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saetoru · 2 years ago

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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。the dictionary definition of a rich boy

synopsis. that rich guy who won’t stop asking you out is your partner for this project—send help

contents. pre dating rich boy! gojo, college! au, implications of a zenin being pushy on the first date, satoru being distraught you went on a date lol, pre relationship shenanigans with the cutest loser boy !!

word count. 3.8k (it’s literally all just him being a handful)

notes. thank you niku my most cherished gojo stan for comming this (and giving me the most ridiculous tip) i adore you so much :,) mwah 💋

he’s late—gojo is late. in fact, he’s very late, by forty-five minutes and thirty-two seconds to be exact. you aren’t really the count-by-the-second type of person, but somehow when it comes to that irritating, smug, too-talkative brat that you’re stuck with…well, you can’t help but be petty and use the seconds against him too.

he shows up close to an hour after your agreed time, waltzing in with a grin on his face—and, oh, you should kill him. he has the audacity to send you a wink when he walks over, coming up to your table and pushing his sunglasses down his nose just a bit to look you in the eyes over the lenses.

what kind of person wears sunglasses indoors? surely only the kind that are nothing but trouble.

“aw, you’re here already,” gojo hums, “that excited to see me?”

“you’re late,” you spit.

“am i? i could have sworn—”

“now it’ll get dark by the time we get through what we planned for today,” you glare. he looks enthused, positively delighted by the statement—it’s almost as if you’ve offered him candy.

“well, then i’ll just have to walk you to your apartment,” he offers smoothly.

what a jackass. of course, just as expected, he’s still attempting to worm his way into your personal life (and likely your pants) in the most obnoxious of ways. over your dead body, however, will you ever allow him to know where you live, let alone accompany you on the way. you value your sanity, and having a conversation with gojo satoru longer than you absolutely have to seems like the most efficient way to fry every nerve and brain cell you have left.

“absolutely not,” you grit, “you can call me an uber. you pay.”

“alright,” he nods, “i’ll get an uber for you. but i’ll need your number to make sure you made it home safe. otherwise, what kind of partner would i be?”

typically, any normal pair of partners are meant to exchange numbers for a project—it would be the easiest form of communication, and more importantly, you can spam call if gojo decides not to carry his weight instead of just hoping and praying he checks his socials. but you can’t let him have your number—he’s not trustworthy enough for that. the last thing you need is him bombarding you with texts, or worse: calls, in the middle of work and class. so instead, you strictly inform him that any and all communication will occur via social media.

he pouts at that—it’s a cute pout, you have to admit. it’s slightly dangerous, too, because had you not had the self-control you do, you might have caved. but then he lights up at the prospect of you adding him back on socials.

i’ll get your number one of these days, he says confidently. his confidence is as aggravating as the way he clicks his pen in the middle of class. he still chooses to sit right beside you despite all the free and very available seats the entirety of the lecture hall has.

but no, he insists on sitting right next to you—and you? well, you have to hope you don’t get charged with homicide by the end of every class from the constant clicking he makes you endure. despite all that, gojo is surprisingly smart, which means your project might not be so doomed.

he’s annoyingly smart, actually—he never takes notes, and just when you think the professor has him cornered by asking him a question when he’s seemingly dozing off, he answers immediately with the correct answer.

you hate him.

“absolutely not happening,” you grumble, opening your laptop, “anyway i think we should start with—”

“well, i hate to inform you,” he sighs sadly as if it genuinely pains him to say this, “but i’ve actually deleted all my socials.”

“what?” your eye twitches.

“yeah,” he nods, “it’s a bit of a cleanse if you will. staring at your screen all day and finding value in fake posts is not good for mental health, you know? i’m trying to be more in tune with myself. it’s been a real self-journey.”

before the end of this project, you might either be a college dropout or an inmate at the county jail. you’re not sure, either is equally as possible.

“gojo satoru, i am sick of your games,” you spit, “we both know—”

“and i would hate not being in touch with my partner since it’s a crucial part of this project for us to work together,” he hums, something of a smug look plastered on his aggravatingly gorgeous face, “that thirty percent deduction for ineffective partner communication would be such a shame to get when we’re working so hard already on this, wouldn’t you agree?”

is he threatening you? for your number? with your grade? he is, you realize—and you clench your fist tightly around the phone in your hands as he eyes it with a knowing look on his face. he has you right where he wants you, whether you like it or not.

“you’re an asshole,” you spit.

“i’m a mental health advocate,” he gasps—he has the nerve to act offended, even as he’s so obviously enjoying working you up like this. you wish he’d drop dead immediately. maybe you could take his card from his wallet as his cold body lays lifeless on the table and order yourself a new laptop if he did—that would be ideal.

“i saw you post on your story last night—”

“you didn’t watch it,” he pouts, “i posted a shirtless gym selfie just for you—wait a second, you pay attention to my story, huh?” he cuts himself off with a smirk, wiggling his eyebrows at you, “c’mon, you don’t have to force yourself to skip them. you know you wanna watch them.”

“no, i don’t,” you seethe, “it was just the first one at the top. stop being self-important—”

“anyway,” he drawls, eyeing your phone again. you want to splash your coffee in his face. “i’ll need your number,” he sniffs, “the crushing disappointment of you skipping my story made me realize i’m too focused on getting social media validation, so i’m taking a break. it’s the best thing for me to do in my headspace right now. hope you understand.”

“are you kidding me?” you stare at him. he grins before shaking his head.

“i would never joke about mental health,” he says seriously—it’s not as serious as your desire to slap him, however.

“fine,” you take a long, slow sip of your coffee to calm down, “give me your phone.”

“oh, you’re gonna set your own contact?” he brightens, immediately handing you his phone. it’s brand new—the newest model, in fact. it’s barely been a few days since it dropped. truthfully, you’re not even sure why you’re shocked—of course, he, of all people, would upgrade immediately. “how intimate,” he gushes, “it’s almost like we’re going on a date—”

“do not text me outside of project purposes,” you interrupt, thrusting the phone back into his hands, “got it?”

“you got it,” he grins triumphantly.

—————

like all things he does, gojo finds a roundabout way to keep his word without actually keeping it. it’s his secret talent, you think—finding loopholes through all the technicalities of things.

hey when ur free can u read over my portion? i just finished

btw r u going to that frat party this wknd? u don’t seem the party type haha but u should come

i’ll introduce u to suguru! he’s my best friend he’s super nice u’ll like him

oh and when do u wanna meet this week? promise i’ll be on time this time ;)

you make sure to only respond to the questions regarding your project—just because he technically kept his word and started the conversation centered around the project before getting off topic doesn’t mean you have to indulge him. and the way he types is infuriatingly annoying—who shortens every possible word like that? only him, you think.

okay, maybe you’re just nitpicking now, but every time you see his name pop up on your screen, your mood sours tenfold. you decide to answer as dryly as possible.

k i’ll look. we meet same time as last.

the period at the end should add the perfect touch—you grin to yourself in pride at that one. instantly, bubbles pop up and indicate he’s typing again. your smile very quickly drops.

wow ur a rly dry texter aren’t u?

that’s ok i don’t judge

so how bout the party?

i can be ur escort ;)

it’ll be fun!

from his side of the screen, gojo watches as your contact shows notifications silenced at the bottom. he pouts to himself—no party, then, he thinks.

—————

gojo satoru, the guy who seemingly has everything he could ever want, likes you.

frankly, he’s not really sure why—at first, he finds you mildly amusing, and he thinks it’d be fun to have a short fling with you perhaps. somewhere along the line, however, that changes. he watches you dedicatedly take notes in class, no matter how tired you seem from work the night before. he notices the way you chew on your bottom lip when you’re really focused—it’s actually very cute, he thinks. and he’s entertained by the way you always have some smart little retort waiting on your tongue. you’re not boring—and more than anything, you leave him a little humbled. it’s refreshing, and he kind of likes it, if he’s being completely honest.

he’s never liked anyone before—it’s a weird feeling. at best, he’s had a crush where he could appreciate that someone is generally pleasing to the eye and has a personality that might mesh well with his, but he’s never yearned for someone before.

it just so happens to be his luck that the same person he wants more than anything in the entire world (for the first time ever, too) seems to hate his guts. it also happens to be that the same person he wants more than anything is currently getting asked out by some kid from the zenin family. right in front of him. and you’re saying yes.

why on earth would you say yes to a zenin of all people? don’t you value yourself?

gojo can admit that he’s had his fair share of heart robbing and tear inducing moments—he’s not exactly someone with the best track record for commitment, but at least he doesn’t use people for his own benefit. plus, he does, in fact, actually plan on committing to you. that zenin boy most certainly can’t be any good news if he’s anything like naoya, who gojo has met on a multitude of occasions, and knows very well is a scoundrel of a guy.

“see you at nine?” he hears the zenin (what was his name again?) ask you. you nod, smiling sweetly.

why don’t you smile sweetly at him like that? he buys you coffee every week. sure, he only gets to buy you the coffee because you have no choice but to meet him for the project, but he even offers to get you a slice of cake—you don’t ever accept, though, so he ends up eating both. but you do like coffee, very strong coffee that’s probably not sweet enough for his liking, but you enjoy the coffee he buys you nonetheless, and that has to count for something.

“sure, see you at nine,” you hum.

gojo watches in absolute shock (and abject horror) as you look down shyly. as soon as the zenin boy walks away, he stomps up to you.

“hey, what gives?” he asks petulantly, making your face paint on that irritated look that it always seems to adopt when he’s in the vicinity—how rude.

“what do you mean?” you ask tiredly, “i don’t speak toddler, so please use your words—”

“why’d you say yes to that zenin boy—”

“he has a name. it’s—”

“who cares what his name is? he’s an asshole! he won’t treat you right even if his mother’s life is on the line—”

“oh, and you would?” you raise an eyebrow, glaring at him. how is it his place to tell you who’d treat you right and who wouldn’t? how is it his place to even care?

“i would,” he gasps at the accusation, “you’d date a zenin but not me? how come?”

“because you’re annoying,” you counter like it’s obvious.

okay, now that is technically fair—gojo has heard his fair share of you’re annoying’s from people in his life. in fact, a good amount of them come from his own mother, but he’s also dashingly handsome, very good in bed, has soft hair, is tall and muscular, can buy you whatever you like, and can be smart and funny too if you really don’t care for those kinds of things. he’s the entire package and more. and more importantly, he’s not from the zenin family, and that automatically means you’ll actually be treated with an ounce of respect.

he looks at you incredulously, feelings a little hurt. “that’s not true! name one annoying thing i’ve done—”

“you laughed in the middle of me speaking in class.”

“that wasn’t at you! suguru showed me something funny on his phone—”

“and you took like twenty minutes in line ordering the most sweetest drink on the menu while i was running late—”

“you can’t use that against me, that’s not fair! i’m a paying customer, i should be able to get whatever i want. plus, it’s technically not my fault you were late.”

“you rubbed in the fact that you had a black card.”

“you mentioned it first!”

“you were late to our first meeting for the project.”

“okay, that was an honest mistake! people are allowed to make those, you know—”

“i don’t want to go out with you,” you say frustratedly, “and it’s really annoying when you act like a spoiled brat that can’t handle the word no and keep on insisting, okay? so leave me alone unless it’s to discuss our project—which weighs fifty-five percent of our grade, by the way, so don’t even think about getting lazy.”

he is not lazy, he wants to argue.

but before he can, you roll your eyes and take a step to walk around him, leaving him there to blink in shock. okay, he thinks with a huff, so you’re playing hard to get. that’s no matter, he’s good at the chase anyway.

—————

the date doesn’t seem to have gone well. gojo can tell because your eyes are slightly red and puffy, and you’re extra grouchy today in class. your professor seems to have noticed, too, because instead of calling on you today, she calls on gojo extra as a rare show of mercy.

gojo doesn’t mind—this class is surprisingly easy, and he’s bored half the time anyway. he might as well indulge the uptight professor in an ugly brown pencil skirt and answer her pretentious questions that aren’t as complex as she thinks they are.

“so,” he finally breaks the silence, “how was your date—”

“if you’re looking for a chance to say i told you so, just get it over with, you jerk,” you grumble. he raises his eyebrows in surprise before both hands go up in surrender.

“i wasn’t,” he says genuinely, “you just…uh…you look upset, is all.”

you hesitate for a short second, gauging his sincerity for a moment before sighing and slumping on the desk, cheek resting on your arm. gojo resists the urge to poke the soft flesh—it’ll probably make you mad, and you’re already in a bad mood.

“he was…pushy,” you say quietly, “i don’t really believe in taking things far on the first date. he didn’t like that.” instantly, his fists clench tightly, eyeing you from the side carefully, almost in concern. “nothing happened,” you wave off, “but he did make me feel disgusting,” you mutter.

“yeah, well, he is a zenin,” he points out, “they’re…well, my family’s known them for a while. my mom hates them.”

you look over at him in mild interest, raising an eyebrow. “don’t tell me there’s drama in the rich community,” you gasp, “i thought you all just came as one to sip fancy wine and laugh at the poor together.”

he snorts, throwing you a toothy grin that you think for a moment is kind of cute—but that doesn’t mean he’s any different from the rest of the rich folks. someone of gojo satoru’s caliber has no business mixing with someone of yours—it’s common knowledge. gojo has everything he wants, and if he doesn’t, it’s a simple matter of asking before it’s his. there’s simply no way you can mold into his world to be what he needs you to be, and when the time inevitably comes when he realizes you’re not what he wants, well…you’d like to save yourself the wounded pride and crushed soul while you can.

“sometimes we have fancy appetizers too with the wine,” he jokes, “don’t forget those.”

“oh, my apologies,” you chuckle. gojo likes it when you laugh, he decides. it looks much better than when you’re glum—he thinks seeing your lips quirked in anything other than a smile is a waste of your perfect features, and he can’t have that.

“my mom married my old man in this stupid arranged marriage or something,” he explains casually, like it’s just the norm. you suppose it is—for the rich, at least. you wonder briefly if gojo will have a marriage planned for his future, too, and you wonder if he’s okay with that. surely it’ll be some wealthy and fancy socialite of a girl that fits his family’s standards. someone who’s not you—not that you care anyway, you wouldn’t marry him regardless. “my grandma wanted her to marry the zenin, but she said no. said he treated her like a piece of meat every time they met, so she settled for my dad instead. lucky her, 'cause now i’m her son,” he beams.

settled—something about the way he says it makes you think his parents must not really care for each other as a husband and wife should. it makes you think briefly about what his childhood might’ve been like, not watching his parents happy and in love the way they should be. but still, the way gojo talks about his mother is fond, with a gentle smile on his face as he recalls the things she’s told him. you can’t help but smile a little too.

“i think that makes you the lucky one,” you snort, “you’d still be her son. just that you’d be a zenin.”

he crinkles his nose at the thought, dramatically shivering and making you giggle. “gross,” he gags.

“well, now you have her to thank,” you hum, “your dad would’ve been…whoever the zenin she was supposed to marry is.”

“yeah, well, trust me,” he mumbles, his smile dropping ever so slightly, “my old man’s not that big of an upgrade from a zenin. even my grandfather’s sick of him. imagine being such a douche, your own dad can’t stand you.”

you’re learning more about gojo in one sitting than you ever imagined (or planned) to learn—part of that is because he seems like he’s the type to overshare on the first meet; the other part…well, you have to be honest with yourself, it’s not exactly a bad pastime hearing him talk about himself. gojo is an odd piece of work, and you can’t say you hate learning about the little pieces that come together to make him so weird.

okay, perhaps weird is a bit rude, you think—he’s…unique.

“oh, so you’re the dictionary definition of a rich boy, huh?” you hum, resting your cheek on your hand as you sit up and face him—gojo, for a quick moment, feels his heart stutter when you talk to him like that: with your undivided attention like he’s the only one in the room.

“what makes you say that?”

“daddy issues is like…the first thing in the rich boy starter pack.”

he laughs at that, smooth and almost sweet—it’s a dangerous thing. it’s easy to attract you to him, like a bee to honey, with the way his lips curl like that, showing off his dimples. but the bees can easily turn into maggots—and you don’t want to find yourself as a dead carcass by the end of this.

“i don’t have daddy issues,” he says smoothly, “that old man should sleep with both eyes open. if anything, he has son issues.”

“you’re hands down the oddest person i have ever met,” you mumble.

“what was that? did you say hottest? yeah, i know—”

“shut up, jackass,” you scowl, shoving his shoulder when he leans closer with a bat of his lashes. he laughs, and so do you—and just for one, quick, momentary instance, gojo satoru is not so bad. dangerous and a bad choice maybe, a setup for a big mistake perhaps, something you should stay away from, in fact.

but not so bad.

“how about i show you what it’s like to go on a date with a gojo,” he grins, winking easily. he’s persistent—very persistent, you note. “you might like it a lot more than a zenin.”

“no, thank you,” you hold a hand up, “never going to happen.”

“never say never,” he hums, “you might eat your words.”

—————

“hey, satoru?”

“that’s not my name.”

“that actually is your name,” you say tiredly.

“hmph,” satoru rolls over, dramatically tugging the blankets over his body as he shuffles away from you, “not to you, it’s not.”

you sigh, pursing your lips at his antics. “oh my god. okay—hey, toru?” you correct yourself. and just like that, he turns back around, grinning brightly as he inches closer until his head is resting on your chest.

“yes, baby?” he says sweetly, earning a roll of your eyes as your fingers weave into his hair. it’s soft—you don’t think you ever want to let go.

“it’s way better dating a gojo, by the way,” you murmur, “than a zenin.”

“oh yeah?” he grins smugly, arm draping over your body as he kisses your jaw, “i told you it would be, didn’t i?”

“i haven’t dated other rich families to compare, though,” you tease, “you might get replaced.”

“unlikely,” he chuckles, “no one,” there’s a kiss to your jaw, “will love you,” another kiss to your cheek, “like me.”

finally, there’s a slow, soft kiss to your lips—and when he kisses you like that, you have no choice but to believe him.

satoru sooooo sends multiple texts back to back he just like me for real

#teepods.writings #fics.#rich boy! au #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you

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13tinysocks · 2 days ago

Text

My Dead Girlfriend

Good things are hard to come by in the desert, but surprisingly, not drugs. Alliances are forged over questionable motivations. A real romance takes root.

[Part one] [Ao3] [10]

11 * Sucker Punch [9k]

"My, my, my what a position:

The love of my life smokin' crack in the kitchen,

Lovely long nails and a nasty half grin:

"It's a livin'," she shrugs."

Some Kind Of Disaster Relief - The Taxpayers

"Hey." You turn on your side away from the noise. "Hey." Louder. "Goddamn it," your cot was jostled under your form, "wake up shithead."

You peel open an eye to find Tracksuit leaned over the bed. The sun pierced through the porthole. Everyone else had gone searching, leaving him on babysitting duty. His life had been threatened approximately five times that very morning and hearing you hiss, "What?" Made you particularly unlikable in the moment.

He stopped jostling the bed. Considered leaving you to get fucked but remembered- this was like being a producer. Nudge things the right way and the desired outcome should occur. His was mild entertainment and not the group eating itself alive so he said, "They sent me after you two last night."

Now you were sitting upright, bug eyed. "What-"

"I heard you two mashing pissers-"

"Excuse me?" You shot out of bed, standing unsteadily.

"-And I turned around and told 'em you were yelling at Omni Boy or whatever. I covered for you asses for like, twenty minutes. Do you know how many times I had to stop those guys from going after you? Too many. Almost beat the shit outta me and there I go thinking' you'll be smart and not super obvious. You come back, go right to sleep like you just got hit with the best dick of your life- like are you kidding?" His hands tangle in his hair. "Oooh, you're so lucky we're not full blooded dude. They would'a been able to smell that."

"We didn't-"

"I know fuckin' when I hear it, toots, don't even." His hand came to your face to shut you up, pressing to your lips, other arm securing you in place, "What I'm sayin' is, if they say shit to you about it at the fire tonight, you were laying into him but not laying him, ya hear? Cuz they ain't stupid, they know somethin' went down between you two and if I get caught lying- I'm fucked cuz I don't want those stupid assholes fighting and collapsing the caves- you know our only fucking source of water so sue me-" He stops himself from going on a tangent while you're effectively muted.

Your eyes narrow. Hands come to his wrist to peel his hand off your mouth to tell him to die. He holds firm, but not enough to hurt.

"Relax! I'm not a snitch and I don't fuckin' care. I just wanted to warn you that the next time you go romping around- be fuckin' careful, dude. If any of those guys went instead of me? They would'a intervened- we wouldn't be runnin' outta jerky, ya kno' what I mean. Nod if you get it." You nod. "Okay, alright, cool, I'm gonna take my hand away now and you're not gonna freak your shit on me."

His palm, calloused and slightly sweaty unlatches from your cheeks. The arm that held your waist in place fell away. You step back. Your head swivels left, right. Double-checking you were alone. "You heard us?"

Under the mask his brows peak. "I'm shocked nobody else did, dude. You were like," his voice pitches, hands go to his knocking knees and chest puffing perversely, "Uhhhhnggg, fuck me Markus."

"Shut up." He went ridged, quiet. Looks like your powers had returned for the day. You weren't foolish enough to make him hurt himself. He'd get back up and do you worse. Being found alone with his neck snapped on the cave floor also wasn't a good plan.

He broke free about ten second later, shaking himself off like your control was slime on his skin. "Eugh, that feels like ass."

"Don't make me do it again." You stand, stretch, feel your back crack. Find your dried underclothes neatly folded on Omni's side of the cot.

Tracksuit follows your gaze. "He's also not hiding it, awesome. I'd say it was nice knowing you assholes but- it hasn't really been."

You pick up the clothes. "This doesn't mean anything."

"That he folds your clothes like some house husband? I couldn't imagine doing that even for some bitch who gave my the messiest sloppy of my life. That's like, love, dude."

Your stomach curdles. "It's not." You check the multiple openings in the cave walls, where anyone could be returning at any time. "Keep your voice down."

"I'm not being anywhere loud as you." He snickers. "Marrrrkusss, unngggnhh!"

"Shut up, turn around."

He did. You quickly took off the top of the armor and slapped on the tank top. You were pulling off the solider pants, back to Tracksuit when the control snapped. "You gotta- whoa! Whoa! No! I don't care how nice your ass is, I'm not getting killed over mediocre pussy!"

You leap into the shorts. "You were supposed to stay turned around." You grab the pants and boots off the ground, slipping them back on. "And please, don't flatter yourself."

Though your ass was hidden under tighty-whiteys, he still watched it. "I mean, you flattered him, who is also me, plenty last night."

"Want to find out how hard you can hit yourself?" You toss the empty threat.

He caught it. "Kind of, but I don't wanna end up lookin' like Seven. Lensless, you called 'im?" He sat pressed against the wall. "Crazy son of a bitch." Out of his pocket came that pack of alien cigarettes. Nine down to six he smoked in secret so nobody would ask for a hit. He caught your eye, "You don't plan on going out today, do you? Anywhere you could go they've already mapped beyond it like, a hundred times." He pulled the curtain from his face and tucked it to his left ear. Revealing the low of his face- Mark's. "Dunno how nobody's found shit yet."

***

Sand. Lots and lots and lots of sand was shoved into every unused crevice. Mushy mold and mildew that he helped the bugs propagate, just to use as wall padding. Their super hearing was nowhere near full-blooded Viltrumite level, but he couldn't risk the others finding his personal paradise to share with you.

It'd be ready soon, if all went to plan. Just you, him, bugs, and the dark.

***

You knew you were near useless in this survival situation. They were aliens, nearly God-like. You were a doll to throw around. You yearned for normal people, to play with them the way the Marks played with you. To be in some sort of control.

You consider leaving, knowing Tracksuit would be obligated to follow. But you also consider the more you moved, the more they'd feed you of Emperor at the campfire tonight. You could barely stomach what you'd already eaten. Puking was a constant, round the corner threat.

The blue-wrapped cigarette was placed between his lips. A blur passed over his face and it was lit, glowing green at the end. He takes a drag, relaxing fully against the stone. A pillar of smoke forced out between his teeth, light gray, and smelling of coriander. He catches you staring and holds up the side of his hand, "Don't need a lighter when ya got friction."

You point at the thing. "Give me a hit."

He leaned forward, held the cigarette out to you, glowing end first. You take it in two fingers and place it into your mouth. The pale filter still damp with his spit. (You hadn't smoked in a long time / You'd never smoked) and were nervous to see how this would go. If alien tobacco would kill you or not. You don't think, feel the hold loosening, so you suck it down.

Lemongrass and rotten laundry had a baby that shit acid down your throat- that's what it felt like. You jerked, folding forward, hacking up wispy clouds of smoke and spittle. The control breaks and the cigarette is snatched away. Your hands are propped on your knees. You could only see his boots as tears stung the corners of your eyes.

"I'd whoop your ass for that," the cigarette is placed back where it belonged between his lips, "but you're kinda doin' that for me."

You'd curse him if you could.

"Dude, this shit kills like, most alien species. Didn't you look at the warning on the box?" He points at a struck-through red circle with alien looking lungs in the middle. "No baby-shit lungs can touch this shit."

"Obviously," you hack out the syllables one by one, trying hard not to puke on your shoes, "I didn't."

"No dip." It pissed you off how easily he breathed the acrid air in.

You straighten up, pounding your chest, "What's in that?"

"Uhhhh," he flipped the box in his hand, squinting behind the lenses, "a hundred percent pure Loethicainian root. Huh, thought it was laced with something else."

"You didn't even know what was in it before you started smoking it?" Your voice cracks. Throat feeling like an uncleaned chimney after one puff.

"You didn't either." The box disappeared into his pocket. His palm outstretched in front of you, "Alright, now give it."

"What?"

"You took a hit'a my shit, I'ma take a hit'a yours." His fingers flexed, "Hand it over."

You flinched back, hands going defensively to your pockets. "No way."

"I could just take it, but I'm being nice and asking."

That was true. You preferred to have some dignity, so you pulled out a bottle. "Just don't over-"

The lid was crushed off the top, thrown aside. He knocked his head back, thumb punching a hole in the bottle bottom. Cigarette held off to the side in his spare hand. The bottle was shotgunned before you could blink.

"-dose."

He groaned, threw the bottle to the floor. "Tastes like shit."

"So does that." You watch him chase the bitter cough syrup taste with a pull off the cigarette. Man had taste buds of steel.

He shrugged, "Ya get used to it. When's it supposed to kick?" He sat himself on the closest cot. Gray's. He'd definitely notice things shifted about but Tracksuit couldn't care less.

"Uhm, I thought you've done codeine before?"

"Nah, buddy Rex did, though. Guy did everything he got his hands on." He sighed, hands going behind his head, now sprawled on Gray's cot. "Miss 'im."

You stand by the cot edge, watching him smoke. Feeling no difference beside the burning in your throat. Maybe one hit wasn't bad. "That Guardians of The Globe dickhead?"

Tracksuit smiled around the cigarette. "He made it to The Guardians in your world? Good for him."

You sit, pulling the last bottle of codeine out of your pants. "Should be a half hour before that kicks in. You sure you'll be fine? That's way more than most people can take. I don't feel like eating you." Though there was enough of Emperor left to last you all a week at this rate. Hell, all of him hadn't been smoked yet. Apparently without green plants to burn there was less smoke, the process took days longer. What hadn't been cooked yet started to rot. Gray set aside the first cooked, stalest, safest jerky for you to eat. You hadn't today, though you should.

"I'm an alien." He laughs, "I'm smoking the cheapest, but deadliest smokes in the galaxy. I'll be cool."

You tell yourself you don't care, that you're just killing time but you still ask. "So Rex Splode." You'd never met the guy but there was news here and there. People he saved said he was a douche, reckless, almost got them killed while saving them.

"We slummed it together awhile." He blew smoke past your shoulder to the ceiling. "Roommates while my parents were figuring out their relationship shit. Cuz like, Dad sprung all that crazy alien-invasion shit on mom and she was like 'what the fuck?' And who would want to live with those assholes anyway? Like rabbits those two, then they'd get on my ass for bein' loud. So, Rex 'n I got ourselves this piece 'a shit place in Queens. Roaches all over the place, you should'a seen it." He talked plenty but not normally this much, not so openly. Whatever hundred percent pure Loethicainian root was chilled him the hell out.

"I lived in New York," you crack the bottle, "I know." You knock your head back. Feel the sour syrup slide cross your tongue. Your body goes slack, like all your problems have been solved when it hits your throat. You flop onto the cot beside him.

"Crazy how I never met you." He says, and you can feel his eyes on you. "And everyone else but that one dude is all over you. Makes me wonder."

You tilt the bottle forward, cut yourself off before you really wanted to. High soon to go feather-light in your dome. "If you're gonna get all misty-eyed on me I'm fucking off."

"'M not." He says, "Just wonder how it didn't happen." He keeps out the part he'd been wondering about lately. That maybe, if he'd had you, things wouldn't have gotten so messy. Rex wouldn't be dead. That Eve bitch wouldn't be alive with the resistance. His Dad would've never called the Viltrum Empire to Earth. Things would've been normal and he could've lived his life doing fuck-all-bullshit till he died in a million years. Dad made sure things didn't dice out that way.

He could hardly see how you'd change a thing. Why you and Mark Grayson seemed to be so inter-dimensionally intertwined. Was it just cuz he was biologically wired to think your ass was nice?

"Tell me about your Rex." He said instead.

You did, as much as you remembered from the papers. You mostly avoided supes, bad for business if you were caught. Worse for you if they wound up being psychic and didn't listen. Tracksuit listened aptly, smoking the cigarette down to the filter.

The high began to wax. Your brain felt fat in your head, skull gone, cheeks like jelly, everything easy. You'd missed being high. Angsted that the only reason you were was because of Mark. Always because of Mark.

You're looking down at Tracksuit, elbow on knee when you say, "I really hate him, you know."

"The other me?"

"Yeah." You can't get over how good he looks with a septum, even though you can't see his whole face. You wonder if there are any more piercings, any scars to further differentiate him. "Yeah, that dickhead." The words spill out, stupid, slow. "Ruined my life, that..." What's the word? "Dickhead." Yeah, exactly.

Tracksuit flicked ashes onto the ground and dusted them away. Gray would notice later anyway. He couldn't care, these details were juicy. "What'd he do?"

"He-" You look up to the porthole. Watch sand specs idly floating in the sun. Then you are there in the sunbeam. Naked, glowing, floating.

You fall hard next to Tracksuit. He jumps up, watching you twitch. "Shit!" He'd forgotten you'd taken a hit of his cigarette. That you probably had minutes left to live at best. "Shit! Hey!" He shakes your shoulders but your eyes, rolled back to your skull, don't fix. You are stiff, then twitching, stiff, then twitching.

Then you're upright like a bolt cracking your skull against his, "What?"

He is unaffected, head like a cinder block. "I thought you were like, seizing."

"Me too." You rub your pulsing forehead, the only part of your head you could feel.

His breathing, that he hadn't even realized he'd been holding, hitched, began to even. "Scarred the piss outta me."

"Me too."

"Sure you're not still seizing or whatever?"

Your muscles contract tight, tighter, then let go. "Think I'm just..." Your fingers find your eyes, push into the lids. Thinking slow. "I'm just stressed and that Loethicainian shit is making me tic." Better than being dead.

"I mean yeah, you almost starved to death and now you've got like," he counts on his fingers, "seven super crazy boyfriends. No, six, and husband guy."

"I'm not dating a guy who killed a different version of me in literally any timeline." You looked around for any broken hearted faces but find none.

"I don't think all of 'em did." He says.

"A concerning amount of them have."

His arms go out to his sides, defensive, "We've all killed people. It's not that big a deal. You're still alive."

"Not my Mark." You leave out the 'not on purpose' part. The Chicago disaster part. "He didn't kill people." You don't know why you feel the need to go to bat for him.

"Good for him I guess, but he's a giant pussy."

Your lips thin, defense came up your throat just to be swallowed because Tracksuit was right. "His girlfriend got hurt when you guys came," you start, unable to look at him and his stupid Mark face, "he wouldn't leave her. She was unconscious and probably would've told him to go help, but he wouldn't. Refused to fight you guys. I know he could've taken more of you out but he just-" You shrug, hands slapping against you thighs, "He was just a giant pussy."

You lick at the codeine bottle edge just for the taste. You recap it before you lapse into shotgunning the whole thing and dying on the cave floor.

"Wow. That's insane." Tracksuit didn't care much for humanity or anyone in his life these days, but he couldn't imagine not fighting. Deciding one person was worth the effort to ignore everything else.

"Right?" You felt vindicated. You needed him to know, "I've killed more people on purpose than he has. He won't even kill people that he knows will bust outta prison. Just, lets 'em go and-" You laughed, shaking your head, like it was no big deal, like your sad, angry little life didn't revolve around him. Who cares about Mark when you're getting high with a different Mark? Mark would've never touched a cigarette let alone shotgun codeine just to try it.

"He broke up with me." Words come out in a hot puke spray. Tracksuit's head snaps to you. Surprised you'd share anything about yourself with him of all people- seemed like you only shared to hurt the others' feelings. "It ruined my life."

He's quiet a moment before saying, "Dick that good?"

"No. I just-" Your fingers press to your eyes, head light, spinning. You knew you shouldn't tell anybody but keeping it in felt so bad. And you just wanted to feel good again, enjoy the high the same way you enjoyed Omni's fingers. Purge. "I did something for us, and it went so bad, and I just- God. He didn't want me or the baggage I came with." You felt like you were about to cry so you unscrewed the codeine for one more sip. Wouldn't kick in for awhile but you couldn't stand feeling like this.

"I'm not a snitch if you wanna spill." He offered. You accepted. Reluctantly at first, voice low so if anyone came back they wouldn't overhear. It was bad enough telling Mark Grayson how Mark Grayson ruined your life. It'd be worse if the Mark Grayson who murdered you and was still very much in love with you, overheard. They'd never let you live it down and you'd really end up killing them all, then you'd starve to death out here.

By the end, you were so high you didn't care that a few tears slipped here and there. You couldn't care much for anything at all, but at least Tracksuit was good company.

"That's majorly fucked up." He'd said when you finished. Among much more colorful commentary during your story. Calling you stupid for being head over heels for the first guy you fucked. For not finishing school. For falling for him of all people. "But, hey, we ever get back to that shithole? I'll help you whoop his pussy ass." It was the good nurtured chiding old friends did, that kind strangers do when they get high together. You knew it didn't mean anything, and you would never get to go home, but you smiled.

"I'll introduce you to Rex." You say because you don't know Rex is dead. Tracksuit doesn't either. The thought is nice, as it is impossible.

"How's that high treating you?" You ask.

"Got nothin'." Tracksuit fidgets with his pocket, thinks of pulling out another cigarette but decides against it. "Pretty sure most Earth shit won't do anythin' to me so what's the harm in tryin'? You?"

"I think." You don't think, lost a moment as your body tensed and untensed, "Whatever you gave me isn't agreeing with me but it's okay." What wasn't okay was how bored you were. Always sitting around or walking or eating dead guy meat. Lame.

You want to play, be entertained. You pull out your phone and try to find some meaningless game. Tracksuit leaned over your shoulder, watching you click through apps, a smile on his face.

"You got any tunes downloaded on that thing?"

You did, and he helped you pull them up. He had no clue what any of the words were. Who was singing. But that was okay. You lay together on Gray's cot, letting the music bounce off the ceiling and trash down onto your bodies. You were almost asleep when an angel came down, a shadow in the sunbeam.

"I thought I heard something." You lifted your heavy head.

Baldie stood over the cot. Hairless brow raised at the scene. Fabric scraps in hand.

"It's not what it looks like." Tracksuit raised his hands in mock defense. On high alert but not looking like it. "We're just hanging out, man."

"Uh, I can tell?" He would've been suspect if any other variant had been laying with you. Not Tracksuit. He was stupid and inconsequential, but friendly enough.

You sat up to talk but stop. The light frames his muscle thick form like a halo's hug. Mark's expression on his face but not Mark's face, not with all the scars. He is him but so other and so beautiful like this and the music is so nice and you are absolutely fucking blasted.

Your body tenses again. "Are you okay?" Baldie asks.

You stand up shakily, body swaying slightly.

"Hey, are you alright?" His hands go to the sides of your arms to steady you but you aren't seizing, you're dancing. Terribly. You're not happy, just high, and having recently cum. You're relaxed. Listening to music you intend to enjoy because fuck the misery.

"No." You say, "But dancing is better than just laying there while the universe dies."

"Hey!" Tracksuit said from the comfort of his back.

Baldie pauses. "You're... dancing?" He was unsure. Partly thought the movement a mild seizure.

"Guess I am."

He's taken back. Four years ago, days before the fight with Dad. He had no idea what was coming. He could feel the anxiety coming off Mom in waves, it made him edgy. But he got to your apartment, floated out the window and found you dancing with a hungry dog you'd found in the street six months ago. Skin and bones now muscle and smooth fur. You held its front paws, going back and forth in little steps while the dog's tail wagged. The other rescues crowded around your ankles.

He landed next to you with a smile. Problems off in the wind. You traded paws for his hands and you dance together slow in the studio apartment kitchenette to the same music you played now.

He smiles, nostalgic for a past you didn't know, and takes your limp hand. Opens it gently with the press of a thumb. You let it happen, staring stupidly as his marred hand slipped into yours. He pulls you in, hand set at the small of your back. Then leads you to insanely unfitting music in a waltz he could barely remember the bones of. It was more like spinning in circles while holding your bodies together but you couldn't tell. You were high and in a sun beam and he was smiling at you and the music was so nice.

Tracksuit watches. Thinking good for you, get some more dick. And then thinking, Jesus I'm gonna have to run interference for this horny bitch till we all die out here.

You're across the room now. Stepping on Baldie's feet because you're so high you can't coordinate your movements well. He thinks you're still half asleep and teases you. You laugh at something Baldie says, it's quick and you immediately try to hide the joy, but Baldie hears it and glows. Because for once, the laugh wasn't a nasty sound, but genuine.

"Hey." Maskless is knelt beside Tracksuit's head, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. "Walk with me a sec."

"Uh? Sure." He sat up.

Maskless led him out of the cave, into the desert sun and miles away while you danced on. He landed in a skid, turning hot on Tracksuit when he came down.

"You need to back off." He says.

Tracksuit paused his landing trot, "What?"

"Those guys ruined their lives for the chance to see her again. Don't get any stupid ideas that'll cost you." His finger found home in Tracksuit's chest. Honestly, Maskless didn't give two shits who you liked and didn't. He cared about keeping the peace. He cared about how he'd feel if he had William here and some douche who didn't know him was drooling to get in his pants. It was one thing for the other guys to want their ex, a whole insult for him not to even know you in his world. He wouldn't take sides, wouldn't tattle, but he'd watch and make sure Tracksuit's tracksuit stayed on for the good of the camp.

"Whoa! You've got the wrong idea." He says it, but it's not entirely true. Tracksuit had been starting to appreciate your appearance a tad more these last few days. You were a whole helluva lot nicer when you were high and not starving to death. You were also probably a decent fuck and he really needed to cum, but that wasn't here nor there. "We're on the same side here. I'm not gonna do nothin' stupid just cuz she's hot, man."

That was as earnest as Tracksuit got, but to Maskless it sounded like fuck boy bullshit. "You're going to get yourself and her killed if you keep acting all buddy-buddy. You can't lay on the same cot as her and ogle, they're not stupid."

"Dude, were you watching us? That's super fuckin' creepy!"

Maskless's jaw hardened. "I wouldn't be surprised if another one of us was watching too. You weren't subtle. I didn't watch for very long, but it was long enough to see you staring at her ass."

Tracksuit wasn't an unreasonable man, but a shortsighted one. A man who thought fists would tell the truth. "Then that's long enough to see I didn't tap it!" A fist was aimed straight for Maskless's chin. Sent him into the air. He spun, stopped the spiral a hundred feet up, face hard. Absolutely sure Tracksuit had a thing for you and absolutely sure he needed to kick common sense right up his ass.

***

The music died with your phone. After days of being used for flashlight navigation, it was bound to die. But did it really have to die at the best part of the song? You could mope but you didn't. Sleepily happy as Baldie guided you round and round.

Phantom watched from the dark. He'd picked up heat signatures from Maskless's body on the outskirts of the cave minutes ago. Knew he'd likely interfere somehow, Maskless wasn't stupid. He knew any blooming romances were a danger. Maskless should've broken you and Baldie up but instead he took Tracksuit outside. Allowed this to continue.

Phantom tells himself it's fine. You are happy. With someone else who is him, but not him.

He tries telling himself Baldie is a temporary creature of comfort. Like Omni clearly had been to you last night. None of this meant a thing.

***

"Hey." Behind him. Lensless turned. Lost again a few minutes into exploring these stupid caves. Maskless had drawn him a mini map but Lensless was never one for directionality.

Scars was there, cloaked in the dark. Wearing that same old smile.

"Hi?" Lensless was perfectly friendly back, but his body was tense. Come on, a lone meeting in the dark was a prime murder locale. He'd done it himself enough times to know.

"I think we can help each other get what we want." Scars didn't have to say it was about (Y/n). He was just as obsessed with you, the new you, as Lensless was. That was why he'd gotten so lost in the first place, he just couldn't stop thinking about you using your powers on him.

Lensless was the perfect partner for the job. Slower than Scars in every aspect. Feared and discomforting in your eyes. And he wanted you to use your powers just as much as Scars did.

***

You were floating on a euphoric cloud because you were dancing with Mark Grayson (and peaking on a codeine high). He smiles down at you, holding you. Dancing with you like he did when he came to your place after homecoming. You had been on the stoop crying with the night sky overhead, trying to keep the tears off your thrifted outfit. He'd missed the whole thing and you were majorly pissed, but he danced with you right there on the apartment stoop in his wrinkled suit. Apologies whispered into your ear, compliments as his hands ran over the clothes you'd picked for him.

His excuse was terrible, pissed you off more, but you ended up forgiving him. You always ended up forgiving him. He was your first serious boyfriend, how could you not? You took him inside. Things escalated. You didn't feel different the next morning, though you told yourself they did. That being each other's firsts meant you'd be together forever.

And now, five years down the line, you were in the same man's arms, but not really. Having just spilled your guts to also the same guy because the other guys who were also the same guy couldn't be trusted with that information. You were too high to think about it. That's what you liked about being high. Not forgetting things, but not quite being smart enough to remember.

You don't know what does it. The sun shining through his black lenses, letting you see a sliver of eye through the material. Soft, drooped with scarring but looking at you so sweetly. Or was it the gentle touch you hadn't felt in so long? Calming and grounding, but not wanting, content with the moment. His lips, twisted as they were with old wounds, smiling for you, of all the rotten people in the world- for you.

You kiss him without thought. Standing on your toes to get the angle right. His lips are opened, a question on the tongue that is soon forgotten. When he kisses back it's tentative, hesitant. Close mouthed and chaste. He wouldn't let himself taste too much of you. He knows he'll go mad if he doses on too much of your sweet belladonna. But you smile, kiss him again, and he can't resist pulling you closer.

Four years since he'd kissed you. The last one a quick goodbye peck, excited for a date the next day. He never got to see you again. Not the you he knew. You were warped and scarred compared to her, a mirror held up to himself. You were and weren't her. You understood him.

He let himself be poisoned with a kiss. Lips parting to let in your tongue.

***

Hearing you tell Tracksuit about your Mark stung. Phantom wished you could've confined in him, but he understood. He wasn't a big talker. You needed someone to bounce off of. He could do that. He just preferred it to be just you and him when he did so. But no opportunities shone through, someone was always around. Listening and watching.

But that was a bee sting compared to the gutting that was you kissing that marred thing with his name. It was a good thing, he told himself as he watched, you were still attracted to Mark Grayson as a concept. That's all this was, a proof of concept. But you just kept going and going and going. Kissing and kissing after obviously fucking Omni last night. Stabbing him in the heart as many times as you pleased. Did you even know how this made him feel?

Fine. It was fine, really. He had to think as he took deep breaths through his nose.

It was fine because Baldie couldn't be in the caves longer than a few hours without growing agitated. He kept saying he heard things but Phantom's enhanced suit didn't catch them. Baldie was cracking up. Baldie was clearly your favorite and had to go. Which was fine, because Phantom knew just where to put him.

***

He pulled away, flushed. "I'm sorry." He said, though he doesn't let you go. "Is this okay?"

You'd had a taste for blood. Were in for more, voice low and wanting "More than okay."

He leans back in and stops himself. He knew you were acting strange from the get go, but let himself ignore it because you seemed happy and that's all he wanted. He saw it now, your constricted pupils, they way you relied on him to hold your weight. He had thought you were finally trusting him but he was wrong. "Are you-?"

"High?" You finish for him. "A little." It's a lie.

He feels the kiss was a lie. Illegitimate. He wanted you plenty but not out of your head. He wanted you steady and sure. Something to even out the roaring between his ears. His touch fell away. Your body followed after him but he avoids your advance.

"I shouldn't." He knows but seeing you chase after him, eyes searching and lips parted, made him want you more. Which means he really, really shouldn't. "I'm sorry I didn't notice I-"

His teeth clack together when the fists come down on the back of his head. Body hammered feet down into the rock. You don't get to see it, already hundreds of feet above the porthole. Held by the middle where your body went slack against the arms caging you in. The pressing g-force ceased. You were far above the horizon. Above where anyone could hear you scream.

You can see his legs, coated black, going into blue boots. Feel his body pressed to your back, grip tight around your middle. Fingerless gloved hands raking across the bare skin between your tank top and pants.

"Hey," Lensless says against your ear.

"Lan-" His hand didn't just press to your lips, no, he forced his fingers into your mouth. Dusty skin lathed across your tongue, forced to the back of your throat where you gagged, much to his enjoyment.

"Much as I want you to, we're not doing that. Not yet."

He uses his hand in your mouth to puppeteer your neck. Makes you watch the fight below as it erupts into the desert. Baldie is pissed, but smart enough to know anymore underground thrashing could collapse the cave system- kill you all without access to water.

Scars is a yellowjacket blaze under the afternoon sun. Back for a surprise round two with the added stressor of you being held hostage in the sky. Baldie's distracted, keeps trying to pull from Scars to get to you and Lensless, but that's what Scars had been betting on. What they'd both been betting on.

Lensless doesn't let you go as he drops like an anvil directly into Baldie's flight path. His heels crack something in Baldie's back while Scars fist nearly punches a hole in his belly. When the impact is done, Baldie falls to the sand. Shirt torn, bruises already blooming under his skin. Blood pooling out the side of his mouth where some of his teeth had been knocked loose.

You screamed against Lensless's hand. Thrash in his hold as he climbs higher in the sky. Followed by Scars sporting a fully busted lens and a purple shiner. They matched in eyelessness, cruelty, and how much you wanted to kill them.

Lensless propped his head on your shoulder, observing your fit hopefully. "Are you gonna cry?"

Scars laughs but says, "Your little boyfriend will be fine." That gets your attention on him. So full of hatred and intent to kill. Just like his (Y/n) before it drained out between his legs. He doesn't know if things will end the same and that's why he's here with Lensless. To change you, make you stronger by sheer force. "Just couldn't have him interrupting. He wouldn't get it."

You bite Lensless's fingers hard as your jaw would allow, a growl vibrating through your body.

"So weak," Lensless says but he's shivering in delight at the attempt. "But you should quit while you're ahead. If I get too excited, I think I'll crush you." He laughs at the idea. You wet and red and all over him, makes his cock twitch.

Much as you hate listening, you do. "Good job." Lensless bumps the top of his head against your jaw. "I knew you'd listen."

"Don't praise her." Scars victorious smile melts as he stares you down. "You've been bad."

You'd ask him what he meant if you weren't murderous and gagged.

"You don't seem to get it. Those other guys, they're weak, useless. Couldn't take a bomb to the head like I can. They don't deserve you." He hovers closer, reaches between him and Lensless and holds up your chin. Fingers pressing hard to flesh.

Lensless pulls you back, out of his grip. A gesture that says 'it's not your turn with my toy, yet.' "Hey bud, you forget I'm also one of those guys?"

Annoyance flashed across Scars exposed eye. "You're smart enough to work with me." He leaves it at that, no promises of trust or friendship. Lensless grip tightens, makes your bones ache, but he doesn't pull you back when Scars reaches out. Thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "But you. You've been letting them pass you around. I get it, you're sad, you're lonely, you're looking to fill the void. And you can do that! You're your own person. I just need you to remember at the end of the day- you belong to me. Everytime you lend your lips or cunt out them?" His pointer and thumb squeeze your lip, pinching it plump and buzzing. "I see it. I feel it. I keep a tally of everytime you let them touch you, everytime you betray me. Do you know what that tally's at?" His head tilts, waiting, though you literally can't reply.

"Come on, answer him." Lensless jostles your rear with his knee.

Your hands, pressed to your sides by Lensless's arms, twitch. Scars notices, looks at them smiling. Up comes a single finger. Counting off your fuck with Omni or kiss with Baldie- he can't tell. Because it's your middle finger and he's laughing at you for daring to defy him.

"I'll take that as an 'I don't know'." He sighs, "Everytime that number goes up, know that I'm waiting for them to leave you alone or with someone weak. And they will because they all are. So I'll find you vulnerable and alone," he leaned in, pinching your lip so hard drool started to seep onto his gloves, "and make you understand how bad I feel when you're with them. And if you're not strong enough to take it, you die." He's close enough to bite your lip. For you to feel the heat of his stale breath. Then he removes himself from your personal space all at once. Skin-crawling touch gone.

"Ready?" Scars asked.

Lensless grins against your neck. "Oh hell yeah."

The flesh gag was gone, but so was the arm around your torso. You hurdled to the dunes, softer than your human body but you'd splat like it was concrete on impact. You can only see the sky, the men falling either side of you, looking bored with terminal velocity. You snap, "Catch me!"

They both hurdle toward you, two sets of arms under your back. Stopping the decent slowly, not too sudden. When you're finally stopped, your heart is hammering in your chest, you're still far above the ground but no longer falling. Not safe because the men you controlled were no longer held under your will. They grin down at you. Satisfied before both sets of their arms fall away again.

It's catch and release. They let you fall, scream a command with blood pouring out of your nose. They mock praise as they drag you back up high into the sky. By the third round, you've calmed enough to know what to do when Lensless catches you before Scars. You turn to him, grinning under the perpetual summer sun and say with a finger pointed at Scars, "Kill him."

You are dropped because in Lensless's head, he can't kill Scars while holding you. The logic and semantics work against you. And again you fall screaming, "Catch me, catch me!" But he's too fast, too far away in the atmosphere with a fist poised for Scar's throat.

***

Phantom watched the exchange. Let Baldie fall without help. Because he understood and agreed with what Lensless and Scars were doing. You did need to be stronger, needed to hold your own if you were to choose one of them. Work out that muscle of power because you'd let it go so slack in the desert.

He knew it'd happen sooner or later. You forcing them to attack each other, forgetting that morality and gravity don't mix. Scars tries to save you, he didn't want you to die even though he acted like it. Scars wanted you to suffer the slow creep of his corruption and not wilt, but thrive under it. Phantom understood this, didn't fault him for it. They were all creatures of some desire.

Scars could not dodge around Lensless long enough to catch you. Your hold had been getting better once you'd started eating again. There was no telling how long Lensless would attack. Scars was ruthless, trying to kill him but just couldn't. The fact was, Lensless was the faster of the two.

When you neared the ground, Phantom was there. Shot out of the porthole as a silent shadow, slowing you down then bringing you to a stop. Your unconscious body limp in his arms, stirring after a few seconds, as your body figured out it was still alive and not falling.

You look up at him, shaking, nose bleeding, sun in your eyes. So beautiful, weak, alive. Your hand clinging to his chest enough to bandage the wounds you'd left him.

***

They lay beside one another in the sand. Skin burst open by sheer force. Sun beating down on their bodies.

"You get it now, asshole?" Tracksuit tried not to sound winded, but he was. That gay little fucker could move.

There was no reply. Tracksuit heaved up onto his elbows, thinking the other dead and more jerky was on the way.

A few of his ribs were bruised but he breathed on. "You could've just talked to me instead of hitting me." Maskless said.

"I tried that, 'member?" Tracksuit flopped back into the sand.

"Yeah, well, you're not very good with words." Maskless said with no bite.

Tracksuit slapped him across the chest, earning a groan. "Nah, but I'm pretty good with a fist."

Maskless smacked the hand away. "Don't flatter yourself." He sat up, sand falling off his shoulders. Insides pounding. "We should get back. If the others see them together, they'll lose it."

Tracksuit ran a hand through his hair. All the gel he'd slopped through it before coming to your Earth gone clumpy and stale. "I just don't get it, man. Why can't they leave her alone? They're pushing her away by being freaks."

"Because we're us." Maskless stood, "We can't leave these things alone. You wanted something bad enough to make a deal with Angstrom Levy, so you're no different from the rest of us."

Tracksuit chuffed because the guy had a point. "I can. She's just some human."

"Would you be saying that if she was Rex Sloan?"

That name from that mouth made Tracksuit go stiff. "You creepy little fucker."

"I know if she were William, I'd be acting just as crazy." Out came Maskless's hand, offered with no smile. "If not more than some of them are."

Tracksuit considers slapping the offer away but takes the hand, pulling himself up off an aching tailbone. "I ain't you know, man."

"I know," Maskless says, though he doesn't believe it. He and Rex had a thing years back before it all went bad. There was bound to be another one of him who had the hots for that idiot. Still, he tacked on, "I see how you look at her, I get the picture."

"No, no, I mean I don't..." Tracksuit let go of his hand soon as possible.

Maskless held himself with a seriousness he didn't feel. He told himself the same thing a long, long time ago. "You'll figure it out." He hovered above the sand, "We going or what?"

***

The fireside is chaos.

You are drained dry of power and want to kill despite how your body is shaking from the adrenaline and codeine come down. Baldie wants them dead more than you do. Omni more than he. Omni held you when he heard, hand cradling your head as you tried not to lean into it. You were almost glad for the distraction Scars and Lensless brought to the group, because he was being obvious, and if someone asked you were sure he wouldn't deny it.

Tracksuit watched on, achy all over. Back to treating your personal drama like his TV after a long day. Maskless nearby considers swiping one of Tracksuit's cigarettes. Sneaking out and smoking while this fizzled out, but he had to stay. Make sure if the peace snapped that the cave didn't collapse.

Scars and Lensless revel in the jeering and suggestions of exile from Gray. The threats of death from Omni. Regrettably, they lived through your control. Scars suit was frayed, cape torn at all the edges but he was fine. Lensless's chest was exposed, skin gone purple with bruising.

After Phantom caught you, the two had played it relatively smart. Avoiding camp until nightfall, where Baldie told everyone what they'd done while licking his wounds. Only when he was proclaiming his hate for the yellowjacket and his minion did they make an entrance. Leading to the current hellscape of things.

Despite all the talk, it was Mohawk who was the first to lunge for Scars, waiting for the fight with open arms. Phantom jumped between them, just barely able to keep them off each other.

"Stop." He says.

"He could've fucking killed her." Spit flies off Mohawk's lip onto his mask.

"Please, she was fine. Aren't you, sweet thing?" The second Scars eyes land on you, Mohawk reaches around Phantom and cracks Scars in the temple. Scars cackles as he hits the ground. "You'll thank me for it later." Mohawk lunges.

Phantom grabs his ankle and throws Mohawk across the room. "Listen to me."

Listen, Mohawk does not. He flies for Scars. "I'm tired of your face!"

"We have the same face!"

The screech tears through the room. Bounces off the walls. Reverberates through your bones. Mohawk's flight waivers, he crashes in a heap, clutching his ears. The rest of them are in similar positions, groaning, hands on head.

Phantom does not apologize, he is not sorry. "I was hoping you wouldn't make me use this." He says cool through the modulator. During the second day of the ravaging of Earth he'd caught out one of the re-animen. Taken the speaker from its chest, a tiny thing that he hid in the pockets of his utility belt. Down to the core, he wanted to curl into a ball and scream, but the noise-canceling tech in his suit's ears helped curb the urge. It also helped that he knew it was coming, that he controlled the noise.

"Turn it off!" Mohawk snaps.

"Not until you listen." He says, louder, more confident than he'd felt in his entire life. Mohawk does not protest again. "You can exile them, kill them even, but it will not fix the problem. We all want her to ourselves, but we can't fracture into factions, We'll just end up killing each other and her. The best thing for her, for all of us, is to work together."

"Fuck that." Mohawk spat, the only one able to speak over the noise.

"You don't have to like it, but if you don't want her to die in the crossfire, you'll do it." Phantom is right. Feels the truth sink into the bones of everyone around him. Yet he leaves the frequency playing, "You don't want her to die again, do you?"

Mohawk doesn't. None of them do.

He turns it off when he senses no more fight in the room. He waits for Mohawk to lunge at Scars. He thinks about it, Phantom can see it in his spring-loaded muscles but he doesn't.

Scars rises to his feet, hiding the stagger Mohawk punched into him. "We'll be back." He says it as he floats towards the exit, "Remeber, I keep a tally." His eyes are on you.

Lensless went to follow, their partnership officially cemented, "See you guys this time tomorrow, cool?"

They were gone. You took a shuddering breath.

Baldie shot up to follow them. But stopped when you said, "Wait."

"Don't you want them to die for what they did to you?" He tries to keep the anger out of his voice, the accusation he wants to level at you, at the others for letting this continue.

Your head was pounding. You were well into come down. Regretting and not regretting the dancing from earlier that killed your only flashlight. Regretting and not regretting the kiss. "I do, but if anyone's killing them, I am."

Baldie shifted uncomfortably. He didn't know if you could.

"I-" His lip twisted. How could you want those two alive even a second longer? Why? Did you favor them? Like the harassment? Is that what he should be doing instead of being soft and kind? Would you like him without drugs then? The anger chewing at his insides is surprising and sharp.

He shot into the caves to angst alone in the quiet, familiar enclosure of darkness. Even though he knew it'd make him worse.

You try to rise to your feet before falling back down wobbly. Head falling to your hands. Gray quietly brings the basin of freshly boiled water to your side for you to drink. He and Omni hover within reach but say nothing.

Phantom disappeared into the caves behind Baldie not long after. Nobody noticed. All so fretful over you, minds racing with options. But if they really cared, they'd be doing what he was doing. Approaching Baldie from behind.

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occasionalsnippets · 5 months ago

Note

hello author!

I’m a totally different, definitely not the anon who sent the previous post!

So…out of curiosity…if fd reader was filling in for robin ( I assume this is pre- red robin-or would reader act as a double for red as well?)

and they got sucked into another universe…

what kind of shenanigans would occur?

also while I am definitely not the previous anon, I’d like to mention that the fd series has a new film coming out next year it’s a little different!

A/n: sorry kinda messy because I got my wisdom teeth removed

Taglist: @dragondevinity, @lonely-star2044, @sheep-from-rad, @ilxandra, @thethingwiththefeathers, @star-wars-lycanwing-bat, @sackofsadstuff, @zonked-times, @paastaboi, @venfia, @fantasy-angelo, @linaisadream

---

Getting dropped through a portal and landing in the middle of a fight isn’t great. Fortunately, you're dressed for the occasion since you’re filling in as Robin. Unfortunately, your comms are dead. Fully dead. Dead enough that there isn't even a trace of static to be heard.

It could have been worse, you think as you help Nightwing (alternate universe? Probably alternate universe Nightwing, he doesn't seem to recognize you) clear out a group of goons. At least you're in Gotham and at least you didn't land directly in the path of the batmobile while someone was driving it or something.

Nightwing is wary of you and your supposed help, at least, until you get a moment a tell him the code for alternate universe situations because of course, there’s a code for everything.

(Code for time travel, code for alternate universes, code specifically for family, etc, etc. You leave all those codes up to Batman to decide.)

He doesn’t totally relax, obviously, but he’s willing to take down all the goons before focusing on you.

You're clearly bat-trained, have bat-gear and would look like a carbon copy of Robin if Tim was currently Robin and not Damian. It isn't difficult to believe you are a dimension traveller (you aren't the first and likely won't be the last either), especially with the obvious portal you hopped out of.

And well, things should be okay if you’ve got the family code tagged along with the standard code, right?

Either way, you and Nightwing end up going to the batcave. There’s some back and forth banter, you ask about who’s around and find out that it’s basically everyone you remember from the comics in their own role. Their universe is a bit ahead of yours it seems.

“D’s not allowed to be Robin until he’s more than 4 apples tall,” you tell Nightwing. By 4 apples tall, you mean 4 apples on the height chart you bought to mark Damian’s growth.

"4 apples tall," he mouths, delighted.

Dick had reacted the same way when you put the chart up. Damian had been livid.

The batcave is every bit as dark and cave-y as you remember it to be. Batman is there. So is Red Robin. And Spoiler. It's still early in the night so everyone else is probably still doing patrol.

Being interrogated (kind of) is interesting. It would be more effective if you hadn't seen similar songs and dances hundreds of times. Plus, Batman isn't being too harsh about it. It might be because you're Robin, because you're family.

The edges of your domino mask are peeling off. It always feels like you never put enough glue.

Well, you might as well reveal yourself. With the retrieval of the glue solvent, removal of the mask and a quick run of your hand through your hair, you could consider yourself off duty.

“Are you a girl???”

“Congrats on your top surgery.”

“Congrats on your bottom surgery.”

Hilarious. You laugh softly and ask, “Do you guys think I’m Tim?”

Something discordant ripples through everyone. You thought it was obvious you weren't Tim but well... You smile and hide your teeth.

"I'm (Y/n) Drake, nice to meet you."

You’re pretty sure that your universe will figure some way to get you back so you tell Batman that if you haven’t disappeared by the time 48 hours have passed, he should probably contact a magic user to get you back.

No one is going to bed apparently. It’s Sunday tomorrow. They’re not technically the family you know so you don’t say anything about pulling an all nighter.

There are some fascinating follow-up one-on-one conversations afterwards once they get past the "Tim's older sibling who doesn't exist".

Dick mentions it’s a bit odd to see you as Robin. You’re technically the oldest person to have ever been Robin as everyone grew out of it (died in it, got fired, etc) and got their own costume before they hit 18.

You point out it's not really your costume and that you only really fill in when you have to. He tells you you're still part of the legacy. You're still Robin. You... don't really know what to say to that.

When he asks you how you got involved, you shrug and say you just followed Tim. "He's my brother. What was I supposed to do? Leave him?"

Anyways, interesting conversations between two people who have been eldest daughter syndrome-d. Maybe things are better in your universe where you're there to ease the emotional load of the family but it shouldn't have been your responsibility. It shouldn't have been Dick's either.

You end up telling Jason that the Joker is dead in your universe. More specifically, that he "had gone missing a bit after Red Hood arrived in Gotham". You don't say exactly how it happened but he can probably infer that you had something to do with it.

The two of you probably bond a bit over your paper thin morals. After all, when you aren't playing at being Robin, you don't have to follow Bruce's moral code either.

Bruce is okay. The one here isn't horrendously terrible or anything but there were probably more bumps along the way. You straight up tell him to start seeing a therapist. His nest of birdies are his children first before they are his vigilante partners. He should make that clear before he makes another blunder, fails to apologize, and has to try to mend his relationships again.

He asks if you’re one of his children. You laugh until your ribs hurt.

Damian asks why you (and your Tim) are still Robin. You’re reasonably confused. Dick had informed him that your Damian is with the Waynes already yet has not been made Robin.

You aren’t exactly aware of how this Damian (or comic Damian for that matter) became Robin but you just tell him, “There’s no rush to pass on the mantle. Besides, we’re a couple years behind you guys.”

"You coddle him." "He's literally like, 9."

He'll figure it out someday once he gets past the being raising in an assassin cult thing. You ask what pets he has to derail him.

Things are easier with Cass, as they always have been. She takes one look at you and definitively declares "Family". You smile, ruffle her hair, the same as you would with your Cass, and she drags you away to talk to Steph.

Steph cracks a joke about your presence evening out the gender ratio in the household. She's also on the phone with Barbara so you say a quick hi before being swept into the next conversation.

You and Tim. Tim and you.

It’s been years since Jack and Janet Drake have died. Years upon years since Tim was a little boy waiting by the phone for his parents to call and tell him they’re coming home. He thinks some part of him still longs for them, despite it all.

And now, there is you. His sibling who never existed.

You remind him of his mother, of Janet. You’re as sharp as he remembers her being but you’re so terribly warm and patient and casually affectionate in ways he still isn't used to. Perhaps you're how Janet would've been like if she had loved him more.

You and Tim probably have the most to talk about out of everyone, especially about the early days from before he became Robin. Throughout it, he finds out just how much you've involved yourself in the other Tim's life. There's something sad in your expression when the two of you talk.

He hasn't needed someone to protect or raise him for a very long time but still, it must have been nice to have you, to have someone to trust and love him unconditionally.

For what it's worth, you tell him you're proud of him. Even if you don't exist in this universe, he's still your itty bitty tiny little brother.

Something bubbles in his chest. He thinks it might just be jealousy for the version of him that has your unconditional love. The version that has everything that you could give him.

Alfred brings down food for you to eat. Despite the fact that you don't belong, he insists on calling you "Master (Y/n)". Some things never change you suppose.

Everyone notes that it's very very strange to see you be so familiar with everyone when none of them know you. It's like they're all stumbling over a step in their life, fumbling in their interactions with you, uncertain about what to do.

Duke wanders into the Batcave in the morning and finds you at the batcomputer, still wearing your Robin costume. You get one look at him and go, "Ah they didn't tell you about me did they."

You give him a quick rundown ("I'm from an alternate universe, yeah I showed up last night, I'm Tim's older sibling, I'm only a placeholder Robin, no I don't really know you but I think I've seen you around in my universe before") before he leaves for day-patrol.

He's cool. You'll keep an eye out for him when you get back.

True to your expectation, less than a day after your arrival, a portal opens up beside you. Everyone's in the batcave and are able to see you off as Tim (your Tim) reaches out to bring you home.

You're wrapped up in hugs immediately upon return. So clingy, you think as you say, "I'm home."

Tim, who's buried by your side, mumbles, "Welcome home."

As for you filling in as Red Robin later on, it might be better to discuss it chronologically with Batman getting lost in the timestream and the no good very bad follow up conversation about who should wear the cowl that somehow ends up with you filling in as Nightwing.

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mochinomnoms · 8 months ago

Note

I like to think that Jade is clueless about surface romance, so imagine Jade watching Romcons to get a glimpse of how humans courtship each other, and now he's daydreaming about experiencing all of the Romcon cliches with Yuu.

I'm talking about: Kissing in the rain, "There's only one bed" or "we are all snowed up in a tiny cabin", waking up in the morning tangled together, tucking a strand of hair behind their ear and so on.

Asf#£^&@#%Asda I've watched too many Romcons.

Realistically, Jade would do enough research to know that all those romcom clichés are just that, clichés or tropes only for entertainment and rarely something that occurs in real life. He probably thinks they're a little ridiculous even, do humans really think these things are romantic? They're so...dumb!

BUT I like to think there's another part of him that sorta realizes the appeal once he's in love. Suddenly, the idea of 'there's only one bed' isn't so dumb and easily fixed when it's with you! Falling asleep at opposite ends of the bed, only to awake tangled in each other's arms? Oh! What bliss!

A fake dating? Not so funny now, he can't imagine the agony of pretending that his feelings are fake! Chasing after you in the rain just to steal a kiss? Well, it's no dazzling, bioluminescent cave under the sea, but it works.

These romcoms seem quite popular with humans, maybe you like them too? Perhaps he should act out some scenarios with you, just for fun. Yes, nothing more, no deeper reasoning…just experimentation…he's just curious is all!

#mochi asks #twst #twisted wonderland #jade leech #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #one 'fake' marriage 10 years later and youre still trying to figure out if jade is still experiementing or not #jade is living his best life

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kyeomofhearts · 2 years ago

Text

Again & Again | C.SC

+ summary: you caved in and fucked your best friend, but it was only a one-time thing… right?

+ pairing: scoups x fem!reader

+ word count: 4k

+ content: fwb!, chubby reader (love ya'll), friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, mutual pining, pussy drunk cheol, size kink, angst, fluff.

+ WARNINGS: smut, dom!seungcheol, sub!reader, rough sex, praise? pls lmk if I missed anything

🫧 AHHHHH this is my first fic on here! I tried proofreading it but I can only read so much :') I hope the people that see this, enjoy!

You wished you had an excuse for last night’s events, you really did, because how are you supposed to tell your best friend of ten years that you didn’t want to fuck him again?

Okay, that sounds harsh… but it’s the truth!

It’s not like he was a bad fuck either because it was quite the opposite. The man was incredible in bed, plain and simple. But you know how these things go, someone proposes the idea of friends with benefits, and then boom! Someone ends up falling for the other and now the whole dynamic is ruined. And you knew that you would be the one that fell for him.

There's no denying that there was always something more with Seungcheol, he was just different from your other friends. Your 'reasoning' was that you two had known each other for so long that you naturally saw him differently. This was something you tried to push time and time again. And for the most part, you were pretty successful in hiding your attraction towards him... except for last night.

Which leads us to our dreaded present. You have come to terms that the deed has been done (well done if you might say so yourself). And you most definitely cannot deny that yesterday’s events occurred because then you would be lying to yourself and Seungcheol-

“Hello? Are you even listening to me y/n?”

Shit.

“Hm? Sorry, what were you saying?”

Cheol scoffed and playfully flicked your forehead. He turned his whole body towards you, “I was saying that we should do this again. I really enjoyed last night so maybe we could make this a regular thing… if you wanted to that is.”

At least you knew he enjoyed last night, seeing how he wants more. But what if that's all he wants?

It’s now or never. You have to tell Cheol that it was only a one-time thing.

You turned your body to face Seungcheol and locked eyes with him. Even though you’ve seen his freshly woken up face countless times , it still brought butterflies to your stomach every time he looked at you. Especially his eyes, they somehow become even more droopier in the mornings. How could you ever say no to him when he looks like a lost puppy?

No. Stay on track.

“I don't know Cheol, I'm not sure if I can do that.”

And… here we go. You immediately see worry take over his face. His eyes somehow looked even more glossier than normal. You had to clarify yourself quickly or the damage would be irreversible.

You quickly throw your hands in the air for defense. “No, no, no… it’s not like that! I swear. I just don’t want to overcomplicate things Cheol. It’s just that I know how these things go and I seriously cannot bear the thought of losing you.”

He was about to say something before your hand went to his hair, going through his soft, fluffy locks. Seungcheol’s face seemed to relax with this gesture. You wanted to keep the atmosphere light and show him that nothing was going to change between the two of you.

It stayed like that for another minute or so.

He took a deep breath. “No I get it… But, my offer still stands you know.” He ruffled your hair while saying that last part.

God his morning voice sounds so raspy. Just how you like it. And it’s so tempting to just throw all of your self restraint away and fuck him again. But you know it’s for the best, I mean, it’s not that uncommon to fuck your best friend… right? Whatever. This whole thing will pass and you guys are just going to laugh about it someday in the future.

You giggled at that thought. But going back to what Cheol said.

“No yeah, of course. You know I would never turn down an offer to fuck you again.” This was a lie of course, but you had to keep it light. Although, this did make Cheol’s ears flush a bright red, which is very uncommon to see. Laughing, you were able to roll out of bed and start getting ready for the day.

Seungcheol’s eyes followed your frame as you went about in his room, gathering all of the lost pieces of clothing that you did not care for last night.

What you didn't know was that Seungcheol felt the same exact way about you. He was just as scared as you though, which is why he never pushed for more. Scared that he would lose you if he did so. He thought that maybe last night could lead the two of you for more, he just didn't know how to approach you about it.

He tried ignoring the sinking feeling in his chest. Your response worried a part of him because he knew that last night was for sure going to change your friendship, whether he liked it or not.

"Hey, I have to go now, but I'll see you later, yeah?" You said while waiting for him to walk you out.

"Yeah, for sure."

It will all work out, he thought. It has to.

All good things eventually come to an end.

That ‘good thing’ being your resolve. One week. A total of seven days before you came crawling back to Seungcheol about that deal. Because at this point you did not care about what was going to happen next.

From: You

Hey, I know it’s late but are you home rn?

Sent at 11:42 pm

You were desperate at this point. You thought that maybe Cheol was “great” in bed because he was the only person you’d had sex with within the last six months. So naturally, you decided to hook up with a stranger from the bar, to test your theory.

Not the best idea.

When you guys got to his apartment, he was all over you, but not in a good way. It felt rushed and sloppy. What you had forgotten during your night with Cheol was that some guys really did not care about your pleasure. Because not even two minutes of making out, and the guy was already trying to stick it in! To make matters worse, the guy didn’t even know where your clit was, like come on! Overall, it was a terrible experience.

Which is why you were in your current situation. You had weighed the pros and cons of fucking Cheol on a regular basis. …And they weren’t too bad. If anything, the two of you had excellent communication so if a problem came up then you could just talk it out, no big deal.

But god did you feel pathetic. You were so quick to shut his idea down and now you’ve come crawling back to his-

From: Cheollie

Yeah what’s up?

Sent at 11:53 pm

Relax. If he says no, then he says no. Not a big deal.

From: You

Well, if you’re not busy… I was thinking about a follow up from last week?

It’s okay if you changed your mind about it! I was just curious if you were still up for it 🫣

Sent at 11:55 pm

You immediately put your phone on ringer and threw it to the couch. The thought of seeing his text bubbles in real time gave you so much anxiety. Maybe you should just take a lap around your kitchen, that always helps right?

Not even a foot away from the couch and… he was calling you?

You scurried over to your phone and accepted the call with haste.

“He-”

“I’m coming over in ten.” And then he hung up.

Wow. That was pretty dramatic, he couldn’t have said that through text? Although, you couldn’t deny just how excited you were. It certainly didn’t help that he seemed to be just as ready as you were for him.

These next minutes of waiting were going to be hell for you.

Needless to say, you were thrilled.

You figured that with the time you had, you could at least spruce yourself up.

Which is exactly what you did.

You changed out of your old pajamas and into something more presentable. By presentable you mean revealing because you really do not want to struggle to take off your clothes. Plus, you want to give Cheol a treat for being able to come out so late. So you also sprayed on that perfume he complimented you on a while back (totally not why you continued buying it). Maybe you should clean your apartment up? Seungcheol has seen worse but it never hurts you know.

You were about to go ahead and start cleaning but the doorbell rang.

Damn, he was fast.

The anticipation was eating you alive. You could not wait for what Cheol had in mind for you. Just the mere thought of him made heat rush down to your core.

Opening the door, you were met with Seungcheol. Not just his regular self though, he was in a black compression shirt with loose-fitting sweatpants. It was so simple yet so hot. You would have kept ogling until he cleared his throat.

“What made you change your mind?” He asked with a smug expression.

Ugh, if you weren’t so turned on you would definitely wipe that smile off his face… but you needed dick bad. Like really bad.

“Well I would lie to you and say that I thought it through but I’m really horny right now…”

You turned away from him to close the door.

“Well, we can always talk about it after… right? Or maybe you’ll be too fucked out to even talk.”

Now this made you turn swiftly towards him.

Which was a big mistake. His face was merely inches away from yours and you could even smell his cologne radiating off of his body. His eyes were dark, something you only saw when he would talk to girls at the club. Only this time it was directed towards you.

You went for the kill and locked your lips against his. You needed to taste him again, you were just that insatiable. His lips were so soft and plush against your own. You were always jealous of his lips, they were always somehow perfect.

Your arms slid over his shoulders to draw him closer to you. Now pressed as close as possible, your hands began to wander throughout his torso. You never truly noticed just how broad his shoulders were, never mind his chest. You wished that he never stop whatever he was doing at the gym, because clearly it was working.

As much as Seungcheol loved the attention, he felt the need to taste you again.

“Open,” he said with a low rasp.

You obliged and opened up for him, allowing him to nibble at your lower lip. He kissed you with the same amount of fervor. He raised his hand to tangle his fingers around your hair. Seungcheol’s fingers tightened their grip causing you to let out a small whimper.

Now that was a sound Cheol loved to hear, especially coming from you. He wanted to see just how loud you could get.

Carefully, Seungcheol readjusted his grip on your hair and firmly tugged on it once again. This was his way of testing the waters, since he didn’t know how rough you liked it.

When you whimpered once again, he made sure to take a mental note of that.

Things began to get increasingly heated by the second. Which is why you decided that it was (finally) time to relocate to your bedroom.

...

Once the two of you had reached the door to your bedroom, Cheol had suddenly lifted you off the ground.

Now you weren't necessarily a fan of being picked up, considering you weren't 'light' like others. Totally not traumatized from previous partners struggling to pick you up...

“Now why would you do that?" You tried to keep it cool but it was obvious that you were a little frazzled. It honestly scared you that he was able to lift you up so easily, like what was he training for at the gym?

“Just because I can,” Seungcheol said nonchalantly. His voice made you gush with wetness, it was just that deep.

After that, he gently threw you on your bed. Maybe he just wanted to show off his strength, you thought. It was still hot either way.

He slowly started stripping, starting with his shirt. Seungcheol was a big dude, and you knew that, but seeing him in all of his glory really did something to you. Though the lighting in your room was dim, the shadows did an excellent job of emphasizing just how big his chest was. He was undeniably handsome, you could see why everyone threw themselves at him...

You were staring again. Get a grip!

"Quit with the teasing and just fuck me," you were getting more desperate by the second.

This made him even more cocky, but he didn't say anything. Rather he tugged at your shorts for you to take them off. So you did, and your cunt was immediately hit by the cold air in the room.

"No underwear?" Cheol said, trying to not make his surprise evident.

You felt like being bold today, who knows what he’ll do to you if you teased him enough.

"Why bother when you were gonna take it off anyways?"

That's when he knew you were going to be the death of him. How could he ever think about being with anyone else when you were perfect for him?

"Fuck, don't say shit like that."

Seungcheol was enamored with your body and everything that you had to offer. The soft plushness of your skin made him want to break you even more. But before he broke you, he had to give you a taste of heaven.

He started off by trailing sweet kisses on your thighs. He took his time on working you up. Eventually he reached your cunt, pressing light pecks on it.

He wanted to take his time here, remembering just how sensitive you got when he ate you for the first time. His goal was to have you crying by the end of the night.

“God, I forgot how good you tasted love,” he mumbled into your pussy.

Seungcheol used his arms to hoist your legs on his shoulders. His grip on your thighs now firm and steady.

He started off light, giving you slow and gentle licks on your clit. He wanted to slowly build you up to your first release (more like an excuse to tease you).

This seemed to please you, but not for long. You could only enjoy the slow pace for so long until you started craving for more.

Fortunately, Seungcheol had been growing his hair out, making it the perfect length to tug on.

You didn’t realize how good and bad this move would be.

This for sure got him to speed up his movements. Instead of gentle licks, he switched to harsh sucking. Occasionally groaning into your pussy, which brought you delicious vibrations. He was eating you out like a starved man, he just couldn’t get enough of you.

With his consistency, it was no surprise that you already started to feel the warmth in your lower belly. It's not like it was hard to make you cum either, that is if you knew what you were doing.

Seungcheol knew this, he felt the way you were beginning to twitch and tighten your legs around his head. God did he love just how plush and warm they were. He thinks he could stay here forever if given the opportunity. He began to speed up his efforts in hopes of bringing you to your first release of the night. The more releases, the easier it gets for him to slide into your (heavenly) pussy.

And just as he was thinking about this, you came.

But Cheol wasn’t feeling nice today, he wanted to push you past your limits. So even after you came, he still kept the same pressure and speed on your now sensitive bud.

You tried to get him to slow down, or at least just give you a little break. Tugging his hair didn’t seem to work, in fact, it worsened it. He would speed up every time you tugged on his locks. You were beginning to feel the same warmth in your belly. Two minutes haven't even passed since your first orgasm!

Just a few more licks and you were spasming against Seungcheol's head again. Finally, you pushed his head away from your overly sensitive cunt, this seemed to do the trick.

"Aw, is my pretty girl already tired?" He cooed while moving his face up to yours.

You didn't reply to him. Feeling spent from your first and second orgasms for the night.

"I hope you know that this is just the beginning love, I haven't even stretched you out yet," he whispered right before diving in to give you a kiss.

You have never tasted yourself before, it was a bit salty but nothing too strange. His hands roamed over your waist, just before going up to settle on your chest.

He softly tugged at your shirt so you would let him take it off.

Now Seungcheol was aware of how you felt about your body. Having heard your frequent frustrations with being on the chubbier side. And no matter how much he reassured you that you were beautiful, you still managed to doubt yourself. He never understood that which frustrated him just as much. He just wanted to show you just how gorgeous you were in his eyes.

So while he had the chance, he was going to show you how much he loved your body. He was going to worship you. Seungcheol peppered your chest with small chaste kisses, and he continued all the way down to your boobs. His tongue passionately flickered over one of your hardened nipples, with his hand softly massaging your other breast.

While his hand was working on your hardened bud, his other hand slithered its way down to your cunt. His thumb made slow circles on your clit, while two of his fingers teased at your entrance. Fortunately, you were wet enough to slide in with little resistance. He made slow scissoring motions to open you up for him. While he wasn't necessarily trying to make you cum, he did want to make this at this pleasurable at the very least.

But you were growing needier by the second. You loved his attention to foreplay, but god did you just want him to get inside you already.

"Please, Cheol, just get inside, I'm more than ready by now." Your face was burning, never have you begged someone to fuck you.

Your plea was more than enough and he quickly stopped everything he was doing. He got out of the bed to shimmy out of his sweats and underwear. And... god was he big. You were never the best at hiding your expressions, because one look at you and Seungcheol started laughing.

"Is something wrong?" He asked with feigned concern.

"Don't tease me right now!" You huffed with slight annoyance.

He chuckled while digging in his sweats for a condom. His smile quickly dropped when he didn't feel anything in his pockets.

Now it was your turn to laugh at him.

"I forgot to bring a condom."

You knew what you were going to recommend was dumb. But since you knew Seungcheol pretty well, you trusted him.

"We... can do it without one," you said, trying to make your voice sound confident enough.

His eyes grew wide, surprised to hear that you would let him fuck you without protection.

He took a deep breath before responding. "I know I'm clean, and I've never fucked anyone without one. I just want to make sure you are completely okay about this."

"I promise." Plus you were on birth control, it was going to be fine.

That being said, Cheol got back on the bed and settled himself between your legs. He gave his cock a few pumps before he settled it near your cunt. Within a few seconds, he slowly began to push the head inside. The initial push stung a bit, but it quickly dissipated once he went further inside.

His eyes fluttered shut at your tightness alongside letting a rough groan out.

Once he was fully inside you, he stayed there for a minute, just wanting to let you adjust to his size. After a beat or so, he experimented with a gentle thrust. You whimpered at the feeling, you wanted more so you decided to clench around his cock to let him know. Seungcheol started at an easy pace, one that was able to tame your neediness. He held that pace for a minute before he quickly switched gears on you.

He started pounding into your aching cunt, lifting your legs over his shoulders. Now this was on another level, it made it easier for him to hit that one spot.

You felt yourself clamp hard around Seungcheol's cock, feeling his thick veins dragging deliciously inside you. A whine was ripped from you as a wave of pleasure shot throughout your body. His hips started snapping into you, smirking every time you desperately cried his name out.

"Fuck, I think I'm gonna cum again Cheol-"

"Not until I say so," as he continued snapping into your hips. The grip he had on you was growing rougher by the second. It was for sure going to leave a bruise in the morning.

He continued with his animalistic pace, grunts occasionally leaving his mouth. He started trailing messy kisses along your neck, sometimes focusing on specific areas. It was getting harder for you to hold your release, you could only last for so long...

"Come on love, you can cum," Seungcheol mumbled against your neck.

You didn't need to be told again, feeling your body shake against his. The sudden gush of wetness running between your legs. Quickly following your release, Seungcheol pulled out and came all over your stomach.

Part of you felt disappointed that he didn't come inside you, but you tried to push that feeling down.

Everything started feeling hazy, you didn't even feel it when he got off the bed to go to the bathroom. Just before you fell asleep Seungcheol lightly tapped your leg.

"Let me clean you up, yeah?"

You flinched once the rag made contact with your cunt, it was just so cold. But it only lasted for a minute.

You felt the bed dip once again and Seungcheol covered the two of you with your blanket. He wrapped his strong arms around your body, pulling your back flush to his chest. He buried his face into your neck and lulled the two of you to sleep.

You woke up to the feeling of fingertips lightly touching and tracing over your side. It was oddly soothing.

When you moved your eyes up to his face, he was looking at you with fond eyes.

"How long have you been staring at me, weirdo?"

"Only for a minute"

You let out a soft giggle. His face was so puffy in the morning, so cute.

"Did you want to come up with some ground rules for our arrangement?"

Crap. You forgot about that.

"Hmmm... I guess my only thing is not sleeping with other people."

Hopefully, he would agree to that. You just didn't feel comfortable messing around with someone knowing they have been sleeping with others.

"Yeah, I can get with that." He said with a gentle tone.

He added, "We should also let each other know when we are talking to other people."

"Of course."

Your arrangement wasn't too difficult. If anything the two of you could always opt out of it.

That should be easy right?

Part Two: II

#seventeen #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #seventeen smut #smut #kpop smut #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #scoups #choi seungcheol #luv writes

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forthegothicheroine · 6 months ago

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I've made a post about great lesser-known noirs, but it occurs to me that some of you might not be familiar with the classics, and might want to know where to start. This is a ridiculously short list- I have a million more to talk about- but here are some of the big stars of the genre.

The Maltese Falcon: Sam Spade, a clever but callous private detective, gets wrapped up in intrigue relating to an artifact that is functionally cursed. If he's an unscrupulous character, just wait until you meet everyone else. The whole damn cast is electrifying, lending charm and cruelty in equal measure.

The Big Sleep: Philip Marlowe, a kinder and more poetic detective for Humphrey Bogart to play than Spade, is called upon to deal with a wealthy, dysfunctional family, and it keeps on getting weirder from there. Is the sharp-tongued Vivian Sternwood the femme fatale she seems, or is she just another person trying to find the right thing to do in desperate circumstances? And will she and Marlowe keep their hands off each other until the plot has had its last twist?

Double Indemnity: Rich housewife Phyllis Dietrichson and sleazy insurance agent Walter Neff are, by their own admission, rotten people. It's only natural that they should plot a murder together, and that they should turn on each other the very second things go wrong. Every single domestic murder movie since 1944 has ripped this off.

Kiss Me Deadly: This is nominally an adaptation of a Mike Hammer story. Screenwriter Bezzerides hated Mike Hammer. As depicted here, he is one of the worst people in the world. Depending on the cut of the film you see, he may inadvertently cause the nuclear apocalypse. (For once, the theatrical cut is darker.)

Sweet Smell of Success: Cruel, all-powerful columnist JJ Hunsecker wants his sister's boyfriend out of the way (for reasons that are, um, ambiguous.) To accomplish this, he enlists the biggest weasel in New York, Sidney Falco, and the two completely deserve each other as they spend the rest of the movie trading elaborate insults. Popular on tumblr for its dialogue and chemistry between the leads.

Sunset Boulevard: Broke screenwriter Joe Gillis thinks he can con a has-been into hiring him as a script doctor, and that's the last free decision he ever gets to make. From then on, his life is in the hands of Norma Desmond, silent film starlet turned crazed recluse, terrifying yet intensely pitiable. This is as much gothic horror as noir.

Ace in the Hole: The story of a man trapped in a cave is turning out to be a big hit in the newspaper, and if the publicity will make a reporter's career, then what's the harm in delaying rescue just for a little while? This is as vicious as noir gets, but damn it, you've just got to see what happens next. (Watch Jacob Geller's video Fear of the Depths after this.)

Sorry Wrong Number: Of all the films on this list, this is the one that really scared me. In the days of switchboards, a rich hypocondriac woman is connected to the wrong phone line and overhears a murder being planned. It doesn't take her long to figure out she's the intended victim, and each call she makes or recieves makes the situation darker. But how can she escape her fate if she can't- or won't leave her bed?

The Asphalt Jungle: The heist movie. Maybe the only heist movie ever made. Every line is quotable. Every member of the team is an unforgettable personality. When things go wrong, they go horribly wrong. One minute you're laughing, and the next minute you think you'll never laugh again.

Gun Crazy: Laurie and Bart, two practiced sharpshooters, are perhaps the most perfect match in all of noir- and that's a bad thing. When one half of the duo gets a criminal idea in their head, the other can't say no. When the opportunity to ditch her man like a sap comes up, the femme fatale throws it away to be doomed at his side. He fell in love with her when she first aimed a gun at him. Quentin Tarantino kissed star Peggy Cummins's feet at a showing of the film, and I hope she kicked him in the head.

Laura: Everyone was in love with Laura Hunt, and somebody killed her- or did they? Did they get the right person? Is the cop on the case in love with a dead woman? Was her columnist mentor just her gay best friend, or was there something darker beneath that facade? And what would Laura think of all this? A big inspiration on Twin Peaks.

In a Lonely Place: Bogart isn't at all heroic here, as a screenwriter with a drinking habit and a violent temper. He's obviously a bad idea to date, but just how bad an idea? He's not the type of guy who'd kill a woman, is he? Bogart and Gloria Holden give perhaps their best performances here, and they'll wound your soul.

Touch of Evil: A Mexican cop (played, unfortunately, by Charlton Heston) finds out a nasty secret about the big hero cop Hank Quinlan: he's framed the culprit in most of his cases. Not because he's crooked, but because his intuition tells him they're guilty. Director Orson Welles as Quinlan is frightening, grotesque, and a little bit tragic in what some consider the last classic noir.

The Killers: The first twenty minutes or so are an adaptation of a Hemingway story, where out of town hitmen gun down a man so depressed he won't even bother to run from them. The rest of the film is an investigation into how he got that way. It had something to do with a radiant gangster's girl, and something to do with a few botched crimes. Sometimes a man can die before the bullets even touch him.

The Third Man: Everybody is lying about the whereabouts of an American expatriate named Harry when his friend comes looking. Did they do something to him? Or, more frightening still, is he the one who's been doing things to other people? Orson Welles is a more charming monster than he was in Touch of Evil; the light and shadows on his face cast him as a vampire, while his fingers sticking up through the sewer grate look like something terrifying emerging from the earth.

#film noir #noirvember

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thalwri · 5 months ago

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confessions for lovers - kaldur'ahm

synopsis: you find yourself wondering why Kaldur has been so distant as of recent, so when the opportunity arises for you to confront it head on you make sure you don't leave it to fate.

warnings: dry humping, fantasising sex, a lot of grinding, smut, lowkey fluff

kaldur'ahm x fembod!reader ; characters are aged up!

word count: 4,4k

MDNI!!!

After his return from Atlantis, Kaldur’ahm seemed to fare better than how he was during the team’s mission in Bialya. Spending multiple hours exposed to the dry air of the desert, especially without the core source of energy that keeps him functional, had thrown him off just a bit. Being forced to spend a week in his home after having another mission with Roy as well must have soothed the blow. The issue was, he still seemed distant.

You had tried to meet him at your usual spot where the two of you have made a habit of conversing or gossiping, but he barely shows. You tried to ask him directly if he was okay and what was going on in his mind but he would somehow - and effortlessly, to your irritation - move around it and avoid answering your suspicions. Even talking about the bores of reporting after each mission didn’t make him budge.

“Kaldur’ahm.” Normally saying his full name in a serious tone, like the one you sometimes use when you’re viciously enraged, would work to get him to listen. And he did. His gaze had averted to the mission report he was drafting to you.

“You’re worrying too much, dear friend,” He calmly smiled at you. His charm had already begun to melt into you. That feeling that it would all be fine because he said so almost disarmed your persistence. You believed he was using some type of Atlantean sorcery on you, but it didn’t occur to you that you were choosing excuses for your response rather than accepting that it may just be something else. Something more.

You attempted to try the external approach. You had probed Artemis and Wally to try themselves and pestered Dick until even he admitted he didn’t have much of a clue. You had made your attempt with Conner and M’gann too since they had also visited Atlantis with him; they were both reluctant to speak on it. At that point you considered begging your mentor to ask Aquaman what happened in Atlantis, but what would the king of an underwater kingdom be doing with his mentee’s personal affairs?

It felt as though you would never get the chance to see what was going on with him. You were just about to give up, until you were blessed with a summons to a mission briefing.

Conner and M’gann were assigned to play as the Terror Twins - Tommy and Tuppence Terror - to investigate a suspicious upcoming transfer of the Icicle Jr and Mr. Freeze to Belle Reve instead of their initial placements for rehabilitation and punishment. Batman emphasised the heavy suspicion of how easily incarcerated they were along with their instant petitions to be moved, hence assigning just the two of them in.

“Who inside the prison will know their true identities?” Kaldur asked in concern, most likely for their safety.

“No one,” You both furrowed your brows. “We can’t be certain the prison staff isn’t compromised.”

And that forced them to essentially be on their own for the duration of the mission. That didn’t explain why you and Kaldur were involved.

“Then what is the task for Aqualad and I?” You couldn’t really see what your purpose in the mission was. “If Miss Martian and Superboy are the only ones within, where does that leave us?”

“You two, along with Red Tornado, will be monitoring the situation closely but securely from the outside.” The Bat’s voice rumbled around the main hall of the cave. His presence has never failed to make you shiver in slight fear. Even though you’ve been trained by him alongside your mentor for years, he was still quite terrifying.

“Should anything happen inside, an escape plan will be set in place by the two of you to efficiently remove Superboy and Miss Martian. Beyond that, your job is to observe and maintain contact with them for the duration of the mission.”

You nodded in understanding. You thought about the entire ordeal in a stretch of detail. There was an opening, a really good opening, for you and Kaldur to talk but you had grown so agitated that you didn’t think it was worth bothering yourself about. A mission like that was designed to be lengthy but you expected Conner and M’gann to be efficient.

You hadn’t realised it would last days.

M’gann had prepared the bioship to accommodate for the extensive stay they were having outside the prison. Bedding, food, and all the adequate necessities were there and ready for when they were needed. Not that either of you would sleep. With the patrols and monotonous report readings from the rest of the team, you had found yourselves over occupied to engage in leisurely activities.

You gripped the blade stored on your thigh tightly, keeping an eye out for unwanted surveyors from the tree you were hiding in. Every two hours or so, you and Kaldur did monitoring rotations to ensure everything was undisturbed outside of the bioship. It was capable of camouflaging effectively, but you took precautions anyway.

A telepathic voice slithered into the surface of your mind. M’gann’s voice. A brief update of the happenings within Belle Reve revealed that the plan for a breakout has been put in place, and is going to happen soon.

”Time to pull you out.” His soothing voice made your ears warm as you stood on the branch you were previously kneeling on. A hatch opening above the bioship opened for you.

“Icicle would only postpone.” M’gann quickly objected, and you couldn’t help but agree. You had a feeling that dealing with a breakout would be more than just a headache to handle, especially if all the prisoners are out. “We need to learn how they’re busting out, or they’ll just try again.”

Once you were certain the coast was clear, you jumped off the tree and landed in the hatch opening above the bioship to land directly into the cockpit.

“Agreed.” The final telepathic message sent through by Kaldur has the opening closed above you.

You rose to your feet, adjusting your mission attire and glanced at him. He sighed and leaned back on his seat, crossing his arms. His gills flared slightly as his large muscles flexed as they moved. You could almost count the veins pulsing against his skin icons, almost like his electric power was harnessed through his blood. You wouldn’t really be against getting electrocuted by those muscles.

You watched his lips curve and purse as he probably reported back to Red Tornado, the specifics of his words went in through one ear and left through the other. It was only when you heard the mechanical whirring of Red Tornado’s head turn to you, did you snap out of your daze.

“External surroundings are clear.” You reported, your eyes focused on reeling and binding your blade more securely to your thigh. Although you couldn’t truly confirm it, you could feel a certain gaze fixed on you. You chose not to acknowledge it.

“Affirmative,” His synthesised voice echoed through the cockpit. “Then it would be best if both of you rest for the rest of the day. Should anything happen, I will call.”

With a curt nod, you walked into the depths of the bioship towards your chosen room. It was a temporary placement, of course, but you couldn’t help but bring along some books along with your weapons and shield to give it a slight homey sensation, even if it was just for days. You had also packed a change of clothing and mission attire, knowing walking around in the same clothing would feel disgusting at some point.

The mere thought of Kaldur’ahm began to agitate you. The two of you were good friends, having shared your secrets and fears with one another, having a secret area at the cave where you would sit for an hour and do whatever came to mind be it swimming, reading, training, or merely talking. Sure, there were those moments where hands touched places they weren’t supposed to be, and lips were kissed - specifically under the strict conditions of ‘spin the bottle’ when you were playing with the rest of the Team - but it didn’t truly make anything out of them. Right?

You were friends. You told each other everything. So why was he holding back now?

You leaned on the wall dragging your hands across your body, feeling restless. Something about him today left you feeling starved with desire. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling, but it certainly wasn’t welcome especially in the middle of a mission. Feeling more attentive to his voice, eying every intricate movement, imagining the feeling of his flesh against yours– you were losing your grip on control and restraint. The break would be your best chance at expelling it before things got worse.

Your hands traced over the curves of your breasts to your waist, feeling a slight tingle of arousal left in its wake. To be both angry and horny over Kaldur was a new experience, and you weren’t too sure on how you felt about it. On one hand you would give him a colloquial form of the silent treatment, addressing him in the duration of the mission but when you had time to yourselves, you wouldn’t give him the time of day. On the other hand, you could lock yourself in your room and tend to your body’s untimely needs so that it won’t bother you for the rest of the mission.

Alas, being petty wasn’t your forte and succumbing to your needs while being emotionally conflicted didn’t seem like it would reap a good result.

Your hands fell to your sides in defeat. You would have to brood instead.

Just as you were about to strip off your uniform, a soft knock caught your attention. You called for whoever was there to enter, but you had a hunch of exactly who it was.

“Are you alright?” Kaldur’s smooth voice sang to your soul. You could feel the anger starting to melt away, and the arousal started to bubble deep within. It appeared your body had a different agenda than your mind.

“I should be asking you.” You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest. Kaldur stepped inside, allowing for the door to slide shut behind him.

“You’ve barely spoken since we got here,” He reached to hold your arms, a usual habit he had to try look into what was affecting you. A method to make you feel comfortable in knowing he was there for you. “Talk to me.” His kindness and sincere concern sent butterflies bullying your stomach, but you held firm in your resolve.

“Ever since you came back from Atlantis, you’ve been off.” You start, slightly stepping back from him. “Every time I ask, you either are freshly occupied or you change the topic. When I try to organise a chance for us to even spend time with each other, you avoid it. You avoid me.”

You felt a short pinch in your chest after saying that. You didn’t truly acknowledge the hurt until it was spoken aloud. “If it’s because of when we kissed, or those other times and how’s it conflicting with… you know, it’s fine and I get it. But that doesn’t mean avoidance is the answer.”

He remained quiet for what felt like hours, his face slowly became more solemn. You quickly worried that you said something incorrectly or hurt his feelings before his hands gently held yours.

“I have been holding off with you for a while,” He acknowledges, watching you avert your gaze. He taps your chin with a finger, asking for you to look at him. He just adores eye contact with those pale green eyes of his. “Regarding our activities, I enjoyed them. Truly. And this has nothing to do with Tula either– well, it did but I have since come to move on.”

“You’ve looked so strained lately,” You added, feeling like you needed to understand more. “What’s been happening?”

He stared at you quietly, with the familiar gaze he has when he calculates things in his mind. It was going to take time before he decided what would be best for him to share with you so you took a wild guess. “Did Roy say something to you during your mission with him?”

Kaldur’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. You merely shrugged. “You know I’m good at guessing.”

He broke into brief laughter, almost vibrating from the accuracy of your guess. “Yes, Roy did tell me something rather daunting,” His smile quickly faded. “But it’s a delicate matter I believe would be dangerous to share with anyone outside of the two of us. That, alongside the strain of healing after Bialya has left me worse for wear. I hope you can forgive me.”

You felt bad. He was going through so much. His hands reached to hold your face, a gesture he has only done twice. “And regarding you especially, I think it’s time we address the elephant in the room.”

You like him. Like, like like him. And you’ve known for a while. Was he going to expose and reject you for it? Was he going to be more avoidant afterwards? Multiple negative thoughts were buzzing in your head, so much so that you barely heard what he had said.

“What?”

His lips curved into a handsome smile. “I said, I know of the feelings and affections you hold for me. And I want you to know I feel the same way.”

Your brain must have shut down because you felt frozen in place. He returned the feelings you have for him. Kaldur’ahm. Liked. You. Your mouth opened and closed repeatedly as you struggled to figure out what you could say.

“I– Kal–“

Kaldur grinned, pinching your cheeks. “I know,” Almost as if he had read your mind, extracting what you had intended to say to him. “And I’ve been wanting to do something since I came to realise how I feel.” His face drew closer to yours in a tantalisingly slow pace. “If I may.”

You took no time to hesitate or ponder, the moment the yes left your lips his own had taken its place. His arms engulfed you in his embrace, slowly reaching up your back as the level of urgency and need slowly increased. The air began to stick to your skin, heat rising to your face.

You briefly pulled away, watching Kaldur lean forward to kiss you again. “Say it again.” You commanded. Face flustered yet determined, Kaldur bit his lower lip and leaned down to your ear.

“I like you. Quite a lot. And I want to continue kissing you while I still have my restraint.” He leaned close to you with his body, gently guiding you to the couch directly next to the bed. His eyes erratically bounced between yours and your lips, as if unsure which of the two were worth more to admire.

Arms still tightly coiled around you, you pulled him back into your passionate embrace, greeting his lips with your tongue and suckling nibbling until both of you had swollen lips. In a near lustful dance between heavy breaths, and pecks, you were lifted up and carried mid-kiss and plopped onto his lap while he rested on the armchair.

“I find you enticingly attractive,” His lips travelled from your lips to your neck, covered by your mission attire. His teeth grazed over the fabric as his grip on you tightened even more, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. You knew Kaldur had this kind of energy within him, but to experience it was something completely different.

“I find you charmingly intelligent,” His tongue traced the path his lips took, leading back to yours and pulled you into a breath snatching kiss. You almost felt like putty in his arms, instinctively moving your hips against his in need. He groaned, holding you down to keep you from moving again. You could almost hear the blood surrounding your pussy thump and throb in titillation.

Feeling a bit of cheek you circled your hips around him. Your hands kept near his face, raking his short hair, stroking his face as your lips reconnected. A low moan reverberated in your mouth, a vocal representation of his muscles flexing harder to keep you from moving again. Just to ensure you would effectively receive the message, his hips pushed against yours making you very aware of a very hard, throbbing bulge beneath you.

You paused in your movements, a small gasp being your immediate response. Another sharp thrust hit you in surprise, the full awareness of its size settled in your mind. “Fuck, Kaldur.”

Oh. Oh. It felt remarkable.

“I take it you like what you feel.” Kaldur grinned, his warm breath fanning your clothed neck before he pressed a gentle kiss on you. If only you could rip off everything you’re wearing. His hips thrusted up against you once more, forcing you to silence a whimper by holding your lips between your teeth.

“I like a great many things about you,” You sigh in pleasure, slowly grinding against his erection. Your mind grew fuzzy from the feeling of his cock being just layers away from your pussy. You felt your clothing start to soak from how wet you were getting.

“Being a great,” Kiss. “…strong leader.” You moved down to kiss his collarbones, afraid of touching his gills in case they were sensitive.

“Being a compassionate,” Kiss. “…generous companion.” Your hands traced the skin icons from his biceps to his wrists simultaneously. You took the time to delicately trace over each and every vein you could see, which only deepened your arousal for Kaldur.

“Most especially this,” Your tongue left a trail of saliva from the ridge between his collarbones, to his Adam’s apple, to his lips, engulfing him in your need and desire for him. Your grinding eventually synced with his gentle thrusts, gradually going faster and harder against each other. Losing your breath, along with your inhibitions was no longer a concern. For the time being, there was no mission. It was just you and him.

His erection was growing larger and harder by the second, occasionally twitching and aggressively grinding against you. Feeling it pulsate against the layers between your clit drove you into a hazy frenzy.

Short breaths, rubbing fabric and hushed moans filled the otherwise silent room. Your eyes were fixated on Kaldur slowly unravelling his restraint through his moans, his impulsive kisses and sultry licks and bites on the skin that wasn’t covered by clothing, the uncontrollable juts of his hips, and his hands being everywhere on you from your face to your breasts, and to your back and ass which he seemed to delight in particularly. His eyes were locked on yours as if he was lost deeply within and the only thing keeping him somewhat grounded was your voice, the pleasure boiling within him, and the chance of being caught or heard.

“You are so beautiful,” He whispers as his lips tickle your cheek. You raised your hips just to drop yourself onto his bulge, eliciting a mixture of a groan and whimper from him. Merely thinking about clamping around his cock got you soaking further into your uniform, got you wetter, more dazed in hunger to devour him.

The skin icons on his arms glowed brightly as his grip on your hips tightened, pushing you back and forth on his cock as it twitched beneath your pussy. One hand latched onto your waist, pulling you closer until his face was flush on your breasts, tongue swirling around where he assumed your nipples would be. How he got the exact spot, you couldn’t tell.

Your nails clawed his arms in a sore attempt to maintain balance and control of yourself, to stop yourself from cumming just from grinding over him. The possibility of taking him inside you was right there and you wanted the energy to do it through the night if that was even possible.

You could just picture yourself relentlessly bouncing on his cock, his lips all over your bare chest suckling light bruises onto you, feeling so overly drenched in cum and sweat that it gets you hornier than you should be, needier than you thought you could be. The thought of whispering the dirtiest of your desires into his ears and Kaldur responding dutifully by bringing your wishes to reality made you moan.

Your daze within desire was snapped back into your mind when you felt his hand smack and squeeze your ass, fondling and massaging it with lewd care. “I- I’m getting close-“ His head fell back onto the chair, adjusting his grip on you to push himself deeper into your clothed pussy. The friction was bringing you dangerously close, your thighs beginning to shake, and your core tightening in warning of you nearing climax. You frantically nodded to him, almost silently begging him to do just as much. You leaned down entrapping your lips with his instantly receiving a welcome from his tongue accompanied by a harsh groan from the depths of his throat.

With one arm coiled around his shoulders and the other reaching up to the back of his head, you pushed your body into him until it hurt. You wanted to be one with each other. Beyond the clothes. He was still swirling his tongue against yours, occasionally pulling it back to tug on your lips in a passionate, lustrous kiss. Huffs of your name escape his lips in syllables with each sharp thrust he pushes against you. You hiccuped moans in the only way you can properly respond; trying to actually say something would sound like a bundle of incomplete sentences.

“Want you,” you groaned, scratching his muscles. Your clit pulsated its final warning, threatening to release its tension until a harsh thrust let it all out. “Need you- fuck- Kaldur!”

You could almost hear the squelching of cum and wetness in your pussy, back arching and your head tipping back to release a melodic moan. Kaldur made a noise that sounded like a mixture of a giggle and a whimper as he rode you through your orgasm through quick, cruel thrusts until he stilled with a soft yet lengthy “fuck!” followed by a whimper of your name, slowing his pace as you both calmed, pants and huffs eventually easing into stabilised breathing.

His hands gently held your face, pulling you into a more gentle, slower kiss, full of exhaustion and appreciation. His hands caressed your cheeks, warming your ears in a dazed form of excitement. Despite the last few minutes, such a sweet gesture was enough to make you flustered.

“I do enjoy your presence in my life.” Kaldur said firmly, still holding your face in his hands to lock his eyes on yours. “To be so conflicted by my grief is my own doing, you had no involvement in my distancing.”

“Really, I understand,” You replied, too exhausted to be stern with him. “Speaking to someone - a friend or even Black Canary - about these kinds of things is better than pushing through it alone.”

He nodded slowly, pressing his lips on yours again; he just couldn’t get enough of you. “I’m grateful you’ve given me the chance to straighten it out once and for all.”

Far from capable of giving another comprehensible speech, you could only nod in response. You nuzzled your forehead against his to signify your appreciation.

“I didn’t anticipate this being the way I’d come to confess my feelings and attraction to you, but I am somewhat-“

“Pleased?” You grinned. “You did sound like it.”

His ears flushed in embarrassment, but he had the wits to bite back. “You look just as pleased if not more. I think you said you need me–“

A gentle knock at the door to your room brought you both to an instant silence. You stared at each other in worry. Were you too loud? Red Tornado called your name, to which you quickly acknowledged.

“It is time to check in with Miss Martian once more,” He said. It seemed like he didn’t notice. “And your patrol rotation can be cut short tonight, all seems well.”

“I’ll be there soon, Red Tornado.” You called, the only response was heavy footsteps marching away. You and Kaldur let out audible sighs of relief, relaxing from the tension.

“I believe you should get going,” Kaldur whispered, stroking your back then squeezing your hips with a subtle smirk.

“So should you, fish boy.” You snuck a peck from his lips, leaning back before he could return the gesture. You reached to peel off the top of your mission uniform, stopping to tease him with your cleavage. “But first, we might need a change of clothes.”

The mission had gone successfully. The day after your unexpected bonding with Kaldur, the breakout attempt was thwarted, the prisoners returned to their cells dismally, and you left feeling much closer to Kaldur. M’gann and Conner looked as though they had a similar result

They sat close to one another, with their hands fondling almost like children having their first crush. Kaldur piloted the bioship and you sat up ahead, drafting the mission report as per the memories M’gann had shared with you.

“You and Kaldur seem to be close,” She grinned, as a seat morphed next to yours.

“I think that applies more with you, M’gann,” You grinned, though you couldn’t help but agree.

“If you believe so,” She shrugged. “But do know your thoughts are rather loud when you’re… occupied with him.”

You looked at M’gann in bewilderment until your eyes slowly widened as the realisation dawned upon you. It wasn’t uncommon for strong feelings to be read by a telepath without them actually trying. You just didn’t think, let alone know, that it applied to- well, that. M’gann winked and placed a finger over her lips, silently promising not to tell anyone before she flew back to Conner.

You slumped in your seat feeling almost as flustered as you were when-

You slapped your cheeks, swatting away the memories in case they waved off into M’gann’s mind again. A smile graced your face in satisfaction regardless. You know where you are with Kaldur, you know how he feels, and you definitely know what he wants.

You turned in your seat to give Kaldur a glance only to find his gaze already on you. You both shared a cheeky grin. How it all happened, you’d never tell a soul. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#young justice #aqualad x reader #kaldur'ahm x reader #kaldur x reader #young justice x reader #kaldur'ahm #kaldur #aqualad #aqualad smut #kaldur'ahm smut #young justice smut #✧.* thalwri works

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yandere-romanticaa · 6 months ago

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"Come on, do not give me that face."

The urge to hurl was overwhelming as you clutched your stomach in agony. Thoma's voice was filled with concern as he stood over you like an overly exhausted parent - his arms on his hips, chin held up high and with that dreadfully soft look on his otherwise handsome face.

You felt like spitting at him, and probably would've if each breath did not feel like a stab to the gut. His stupidly attractive face somehow made him more infuriating for some reason.

"This would not be happening if you just followed the basic instructions I laid out for you..." he spoke flatly, green eyes shining with an emotion you could not quite put your finger on.

It has been a few weeks since the Kamisato housekeeper took you. Keeping track of time and how long ago that actually was quite the endeavor primarily because he kept you locked away in a private quarter, sealed off from the sunlight.

Your train off thought was suddenly broken as a newer, stronger wave of nausea coursed through you, the pain impossible to bear. You did everything you could to choke back on the few bites of lunch which were eaten not too long ago, but it was futile. Tiny chunks of vomit and spit and vomit escaped you, the pain burning your throat from the inside out. Some of the bits landed on your captors shoes but he did not seem to care, or he simply refrained from making any comments.

"There, there..." whispered Thoma, his voice gentle and so damn patronizing. You felt him crouch next to you, the heat of his body meshing with your own as he placed both of his hands on your shoulders, a gesture which should have been comforting but it held the opposite effect.

All you wanted to do was cry. Alone, somewhere, anywhere.

Just far away from him.

It never even occurred to you that Thoma could have tampered with your food. When this entire debacle had started, pettiness had won over and you promptly decided to go on a hunger strike. It went on for too long for Thoma's and frankly, your comfort.

Today however, you had caved and by doing so were paying a big price for making Thoma worry. The man always was big on discipline after all. And the best way to teach someone a lesson was to hurt them, even if they didn't want to.

That was the route Thoma had ended up picking. Chances are, he wouldn't have it any other way. If you knew what was coming if you disobeyed, there would be less of a mess for him to clean up or worry about.

Ah, now that's the dream.

#i might edit this and add some images to it later but I'm feeling lazy rn so #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yancore #yandere x you #yanderecore #yandere aesthetic #genshin impact #genshin #yandere genshin impact #thoma #thoma x reader #yandere thoma #yandere thoma x reader #cw vomit

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evilminji · 22 days ago

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Ngl, I'm kinda really big on "Accidentally Fixing Things While I Was Off, Minding My Business/Indulging My Hyper Fixation"

With a side of "huh, why do I hear jaws music?" *Og!Protagonist Approach-ith*

Cause like? Who WOULDN'T want to play around with QI? Talismans? Get REAL deep into the esoteric Cultivation Lore??! What do you MEAN "boring", native to this universe!? This shit is MAGIC! We're literally playing with MAGIC here! I can write squiggles on a peice of paper and BEND REALITY! Concentrate REAL hard and have the universe around me just... shrug and OBEY!!!

That's SO COOL!

Sweet backflips and flying swords! Mythic animals! Forget being a wizard, this is WAY better! *cackles in glee*

Imagine if a SI-OC aims for a Peak that was never even brought up in Cannon! The Talismans and Artifacts (don't get them started. Yes, it's both two seperate fields. But somehow ALSO a spectrum? And can be both at once, depending on the age of the object? No one else is quite sure...) Peak. She finds her people.

First you study the general, then you specialize.

Everyone there can info-dump for HOURS on their niche field of study! Lots of cross Peak cooperation! Half of them are never ON Peak because they can't MOVE their objects of interest! Gotta study them at location! Which, yes, includes hidden realms! AND THE CREATION OF THEM.

Their last Peak lord? Fuckin DIED to Tianlang-jun's sealing. Their CURRENT Shizun? Hates the Old Palace Master with the fury of ten thousand suns. Bastard just... just DUMPED a project like "seal a Heavenly Fucking Demon Emperor" on everybody LAST MINUTE. And WIPED OUT an ENTIRE GENERATION of Masters.

If ANY of them work with ANYONE from Hau Haun? They are DEAD to him.

DEAD.

So like.... fuck those guys. It's the formal stance of her Peak. Fuck those guys forever. *spits*

Oc agrees. Cause wtf. That sounds like it was unreasonable and deeply fucked up. And that kid of demon? SUPER dangerous! Good thing there aren't any more of them! She says... having never read the book. Either one. Granted, things KINDA sound familiar? In that her brother used to talk about a series from overseas he was slowly moogle translating to read.

But like? It's the Multiverse. Not impossible odds. Maybe her soul just clung to a Cultivation Universe that VAGUELY sounded familiar, over the countless that DID NOT. Not like she knows how Reincarnation works...

Anyway~ Back to her projects!

She's industrious AF. Exceeds her Talisman goals. Constantly. Which means she gets to keep or sell the extra (it's motivation to work hard). She likes to give some to people who look like they need um. Like that miserable kid on Qing Jing. She sees him every time she stops by to hit up their, frankly, Gucci Library. VERY fancy.

Here, kid, have some warming and protection talismans. Perimeter alert ones. Kinda weird you go through so many, but meh, I don't know your life. Want one of my practice Qiankun pouches? It's ugly af. But since our peak makes them, I gotta practice.

The kid gives her snacks. They're pretty good, not gonna lie.

He IS... kinda creepy though. Very "you should skip school tomorrow" quite kid with too intense eye contact. You... uh... you GOOD, kiddo? Wanna talk? Should... should she, like, do something about this, or.....

No, no! He insists. With the flattest, fakest smile she's ever seen outside of a Serial Killer. He's Fine™! No need to worry about HIM!

......okay, but, see, when you SAY shit like that....

Creepy™ "probably gonna murder everyone on Qing Jing" kid aside? She has a GOAL! Wants to make a MEDICAL Hidden Realm! Yeah, that's right!! See, you can dictate the "rules" of reality (somewhat) inside the Realm you create, right? SO! It occurred to her! She should make a Realm?

That DOES NOT ALLOW QI DEVIATIONS!

Something that forces the Qi inside one's body to smooth and heal! Calm and rich! Like Ling Xi caves but for healing instead of breakthroughs! It could be a lifesaving realm, where one goes to ride out a Qi Deviation or face their heart demons! In an environment that will not ALLOW them to fatally spiral!

Of course, she needs to find a whole bunch of rare and soothing legendary flowers to plant. Trees, too. A couple rare beasts, known for their intensely soothing auras. Just... REALLY stack the odds. THEN off course, she'll have to lay the ground work of the realm itself. Find a good place to PUT it!

Maybe Qian Cao Peak? Or could she connect it to to the Ling Xi to take advantage of the natural Qi and protection the mountain itself gives? She would need permission either way... she should draft a consultation request...

All this? As the immortal conference gets closer and closer. Fate LOOMS.

Only to slide wildly off the rails, as she get approved by THE SECT LEADER to make her "Anti-Qi-Deviation Realm" in the Ling Xi Caves as her final project. Her Master Work as an Inner Disciple, as it were, Proof of studies and skill. All HE saw was "anti-Qi-deviation" and thought "this could totally help Xiao-Jiu". Immediately gave the go ahead.

(And as for Lui Qinggi? This is NOT a new idea of hers. She'd long gotten Mu Qingfang on board. What luck, for EVERONE involved, he was in the caves that day. Once again looking for a good place to anchor the realm, for a maximum effect to ease of access ratio.)

She anchors the Realm. Starts planting like mad. Transferring her legendary Soothing Plants and Soothing Trees. Constructing a few buildings in accordance to the feng shui MASTER she hunted down and consulted. Requests Shen-shibo himself come and be in charge of paintings and other decorations, as he IS the master of the scholars peak.

(And most at risk of a Lords or a Qi Deviation. So would be a splendid test case.)

(Is what she does not say...)

(But they are both aware of anyway.)

And? Shen Jiu? Has... never felt so calm and safe in his LIFE. Unnatural! Doesn't like it. Disgusting. What coddling nonsense! He's never going... going... to go... *stands at the entrance and glares, like the realm personally offended him* *carefully inches back inside like an abused cat*

He stops paying attention to his peak almost immediately. Yes, he does his job. But... his brain is no longer wrapped up in it. Obsessive over it. Constantly comparing and jealous and spiteful. Don't get him wrong! He's still a petty, spiteful, bitch of a man. But...

True, restful sleep? Changes a man. The complete lack of constant minor Qi Deviations, like mini-seizures, in the night. Throughout the day. Constantly wearing him down, tearing him down. Exhausting him and hurting. That... gentleness. Calm. Escape from pain, which he has lived with for so, so long.

What was he doing? Comparing himself to brats?

Being jealous of and competitive of tiny little IDIOTS. They're morons! He's a Peak Lord. He's WON.

He starts ignoring Bingge. Noticing things he'd overlooked before, in his exhaustion. Like the fact that his daughter is, apparently, very susceptible to rumor mongering and not AWARE she is just and ONLY his daughter. (Ying-er, sweetie, Baba loves you... but sometimes you make him very tired...) (also it will be a cold day in hell, when he allows to to marry that little cretin. Chose better.)

Oc? Getting SLOSHED with Mu-shibo! WOOOOO~☆ we DID IT!!! The Realm was a SUCCESS! We're GENIUSES! We can't wait to see how this develops!!! *celebrating noises*

Immortal Conference, happens. SI-OC? Just graduated. Missed it. Meh... it should be fine. Still... here, kiddos. Her backlog of Talismans and pouches. Never know when that might be useful! Oh, hey, Creepy I mean, that Kid from Qing Jing who thankfully hasn't killed anybody yet! Still got the Weirdly Intense Eye Contact, I see! You all packed?

....that's... a little light.

Here, Talismans and Pouches, just like the kids from her Peak. Stay safe, okay? There's food and water in there. Medicine too. Some emergency blankets. Flares and stuff. Don't hesitate to use um. They are made to be used. Everybody be good!

And remember! This conference isn't worth your life!

[♡Luo Binghe Will Remember This♡]

W...why do I hear jaws music? Hello? Helloooo?

Cause like? Shen Jiu? Doesn't throw him in. He's too busy saving students he Actually Cares About. You know... like a RESPONSIBLE Peak Lord. But does that STOP fate? Ha! No. Down Binghe goes! With a bunch of pouches he begged of Talisman Peak disciples who were dropping out. Since... they didn't need them... *puppy dog eyes* c-could he steal borrow them?

He ends up in the Abyss with a small warehouse of supplies. Which is GREAT! Will get him through this hellscape!

Assuming he can protect it.

Every meal. Every night of sleep where he DOESNT have to twitch at every sound, thanks to the talisman arrays. Every drop of clean water. Scrap of medicine. It's a reminder of the One(1) Sister who was nice to him at no cost. Didn't want to fuck him, use him, in some way. Have him a part, like some sort of emotional crutch. Was just... kind. For the sake of kindness.

Saw him, not the mask he wore, and recognized he'd be strong. (Why else would she look so wary?) And he wants and wants and Wants AND WANTS.

Aren't I strong, now, Shixiong? Aren't you so very proud of me? Look how powerful Luo Binghe has become! I came back for you. Brought back the things you gave me. A little stained, but that's okay. We can make new ones. Can finally move on. No more Cang Qiong. Isn't it great? Tell me it's GREAT, Shixiong.

Please stop running. Or I'll have to burn the mountain down.

@mayfay @legitimatesatanspawn @babbling-babull @hdgnj @spidori @leftnotright

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inklore · 2 years ago

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sending a little commander mills thot 💖 stopping for the night in a dark, deep cave. sharing a bed roll quickly turning into something more, as you end up on your hands and knees beneath him. there’s a rattle of stones near the entrance and his large hand is pressing over your mouth to keep you quiet - his senses on high alert for danger. but even then, mills can’t help the shallow rock of his hips - unable to resist how good you feel

warning signs

pairing: commander mills x (f)reader

word count: 1.1k+

contents: unprotected p in v, creampie, small amount of dirty talk, i didn't classify what planet they were on but threats are occurring, slight enemies to lovers, rough.

note: i'd let this man have his way with me in an open warzone and i have no shame about it because this idea has me insane.

You should have known.

You should have known this planet would be nothing but a bad omen when you had to emergency land on it. When you lost contact, your ship deciding to stop working properly. When the only way of getting out a signal was to rig the system built within the interface of the hunk of metal. Ultimately destroying any chance of getting out of here on it but allowing you to get out a weakened signal, you hoped your home planet would come and swiftly send someone to you before this planet showed just why it was inhabitable by those who walked on two legs and didn’t prefer the taste of game.

You should have known that Mills would be the worst person to crash land with.

Should have known he’d only raise your blood pressure and have a permanent scowl curve your brows until it gave you a headache.

And you really should have known that he’d be this big.

His stature alone suggesting that was more to him than broad deltoids beneath those clothes. More than just deadpan looks and side eyes of scolds and warnings behind those iris’s. Behind the moments and trips the two of you have taken together over the years.

You should have known that his cock would stretch you like this. Making your insides burn when he thrusts inside of you. Your walls accommodating something that’s bringing you pleasure at the same time it has you mewling in pain—something big and hot and heady that’s making your fingers dig into the dirt.

Your back arched at an angle that has your body scraping forward against the ground every time Mills snaps his hips against your ass. His cock going deeper and deeper—the tip hitting that spot inside of you that makes your body want to run from him, want to escape the pleasure and the sting of him going past what your bodies used to—his nails digging into your hips. Moonshaped marks embossed in your skin as he holds your ass in place. As he refuses to let you squirm away from him.

Because you wanted this, didn’t you?

“You’ve been begging for it.” He says with a heavy breath. A groan mixed somewhere in there, you’re sure of it but can’t decipher it fully with how you sound. How the back of your hand is covered in your own drool and bite marks from trying to muffle the moans and whines coming from your mouth.

There’s a rock under your knee that has left an imprint into your bone, has cut the skin with how your body is moving. If you focus on it hard enough, you may even feel a trickle of blood. Or the indents of stone and caked on dirt on your elbows.

But all you can feel—all you can hear, sense, smell—is Mills and what he’s doing to you. What he’s doing to your body and how you never want him to stop. Never want to go back to the time when the two of you pretended there was nothing there.

The thrusting of his hips imprinted on your nerve endings, and you can’t imagine a time, a moment, or a place where you don’t want him to bend you over something and take you. Have you.

“Who knew all you needed was my cock to have you so compliant.” Mills grabs the back of your neck. His grip just as rough and embossed as the fingers at your hips. The weight of his chest drapes over you in a way that has you pushed further into the ground and your ass higher in the air, shoving his cock to the hilt, a cry falling from your lips. His name coated in a pleading whimper.

“Next time you’re not listening to me, all I’ll have to do is fuck you, huh? Bend you over and fuck you until you’re ready to admit who’s in charge here.”

There’s some part of your psyche that wants to fight against this. That wants to throw his words back in his face with something snide and angry, but you’re fucking pudy between his fingers, and he’s molding you into a perfect compliant hole for him.

Into someone who wants to follow his orders just as long as they get his cock in return.

But you still open your mouth to try to tell him just as much. To ask him to fuck you harder or agree with him, you’re not sure because it dies in your throat.

The words fall to the pit of your stomach as the both of you stop in place as your body feels the soft rumble of something moving outside of the cave. The rustling of trees, rocks, and branches being stepped on.

“Mills,” you murmur his name. Soft enough for him to hear but apparently too loud for his liking as he shushes you. His hot breath against your ear, his hands maneuvering your legs so they’re underneath him now as he lays on top of you. The massive width of his chest makes you feel engulfed in him.

His hair against your cheek, his breath held in his lungs just like your own.

You try to listen. Try to hear anything approaching, growing closer to your indisposed state. The two of you not in a position to move as quickly as you should to protect yourselves. Mills not seeming to be as on edge as you are, the faith he has in himself to grab his gun quickly enough if whatever is outside moves in closer, is almost aggravating.

Your mouth parts to tell him this, to push him off of you so the both of you won’t die while he’s still hard inside of you.

But instead of an argument, a gasp falls from your lips as you feel Mills rock his hips against you. The tip of his cock pulled back to your entrance only to be thrust back in slow, and agonizingly sharp all in one quick rock.

“Mi-” his palm presses against your mouth, silencing you.

“Shhh,” he whispers against your ear. “Can’t tell you how long I’ve been needing this, to fuck you.” His heavy breath and the deep timber of his tone as he tries to keep quiet, as he speaks the words for only you to hear, to know, and to feel, wash over your spine and lay achinly between your thighs where the shallow rock of his hips against your ass has your nailbeds housing rockbed as you try not to become a sobbing mess behind his hand. “You feel s’fucking good.”

And if the two of you were to die like this; with Mills rutting against you, his cock stretching you, his deep breaths and praises against your ear, your slick coating his length as you come, and his come leaking from you—leaving your pussy a warm and sticky mess as he continues to thrust inside of you even after the fact, as if he’s trying to keep all he can inside of you—then so be it.

You’d die happy.

#commander mills x reader #commander mills smut #commander mills x you #adam driver smut #adam driver x reader #commander mills one shot #commander mills fic #commander mills #adam driver fanfiction #adam driver characters #adam driver fic #65 movie #thots !

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bellakenobi · 6 months ago

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Tutorial: Renumbering Shoes/Necklaces Meshes to avoid conflicts and explosions

First of all, a huge thanks to people at MTS and to @virtual-hugs who taught me how to do it at the Creators Cave!

Also sorry for taking so long to write this! It's because I kinda struggle to write in english 😬

What will you need:

S3PE

Mesh Toolkit

Your shoe/necklace/accessory package ready, so you won't need to go back to TSRW to tweak something. This should be the last step on your CC creation workflow!

First, why does this happen?

Each CAS part has a vertices ID range, and when two parts with morphs have vertices containing the same ID, conflict happens and this is what make some meshes to explode. And this tends to happen when we put high poly shoes with morphed high poly necklaces because the shoes verts ID range is too low. Shoes verts ID starts at 30000, and accessories starts at 31500. In the pícture below there's the information provided by the Hint button at Mesh Toolkit with all the verts IDs, but it erroneusly says that accessories start a 0.

With all that said, we can try to renumber these parts verts to a different IDs to try to bypass that.

But let's go to the tutorial!

Again, your shoe/necklace package should be ready to do this, so you won't need to go back to your project in TSRW!

For this tutorial, I'll be using Arltos 109, converted by @rollo-rolls. You can do this tutorial with any CC high poly shoes/necklace, just please respect the creators TOU and do not upload it.

Note how there are tiny gaps showing when the shoes are worn with necklace! In this picture they quite imperceptible, but with some shoes/necklaces more distracting distortions might occur.

👠Step 1:

Open Mesh Toolkit, click on Package Tools tab, and in the Name Those Files tab open your package. Click on Add names, and then type a unique name for the CC part you're working on and save it. Here's what I named mine:

👠Step 2:

Open your package on S3PE, and select the LOD1 (or the LOD0, if you're working with some accessory that might have it) GEOM plus the four BGEOs (they're the morphs) and export them to a folder (just click on it with the right button, and select Export > To file...)

(see? this is why we added the names ^^)

👠Step 3:

Back in Mesh Toolkit, go to the GEOM Tools tab, then to [Re]Number Meshes tab. There, open your base GEOM mesh and BGEOs morphs accordingly.

In the "Number to start with" box, type the number which you want to start the verts ID. I'm usually going with 57000 for shoes, and with around 40000 for necklaces (so they won't conflict with old shoes that aren't renumbered).

Click on Renumber and Save. When asked, select the according number for the LOD you're working with (in this case is 1, but again, if you're working with LOD0, then select 0), and click in Continue.

Then the program will prompt you to save the renumbered mesh and morphs. It's good to create a new sub-folder for them to avoid any confusion.

These are the files we get. LOD1 is my base mesh, and the others are the morphs.

👠Step 4:

Go back to your package on S3PE. Right click on the GEOM mesh you exported before, then click on Replace, and select your new base mesh. Save and close your package.

👠Step 5:

Go back to Mesh Toolkit. Go to the Package Tools tab, and then to the Add Morphs to Clothing/Hair tab, and open your package.

Tick "Use GEOM morph meshes", untick "Change morph blend TGI".

Then tick the morph you will add to the package, and then in the according box (in my case,LOD1 box, but again, if you're working with a LOD0, put it in the LOD0 box) open your new morph.

Then click on "Add morph to package". A box confirming the action will pop-up.

Repeat this step with the other morphs, reminding always to tick the according morph or otherwise you might make some mistake (as adding a fit morph in the place of the fat one).

After you finished, save your package (either the current one, or save as new package).

👠Step 6:

Now test it in game! If everything was done right, you should see no distortion in the shoes and necklaces. Also check if the morphs are working as intended, because sometimes we can make mistakes!

Remember that you'll won't be able to have both the old and the new altered package since they're still the same, we just replaced the meshes and morphs.

#sims 3 #sims 3 tutorial

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threepandas · 9 months ago

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Bad End: Pray

Faith should not be transactional. Bartered to the highest bidder and sold as the winds shift. Bought with miracles and blessings. Heaped upon powerful champions and gifted at the sweet words of avatars. Perhaps it is old fashioned of me. Or maybe it is "naive" as I have often been accused.

To be honest, I am just not used to The Divine being so active.

Perhaps it is loyalty. Perhaps it is... faith. I do not know. But I can not imagine being swayed from the Goddess I serve. Not when... unlike BEFORE? I can... can actually FEEL Her presence.

I still laugh in disbelief sometimes. In AWE. Can you even IMAGINE? Sitting there, head bowed in prayer, in that quiet little temple of nowhere special, and... while expecting NOTHING? Feeling... feeling love. A gentle, all encompassing, hand that picks you up without moving you. Cradles your soul like a beloved child.

There aren't really words to explain what it feels like. It's somewhere between talking in circles, poetry, and gibberish. But BEAUTIFUL. So utterly, utterly beautiful. I can not comprehend why anyone would ever turn their back on her. Could EVER be bought with showy trinkets and bits of gold. Party tricks.

I am an outlier, in that regard.

Only myself and the Elders remain.

No one comes. Not to worship, not for blessings or wisdom. Not even to rest from the rain. Our humble temple more quiet then it has ever been. There was always SOMEONE. We are, after all, a temple too our Lady the Nox Viatoris. Keeper of those who travel at night, in places of peril, or should the worst occur... their soul's too safe resting. (Also, several small and fluffy nocturnal animals!)

"Night" was rather loosely defined, too. It honestly meant any place of low lighting. So a deep valley or cave worked too. Under belly of a city. Sewer system. We had smugglers, on occasion. They were generous. Honestly quiet devote. And as long as they didn't break the tenets of Our Lady's teachings? Well... what Oddly Weathy Worshiper with Working Knowledge Of Sewer Systems!

It was a well known joke. Everyone ignored them.

But one by one... they stopped coming.

The locals who's families had worshipped here for generations. The merchants who always came "just in case". The smugglers who "could use a bit of luck". Random travelers, guided by our Lady to a place of safety. I began to hear scoffs, as I went into town, from the younger generations. Get "concerned hints" from aunties and uncles I had know all my life.

Fellow priestess started too... drift away.

First seeming distracted, praying more, then praying less, going for longer and longer walks, their ceremonial robes getting increasingly half-hearted, then... after the final, damning stage of "staring off towards town a lot"? They would leave. Some with excuses. Others with vitriol. Our home colder and colder for each one gone.

The Elders heart's were breaking. They were watching the slow death of the only home they had ever known and could do nothing to stop it. The temple was dying. The children they had raised, the little ones who were all but grandchildren, abandoning them without second thought or simple discussion. For some whispered promise of foreign gods.

But I? I intend to stay, no matter what.

I who had been born to travels that did not want me, here in this temple that DID. Loved by these walls and this Lady. Who was given a second chance when my first ended so abruptly. Who would walk with Her one day. Proudly and with love. This was my home. Even if I had to take care of it by myself, I WOULD.

Things in town grew... vitriolic. Tense. Like a simmering heat had spread across the street where once, cool water flowed. It lurked beneath the surface. Volatile and burning, as bright colors seem to spread like sickness across the town. They felt... aggressive, somehow. Those colors. As though anyone NOT wearing them must answer for the crime of it.

I had them pushed upon me.

Again and again.

"It's cheerful!" "Look how bright and sunny they are!" "You'll look GREAT!"

I served a night goddess. The brightest color I was allowed to wear was off white to represent the moon and stars. Night blooming flowers if I could find them and justify it. It wasn't a matter of PREFERENCE. They KNEW this. I could NOT wear their gifts. Not the clothes. Not the jewelry. Not the decorations. None of it. Especially not with...suns... on it.

It was then I did more then just suspect. As I held the most recent gift, pushed upon me by well meaning friends. Struggling to remain patient. The sun sewn into the cheerfully dyed fabric MOCKED and sneered. Gaudy and ugly to my eyes. I turned, back to the temple, the rest of my shopping forgotten.

It could wait.

When I returned? I showed the Elders what I had been handed. Elder Antilla going so pale she nearly fainted. It was all that they had feared. At last, one of the major players had decided to swallow our tiny region whole. We were nothing but a small regional faith. Our Lady a weak but kind Divine in the grand scheme of things. She took care of us.

Could not offer us miracles and silks, honey and splendor. But she could love us. Protect our souls and guide us. The stronger Gods? Oh, they could offer SO MUCH more. Tempt and sway away Her faithful. Starve her into nothingness as they strip her of power. Consume her, as they had so many others before.

We had been safe.

Because we were far away and of little interest, tucked away between mountains that lead to nowhere of strategic worth. Few people to even convert. But seems... our time had run out. One of them had come for us. And oh... oh how EASY it had been for them to pour their power and wealth into swaying our faithful away. Buying their souls for a pittance of power and a laugh.

We had to sit down.

The mood grim.

The Elders would not live much longer, I knew. Perhaps that was why they were ignored. That, or the other God knew they could not sway them. They certainly would not sway me. I refused. Even if I had to worship alone. Became some cultist in the woods. I would NOT leave Her.

I prayed.

The silence felt deafening. But at least I was not alone. My Lady's arms held me close. As though trying to shield me from the world. Shaking, tears of grief that left no marks, dropping one after another upon my hair and skin. Suddenly the arms around me tightened in alarm. Pulled, as though commanding me to stand. To be ready to run. There was FEAR in that action.

I was on my feet at once. Turning towards the open air of the entrance.

Up the road, old and worn with the passing feet of countless travelers, came the crisp step of expensive boot leather. The rustle of leaves, the chirping of birds, all of it, seemed to hush as the sound of footsteps got closer. As though nature itself was afraid to draw attention of whatever was coming.

It was the light that changed first. No longer coming from just above us, yet somehow? It still was. The mid-day's sun was bright, cheerful, yet perfectly ordinary. Natural in the way countless summer day's have been. But the light coming from up the path? Low and shifting like a lantern swings, in a way that can only be ORGANIC?

It BURNED.

The sort of light that purges all in its path. That blinds and maims and burns. So hot everything becomes cold, as nerve endings char away. Like the blinding light off winter snow. Pale and reaching. Hungry. Consuming. W...What WAS that? It was getting closer. I backed deeper into the temple. Towards my Lady's idol.

The hush grew louder and louder, in it's terrible absence of sound.

The light brighter, as whatever IT was, got closer.

My eyes could see no shadows, so it probably wasn't real light. It hurt to look at. Yet it didn't hurt in the way staring at bright lights SHOULD hurt. It was painful because it had... claws? Thorns. Jagged, dragging edges that ripped at the something in me that SAW.

I could See because I needed to See, I think.

She NEEDED me to know what stood before me was not merely a man.

And THAT? That is the form it took. The liar and thief. A burning monster at the threshold of my home. Dressed in the finest silks and satins stolen faith can buy, the jewels glinting from his belt enough to buy several small nations. THAT was not a man. It just looked like one. Wore the face of one.

High Priest? Champion?

Goddess help me, an Avatar?

They were enmeshed. Woven so tightly they were all but an extension of the Divine. And it BURNED. Bright, holy, and terrible. A Sun standing before the Moon's own temple, with purging fire in its heart.

"Hello, little Thing. You've been quite stubborn, haven't you?"

They didn't raise their voice, yet still my bones felt like they rattled in my skin. The few windows we had, shook. Light fixtures swayed. I... I was afraid. I would NOT cower, but oh, Lady, I was afraid. His voice felt like the desert sighing against my skin. The edge of a threat.

"I lay out treats and you do not come. I invite the town and you will not hear me. You brothers and sisters kneel at my feet, yet you? You spurn me, too give your loyalty away for nothing."

I watch as he casually reaches to the air to his side. As though accepting something offered from someone who is not there. A cigarette. He tucks it into his mouth and cups the end, his finger glowing brightly as he lights it.

He takes a drag then exhales.

Letting the smoke whisp, rudely, past the unspoken barrier between us and into the temple proper. It's scent mixes discordantly with the incense. Making what was once lovely a cloying and choking mess. I watch him smirk as he takes another drag. Send more smoke inside.

His disrespect is deliberate.

"What can the festering night give, that the loving embrace of the day can not give better?"

His smirk rolls into the mimicry of a laugh. The monster's head tilted as though to consider my reaction even as the empty sound echoes against the temple's walls. It has the depth of a laugh track. The warmth of one. How... HOW has this CREATURE fooled ANYONE? Destroyed us so utterly? It is cruel.

"Ah~ so THAT'S what it is, you precious little Thing." He whispers, somehow the most terrible sound he has made so far. The power of it drags against me covetously, lingering like hands. "True Faith, given freely. You really do love her so, don't you? That wretched, unworthy, Nothing. Little Thing~, you should love ME instead."

It ended in a croon. As though trying to entice me. But all I could hear was static. The pounding of my heart as fear released adrenaline into my body, bringing the world into hyperfocus. "Me"? My ears had not deceived me, right? That THING in mockery of man's form... said "me"?

Oh, Nox Viatoris, our Lady who guides us, on darkest paths in deepest night... h.. hold my soul with kindness. Walk with me, on this broken, troubled path. That I may not face it alone. I... I am scared.

That... That was An AVATAR.

The extension of the Divine upon this mortal world. Not nearly their full power, but even a fraction of the INFINTE? Is beyond mortal capacity to fight. Only Avatars could handle other Avatars. On rare occasions, Champions, should they band together. But I... I was just a priestess. A humble child of nowhere.

Oh Goddess.

I back up. My back hitting the alter. I... I was probably going to die here. Our faith, wiped from the face of the map. I finally understood. He had come to stomp, like crushing ants, on what few hold outs dared linger at the fringes of his domain. Sent his Avatar to convert and destroy.

Our home would be nothing but rubble, wouldn't it? Generations of faith, gone. Our history, burned before his uncaring purge. At... oh Goddess, dear Lady, at least I would walk that final time with her. Could return the kindness she had shown so many. He was going to kill her. Kill US.

I...I refused to let her die alone.

Against my back, I felt the cool warmth of my Lady, leaning against me. Her unseen arms around me in comfort. For me or herself, I could not tell. It did not matter. I stood taller. Head high, shoulders back, feet shoulders wide. Shaking, yes, but unwilling to cower.

If I died today, I would walk proudly with Nox Viatoris.

The smile had slipped from the Avatar's face as it blankly regarded the spot directly behind me. Like a puppet sliding back into default in that absence of commands. I briefly wondered... who had he been? The faithful man, who gave up his form? Who was hollowed out and USED? He was beautiful. Had he been asked?

Or had he had this terrible thing inflicted upon him?

I would never know.

"That's rather annoying, you useless little parasite. She and I were having a conversation." The puppet's, the AVATAR'S mouth, barely moved. "Can't you go check on those wastes of space of yours? The ones that you've only barely managed to keep? They should be dead soon, you'll need to do your job. I'll take Good Care~ of this bright little soul. Don't bother coming back."

"No need." Came the deceptively soft rasp of the high priest. His normally kind face colder then I had ever seen it. Fierce and determined as he lead the other elders from the where they had been meeting in the gardens. Had the Goddess called them? Or had they simply sensed something was wrong?

"I am afraid that although the temple is said to be open to all, that is not, in fact, strictly true. Those that come here with malicious intent are not welcome. Nor those who come to cause trouble, intent regardless. YOU have caused grief and pain here. We do not welcome you to these halls. Please go."

Elder Lilam was subtly pushing me towards the back of the group. Their eyes somber as they met mine. I... I did not cry. There would been time for such things later, I hoped. I nodded back. Understood. Went, softly, on quiet feet. Past the alter, into the back, down the main hall on swift but not running feet.

To the back, where the wanderers bags were. For those our Lady calls suddenly to travel. To wander the roads in search of lost travelers in need of aid. I grabbed more then my fair share of bags. I... I did not suspect I would be coming back. Then into the back gardens. Where we grew herbs and vegetables for the kitchen.

The front of the temple SHOOK.

A terrible burning light. Heat and death. I barely kept my feet under me. Broke into a sprint. Away from the only home I had ever known. The Elders I was certain our Lady now walked to their rest. Towards the mountains and forests I had explored all my life. I... I could only hope they would protect me.

In my chest, the mantle of High Priestess settled. Heavy and mournful with our Lady's grief. I would have to carry the weight. There was no one else now. They were gone. With her. They had done all they could.

Felt their sorrow, their love, and it was all I could do not to let my tears blind me.

I needed to see the path. Could not risk missteping even once.

Behind me, down further below, and now hidden by the trees, I heard the temple crash and shake. As it was torn apart. Pillar by pillar, room by room, lifetimes of love and memories were destroyed. The murals painted in my childhood were surely gone by now. The hand carved doors that had lasted for centuries. Paint splatters and embroideries from generations of youth who had grown to call that place home.

Gone.

All of us, gone.

I ran.

I ran and I HATED myself for running. What could I DO? What could I POSSIBLY hope to DO? All I had left was to survive. Too carry them forward. It hurt. Worse then any breaking bone or burning skin. I couldn't even cry. I... I didn't have the TIME.

I hit the tree line. Didn't dare go too much higher. Didn't know if Avatars could fucking fly. Didn't want to find out the hard way. So many things I did not do. Was there anything left I DID do? Was GOOD for?

There was.

The shadowed place between two mountains. Mid-day had past. Afternoon was meandering towards days end. It would only get darker from here. Ha ha... where was this? When we need it? Oh, I knew. The monster timed his arrival well. At the height of his power.

But this was MY house now.

He may be stronger then me? But that meant NOTHING. I did not need power here. I needed SUBTLETY. A whisp of nothingness of a breeze of shadows. I could feel him, slow and steady, arrogant in his assumptions, pursuing me. He really did know NOTHING about those he destroyed. We were beneath his notice.

I hope the hubris burns as he chokes on it.

I slip between the mountains, into that deep rift of a valley, more crack then anything, and... VANISH. I am One with the Night. A traveler on Her path. Safe in her care. Sideways and one step removed from reality, as I race forward. No longer stumbling over uneven rocks and clambering on unstable terrain, the path beneath my feet is soft and smooth. I grin, as far away, that bastard falters.

"Oh, you clever little Thing. I forgot you still had tricks. Amusing~"

"It won't keep you from me though, I WILL have you in the end. And you will worship ME. Look only upon ME. And you will be my favorite, I think. I am going to chase you down, little Thing. So go ahead and pray. It will do you no good."

"You are going to be MINE, beautiful in the sunlight. You have no choice."

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