all sorts of pink and green. you put your head down and look both ways, seeing a door at the end of the hallway. carefully, you climb down and lower yourself to the ground with a thump. your shoulder hurts a little. you stand up, and aim for the door. as soon as you begin walking, you hear footsteps. it's as if someone splashed cold water on you— you realize the grave mistake you just made. guards walk here with guns, and you made the impulsive decision to explore a dangerous place like this by yourself?

you look around, running towards the other end of the hallway. the footsteps get louder, and as you look over your shoulder, something grabs you. out of reflex, you go to scream, but a hand clamps down on your mouth, and your back collides with a hard chest.

"shh, it's me." the voice hisses. your wide eyes look up, scared, before realizing who it is.

player 001.

your chest heaves as you break out into a sweat, a tear rolling down your cheek. he keeps you in a tight hold, looking to the side, your breath dampening his hand. the footsteps suddenly become faint, as if walking away. your breaths sync together, and after a moment, he relaxes.

he takes his hand off your mouth before harshly twisting you to face him. his voice is hushed but angry, "what were you thinking?!"

"what are you doing here?" you whisper shakily at the same time.

"everyone was back in the room except you. i came to find you!" he chides, eyes hard. he shakes you slightly, "do you really plan to get killed like this? is this how you want to die? can you go one moment without being a reckless brat—"

his words make you want to cower in on yourself.

"i wanted to find a way out." you try to sound assertive, but your voice betrays you. your words come out panicked, "I wanted to help and— fuck— i got you in trouble too— you shouldn't have come looking for me! fuck— how are we gonna make it out of here?"

he sighs, squeezing his eyes shut before looking at you tiredly. "the game is about to start. we'll mix in with the crowd when they leave, i doubt they'll notice."

"are you sure it'll work?" you ask. you hear a faint announcement. the game is about to start.

he looks up at the speakers, alert. he grabs you tightly and drags you away with an air of confidence. "let's go."

you don't encounter any guards on the way back. it's strange, but you figure it's because they're all preparing for the next game. player 001's plan worked, because you two mixed in with the crowd, and the guards didn't notice. one of them turned back to look at you, and you panted, staring back at him. your heart raced, but you felt the presence of 001 next to you, and you felt at ease again. the guard looked away.

"i told you to stop being reckless." he says quietly, looking at 456 and 390, before looking back at you. your legs hurt from climbing so many stairs. "what would you have done if they found you?"

you swallow the lump in your throat, staring up at him intensely, eyes glassy. he saved your life. "i guess you stopped that from happening."

he clenches his jaw, his gaze flickering up and down your face before looking away. "i won't always be there to save you."

you look away, heart dropping. "thank you, 001."

"call me young-il."

you look up at him, blinking back tears, quirking an eyebrow as you two walk. "only if you allow me to add 'sir' at the end of it."

he chuckles, eyes crinkling. he has such a nice laugh. "why's that? respect?"

you nod, giving a little bow. "respect is very important in my culture as well. so thank you for saving my life, young-il sir."

he grins a little and pats your head. you thank him again, and decide you like him enough. so you tell him your name.

he tests it on his tongue, and you quite like the way he says it.

the next game had to be the most terrifying so far.

it was called mingle, and you had to run to the rooms in groups according to the number announced. things like these were where you got scared— where you had to group with people. in dangerous situations, you know people usually only look out for two types of people— themselves, and the ones dearest to them.

you were not dear to anyone here. you really should've interacted with more people.

the platform rotates, before the number is announced. six. your eyes widen and you frantically look around, but young-il is faster. he grabs you and drags you to the room with the rest of the team. you pant as the 30 seconds pass, and then look out the window in the door to see how many people were left— quite a few. your eyes widen as the red guards move forward with their guns raised.

young-il leaps forward and covers your eyes with his hand before pulling you into himself as the gunshots ring out— you flinch and shudder at every single one, breathing sharp and your entire frame trembling violently. when there is silence and the doors open, you look up. young-il gently lets go of you, looking around. he's panting too, and you look at him with the most crushed look on your face before he meets your gaze. he can tell what you want to know— why would you do that?

"you shouldn't have to see all this." he says quietly, adjusting his jacket and putting a little distance between you two. 456 pats your shoulder and makes sure people are okay before moving out. you just look at young-il for a while, but he simply looks around, seemingly lost in thought. as if fighting a war within himself. you wish you knew how to reassure him like he did with you, but you realize you barely know anything about him.

the entire floor is painted with blood. the sight makes you want to vomit. you walk carefully, but your foot slips in someone's blood and you begin to fall over. 456 catches you. "are you alright?"

instinctively, your gaze tries to find young-il but he's standing away. his head is lowered.

"yes, thank you." you give 456 a smile, before assuming your place on the platform again.

you play a few more rounds. you're lucky enough to have someone to team with each time— young-il and 456 don't let go of you even once. but then the voice runs out again, and they announce the number 3. this time, 456 is dragged along with the old woman and her son. you look around frantically, and meet young-il's panicked gaze with your own. you begin to run towards him, but two people grab you and drag you towards one of the rooms.

thanos and nam-gyu. you shriek at them, clawing at their arms and trying to run back out. what if young-il doesn't make it? what if something bad happens?

this time, you have no one to cover your eyes or ears. thanos and nam-gyu talk shit within themselves, and you look outside the little window, flinching with every gunshot ringing out, trying to pinpoint if it's young-il's body falling to the ground. you can't help the light sob erupting from your throat, and thanos chooses the wrong moment to come bother you.

"watcha looking for, señorita?" he laughs, poking your side, "is it your old man? did he finally—"

you turn to him and punch him in the face. he falls back and groans dramatically, rubbing the blood running down his nose. nam-gyu rushes to his rescue, giggling. they're both high as a kite. the doors open, and you rush out before they can bother you further.

you look around. 456 is with the rest of the team, but you can't find young-il. frantically, you look towards the dead bodies, heart pounding against your chest and head throbbing. suddenly, there's cheers from your team, and you look up to see young-il walking over with a bright grin on his face.

you don't know what compelled you to do it. you were acting on your emotions— overwhelmed by the relief you felt on the sight of his face. before you can even stop, you're dashing towards him and crashing into his body, wrapping your arms tightly around him.

he's shocked, that much is obvious by the way he tenses slightly. but then he returns the hug, wrapping his arms around you and placing one hand on your head, gently patting. "i told you we'd make it."

you choke on a soft sob, nodding, burying your head further into his chest, as if ready to climb inside him, "i thought you—"

he shushes you softly, voice gentle as he runs a hand through your hair. you can feel his heart racing against his chest too. you wonder if it's for the same reasons as you. "i'm okay."

you wish the game ended there. but there was one more round to go. as you rotated on the platform— the moment you were dreading finally happened as young-il predicted it. the number announced was two.

you were ready to die there. things seemed to happen in slow motion— 456 took his best friend 390, 149 was dragged by her son. you didn't get the chance to see who took who next, because young-il had grabbed your hand and was dragging you towards one of the rooms. there were only fifty rooms— the first one you two got to was taken. he dragged you to another with a mere ten seconds left.

you sighed in relief as you got in, before seeing another man was already there. he was shaking in fear, and you jumped at the harshness of young-il's voice when he ordered him to get out. when the other player refused, young-il lunged at him and put him in a headlock.

your eyes widened and you stepped forward, panic stricken but he looked right at you and called your name, "close your eyes!"

you flinched. you looked at the man, then at young-il, before squeezing your eyes shut. you slid to the floor, pulling your knees to your chest as soon as you heard a 'crack' before opening your eyes.

the player was dead. young-il cracked his neck.

the timer finished at that exact moment, and young-il crawled over to you before pulling you into his chest. the gunshots rang out, and you flinched, sobbing.

young-il killed someone.

"i had to do it," he whispered against your hair, holding your head against his chest, "we both have to make it out alive. i had to do it. you know that right?"

you wanted to believe him, you really did. but in that moment, you felt scared of him for the first time.

the doors opened, and the game finished.

while you wanted to revel in your victory, the incident during mingle had rattled you to your core. the others checked up on you, especially 388 and 456. young-il maintained some distance. you could feel like he thought it's what you wanted. but you could really use his comfort. you just don't know how to talk to him again without being nervous. you force yourself to relive your previous interactions with him— he's still the same young-il who has saved you and comforted you countless times.

he did what he had to do to ensure your survival. that wasn't something you could hold against him. not when both of your lives were on the line.

the voting this time was just as challenging. you made your way to the front of the crowd, praying that they'd choose wisely this time. you need to go home.

one of the players in the old man's team showed you the finger before clicking the 'o' button. the action made your eye twitch, and you grit your teeth before straightening up to attack that guy and scratch his face off, but a hand to your chest held you back.

if looks could kill, young-il's glare could've sent that guy home in a body bag. as the votes in favour of continuing the game increased, you pushed his hand off you and addressed the crowd, "have you all lost your fucking minds?!"

their chitter chatter stopped and they looked at you. you clench your jaw, "after losing so many people out there you still want to play? what the fuck is wrong with you people? are human lives that invaluable to you?"

player 100 steps forward, insufferable as always. "don't you see how much money we're getting for each person? it could settle our debt! we can't give up after how far we've come."

"you're gonna die!" you snap, pointing at him, "you could take this money and go home and be happy instead of risking your life for something that is not assured to you! why won't you listen?! i want to go home!"

the others in favour of terminating the game start chanting with you, a string of 'i want to go home' echoing across the room.

player 100 glares, urging his own team to chant against you. he looks towards young-il, yells something along the lines of, "look after your fucking kid!" before the barell of a gun presses against the back of your head. the whole room freezes, and so do you.

"disruptions against a democratic vote will not be excused." the robotic voice calls out. for a second you think this is it. you look at young-il. if you die here, you'd prefer the man who saved your life to be the last person you see. he glares at the guard, his jaw clenching. the guard lowers the gun and steps back and you let out a breath of relief.

you immediately saunter over to him, gritting your teeth. the vote is a tie— and they announce the next voting to be held tomorrow.

456 says there's about to be a fight. the rest of the team got busy setting up a barricade— and you didn't get the chance to talk to your player. you knew his concern though, when he made sure to especially hide your side of the bed with two mattresses.

you play with the hem of your shirt as you sit in your bed by your lonesome. your food sits by you, untouched. you dont feel like eating. the weight on the bed shifts, and young-il appears into view.

"you're not eating."

you swallow the lump in your throat. "i don't feel like it."

he contemplates, eyes lowered before he looks at you again. "im sorry you had to witness that. I don't want you to be scared of me."

you want to cry. "im not." you whisper, "you.. you had to do what you had to do. to save us."

he blinks, nodding.

"back there, i thought that was it. it's over." you chuckle bitterly. "but you saved me again. you acted on impulse. i could never resent you for it."

your eyes are bloodshot as you look at him again. fat tears roll down your cheeks, and he frowns. he sighs before leaning closer, brushing the tears away. "why are you crying?"

"i wouldn't have survived this far if it wasn't for you." you whisper, voice cracking. "promise me you wouldn't abandon me. promise me you won't die."

his gaze softens. he's silent for a bit, his hand coming to rest on your knee, "i promise."

you sniffle, wiping your tears away. a small smile appears on your face, "i punched thanos."

"thanos?" he frowns, confused before raising his eyebrows in recognition, "ah, the loud kid with the purple hair?"

you nod proudly. "he said something like 'did 001 finally die?' so i punched him."

he laughs heartily— face scrunching cutely, eyes crinkling. he shakes his head fondly before ruffling your hair again. "attagirl."

it makes you blush slightly and you smile, looking down at your lap. he grabs your dinner— the roll sitting next to you and unwraps it, taking out a piece before holding it out, "eat."

you snort before leaning forward and taking a bite. he looks at you for a while with that faraway look in his eyes, before wordlessly continuing to feed you the rest. the words go unsaid. 'what are we doing? why are we so comfortable with each other?'

some sauce sticks to the corner of your mouth. he raises his hand to hold your chin, his thumb gently wiping it off. your breath hitches.

neither of you protest when his thumb brushes across your bottom lip, gaze focused on it like he's hypnotized. he's thinking, mindlessly feeling the plush texture of it.

you've always been impulsive. especially in situations where you shouldn't be. it happens so naturally— how your lips part just slightly. and maybe he's impulsive too, because his thumb slips inside, and his breath hitches as soon as your lips wrap around his thumb.

his gaze raises to meet yours— and you blink almost dazedly. his thumb presses down on your tongue, and he calls out your name in the softest voice.

"i'm too old for you." he whispers, shaking his head in disapproval.

your eyes flutter, and you lean forward, grabbing hold of his wrist. he pulls his thumb out, and you almost whine in protest. to your utter delight, he replaces it with two of his fingers, and your eyes almost roll back as you crawl forward till you're situated on his lap, mouth stuffed with his index and middle finger. you suck on them enthusiastically. they're long and thick and perfect and you don't want them out of your mouth ever again. it elicits a soft moan out of him— and if you could put that sound on repeat for the rest of your life, you'd be happy.

he pulls his fingers out and grabs the back of your head, pulling you close till your foreheads press together. you try to lean forward, to capture his lips with your own. he chuckles slightly, eyes closed, playfully rubbing his nose against yours. you whine.

"so impatient." he whispers, and then his lips are colliding with yours. it would be embarrassing if someone were to catch you two like this— more so for him than for you. thankfully, the others are busy strategizing for the night, and are not looking for either of you.

you moan softly and he bites down on your bottom lip, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth. it's desperate and reckless and so full of spit— it makes you whimper into his mouth and he pulls you further into himself, as if telling you to shut up. his experience is obvious in the way he kisses, and you follow his lead. unknowingly, your hips start gently grinding against his thigh, and he lets out a soft hiss. he pulls away slightly, strings of saliva connecting your mouths. he licks it away.

"come on, sweetheart," he whispers, one hand coming down to help your hips grind against his thigh, "make yourself feel good— that's it, that's my good girl."

you moan softly, and his free hand clamps your mouth shut. he speeds his movement, clenching and unclenching the muscle of his thigh, guiding your hips to move faster against his lap. it's been so long since you've masturbated— and this is unarguably the hottest situation you've ever been in, with the hottest man you've ever seen. so you're already close. you cry out into his hand, your voice muffled. he understands what you mean and lets you move on your own speed then, pulling your head into the crook of his neck as he whispers soft words of praise into your ear.

the moment he calls you his good girl again, you cum. he muffles the sound with his hand, squeezing his eyes shut before he looks at you intensely. you collapse against him, slightly sweaty, your hands holding onto his shoulders as you cling to him. he runs his hand through your hair, breathing sharply. it's a small moment of bliss in the hell you've found yourself in.

soon, the lights go out, and dread settles in your stomach once you feel his body tensing. player 388 pulls one of the mattresses back slightly, hisses a quick "get under the bed!"

and the next game begins.

A/N: this was incredibly fun to write. i love writing him a little soft and fatherly, so deal with it. i might write a part 2 for this, if anyone wants that. this idea has been in my head for a while. i love him so, so much. this fic is my baby and i truly hope you guys like reading it as much as i liked writing it.

tags! @carolinevoight @lovers-roq @wildtigerlili @menabuser16 @deadlyobsessivfennec @watasinekoru @hanakokunzz @cowuies

#raven writes #frontman x reader #the frontman x reader smut #squid game x reader #hwang inho x reader #young-il x reader #squid game fanfic #lee byung hun x reader #the salesman x reader #player 001 x reader #frontman x you

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fawniswriting · 3 days ago

Text

𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐫𝐞

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Synopsis: After a mission filled with close calls and bad decisions, the team comes home to find an even bigger threat waiting at the door—your wrath.

Warning(s): THUNDERBOLTS SPOILERS!!! platonic!thunderbolts x reader. no use of y/n. use of the nicknames doll, honey, and pretty girl. canon typical violence. descriptions of injuries. descriptions of explosion, gun use, etc. established relationship. profanities. kissing. VERY suggestive content (minors be advised). talks of having a baby. bucky being a little feral (very briefly). slightly hurt/comfort. basically bucky and reader being the parents of the group.

Word Count: 3.6k-ish

Author's Note: GUYS I saw this fanart on instagram and instantly knew that I had to write something inspired by it!!! I've been itching to post a thunderbolts fic since last week 😭 welcome back 2012-2014 era of avengers' tower fanfics ✨️ anyway I hope they're keeping the revolution hair for bucky in doomsday or else I swear I'm gonna RIOT!!! (I know seb's head is shaved rn but wigs exist yk 😔) don't forget to comment, like, and reblog loveliesss 🩷

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Bucky Barnes doesn't understand a lot of things since he returned to society.

Cryptocurrency is one of them. Social media is another. Anything that involves more acronyms than actual words is an immediate no on his list.

Above all else, Bucky Barnes struggles to comprehend how exactly he became responsible for the group of walking disasters now hailed as earth's newest, mightiest heroes.

Looking at the pack of hellions in front of him, Bucky has serious doubts about that title.

Right in the middle of the tower's lobby, the Thunderbolts—the New Avengers now, apparently—are scattered like barbie dolls in the aftermath of a toddler's tantrum. John is standing against a column with a tight jaw, his left leg lifted gingerly, wrapped in a makeshift splint that looks suspiciously like someone's utility belt. Beside him, Yelena sits on the ground, legs sprawled in front of her as she cradles a bruised shoulder with an equally bruised hand. Alexei leans atop the front desk with a dried blood streaking down his temple, the young receptionist gone in fright the moment the team walked through the tower's entrance. Even Ava, usually one to disappear before debriefs, is visible for once, propped against the wall with her suit half-glitched and her expression blank.

Everyone is accounted for. Everyone is breathing.

But they all look like they rolled down a hill of bad choices where they banged their heads at every rock.

The mission was supposed to be a quiet recon, a simple surveillance on a rumored underground tech sale in an abandoned shipyard, low risk with minimal engagement. But then someone—Bucky still doesn’t know who—decided that they could handle it.

No heads-up. No plan.

Just four impulsive thrill-seekers interrupting a high-stakes black market deal involving high-tech plasma rifles and an offended buyer with too many goons.

By the time Bucky caught wind of what was happening, it was already chaos. He had to go in solo, extract the squad under heavy fire, disrupt the shipment, and reroute an entire response team of hostiles to avoid further catastrophe. They got out—just barely—and none of them seemed particularly eager to look him in the eye about it, especially after the thirty-minute tirade he launched into somewhere between fourth gear and a traffic jam.

From his place in front of the elevator, Bucky crosses his arms. “If any of you pull something like that again, you're all getting benched. Indefinitely.”

“What?!” Alexei roars.

Yelena scowls. “That’s ridiculous.”

“You don't get to make that call, Bucky,” John protests.

Ava nods. “We're not children. You can't just ground us whenever you feel like it.”

“Yeah?” Bucky laughs. Sarcastically. “Watch me, kid.”

As if on cue, the elevator arrives with a ding. Bucky gestures curtly towards the opening metal door. “Inside. Now.”

Reluctantly, the team shuffles in like a group of sheep being herded back into their pen for a much-needed nap time.

For a beat, the only sound that settles inside the cramped space is the low mechanical hum of the elevator ascending.

That is until Ava decides to speak up.

“I’m just saying,” she begins, “it wasn’t like we meant to crash the deal. We were just improvising.”

“Improvising?” Bucky exclaims, glaring at her. “You call tossing a grenade into an active negotiation improvising?”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Yelena argues, crossing her arms. “Sort of.”

“Sort of?” Bucky screeches, his tone rising. “Walker nearly lost a leg!”

“It's just a sprain,” John clarifies. “Probably.”

“See? It's just a sprain!” Yelena repeats a little too cheerfully. “He'll be good as new in no time. Right, John?”

John nods, failing to conceal his wince when Yelena bumps her unharmed shoulder to his.

Bucky rubs his temples. “I can’t believe I’m in charge of you people.”

The elevator dings again at the top floor.

“You know,” Yelena says as the team stumbles out of the metal trapbox, “we technically stopped the deal. You're not giving us credit for that.”

“That’s because you weren't supposed to stop the deal. You were supposed to observe.”

“Back in my day, observe meant punch first, ask questions later,” Alexei quips.

Bucky lets out a scathing scoff that echoes through the air. “Right. Remind me again how many years you spent rotting in that Siberian prison, Alexei?”

“Well, that's not very nice,” John mutters.

“You know what else isn't nice, Walker?” Bucky growls. “Getting your asses lit up by dozens of machine guns because none of you seem to grasp the basic concept of following orders.”

The group swelters in a momentary silence.

“I mean, in our defense,” says Ava, “none of us actually got shot.”

Before Bucky can tell her off even further, a voice suddenly intercepts, “How fabulous! You guys didn't get shot? Geez, someone really should give you all a medal for that.”

The whole team stops in their tracks.

One by one, everyone turns their head towards the direction from which the voice has come. The view that greets them could probably send a perfectly healthy man straight into an early grave.

On the platform floor a few paces away, they find you standing with arms folded across your chest. Despite the bright lilt of your voice, your eyes are cutting as they assess the entire team with the judgement of a juror who has already decided on a guilty verdict. It's clear from your attire that you were freshly off work before going straight to the tower, and since everyone knows that you were supposed to be on a work trip to Philadelphia for at least another two days, it’s safe to assume that your ticket back was booked right around the time someone shouted “mission compromised!”.

It's a full ten seconds of shared disgrace before Yelena finally breaks the silence.

“You called her?” she hisses, landing an accusatory glare in Bucky’s direction.

“I did not.” Bucky scoffs. “And why does it matter if I did?”

“Bucky didn't call me,” you interject, your posture still rigid, your gaze still icy.

“Then who—no.” Yelena's eyes drift towards the kitchen, squinting as she takes in the figure trying to hide behind the doorway. “Bob.”

Ava snaps her head up. “Bob, you little shi—”

“That’s enough,” you jump in, moving sideways to conceal Bob from Ava's murderous line of sight. “He's got nothing to do with this. This is about you—all of you—and what a stupid, reckless, dangerous thing you just did.”

Under your scrutiny, the whole squad shifts like a pack of raccoons caught rummaging through the kitchen trash. The weight of your stare seems to age them all by a decade.

“I'm gonna give all of you two minutes to explain yourselves,” you declare, the authority in your tone indisputable. “And I already know what happened, so don't even think about trying to trick me.”

There is a lull in the air where everyone seemingly tries to process your demand.

When their mouths open again, what follows is not so much an explanation as it is a verbal dogpile. Everyone starts talking all at once—too loud, too fast, and entirely contradictory. John tries to lead with the logistics, only to be steamrolled by Alexei shouting something about creative liberty. Ava attempts to downplay the situation with a jovial “it was barely an explosion!” while Yelena throws her under the bus with a hasty “she started it!”.

Bucky—standing to the side with the posture of a man watching his funeral getting turned into a Dollar Store circus—doesn’t even bother stepping in. He knows better.

You hold up a single finger and the room quiets instantly, like someone pressing mute on a trashy sitcom argument. The stillness that follows is so heavy, even the lights begin to flicker in anticipation.

“But we got out fine!” Ava sputters, desperate to fill in the quietness, though her voice immediately thins when she adds, “Mostly.”

“Yeah! I mean, it's just a bruise here, a bruise there—everything's great.” Yelena grins.

Your sharp stare slides towards John, the lines between your eyebrows tightening as you take in the awkward angle of his injured leg. John nearly cowers under your piercing gaze.

“How bad is the damage?” you question, your voice booming throughout the surrounding space.

“What, this? Oh, it's not that bad. Probably just need to ice it then I'll be good as new—”

“Walker.”

It's hardly a secret that John is perhaps your least favorite person in that room, with you still clearly holding a grudge towards him for what happened with the Flag Smashers. The man is used to your constant cold shoulder by now. He expects it, even. More often than not, John finds himself wondering if you would ever warm up to him the way you have with the rest of the team.

And yet, as he now stands at the end of your long stare, John can't help but think that perhaps your silent treatment isn't really that bad. Especially if it means he doesn't have to be on the receiving end of the critical scrutiny you're currently aiming towards him.

The blond gulps.

“There's a forty percent chance it might be broken,” John admits. “But it's likely just dislocated. No big deal.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Get to the medbay and tell them to run a scan,” you command. “Alexei, go with him.”

“That's not necessa—”

The sharp glare you're sending him causes John's words to lodge in his throat.

Alexei springs right into action, steering John away from your ferocious perusal and back towards the elevator.

“C'mon, big guy,” Alexei bellows. “Let's go pay a visit to our doctor friends.”

As soon as the two men disappear into the elevator, your glower shifts towards the remaining two people standing behind Bucky. Yelena pretends to check her nails while Ava's eyes are roaming the ceiling with faux nonchalance, both a pathetic attempt to avoid the clear daggers in your stare. The ridiculousness would've made you chortle were you not livid beyond salvation right now.

“I want you two to go back to your rooms, clean yourselves up, and be back here in no more than thirty minutes,” you proclaim. “We'll continue our discussion after dinner.”

“Wait, hold on—”

“That's not—”

“Just go, you two,” Bucky interrupts, the blue in his eyes colder than the Arctic ocean. “That wasn't a request.”

The two figures slump in defeat, teetering towards the staircase with the speed of a turtle in a morning rush hour. You hear Yelena grumbling something in Russian under her breath, and you force yourself not to think about what the phrase might mean lest you want your skin to crawl in an even higher degree of vexation.

“Good gracious.” Bucky shakes his head.

Behind you, Bob emerges out of the kitchen, his shoulders drooping ever so slightly as he approaches you like a wounded kitten.

“They're mad at me, aren't they?” Bob murmurs. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you guys fight with each other.”

“It's not your fault, sweetie,” you assure him, extending your hand and offering a comforting squeeze around his palm. “They're just being idiots right now. You did good, okay? Give it a few hours and I promise you, they'll forget about this already.”

Bob nods solemnly, his voice quiet as he excuses himself and trudges towards the common area. You release a breath as you observe him diving head first onto the sofa, burying his face in the cushion like a Victorian widow fainting onto her chaise.

Turning around, your eyes lock with another pair in blue. The smile on Bucky's face grows as he takes you in, his arms opening with all the intention to collect you in his embrace.

“Hey, doll. I've missed—”

“No. Stay right there.” You raise your palm, taking a step back. “I'm mad at you, too.”

Bucky blinks.

He watches you turn around and walk away from him, his arms coming down limp by his sides before he scutters after your retreating form. Bucky lingers in the doorway as you move about the kitchen, taking out pots, knives, and pans while slamming the cabinet doors shut in the process. You don't even spare him a glance as you start retrieving fresh ingredients from the fridge.

“Honey?” he calls out, voice meek beneath the echo of your knife slicing through onions on the counter. “C'mon, doll, you're really not gonna talk to me?”

“No.”

The chopping continues.

Bucky rubs his face.

“You know I'm just as disappointed in them as you are, right?” he begins. “Swear to God, doll, I had nothing to do with this. Didn't even know what those rascals were planning ‘till I got the call from Alexei. Told ‘em off as soon as I extracted them outta there.”

“Hm.”

Sighing, Bucky takes a tentative step forward, then another, finally closing the distance when he's sure you wouldn't smack him across the head with the chopping board in your hand. His fingers find purchase around your elbow, halting your movements, the gentleness aching as he spins you around to face him. The knife and half-sliced onion lie dormant on the counter.

“Hey,” Bucky utters, so softly that the air nearly swallows the word whole. “Talk to me?”

You heave in a shaky breath, evading his eyes. “What's there to talk about? I told you I'm pissed.”

“Okay, that part I already got.” Bucky chuckles, brushing the back of his palm on your cheek. “Help me understand why? At least tell me how I can fix it, pretty girl. Hm?”

Your silence quivers at the edges, growing more brittle with each swipe of Bucky’s touch on your skin. The walls around your heart crumble under his infuriating tenderness.

“When Bob called and said the team had gone radio silent, I—” you pause, swallowing hard, “—I thought something terrible happened. I booked the first train out of Philly before I even hung up.”

Bucky stays quiet, watching you with careful eyes.

“I couldn’t reach anyone. Not John, not Yelena, not Ava, not Alexei—not you. And the longer I waited, the worse it got in my head. I pictured the mission going sideways. All of you gone.” You inhale sharply. “I pictured all of you coming home in body bags.”

Bucky's heart breaks at the shudder he feels running through your back. His soul is already mourning over the loss of light he would usually find shining so brightly out of your eyes. It makes him cling to you just a tad bit tighter.

“Bob finally called me again to tell me that you're all fine. That you're on your way back. But that's not the point, Bucky.” You look at him then, your fingers flexing. “The point is, I should've never heard about all of this from Bob in the first place. I should've heard it from you.”

Bucky's shoulders sink. “I didn't want you to worry.”

You shake your head, eyes burning with the threat of unshed tears. “But I do worry, Bucky! That’s the point. I worry every single time. The moment all of you step out of this building, I'm counting down the minutes until you guys return to me again. You can't shield me away from that.”

He steps closer, removing what little bit of distance between the two of you until all of your atoms are nearly merged as one. “You're right. You are. I should’ve called. Should've trusted that you'd want to know, even if it might scare you.”

“It did scare me,” you whisper. “And I didn’t want Bob’s voice telling me everything was okay. I wanted yours.”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky murmurs, his arms pulling you nearer. “No more leaving you out. I promise it’ll be me from now on. I'll tell you everything, doll. Always.”

A shuddering breath leaves your lungs, and just like that, you completely melt away under Bucky's touch. Your forehead drops against the line between his shoulder and chest, your fingers gripping his sides as though he was the very force keeping you tethered to earth. Meanwhile, Bucky's lips ghost over the top of your head, whispering sweet nothings, the contrasting temperature of his palms appeasing you with random patterns against your back.

“I don't know how this all started,” you confess. “I'm not sure when I began caring this much about those idiots, but I do. The thought of something happening to them—to you—to all of you…”

Bucky's arms tighten around your frame. “I know, honey. I feel the same way.”

“This is not what I had in mind, you know?”

You tilt your head back to stare at his face, your fingers tangling themselves in the soft waves that Bucky has been growing out over the past few weeks. He almost cut them all off several days ago, but after some convincing on your end—which may have included activities that found your fingers buried in the soft tendrils and his face buried somewhere else—you managed to talk him out of it.

Bucky's eyebrows lift. “What do you mean?”

“Well… when you said that you were joining this team, I thought I'd never seen a more dysfunctional group of people in my entire life. I figured it'd be a miracle if all of you last a whole month without someone quitting or accidentally blowing each other up.” You chuckle, your eyes softening. “I didn't think I'd end up pacing the hallway every time you guys went out, worrying like some overworked mother of five.”

Bucky huffs out a laugh, his forehead falling onto your own. “I get it. This wasn’t exactly how I imagined myself stepping into the dad role either, but… here I am.”

“Yeah?” Your lips quirk up. “How did you imagine it then?”

“Well—” Bucky's voice drops, his breath warm where it fans against your skin, “—I figured it’d start with a little house, somewhere quiet. Nothing fancy. Just enough for us to start building a life in. I’d fix the place up real proper. You’d hum to yourself as you whip up one of those famous pies of yours, and I’d pretend not to stare.”

The cheeky grin on Bucky's face grows, prompting a laugh out of your chest. His thumb continues to trace idle circles upon your waist.

“Then, when you feel the time's right, we’d try for a baby. The old-fashioned way. Real slow, real sweet. I’d kiss you like I got all the time in the world, and make love to you like I didn’t.”

Something flutters inside your chest, like stardust stirring in a forgotten corner of the galaxy. The way Bucky is looking at you makes you feel as if you were the first breath of the universe itself.

“That's how I pictured us becoming parents,” Bucky adds, brushing his lips along your jaw. “Not… this. Whatever this is.”

You smile at the graze of his beard on your cheek, angling your head to capture him in a brief kiss.

“You know what I think this is, Buck?” you ask, teasing your lips against his own. “I think we should view this as a practice run. After all, how hard can it be to parent our own kid if we can do it to a group of five ridiculous, chaotic misfits, right?”

“Doll.” He sighs. “Are you saying what I think you're saying?”

“Depends.” You hum, your lips twitching in feigned innocence. “If you think I'm imagining you putting a baby in me… then yeah, you're absolutely right.”

Bucky swallows your cheeky grin with a kiss, grunting against your mouth as he presses you back against the counter. The muffled moans you let out are music to his ears, a lascivious melody that rushes straight towards places he reserves explicitly for you. His hands slip under your blouse, roaming the expanse of skin, drifting lower and lower in search for the one place that could send him straight to heaven and—

“Yelena! Give it back to me!”

“I told you it wasn't me!”

Bucky groans.

The shrill voices resonate all the way down to the kitchen, followed by the unmistakable echoes of footsteps thundering down the staircase. Bucky makes a guttural noise of frustration as his face slumps into the crook of your neck.

“I swear to God, I’m gonna ship them to Asgard one of these days,” he mutters.

You snort, brushing your fingers through his hair and pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips.

“Let's put a raincheck on the baby-making, soldier,” you purr, smirking when it spurs on a rumble from Bucky's chest. “Looks like I've got a fight to break up before we have two dead superheroes on our hands.”

He groans again, this time at the loss of your warmth as you slip out of his arms. From the kitchen's doorway, you raise an eyebrow towards the common area, perching your palms on either side of your hips as you take in the havoc ahead.

“What the hell is going on here?” you snarl.

“She stole my snacks!” accuses Ava.

“I don't even like Jammie Dodgers, you lunatic!”

“What a lot of crap. We all know you'd even eat chicken off the ground given the chance, you pig!”

“Fucking asshole—”

“Hey!” you interrupt, your voice sharp as you march towards the two fuming Avengers. “You call each other any more names, then I promise you, you're gonna wish you got shot on that mission today.”

Bucky watches the whole interaction from the kitchen with his arms crossed and a slow grin spreading across his face. He leans against the counter, studying you with the quiet reverence of a man who has found the meaning of home after decades of searching. Even in the midst of this domestic madness, even with the team’s antics grinding on his last nerve, he wouldn't trade a single thing in his life for anything else.

There are still a lot of things in this world that Bucky struggles to understand.

But with you by his side, and his entire team watching his six, he knows that he's got nothing to worry about.

2K notes · View notes

cherrygirlfriend · 1 month ago

Text

─ FIRST LOVE THEORY ♥︎

...or rafe reuniting with his ex-wife.

♥︎ pairing .ᐟ ex-husband!rafe x married!reader

♥︎ summary .ᐟ reader goes over to her ex-husband's house when she finds out he introduced their son to his new girlfriend. rafe has a better idea for what they could do instead of arguing.

♥︎ warnings/tags .ᐟ smut! MDNI. cheating, unprotected piv, breeding kink. wc: 2.7k

♥︎ author's note .ᐟ first fic on my 3k celebration!!! i hope you guys like it <3 i have to wake up in six hours… 😭

3K MASTERLIST ♡ RAFE MASTERLIST

there's a theory that claims that men never get over their first love; that they're always going to be thinking about her, dream of her, mumbling her name in their sleep...

and if you wanted to prove said theory wrong, rafe cameron was the wrong person to go to; no matter what the occasion was, he would abandon it all for her if she called; anything for his first love.

you had been dating rafe since sophomore year of high school, starting to go out just days after you moved to the island. your family lived in a small, run-down house on the so-dubbed poor side of the island. even if your family couldn't afford much, they put all the money they had just so you could attend kildare academy.

when you started dating and he finally introduced you to his friends, you could see it in the eyes of every one of rafe's friends; they all looked down on you simply because you didn't come from money. one time while you'd been at a party rafe was hosting, you could hear his friends whisper about you, talking shit. saying how he was probably just dating you because you let him fuck you whenever, or how he pitied you.

that was the first time you two broke up; and a few days after, rafe came knocking at your door with a bouquet of flowers and a well-practiced apology prepared.

after that? you two pretty much became the most notorious on-and-off couple on the whole island. it was like every other week, you and rafe broke up, got back together, and broke up again. one moment, you'd be all over each other; the next moment, you were all over each other in a completely different way. the problem was, as you got older, your situation stayed the same.

you parked your car in front of the house rafe was living in; the bastard had gone and introduced the woman he was dating to your son without asking you, without even saying a word. you slammed your car door closed, your heeled knee-high boots clacking against the concrete.

"rafe!" you shouted, banging the side of your fist against the wooden door, the wreath hung up on the door shaking with the force of your punches "rafe fucking cameron, i need to talk to you!"

rafe pulled opened the door, his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed, "what the hell do you want now? child support not come through?" the man scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"why the fuck did you introduce some bitch to leo without mentioning it to me?" you pushed him, your ex-husband stumbling backwards, "do you have no common sense? i told you, i don't want you to introduce any of your sluts to him before asking me first."

"you introduced your damn boyfriend to him when i told you not to!"

"rafe, i've told you a million times, will is not my boyfriend; we've been married for a year." you let out an annoyed scoff, "and that's completely different. you told me not to introduce him to a guy i had been with for a year and was getting engaged to, meanwhile i'm telling you not to introduce him to your third girlfriend of the month."

"can you shut the hell up? i'm not some fucking town bicycle." you followed rafe into the living room, watching as your ex-husband poured whiskey into a glass. you watch as he downs the glass, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallows, continuing to pour more amber liquid into the glass, turning to you, "i'll have you know, sofia and i have been exclusive for three months now."

"well, that's basically as good as marriage when it comes to you." you let out a small scoff, "i don't want you to introduce our son to anyone i don't know, rafe." you grabbed the glass of whiskey from him, downing the liquid, burning as it went down your throat. you slammed the glass onto the tray, pointing a manicured nail at him, your engagement ring and wedding band glimmering under the light. "don't fuck with me. not when it comes to him."

"you're so fuckin' selfish." rafe scoffs, throwing his hands in the air "he's my son too, you have no right to tell me what i can and can't do!"

"i've got a custody agreement that says i do." you narrow your eyes, poking him in the chest, "if you do shit like that again, i'm calling my lawyer."

"you've gotta be kidding me." rafe shook his head in disbelief, a bitter laugh leaving his lips as he brought his face closer to yours, gritting his teeth, "you're gonna try and change our custody agreement because of this? there's no way you're that much of a vindictive bitch."

"you really must not know me," you scoff as you look up at him, your eyes narrowed and your voice low, "because if you did, you'd know that that's exactly how much of a vindictive bitch i am." you stared into each other's eyes, your heavy breaths mingling together. rafe's jaw was clenched, his steely eyes focused on nothing but you.

his lips crashed against yours.

his hands were in your hair, tangled in the strands, tugging on them only to bring you closer to him; his lips were devouring you, a clash of lips, teeth, tongue; and even though you tried to pull away at first, it was like every time he got his hands on you, you melted. every time rafe kissed you, it felt like you were clay and he was molding you into yourself.

your back hit the solid wall behind you, and rafe let out a slight groan when his hands wrapped around under your thighs, and you hopped into his arms, your hands around the back of his neck as rafe held you against the wall. his hands trailed up to cup your ass, the hem of your skirt now all bunched up, your ex gripping the fat of your ass.

rafe carried you into the bedroom you used to share with him like you weighed nothing, dumping you onto the bed and causing your body to bounce on it slightly. grinning up at him, you took your dress off, the blonde looking at your body up and down, cocking his head to the side.

"you wore red?" rafe tsked, referring to the lingerie set you were wearing, a wine-red one, a color you knew rafe loved on you, having ruined many a set while you were together, "you should've just said you wanted to fuck."

you bit your lip when rafe finally took off his shirt, revealing a set of abs you'd caressed, kissed, licked, more times that you could count. his long fingers made work of his belt buckle, swiftly pulling his belt off. he snapped it once before throwing it to the side.

his pants were off, the outline of rafe's hard cock visible through his white calvin kleins. you rubbed your legs together, your nipples hard and straining against your bra. "you gonna come here, or do i need to come and getcha?"

rafe shook his head with a chuckle, and at his words, his body was on yours, grinding against you. a gasp left your lips as you felt his erection against your clothed cunt, and you could feel your arousal starting to form a wet patch in your lacy panties. his lips trailed down your jawline as his hands trailed down the strap of your bra, the man letting out a chuckle against your skin, the words he mumbled against your neck causing vibrations to run down your spine. "let's get this pesky thing off, huh?"

you arched your back off the bed, and rafe's long fingers darted to the clasp of your bra, swiftly unclasping it and throwing it to the floor with the rest of your clothes. within seconds, his lips were on your nipple, licking on the hard bud before his lips wrapped around it, sucking on it in a way that made you to arch into his touch, gasps of pure pleasure leaving your lips.

one of his hands slid into the waistband of your panties, bringing hid middle finger to your clit and pressing on it, making you mewl as your hand found his hair, tugging on it slightly. rafe groaned against your nipple, causing a wave of shivers to run down your spine as his finger lazily rolled around your clit.

"please..." you whined, and rafe let out a small chuckle against your nipple before releasing it with a pop!

his lips started to trail down your body, pressing kisses from between your breasts, down your belly button, continuing all the way until his lips made contact with the waistband of your panties.

"please what?" rafe asked as he started to press kisses on your panty-covered pussy, getting closer and closer to the wet little patch that was now decorating them.

"take them off..." you mewled, your hands grasping the sheets underneath you. rafe pressed a small kiss right over your clit, accompanying it with a teasing lick, before his long fingers finally tightened around the waistband of your panties.

"look at that." rafe huffed in a way that resembled a laugh, and as you looked down, you could see a large patch on the inside of your panties. you scrunched up your nose and looked away, making him let out another chuckle as you hid your face in your hands, "you're so cute when you're embarrassed, baby..." he cooed mockingly, throwing your panties to the side. "there's nothing to be embarrassed about. we both know you get soaked within seconds when it comes to me."

rafe licked a stripe up your slit, making sure to slightly suckle on your clit, a moan leaving your lips, your back arching off the bed you used to share with him. he moved himself up, until his face was over yours. when rafe placed a small, dazing kiss on your lips, you licked your lips, tasting yourself; he always loved doing that; always loved to make it known that only he could have such an effect on you.

the blonde grinned as he tugged his boxers down, gripping the shaft and moving his cock so the tip of it was pressing against your clit, drawing tiiiiny circles of it as if it was another 'funny' game he liked to play with you.

"come on...!" you whined, smacking his shoulders, "i need you..."

"what's wrong, sweetie?" rafe cooed mockingly, cocking his head to the side and narrowing his eyes, "your husband not enough for you?"

your eyes flit to the engagement ring and the wedding band on your ring finger, but the feeling of rafe's cock drawing circles on your needy, throbbing clit, before they looked back into his blue eyes that were mostly overtaken by the black of his pupil.

"please..." you looked at him through your lashes, pouting at rafe. he let out a slight chuckle, moving his shaft down to your entrance, "this what you want?" he asked, pressing a peck on your lips that felt like he was ridiculing you; but your body didn't care; all it cared about was having him inside of it. now.

"yes..." you whispered, "please..."

you felt the mushroom tip of rafe's cock finally enter into you, and even that was enough for a small smile to twitch up your lips; you knew it was pathetic, you knew that this wasn't something you should be doing but "aaaaaaahhhh-" as he sunk his cock deeper into you, you couldn't resist.

and before you were prepared for it, rafe had forced himself all the way into you, the tip of his cock hitting the sweet spot inside of you as you gasped for air, pressing your eyes closed in a way that brought tears to your eyes.

"tell me who you belong to..." he growled, his lips pressed against your neck as he pulled his cock almost entirely out of you, only leaving a tiny bit of it at your entrance.

"rafe..."

"tell me." rafe grabbed your thigh, hoisting your leg up onto his shoulder so he could get even deeper inside of you, "tell me, who you belong to."

"i..." you whisper, your eyes fluttering open, eyelashes wet with tears, "i belong to you, rafe..."

and as he pistoned his cock into you, you couldn't help but throw your head back, your eyes closed, the tears stuck to your lashes ruining your eye makeup.

when rafe's hand slowly made it's way to your pussy, you could tell that he was close; your ex was a sucker for having you both come at the same time. rafe started drawing lazy circles on your clit as he continued to plunge his cock in and out of you, hitting you right where you needed him, and that combined with his thumb on your clit was making the pressure in your abdomen grow, and grow, and grow...

"i'm gonna fuck another baby into you..." rafe mumbled into your ear, "always wanted a big family..." his thrusts grew quicker to the point that you were having a difficult time keeping up with him, "gonna give you a second baby..." his thumb's pace on your clit quickened, "tell me you want it... c'mon, baby..."

your brain wanted to tell him no, but it was as if your heart and your body were in control, every inch of them screaming out the answer that left your lips.

"yes!" you screamed out, "yes, rafe, yes!"

you could feel your cunt clenching around him, moaning out rafe's name as your orgasm washed over you, every part of your body blissed out, until a sense of clarity hit you, and although you tried to shove rafe off you, you couldn't do so, feeling as warm ropes of his thick cum started painting the walls of your slick cunt white.

as rafe got down off his high, he let out a small chuckle as he pulled his cock out of you, the slightly pinkening inches of him soaked in a white mixture of you and him, only for him to shove the cum that was dripping out of you back into you, making you let out another gasp.

rafe laughed as he pulled his fingers out of your hole, bringing them to your mouth. "taste." and you knew; it wasn't a request, it was a command. and so you did.

some moments went by and you were nuzzled in rafe's arms, the both of you content and satisfied as you laid under the blankets, rafe smelling the raspberry-scented shampoo you always wore with a smile on his face; he hoped that your scent would linger; your shampoo, body wash, perfume; he hoped it'd all just... be there, in his bedsheets, forever.

you took the picture frame off the nightstand, and you saw exactly what you were expecting; a picture of you and rafe kissing only moments after you said i do; rafe in his ridiculously expensive tuxedo and you in your custom vera wang wedding dress, your ex-husband having told you that you didn't only deserve the best; you needed it. as you traced the hem of your wedding dress, rafe let out a chuckle, and you couldn't help but turn to him with your brows furrowed, "what?"

"it's just..." rafe brought his hand to rest over yours, his finger right where yours was, trailing your hem, "this kind of reminds me of how i bunched up this dress around your waist a little bit before the wedding..." his icy blue eyes turned to you, "and how i did the same with your most recent wedding dress, and fucked you. what was it you wore to your wedding with will?" he pretended to ponder, "valentino?"

you looked up at him your eyes narrowing, "you can never tell him this happened."

"don't worry, baby." rafe's hand detached from the frame as he cooed mockingly, going to trace your cheekbone with his long, ringed fingers, "i'm sure he can figure it out when your baby ends up looking nothing like him."

♥︎ author's note .ᐟ thinking of writing a fic about rafe and reader on her wedding day... lmk if you want that.

2K notes · View notes

pepshee · 9 days ago

Text

First Place

when you make a bet with your best friend—loser is forced to do what the winner wants—but his demands for you aren't exactly what you expected, but you're fully willing to comply.

Pairing - heeseung x fem!reader

Genre - friends with benefits, friends to ???, smut

Word count - 2k

Warnings - p in v, creampie, cliche, degrading (he calls reader a slut), fingering, mentions of other enha members, Mario kart mention, stripping, lmk if I missed anything!

A/N - I was gonna lowkey abandon writing but here I am.. back again... again, sorry if it's bad, and thank you to the anon in my inbox who gave me writing advice! i dont feel like using capitalization in this one so im not gonna... anyways.. enjoy! also yes im aware its kinda cliche

MDNI 18+

heeseung was always your best friend; he was always there when you needed him and vice versa. meeting him in high school was the best twist of fate ever. those four years would've ended up miserable had it been someone else.

there was a decent amount of girls after him, but that was never a bother. in fact, he was always your wingman, helping you find ways to ask out your crush without looking like a complete ditz. he had a couple of girlfriends throughout high school, but they never really lasted.

he was able to tell when you were upset and was somehow always able to pinpoint the reason. you'd never thought of him in a romantic light, although he was extremely attractive. it was like a forbidden fruit, something you were too scared to explore.

after graduation, applying to the same college as one another seemed scary. what if only one of you got in? what if neither of you got in? those worrying questions quickly disappeared when one day you both opened your results and found out you were both accepted.

he made new friends, and so did you, but one thing was that you never forgot each other. you both still regularly hung out and went to your usual coffee shops or shopping malls.

heeseung and his friends are at his dorm, and he had given you permission to come and go in his dorm without asking whenever you wanted whether he was there or not. his roommate, Jake, was hesitant about this at first, but just agreed to avoid drama, however, he grew to not mind it.

you were bored lying in your dorm room, so you got up to go to his dorm. upon walking in, you find him, his roommate, and his friends all huddled together in the living room, some on the couch, some on the floor, and the rest standing around. through a closer look, it wasn't hard to locate a couple of them, including heeseung, who were equipped with gaming controllers; they were playing video games.

one of his friends who wasn't playing hears the door opening and looks at you. you don't know his friends well, except for his roommate, but you did know their names.

the friend who saw you, jay, smirks upon noticing your presence. you didn't know the reason, but you just left it alone with a shrug of your shoulders. jay tapped heeseung—whose attention was occupied by whatever game it is that they're playing—and he replied without even looking away from the tv screen. "what is it? I'm trying to win, dude," he said. jay leaned into heeseung's ear and whispered something that you were unable to hear.

heeseung paused the game, earning him a few groans from his friends who also held controllers before turning his head to the door where you were standing. he smiled at you, "hey y/n! come here, we're all playing video games!" after walking over to him you both quickly realize there's no room on the couch for you to sit, but that problem didn't last very long. he hits his friend sitting next to him, sunghoon, not very hard but so sunghoon will know what heeseung is trying to get him to do.

sunghoon promptly got up, before you even got time to process him getting up, heeseung grabbed your wrist and pulled you to sit down next to him on the couch. it wasn't hard to notice the looks and smirks his friends gave each other once he did this, but you didn't think anything of it.

"why'd you show up to my dorm this time?" he looked at you, the game still paused, but it seemed his friends were more focused on you two rather than the game now. you let out a small laugh at his comment, "i got bored so i came here, but you're already busy i see." he shakes his head, "i'm not busy, we're just playing games, now watch me win," he smirks, he's always been quite cocky but it's part of his charm.

he unpaused it and continued the competitive game with an intense focus. after a bit, the game was over, and well, heeseung didn't win, but that's not important. he throws a playful fit about losing, and after a bit, he turns to you. "hey, lets play the hardest map on mario kart and whoever loses gets to boss the loser around, but it's just us two," he grins at his own idea, hoping you accept.

he almost cheers when he sees you nod, and signals one of his friends to hand you a controller. he selects the map, and as the game starts, he's completely in the zone; he really wants to win, to have power over you.

after crossing the finish line for the final time, heeseung had won, which makes you let out a groan of disapproval. his friends all laugh as heeseung lightly pushes and teases you. "I knew you were a loser!" he teases, making you hit him on the shoulder. "knock it off, i hate you, you have more experience!" you argue back, and he just laughs.

"okay so now I get to tell you what to do," he smirks. you roll your eyes, but he suddenly shooes his friends out of his dorm while they shoot him knowing looks, and mocking kissing gestures. it's like they know something you don't, which makes you nervous. why would they leave that easily?

after they had left, heeseung shifts around in his seat and turns back to you. "so.. now I need to think about what I'm gonna make you do.. maybe me and jakes dishes? the laundry?" he says, basically talking to himself. he just sits there thinking for a moment, occasionally throwing out random ideas until his face changes, finally landing on one. "y/n, we've been friends for a long time, yeah?" you nod, waiting for him to continue. "you know.. you're really pretty, and I think I've made my decision..." your heart flutters for a second at the tone he used; he never really talked to you like this before. he's told you you're pretty, but the way he said it this time was different.

"strip for me," his tone completely serious, lacking any bit of sarcasm or signs that he's joking. your eyes go wide, and you look at him, bewildered at what he chose. "seriously? strip? hee—" he stopped you before you could finish, "I'm serious, I've always felt something towards you, this is my opportunity, I choose for you to strip," his tone lowering, you can see the desire and the hunger written in his eyes.

through your utter shock, you take a moment to think, he is attractive.. you've always thought he was. what's the harm in this? why not just do it?

you started by removing your hoodie. once he realized you were down for his demands, he couldn't look away. then you removed your shirt, followed by your pants, now just leaving you in your bra and underwear. heeseung was just sitting back, manspreading, smirking at you. he'd never seen you so exposed like this before. "so pretty, your body is so sexy," he commented, you could see the growing bulge in his grey sweatpants.

suddenly, he stood up, grabbing your wrist dragging you to his bed before promptly pushing you down onto it. he quickly crawled on top of you and smashed his lips onto yours. it was unexpected but not unwelcome as you kissed him back and moved one of your hands to bury your fingers in his hair. as the kiss continued, your grip on his hair got tighter, earning a groan from him, while one of his hands explored your thighs.

his hand made its way to the wet patch on your panties, touching you over the cotton. this caused you to let out a whine at the feeling; you wanted more, wanted him to touch you more. he clearly noticed this, "beg for it," he demanded. he clearly wasn't going to give it to you that easily even though it was his idea. "please heeseung, touch my pussy, please.." your pleas made his cock twitch in his boxers, he finally took your panties completely off, sliding them down your legs.

he ran his fingers slowly and teasingly through your already wet and slick folds. "all this for me? didn't think you loved the idea of fucking your best friend so much, you're just a slut aren't you?" his degrading words just fueled your desire for his cock even more even though it probably shouldn't.

he slowly inserted one finger into your cunt, the feeling causing a small moan to release itself from your mouth. he then added a second one and started out slowly moving his fingers in and out of your hole, but then he sped up and even curled the slightly making them hit your g-spot at just the right angle. you moaned at the pleasure that took over you as he continued to scissor his fingers inside of you. his thumb started to rub your clit further stimulating your pussy.

"heeseung im s' close—" he removed his fingers without warning, making you whine at the newfound emptiness. before you could even question, he removed his sweatpants and his shirt. you could feel the drool forming at the sight of his chest and physique, but then your eyes landed on something even more exciting, the stain on his boxers due to his leaking cock.

he removed his boxers next, his large cock springing out, the sight of it made your eyes widen. how would he even fit? "it'll fit baby, don't worry, I'll make it fit," he said almost as if he had read your mind. he ran the tip of his cock through your slick folds and gave himself a couple strokes before finally lining himself up with your entrance. "i'm gonna fuck this pussy so good you hear me?"

he was so eager he didn't even go slow this time; he immediately rammed himself into you, enjoying the sight of the slight bulge he created on your stomach. he pulled out almost fully before thrusting back in, he repeated this process, making you a moaning mess. it was hard to tell where one of you started and where the other ended, "seungie- p-please.. keep going," you begged him, and he listened. he wasn't going to stop until you both came. you could feel his tip grazing your cervix, his cock stretching your pussy so good. you'd had sex before, but you could already tell heeseung is the best you'll ever get.

"come on baby, i know you're close, you like this don't you? like being my little slut," he was right, you did like it, you were close, he knew how to read you like an open book. "gonna cum—" is all you could manage to get out as the pleasure took over you making it almost impossible to form coherent sentences. not long after your words you let go, your release painting his cock forming a white ring at his base as he continued his thrusts chasing his own orgasm. "hold on love, i'm almost there, you can take it," he encouraged. his thrusts started to grow sloppy; he was close. finally, he came, his release painting the inside of your gummy walls. you'd never had anyone cum in you, you'd always had them pull out, but heeseung was different. you wanted him to cum in you.

he rolled off of you, now lying beside you as he brushed a sweaty strand of your hair out of your face. he looked at your bra still covering your tits, he leaned in to your ear and whispered "next time, I'm gonna fuck these pretty tits. I was so caught up with your pussy your poor boobs didn't get any love," he said almost sounding genuinely upset and sympathetic for them.

you wanted to ask what you two were now, but a pang of fear hit you; you were scared of his answer, so you decided to stay silent. you wanted to stay awake, but exhaustion was catching up. no matter how hard you tried to fight it, you couldn't. you finally closed your eyes and fell asleep, heseung followed soon after.

i hope you all liked it!! i'm not too confident about this one but yk.. anyways, this is only like the 4th evber fic ive ever written..... im aware its kinda fast paced, i did rush it oops....

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ibyul · 1 year ago

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#ew not me finding disgustingly cheesy stuff I wrote #in the DRAFTS of this blog #right infront of my salad #like. a zombie(?) with no heart and a doctor who the zombie goes to once a day to have his heart checked lol #god i gotta delete these i swear #the thought of anyone receiving my laptop if god forbid something happens to me and then reading these is so mortifying to me #i rlly gotta delete these #do you want to hear the menu of these nonsense posts:#1. we got mr. no heart zombie w/ high body temp and his anemic heart doctor #2. miss palace botanist/healer and her annoying student who ends up being the second prince lol #3. cheerful oblivious guy and some one who views him from far as a thorn that causes hemorrhage #i think i just combined all my fears and horrors into dumb tragedies. fears: unwise relationships. the medical field. unrequited love #sorry to 2016-2019-me... i am deleting ur stuff. i mean. im glad u found some place to project your fear and sadness into.#What better coping method than to turn the story of you and your love for science into an unrequited love tragedy and personifying medicine #listing them here as I delete them because. I want to hold on to them for a few more seconds #4. a stupid long poem that makes it sound like I had a secret relationship but in actuality this is abt how in college-#-my physics lab professor used to abandon us in the lab without giving us instructions so we had to spend hours figuring everything out #honestly im gonna let go of these #they're all from a rough time in my life of studying and feeling like a failure and like I couldn't do anything right #there's no use in revisiting them and feeling bad abt it #delete later

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bluelockmaniac · 14 days ago

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you say we're just friends, but friends don't...

synopsis. in which your so-called friends do things that make you wonder if they're really just your friends after all.

ft. itoshi sae, itoshi rin, michael kaiser, seishiro nagi. 1.8k wc.

content warning. gn!reader- however, reader wears lip gloss in nagi's fic.

𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐄

you had practically dragged sae into helping you bake rin’s birthday cake, countering his reluctance with incessant nagging until he finally gave in (only after you pointed out that rin was his beloved younger brother).

currently, you were working your arm muscles as you mixed the cake batter by hand like your life depended on it. across from you, sae leaned lazily against the counter, whipping the cream with an electric mixer, which you thought was unfair, considering he was a professional athlete.

his sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, exposing his toned forearms, and his auburn hair was slightly messy.

“how’s it going?” you asked between pants, nodding toward the bowl of fluffy whipped cream he was cradling easily in one arm.

sae set the bowl down on the counter before turning to the sink and washing his hands.

“it’s done, you just need to check the taste.” he said plainly, wiping his hands with the ridiculously floral apron tied around his waist.

you hummed, abandoning your whisk to step beside him, scanning the counter for a spoon, or a spatula, or anything you could taste-test with.

before you could reach for one, sae nonchalantly dipped a clean finger into the whipped cream and held it out toward your lips with a blank expression on his face.

“here. taste it.”

your eyebrows shot up in surprise, hesitating for a split second. but he seemed so normal, bored, about it that you felt ashamed for assuming he meant anything more with his action.

you scolded yourself internally for reading too much into it, and leaned forward, taking his finger into your mouth and licking the sweet cream off with a drag of your tongue.

it was delicious– airy and light. “this is perfect, sae.” you pulled back with a satisfied hum, smiling. your tongue darted out to lick the lingering frosting off your lips.

you could clearly see his adam’s apple bob slightly as he tried to keep his collected demeanor in check. you were just about to tease him, but he did not give you the chance.

without breaking eye contact, he brought that same finger to his own lips and licked it clean, his tongue flicking lightly against the tip of his finger, where your mouth had been moments before.

you swore your soul left your body. once you saw his poorly concealed smirk, you realized that that was one-hundred percent intentional, he absolutely did that on purpose to fluster you.

“mmm, sweet.” he mused casually, rinsing his hands again. “rin’ll like this. thanks.”

you could only stand there, cheeks burning hot as you gripped onto the edge of the countertop.

“if you like me, just say it, you idiot…” you muttered under your breath, so low you were sure that he couldn’t have heard it.

but of course, he did.

he shot you a sly glance over his shoulder, a rare smile on his mouth.

“my birthday’s in a month.”

𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍

you were mid-rant, waving your hands animatedly as you walked alongside rin through the park, venting about the gossip and rumours circulating around you both in school.

he responded in his usual way, with occasional hums, slight nods, and an unreadable expression that made you question if he was even listening. he did not seem to be as bothered as you had expected.

the wind was very strong today. it whipped your hair across your face every few seconds, and with your hands full, you were left awkwardly huffing and puffing it out of the way while talking.

“like, can you– huffff– believe it?” you complained, blowing sharply at a particularly stubborn strand. “hufff– people actually think we’re hufff– secretly dating or something.”

you were too caught up in your rambling to notice the faint smile tugging at the corner of rin’s lips. he found it cute, the way your cheeks puffed and your lips puckered every time you tried (and failed) to blow your hair away.

you went on, oblivious, “seriously, just because– hufff– we’re together a lot, does not mean that we’re—”

your body went rigid before you could even finish your sentence. rin had reached over, without hesitation, and swept the strands aside with gentle fingers, tucking them carefully behind your ear.

his knuckles lingered against your cheek for a second longer than it should have, as if savoring the contact, before pulling away and resumed his impassive demeanor.

“there, perfect.” he murmured, and you could only hope he couldn’t hear your heart’s pounding. “you can continue where you left off.”

you gawked at him, hastily glancing around to make sure nobody was there to witness the… platonic gesture. you half-expected to see your whole class hiding behind a tree. you two would never beat the allegations then.

“rin, what the hell–!” you blurted. “be careful next time! what if somebody saw that??”

rin merely stared at you, as if he was admiring art, then tore his gaze away and looked off into the distance like the clouds were suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.

you barely had time to process his look before his voice cut through yet again.

“are you implying you want a ‘next time’?” he asked smoothly, throwing you a side-glance. your mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. you could only curse under your breath, feeling your face burn hotter by the second. this man was dangerously quick with his words.

“that’s not what I meant– you know what i meant…the rumours…” you mumbled, focusing intently on your feet. as you walked, your fingers lightly brushed against his. you told yourself it was accidental, you told yourself not to look at him or you’d regret it. but you looked up anyway.

“rumours, huh.” rin let out a soft scoff. he shifted closer, deliberately matching your pace so that your hands would keep touching ‘accidentally’. his teal eyes locked onto yours as he spoke softly.

“i’m trying to make it so they’re not rumours anymore.”

𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑

the couch was too wide for his excuse to make any sense.

you stood there awkwardly, clutching your popcorn bowl, eyeing the spacious couch that was not completely taken over by your so-called friend. kaiser lounged across it like the self-proclaimed emperor he was, his legs outstretched arrogantly and his arms folded behind his head on the armrest.

and naturally, he had the audacity to pat his thigh with that infuriatingly cocky grin of his.

“there’s nowhere to sit,” he said with faux innocence.

you sighed, setting the bowl down on the coffee table and giving him an unimpressed stare. “maybe because you’re taking up the whole couch?”

still, you found yourself settling down onto his lap with an exaggerated huff. though your heart was already racing. truth was, this situation– which shouldn’t really occur between friends– had already happened before, and you’d invited him over tonight hoping it would happen again. and judging by his grin, you had a feeling he was well aware.

a startled gasp was drawn from your lips as kaiser’s arms snaked around your waist like it was normal. you met his not-very-innocent smile with wide eyes.

“michael—!” you scolded, cheeks burning, but you made no effort to remove his arms.

“what?” he smirked, pinching your cheek gently. “feeling comfortable? i know this seat’s the best in the house.”

you grumbled softly before shifting to lie fully across him, and you felt his arms tighten around you with satisfaction. leaning up, you brought your lips close to his ears, and let your voice drop to a whisper.

“... you’re being ridiculous,” you murmured, your voice tickling his ear and sending a shiver down his spine. “don’t get used to this.”

with a little smirk of your own, you tucked yourself back onto him, pressing your heated against his chest as you turned your attention to the tv.

kaiser chuckled lowly, running a hand through his bi-coloured hair. his gaze flicked towards you, then back to the tv, where a steamy kiss scene was now playing out.

“were you trying to seduce me just now?” he asked casually.

you said nothing, stubbornly pretending to be absorbed in the movie, but your silence gave you away. kaiser’s grin only grew.

he didn’t need an answer.

after all, with your heartbeat drumming so wildly against his chest, you might as well have been shouting it.

𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈

you sipped leisurely on the caramel latte you’d just bought, settling into an empty table while waiting for nagi to pick up his order. just as you leaned down for another sip, you were startled by a sudden presence at your back.

without asking, nagi leaned down over your shoulder and stole a sip from your straw, his half-lidded eyes locking onto yours as he did.

“s-seishiro!” you yelped, snatching your cup away from his mouth. warmth bloomed across the apples of your cheeks as you stared embarrassedly at the straw where nagi’s lips had lingered a few seconds ago.

does he not realize you two had just indirectly kissed?!

“mm,” he hummed lowily, licking his lips. “tastes like strawberry.”

you blinked at him in confusion. as he slumped iinto the seat across from yours, you furrowed your brows and held your drink protectively. “i… don’t know what you’re talking about. it’s caramel-flavoured.”

“huh…?” nagi tilted his head, propping his chin on his palm, gazing at you as if you weren’t the one making sense. “i wasn’t talking about the drink. i meant you taste like strawberry.”

oh.

your brain short-circuited. it hit you belatedly– you had applied strawberry-scented lip gloss before coming here. and now you could see the faint sheen left on his lips from the gloss residue on the straw.

before you could recover, you noticed nagi wasn’t looking at you directly, but at your lips. your heart was betraying you, thumping in a pace that wouldn’t be normal for someone supposedly just sharing a drink with a friend.

why was he looking at your lips?? no, worse, why were you looking at his??

you thought you caught the ghost of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, but you didn’t stick around to confirm it. you stood abruptly from your seat.

“i’m going to quickly grab a new straw, i’ll be right ba–” before you could escape, nagi’s hand firmly caught your wrist, preventing you from leaving.

“don’t,” he said simply, shrugging like it was no big deal. “line’s too long.”

that was a half-assed excuse and he knows it– you could easily ask for a straw at the counter.

“besides,” he added with a lazy blink, “it’s not that big of a deal.”

you hesitated before sinking back into your seat. “...okay… i guess.” your gaze drifted to the top of the straw, glossy with a shine you hadn’t cared about a minute ago, but now couldn’t stop noticing.

indirect kiss, indirect kiss, indirect kiss.

nagi leaned back in his chair, a little smile on his lips as he watched you bring the straw back into your mouth.

and despite your brain screaming otherwise, you took another sip.

#౨ৎ — vivi writes.#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #michael kaiser x reader #kaiser x reader #rin x reader #sae x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #seishiro nagi x reader #nagi x reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x you #bllk x y/n #bllk x you

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anantaru · 28 days ago

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⚝ DAY 9 — HE'S A VIRGIN

kinktober 2024. — masterlist | ao3

— including. — aventurine, blade, boothill, sunday

— warnings. — fem! reader, virgin hsr men, virginity loss, inexperienced af & pussy drunk, established relationship, they're kinda whiny, dirty talk

⚝ — AVENTURINE

aventurine doesn't know how to properly touch you, and it's cute— right? of course it is, yet again, it's not like he wasn't aware on how to trace sweet patterns all over your flesh, yet without experience, he was frightened he'd fail to make you feel good.

but he's a gambler, isn't he? and this— this is the wager he'd risk everything on.

he cups your face with trembling hands, lips parting against yours with the kind of hunger that doesn't belong to a man who's done this before— it's worshipping, yes, and wild? like he's tasting pure wealth, real power, you, all in one drag of breath and tongue meshed together.

and there's a moment aventurine thinks he can play it cool, settle down his excitement with some jokes curled at the edge of his lips— "what's the risk here, really?" he drawls, but then you slowly guide him in, inch by inch, step by step, and his whole face fractures.

his breath abandons him all at once— violently, shamefully, like a confession torn from the throat at knifepoint as his mouth falls open to moan out your name, lips parted in disbelief on how good you felt around him, not even a gasp escaping, only a shuddering intake of air that sounds more like penance than relief when his thick length pushes itself past your hole, practically bullying itself in.

white-knuckled, he grips the sheets and cages you in within his arms as if the sensation has torn straight through to his spine as he rocks his cock once more, pushing past your creamy hole again and again and again with shallow, sloppy thrusts when he winces, yes, cries as your walls suckle and constrict around him, your stomach tensing as he whines into your neck.

"shit— shit, it"s—" aventurine cannot even finish his words without melting it into a brittle whimper, and you pull your hips up a bit to give him better entry as he pants hotly at the pleasure, his body betraying him with the enormity of feeling you, as if the sensation of your deepest spongiest spots itself were an affliction too great to name.

you move your hips up and up to grind just enough and he gasps loudly, like am animal without shame, covering his cheeks in a pink flush as he stares down at you— sweating, chest heaving, hair stuck to his forehead, "you feel like— like, i'm not supposed to survive this," he groans, voice breaking, "fuck— do it again, please do that thing you did—"

and when you do, slowly grinding your hips up, your walls milking him sensually, he throws his head back, eyes lurching back, whites flashing— an expression not of ecstasy, but of some higher derangement. his lips, clearly bitten to a sickly red, tremble as though every nerve beneath them was a silent cry for more.

he reaches down with trembling fingers to tenderly caress your cheek, not understanding how you can feel this good, ugh, like he's never going to recover from this ever, "fuck— i could die like this," his voice slips out like a secret smuggled through clenched teeth;

"—and call it profit."

⚝ — BLADE

without a doubt, blade's kisses were always rushed, yet do not mistake him for the reason that it's not due to the fact that he wanted it to be this way— but because he doesn't know any softness.

yet when his lips meet yours like a wound trying to close, like violence sculpted into affection, blade realizes he's never done anything more than this before and it shows, it clearly did— in how hard he grips at you, anxiously, how tight his jaw was and the lust hovering over his facial features, like pleasure itself might annihilate him.

when you guide his mouth open with yours, his whole body shudders and there's a broken sound you picked up on, something low and strangled, torn from deep inside his throat as his hands fly to your waist— a little too rough, yes, too urgent, almost as if he's pulling you closer, tighter, closer still, he needs you, right now.

and when he feels you for the first time— truly feels you— his knees nearly buckle, not because he's overwhelmed, but because he's terrified he might never stop craving this moment once it's over.

on top of that, blade never stops pecking your lips as he kisses like a man who's never thought he'd be allowed to do this, and now, well, that he has it, he's going to burn for it.

you're riding him slowly at first, your squeals and mewls turning him on— you're beautiful, blade thinks, your moans spilling from you like sugared blasphemies— those candid, innocent, candy-shaped sounds, so bare in their honesty that it hurts to hear them and blade could've just cummed right here and there with a view like that.

he's trembling as he grasps at your moving hips— his jaw clenched, teeth grinding, hands squeezing and wiggling your flesh like he's trying to stop himself from acting out what his body's screaming to do. you repeatedly sink onto him as the air rips out from his lungs in one long, guttural moan— your cunt swallowing him whole, all at once without mercy, sucking him in like you're even needier and more lusting than him, whining out his name in brittle, cute tunes as you're being spread wide open by his cock throbbing inside.

his hips stutter upwards as he presses himself entirely inside you in many small, uncoordinated jerks as he claws at the sheets, no, fists them— quite literally anything to ground himself, little does blade realize there's no ground for him to hold onto.

there's only you— your tight, hot, walls wrapped around him, feeling like a punishment, a deliciously hot punishment— fuck, you cannot be real, your pussy was so hot, soft and spongy, his cock just drags and slips along the insides of your walls with such ease.

"i'm gonna—" he hisses through his teeth, hips fucking into you, "gonna lose my fucking mind—" as you begin to ride him faster, crueler when his body bucks and bucks and bucks then shudders violently, fingers digging into your skin, forehead pressed to your chest like he's ashamed of the sounds he's making.

"don't look at me," blade winces, voice hoarse and broad arms wrapped around your waist, "fuck, don't— i'm gonna come too fast, i can't—" but you make him, in fact, you force him to keep voicing his pleasure as you grind down faster, your mouth hovering at his ear, whispering filth not meant for daylight— each word a slow, everlasting violation.

in that moment, blade doesn't shatter— he breaks.

he sobs as you both fuck each other desperately, mind buzzing and thigh muscles clenching as multiple, sharp, beautiful sound of skin on skin ring through your ears— and then he begs, "please, i can't hold back, don't stop, don't— don't make me, fuck more—'

but you do— in fact, ultimately still your hips, immediately, controlling his orgasm at last.

because blade was made to be ruined.

⚝ — BOOTHILL

as was anticipated, boothill grins at first, easy and cocky, you know? all swagger and silver-tongued charm, the kind of smile which was made to deflect and disarm, never leaving behind his cool persona yet the second your mouth touches his, the mask he's carefully put on drops instantly as he goes rigid, his breath caught right in his chest, hands hovering like he doesn't know where to land them.

you take the lead and that breaks him.

he whines softly, almost shameful, yeah— as your tongue touches his carefully, dancing and circling around his wet muscle with his fingers tightening in your dress, carefully pulling you in like he's afraid you'll stop if he applied too much strength.

there's no finesse to the way boothill kisses, no rhythm— just desperate, clumsy passion, teeth clicking by accident, nose bumping yours, but fuck, he means it— every moan, every twitch of his hips, every shaky inhale against your cheek— it's real.

raw. untrained. perfect.

and when he pulls back at last, flushed and swollen-lipped and dazed, he whispers, "y-you— you sure you want to—?" as his voice trembles like he's already addicted to how you're about to feel around him.

boothill hasn't touched you the way he aches to— not with the desperation clawing at his insides, his hands haven't claimed the plushy flesh of your ass, haven't properly gripped and kneaded like a man starving. he hasn't wedged himself between your thighs yet, hasn't carved himself into your wet, sloppy cunt like he's imagined night after night.

although the second he slides into you, he screams, chokes on it halfway, trying to muffle it with his hand, but it's too late— you've already heard what you've done to him, his cock weeping when he fucks into your tight walls as they milk his thick seed one by one.

he's wide-eyed, dazed, his lips trembling around some half-moan, half-laugh, like he cannot believe this was happening right now, "ugh, darlin’ you— I can't— how're you so tight—" as you crush your pussy down with his hips bucking up without permission, then he sobs, actually sobs when you attempt to go slower, clutching your waist like you're the last real thing on this earth.

“you're squeezin’ me like— ugh— it's like your body knows me already," boothill drawls and throws his head back, "i'm not gonna last, baby, i'm gonna lose it—" as you kiss him deeply, tongue sliding into his mouth as he moans into it like it's salvation, his fingers trembling where they grip you with his thighs shaking under yours.

his body was not made out of flesh— no, not in the way flesh was intended, it was cold, not merely in temperature, but in essence, like the echo of a cathedral long abandoned. boothill felt manufactured, as though he were patched together in some chamber where light was forbidden and love even more so.

the man thought that he was never made for desire, in fact, only for function, for ruin, for the mechanical repetition of duty— yet when you touch him, when you kiss and smile at him, it is as if you are laying hands upon judgment itself, removing everything that has happened to him— smoothly and unyielding with love sprinkled in your eyes.

at last, here he was, trembling under you in the faintest, most shameful of ways— his ribs, cool beneath your fingers, feeling like prison bars, and still he lets you in, babbling, not knowing what he's saying anymore, words like please and more and ugh i wanna stay inside you forever spill from his lips like he's utterly drunk on you.

⚝ — SUNDAY

over the slopes of your body, sunday shakes when he ultimately touches your face— and he's good with words, yes— but here, in this special moment in time, there's only silence, nothing but the tremor of it— wet, shivering gasps caught between parted lips when he kisses you.

no language, only the soft collapse of restraint, the sound of want making the squeezes of flesh without the dignity of words, only the terrifying intimacy of skin meeting skin.

his lips brush yours once, twice— and he gets greedier, kissing you trice, testing and asking, and when you respond— when you give, he sinks into it like a drowning man, mouth plush and parted, dragging kisses down to your jaw, your neck, your collarbone with a kind of breathless awe.

he pants into your mouth like the taste of you was something forbidden, and he's just taken communion with it as his hands never stop moving, tracing every inch like he's memorizing your body.

sunday's never done this before, but somehow it's perfect— because he worships every second of it, kissing you like a call you didn't know you needed answered, evidently, the man moans your name like it burns his tongue— heavy with honor and the feverish throb of surrender.

with no punches pulled, it leaves his mouth dry, as if the very syllables were stitched within a delicious act of wickedness when his hands remain shaking, large palms warming up your hips as his fingers squeeze you towards him to move you over his erection.

oh well, sunday was so anxious he's holding you tighter than necessary, but the feeling grounds him as you took him easily.

he gasps at the moment he presses into where it goes further, his cock head popping in with ease, his breath seizing, strangled in his throat, as if his body can no longer bear the weight of sensation.

his eyes fall shut almost immediately, lashes damp with something too raw to name— like paradise, like ecstasy— quivering as though even that small act of surrender might undo him completely.

you lean forward and lick into his parted lips as he moans softly into the sloppy kiss— and fuck, you feel like you might be going insane on how big your boyfriend was, in fact, you knew he must be packed down there but ugh— your lungs were straining from pulling all the energy into keeping him inside as you squeeze him ever so tightly, every nerve on your walls ringing with the exquisite panic of too much pleasure and nowhere to place it.

underneath you, sunday appeared fragile, not weak, okay? do not call nor act like he was weak, ever.

the man was delicate in his awe, yes, in how much this mattered to him, how badly he's waited all this time, "you're inside me," he whines wetly as he ceases to think and starts to crave, "i'm inside you, i can't... it's too much."

he starts to experimentally thrust into you, sloppy grinds and shoves of hips smacking into your heat as he finds the perfect cycle for the both of you, especially for him to properly feel you but also cherish each softness and gnaw of your gummy walls, the ideal back and forth of his dick as you squeal his name for more.

sunday was filled with gratitude, lapping into your mouth and moaning into your lips like he's been possessed— sloppy and overwhelmed as your boyfriend chokes on a moan after thanking you for making him feel so good, "i've dreamed of this, but i never... never like this."

he moves with you now, the rhythm unraveling— each thrust deeper, needier, yet graceless in its urgency, as though guided more by instinct than thought. every motion dragging a cry from both of your throats, tangled in the wet heat between you as he moans against your skin without shame, breath hitching, mouth desperate against your neck, kissing you like it might quiet the quivering in his bones.

his voice cracks, although not from pain— but from the impossible, unbearable fact of you and him being one now, "fuck— i'm yours," he breathes, doused lips smearing his saliva over your skin, "baby— i'm yours, you hear me? i wanna stay here forever."

he's red all over— flushed to the tips of his ears, skin damp and shining, breath coming in ragged as his back arches, "i'd give you my soul," each of his words were fractured at the edges, broken by the quiver in his breath, moans upon moans laced through every syllable.

"if you just keep fucking me like this."

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