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seriouslysnape · 3 years

Text

A Little Sensitivity

Sirius Black x Remus Lupin x James Potter x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Language, Sexual implications (very brief), Angst (kinda??), Fluff.

Word Count: 4,231

A/N: So this quite literally came to me in a dream a while ago and I hesitated to make an attempt at writing it, only because I typically don’t write for The Marauder Era. However, this idea has just been bouncing around the back of my head and I just can’t quite let it go.

“What do we always tell you when you’ve had a rough day?”

Sirius had always been more of the aggressive type.

He liked control, he liked having authority, and he certainly liked for things to go his way. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing. You were quite drawn to his confidence, unmistakable charm, and his rough-around-the-edges persona. His tempestuous personality was a really great thing when it came to the bedroom. It added a totally different type of arousal and impending pleasure that drove you absolutely wild. So, no, you didn’t hate Sirius’ approach to stuff in the slightest.

But sometimes you wished he was just a little more sensitive.

Remus and James surely had the whole tenderness and delicacy thing down pat. Of the three boys, Remus was by far the most compassionate when it came to you. James wasn’t too far behind, but sometimes it didn’t come as naturally to him. On top of this, James and Remus had a strong understanding that sex couldn’t fix everything.

Sirius didn’t quite share that same course of thinking. In Sirius’ mind, a rutted fucking could mend anything. He didn’t always see the good in actually just sitting down and having a conversation. Of course all three of them had their moments of belligerence and roughness, but with Sirius it seemed to be an overall constant.

So you were reluctant to ever seek him out for comfort.

Sirius wasn’t the most careful when it came to other people’s feelings. More often than not, he didn’t take into account that his actions and words could potentially hurt others. You had seen it mostly when you were in the sheets with the three of them and Sirius was fucking you way too hard or degrading you just a bit too severely. There had been more than one occasion where Remus or James had to be the middleman and tell Sirius that he was being too harsh on you...verbally or physically.

You never went to Sirius when you needed support. It wasn’t very often that you ever needed to confide to someone about something, but if there was something you needed help with or even if you just wanted to get something off of your chest, odds were that you’d choose Remus or James over Sirius. Sirius was absolutely oblivious to this, and as far as he knew, you knew that he was always a resource for you to utilize if necessary.

Make no mistake, you adored the three of them the way that they adored you. They were each their own person with different strengths, weaknesses, and approaches to obstacles that presented themselves. You admired their individuality and their differences. But as long as Sirius was the same hard-hearted guy, you’d seek your peace with James or Remus any day.

Most of the time, you tried to deal with your problems on your own. There weren’t many things that you couldn’t handle, but every once in a blue moon you’d have a bad day where you’d need some backup. Today just happened to be one of those days.

Remus had been holding you for a significant amount of time now, rocking you back and forth with his arms around you. You hadn’t spoken a single word since he had walked in and saw you curled up in a ball on his bed. He immediately knew something was wrong when you didn’t leap up to greet him, and the glaze of tears over your dazzling eyes were a giveaway too.

He had gently shaken you out of your confined position, which had prompted you to crawl into his lap silently and cling to him like he’d float away like a balloon if you let go of the string. Your head was buried in his shirt, refusing to move an inch.

Remus had been trying for the last hour to get you to say something. Anything. He tried asking you about your day, he offered you some of the snacks from his personal stash, and he had flat out asked you what was wrong multiple times. The only noises he could get out of you were your sniffles and the occasional heavy exhale that you would let out in an attempt to relieve the pressure of distress in your chest. Remus was at a loss.

James and Sirius came straggling in shortly after, stopping short when they saw your slumped frame and when they caught Remus’ concerned gaze. Remus’ back was pressed against the headboard with his legs folded in a butterfly position, keeping your legs firmly around his waist and your arms around his torso.

James and Sirius quietly approached the small dorm bed, sitting on the foot of the mattress to form a somewhat triangle.

“Hey, princess,” James said gingerly; “What’s the matter?”

You nuzzled your head further into Remus’ shirt, still remaining silent and still. The three young Gryffindors gave each other a look before Remus explained.

“She’s been like this for over an hour,” Remus stated; “Can’t seem to get a word out of her.”

James scooted closer so he could reach to put a hand on your shoulder, the cold metal of his rings sending a shiver through you.

“Talk to us, [Y/N]. We’re all right here,” James persuaded as softly as his voice could go; “Did something happen?”

You still didn’t offer any sort of reply, but you suddenly stirred and pulled away from Remus’ chest. The blotchiness and dampness of your cheeks as well as your bloodshot eyes were indicators that you were far more disturbed than they originally thought. James let out an affable, sympathetic hum when you turned to face him with open arms. He pulled you into his chest, your body wrapping around him the way that you had just previously been with Remus. You did rest your head on his shoulder this time, aphonic tears spilling down your face as you stared off into space.

Remus’ hand never left your back, continuing to rub in soothing circles while James left peppering kisses on the top of your head.

James and Remus were well aware that you sometimes had moments where you were on the verge of breaking down after a bad day, and usually you just needed some tender, loving care to help you feel better. You had never given Sirius the opportunity to ever see you in your more vulnerable and dependent moments, because you feared that he’d only make you feel worse. While neither of them had ever really talked to you about it, James and Remus both had an unspoken understanding that you purposefully didn’t allow Sirius to see you like this.

Because of this, Sirius just assumed that this was the first time something like this had ever happened.

“Don’t be a brat,” Sirius hissed; “Look at Prongs when he’s talking to you.”

Your stomach flipped at Sirius’ unaffectionate scold, and the first real sob escaped your throat. You were NOT in the mood for this at all. You couldn’t take his insensitivity today. Sirius scoffed and rolled his eyes at your behavior, thinking that you were just being difficult. He made an attempt at yanking your shoulder to force you to look at James, but James smacked Sirius’ hand away. He yelped at that, and you fell back into James in a chorus of pitiful cries.

“Knock it off, mate. Can’t you see that she’s really upset?” Remus growled as the tips of his ears went red.

This was one of the few times that Sirius Black was ever stunned to complete silence. The irritation on his features faded into a subtle worry and menial confusion. He was lost as to why Remus and James were acting like this was a normal occurrence.

Sirius couldn’t miss the way that you snuggled as close to James as you could possibly get. Your right arm fell from his torso, and your fingertips lazily dragged across Remus’ leg that was next to you. And the one thing that Sirius never wanted to be true was becoming evidently clear to him.

You wanted absolutely nothing to do with him.

“Remus...” You croaked out, your voice thick.

You flipped your head to the other side so you could look up at Remus from where your head was on James’ chest. James left more light kisses anywhere he could easily get to as Remus cocked his head slightly to look into your bleary eyes.

“What is it, lovebug?” He prompted, feeling encouraged that you had finally said something.

The weakness in your tone and the innocence of your voice made Sirius’ heart quicken, his hands fiddling nervously at his genuine hurt. He hadn’t meant to make you more upset than you already were.

“I had a bad day.” You whimpered, a fresh set of tears streaming down and making even more of a mess of your mascara.

James responded this time, carefully bringing your head into his hand so he could look directly at you. Sirius was watching everything, still dumbfounded with no clue about what was going on. All he knew was that you were acting like he wasn’t even there.

And that killed him.

“Why didn’t you say so sooner?” James asked you, but not at all in a bitter way.

Remus took your hand into his, pressing a kiss against your clammy skin as he listened to you.

“I didn’t want to bother you or Rem...” You admitted.

Sirius’ eyes widened in horror that you didn’t even include him. He felt that he had really fucked up now to have you this distanced from him.

“Hey, hey...” Remus piped back up, stroking his thumb over the back of your hand; “You never bother us. We want you to talk to us, pretty girl.”

James’ hands had moved to your waist, keeping you in his lap as he rubbed in indecipherable patterns.

“What do we always tell you when you’ve had a rough day?” James questioned.

His thumbs were warm on your cheeks as he wiped away the trails of wet mascara and the last of your tears. Sirius’ suspicions were confirmed now. Apparently this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, and he felt a bit hurt that you hadn’t ever come to him when you needed it. Sirius cared about you a lot. They all did. The fact that you trusted Remus and James more than you did him...it made him feel nothing short of terrible.

“Tomorrow’s a new day. One bad day doesn’t mean a bad life.” You recited the phrase that Remus and James used to remind you of on days like this.

“That’s right. Good girl.” Remus praised, leaning forward to kiss your temple.

Sirius’ silence hadn’t gone unnoticed. James and Remus felt bad for leaving him out, especially when the four of you made it a point for everyone to be up to speed on your relationship. Sirius had always been under the impression that this relationship had an exquisite balance. Generally speaking, he was the rough one, Remus was the softie, and James was somewhere in the middle.

Once he was assured that your crying was over, James made a suggestion.

“I think an evening in sounds awfully nice,” He claimed; “It’s Sirius’ night, flower.”

The boys rotated every day to ensure that everyone got their share of having you sleep in their bed with them. Sirius’ eyes brightened at the reminder that it was indeed his turn tonight to have you sleep in his bed, but your excitement didn’t match his at all. You shook your head vigorously, quickly leaping from James to Remus and ducking your head into his chest once more.

“No! I don’t want Sirius.” You whined, gripping the material of Remus’ shirt until your knuckles went white.

James and Remus gave each other “uh-oh” looks before looking at Sirius, who’s face had drained of all color. The dam of guilt had abruptly bursted into every part of himself at your simple, yet gut wrenching sentence. Sirius felt the worst he had ever felt right now. Whatever he had done or said had made you this resistant of him must have really done a number on you. He could tell that this wasn’t just due to his snide comments when he had first arrived. This was something that had built up over time.

Sirius couldn’t stand to stay silent anymore.

He very, very, VERY slowly reached out for you. His hand found the small of your back, and he was a teeny bit relieved that you didn’t completely shy away.

“Come here, baby girl...” Sirius requested in the gentlest voice he could make; “Please?”

The shake of your head this time wasn’t as firm, but still got the point across very clearly. You wouldn’t even look at Sirius, your eyes darting back and forth between James and Remus when you lifted your head again.

“I want to sleep with you or James.” You pleaded, looking up at Remus.

“You slept with me last night.” Remus pointed out.

“And my night isn’t until tomorrow.” James added.

A noise of disapproval was heard from you. You were adamant about this. Sirius didn’t know what to do. He was afraid of saying the wrong thing. James and Remus were in control of the situation, and they needed to get you to see how badly you were making Sirius feel.

“That wouldn’t be very fair to Padfoot, would it?” James questioned once you were looking at him again; “Why don’t you want to be with him?”

Without even sparing him a passing glance, and without missing a beat, you responded.

“Sirius hates me.”

All the air in the boys’ dormitory room seemed to be sucked out in one synchronized inhale. Now, James and Remus were the ones who were shocked to silence. He didn’t think it was possible, but Sirius’ face went even more ghostly white. He swore that his heart stopped beating for a solid five seconds. His lips parted in surprise, and his brows furrowed in pleading.This was possibly the worst thing that had ever been said to him.

Sirius adored you.

Sirius wanted you.

Sirius loved you.

There wasn’t an ounce, fiber, or drop of hatred in his being for you. Just like James and Remus, his heart beat with a purpose of living to be with you every day. He was appalled that those words had just come out of your mouth, and it was even worse that he knew that you had meant it.

“Darling, I do NOT hate you.” Sirius stated firmly, but truthfully.

You still addressed the other two boys, acting like Sirius wasn’t even in the room.

“He doesn’t kiss me like Remy does. He doesn’t hold me like James,” You explained; “I don’t even bother telling him stuff because he won’t care.”

Sirius was overwhelmed at your confession. He had never once had the thought cross his mind that he hated you. Sirius was kicking himself for being so stupid. You were his world, his brightest star in the night sky, and yet he had made you feel this way?

He was beyond angry with himself.

“Listen to us. Sirius doesn’t hate you.” James remarked.

“Sirius could never hate you,” Remus continued; “He’s just not as sensitive as you’re used to.”

Sirius made a silent vow that very second that he’d learn to be sensitive if that’s what it took. He wasn’t exactly sure what being sensitive entailed, but he would sure as hell learn.

You didn’t act convinced, shifting away from Sirius’ hand until he could reach you comfortably. It was something you had been thinking about in the last few weeks. Sirius only seemed to really show care for you when he was fucking you or sucking you out or any form of sex. He only seemed to care when sex was involved. And you knew damn well that was lust and not love.

The difference with James and Remus was that they showed their love outside of the bedroom. Remus would hold hands with you in the corridors, James would whisper sweet nothings in your ear in the middle of the classes you had together, Remus let you wear his shirts to bed, James would take you out on dates on the Quidditch field. They both were excellent when it came to having heartfelt conversations and were even better listeners.

Sirius just didn’t ever make an effort to show his adoration.

That didn’t mean that he didn’t love you. Quite the opposite, in fact. Sirius wasn’t a romantic. He didn’t know how to show his love for you outside of dirty scenarios and love making. Sex was great and all, but there needed to be a fine balance.

James and Remus didn’t know that was how you felt. They felt sorry for Sirius, because they knew all too well that Sirius surely didn’t hate you.

Sirius was beginning to panic. He had never struggled to find the words to say to you. He didn’t want to lose you over this. All he knew to do was to let you know (over and over again if he had to) that he didn’t hate you.

“Please, just...come here.” Sirius begged, opening his shaky arms.

You didn’t want to look at him. You knew if you saw his face then you’d feel remorseful about what you said, even if you had meant it. You craned your head to look up at Remus, who gave a reassuring smile.

“Go on, love.” He encouraged.

You peeled away from Remus, giving James an uneasy look before glacially crawling over to Sirius. You sat in his lap, hesitantly wrapping around him the same exact way. He couldn’t stop the sigh of alleviation at the sensation of you in his arms. Your ear was pressed against his chest, and you could hear the fast thumping of his heart beat. His cheek rested on top of your head, his hands running over your back the way Remus’ had done.

“Oh, baby...I don’t hate you. I’ve never hated you. I never will hate you,” Sirius proclaimed softly; “I’m sorry for ever making you think otherwise.”

You were beginning to feel lightened at his words, but you still weren’t sure. You cuddled in closer, embracing the way he was holding you like he never had before.

“I know I’m a little...mean sometimes. I don’t mean to be,” He admitted; “I know Remus and James probably treat you a lot better than I do, but it’s not because I don’t care about you.”

Surprised wasn’t even close to the right way to describe how Sirius’ heartened confession was making you feel. This was a whole different person as far as you were concerned.

“I want you to see that I care about you,” He finished; “I guess I have a lot to learn from these two, huh?”

The lift of your head to look at him sent a jolt of joy through Sirius that he didn’t have to ask you to. A newfound glimmer was shining in your eyes.

“You’d do that for me?” You queried.

Sirius let out a chuckle that was a mixture of relief and slight amusement. He kissed your forehead tenderly, something that he NEVER did.

“For you, I’ll do anything.”

James and Remus felt a sense of pride for Sirius. Sure, Sirius could be a little cold hearted, but he was really a nice guy deep down. He just needed help learning how to show it, and they were glad that he could see it. Sirius took another minute or so to keep you close, never letting you stray too far until James spoke up.

“Why don’t you go in the bathroom and get ready for a bath, sweet girl?” James recommended; “It’s getting late.”

You gave a simple nod of your head, breaking away from Sirius and padding off into the bathroom to get ready for bed. You left the three of them sitting on Remus’ bed, still a touch rattled by what had happened. The sound of the water running from the tub was suddenly heard, drowning out their conversation from your ears.

“So...uh, what do the two of you normally do to cheer her up?” Sirius acquired, not even sure where to begin.

Remus gave a triumphant smirk.

“I’ll usually wash her hair and get her clean so she feels physically better, so I’d start there. Then I just let her talk about whatever’s bugging her. Sometimes I’ll feed her if she’s hungry.” Remus remarked.

“The key is keeping her comfortable and easy. Keep her wrapped up and warm. Just be there for her really,” James advised; “She’s easy to please.”

Sirius nodded. He didn’t realize that he hadn’t even been doing the bare minimum. He felt more and more guilty with each minute that passed. James and Remus were more than happy to step back for the night and let Sirius have his time with you. They knew he needed it.

Sirius trailed after you into the bathroom, almost laughing at the way you were already sunken to your nose in a warm bubble bath. You watched him with curiosity, since you had expected Remus to come in after you instead of him. Sirius kneeled by the tub, spotting the bottle of shampoo that you always used (and that he loved the smell of).

You almost didn’t believe it when he began to wash your hair. His fingertips scratched at your scalp in a heavenly way as he worked the soap into your head. Your eyelashes fluttered whenever he hit a particularly good spot with his hands. You had almost offered for him to join you, but you figured he needed to take slow steps, so you held off on it. Sirius had been nervous at first, but now he was enjoying doing this. He couldn’t explain the feeling that came over him at the thought of making you feel this relaxed.

He was starting to see how important sensitivity was.

Once you were fresh and clean, he helped you from the tub and dried you off, leaving a kiss on your damp skin every so often. He was practically doing everything you usually did in your nighttime routine. He brushed your hair, he dressed you, he rubbed your favorite lotion on your legs with his calloused hands. You drew the line at him brushing your teeth though, which he was fine with.

It had been a lengthy amount of time when the two of you exited the bathroom. Sirius had done everything that he thought he could for the night...or so he thought. A wave of disappointment crashed over him when he remembered that you wouldn’t be sleeping with him tonight. Even if things were somewhat on the right path to forgiveness, he understood if you still wanted to bunk with James or Remus.

James and Remus were already in their beds, trying not to be too obvious as they watched Sirius’ encounters with you. Sirius made his way to his own bed, but was pleasantly surprised when you followed suit. You looked at him expectantly, a small smile and glowing eyes. Sirius’ felt his heart take a lunge when he figured out you were waiting for an invitation. He pulled the covers back, motioning towards the mattress.

“Do you want to...”

Before he could finish the thought, you sprang into his bed and curled up against his array of pillows. Remus and James gave each other victorious looks. They felt like they had successfully done their job for the night. Sirius crawled in after you, a bit unsure what to do next. Normally, you and Sirius didn’t exactly cuddle the way you did with James and Remus. Sirius didn’t know what you liked or didn’t like as far as sleeping went.

He decided to just go with his gut and what felt right. He draped the covers over you first, making sure you were warm like James had said. He pulled you into his chest, nudging your knees apart to allow his leg to intertwine with yours. Sirius’ felt his chest swell when you came in flush to him, snuggling up to him like he was the most important person in the world.

Sirius was also starting to see how much he had been missing out on.

“I’m not really ready to go to sleep yet,” You said, looking into his face that was just centimeters from yours; “But if you are I can-”

“No, no. I want to stay up with you.” Sirius cut you off with a grin.

He didn’t miss the stars that danced over your irises. He had never really taken the time to study your features like this.

Your eyes. Your cheeks. Your nose. Your lips. You were absolute perfection on Earth.

And he had been missing it.

“What do you want to do?” You asked, feeling that pit of doom that was expecting him to say something related to sex.

But for once, he didn’t want that.

He left a sweet kiss on your lips, a rush of warmth overcoming him. He wanted to see you. He wanted to hear you. He wanted to be with you.

And he’d be a damn fool to ever take you for granted again.

“Why don’t you start by telling me all about your day?”

#sirius black #remus lupin #james potter #the marauders #marauders era one shot #marauders era fic #james potter x fem!reader #remus lupin x female reader #sirius black x fem!reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #the marauders x reader #sirius black oneshot #remus lupin oneshot #james potters oneshot #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction

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yinses · 3 years

Text

limited

| you had to remind yourself that he was only a man |

gojo satoru

raing: 18+

a/n: telling myself i wouldn’t notice how repetitive this header looked if i would just write about someone else. happy gojo eye animation day, everybody!

the fabric was far too big for you. it was expected as such giving that the black band was intended for gojo and not you. even as he tucked the extra folds behind your head, a simple incline of your head inched out his progress and threatened to drag the entire band down again. a strip more pliable to adjustment would have been better.

and your lips part to tell him as such.

“oh, but that would be too easy, honey. here, let me fix that for you.”

then he goes about pleating the the blindfold back into a pseudo sense of security.

this was a different form of bondage. the verbal kind that he adored.

there weren't any restraints for you to fight. nothing to distract yourself through effort while still remaining in compliance with his intentions.

the only thing binding you was his word and this flimsy blindfold.

though ‘flimsy’ seemed like the wrong word to describe the fabric that withheld the six eyes.

from this perspective it didn’t seem like much. light still crept in around the edges only plunging you into a semi-darkness. if you strained enough you could just make out the shadow of his figure.

that’s what he wanted you to believe as his voice vibrated against your ear.

“m’sure you’ll have no problem being good for me. “

a soft gasp left you as you registered the difference in expectation vs reality. was it a trick of light? you thought he might have been in front but perhaps he was behind the whole time.

the air remained stagnant and curse free to your knowledge. but this was gojo satoru.

you shiver when he chuckles in your opposite ear.

“and you’re not going to use limitless?”

gojo sounds almost patronizing as his tongue catches the edge of your jaw. “i promise it wont be more than you can handle, baby.”

it takes effort to control your breathing as you try to grasp at the fraying threads of control. he said he wasn’t using his technique but he had to be using something. it as impossible for you to feel him but not his presence. the bed lacked his additional weight, the only indentions molding around your body.

it was dizzying to think about as his fingertips traced your jaw before cupping the curve.

gojo pressed a sensually slow kiss against your lips.

“now then where to start…”

it was the anxiousness that he fed on, that you knew. he would watch from the bottom as you rode the roller coaster of anticipation all the way to the top. except with gojo you never really reached the peak. there would be twists and curves along the way but you never stopped ascending.

constantly waiting for the drop.

the jolt was more from the chill than the sudden action as his hands traced the path down your waist to hips. but the movement was enough to shift the blindfold just below your brow.

gojo tsks as his thumb draws circles against the inside of your thigh, resting at the cleft of your legs where he delivers a sharp pinch with his forefinger. closing your eyes tighter under the fabric, you steeled yourself to resist recoiling as you hissed through your teeth.

“toru…”

his lips met your temple.

“sweetheart…” he sang back. “ i won’t fix this again.”

his tone was sweet but the edging command levied more into the situation. his touch was firmer than before as he secured the blindfold again to its rightful place.

the next kiss was at your shoulder.

but the swipe of his tongue?

you suppressed a small whine of confusion as the appendage outlines the edge of your panties. the wet gesture was followed by the trail of his finger along the warm slick of your sex.

there was nothing stopping you from arching into the touch. no explicit directive. as far as gojo was concerned, you could squirm all you wanted as long as it didn’t disrupt the blindfold.

a cruel allowance.

he snatched your breath from your breast as his touch seemed to come from behind to cup your mounds. this touch was generous as the close proximity allowed you to press back without sacrificing much leverage.

“fucking you is fun...but this.”

it was a trap. a pleasurable deflection to lower your guard as he sunk to fingers to the knuckle. you kicked your leg out in reflex, hoping to catch something- anything, but were met with absence.

“if only you could see yourself. so beautiful, baby.”

if only you could see him. glimpse the sky hidden away in those pools. he told you he wouldn’t use his curse but you knew it was too inherent to keep it completely at bay. had it not been, the blindfold would never exist.

“that was so close too. i thought you were going to lose it again.”

you could hear it. the wide grin in his tone as his fingers continued to stroke, prod and fiddle within you. his thumb was employed to the mix, slowly rocking back and forth across your clit.

the hand squeezing at your backside reminded you of how you’d lost count of how many hands your boyfriend possessed.

surely onto two like any other normal man.

except gojo was far beyond that limited scope.

somewhere to your left, gojo hummed in a way that visualized a thoughtful expression. the hand at your rear moved out of unison to the gesture between your thighs only furthering the disarray of your illusion.

“what do you want, pumpkin? to stay like this or are you already greedy for my cock. perhaps you want it all?”

it was overwhelming to think about. his touch seemingly everywhere yet plausibly not. he was making you feel outside of physical touch that you knew. though the technique that was applied was lost to you.

gojo laughed under his breath. he could probably see the cogs of your mind turning, trying to grasp what you weren’t meant to hold. the man thrived on being unpredictable and you were a breeding ground for his own vices.

this time you felt it. the way he pulled his hand away, but the sensation was multiplied as each touch left you at once. the question of which was real was answered as you listened to the wet sounds of him cleaning his fingers with his mouth.

gojo was shameless as he left nothing to the imagination.

“the blindfold hardly budged this time. what a good girl. i suppose you’ll need a reward now. “

your noise of affirmant came as a broken squeak the moment gojo’s tongue lapped against your clothed core. he didn’t stop there, sloppily wedging himself under the elastic to nose his way into your core. you could feel the apple of his cheek against your apex and the corner of his mouth resting at your labia.

somehow making the process that much harder for himself transferred to you. the veins in your neck had to be a visual spectacle as you resisted the urge to turn and stuff your face into the pillow.

its unfair yet so deliciously forgiving. but you need something. the sheets clenched under your fists do nothing to stabilize your yearnings.

you want to be good for him.

truly.

but you just need-

“hm, you’re really struggling, huh? i spoil you too much.”

you don’t know when your arm lifted or how gojo’s head came to settle under your fingertips. but those are questions to go unanswered as you card your fingers through his hair and lift your hips to grind friction against your sex.

something unhinged leaves your lips as he closes his mouth on a kiss with underlying suction. the hold on his hair is the leverage you needed to bring you back away from the bed as you shudder down your spine.

your orgasm is resting at its peak, so pliable that you can feel.

but you can also see. just barely to the right of the slope of your nose.

it brings clarity to the fact that gojo does in fact only have two hands. both now preoccupied with tugging your undergarments down your legs. the glimpse of vision was also just wide enough for you to lock gazes with your bemused boyfriend.

the twinkle in his eyes coupled with the sharp grin against your cunt did not match well with the disappointment weighing on his tone.

“oh? perhaps i was too generous? just what am i going to do with you now, sweet girl?”

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #Jujutsu Kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo sins #reposting bc i broke the old one

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sif-the-tsunami · 3 years

Text

As much as I love the kink and smut that comes out with Henry being dominant, I also love the idea with him being with a soft dominant service top of a woman. Also, I should have been asleep instead I wrote this.

It starts out with a little bit of playful banter. She is clearly much more petite than Henry, but that doesn't stop her from jokingly inviting him to sit on her lap one day.

She smiles and tells him "that's my good man," when he finally takes her up on it. Granted he's mostly sitting on the arm of the chair. She tenderly pats his knee. And somewhere in his brain, the praise kink is activated.

She is generous with her compliments. "I can tell you practiced, your form is great today." "It was so thoughtful of you to hold that for me, thank you." "Oh, that idea is brilliant! Henry, you are marvelous." "You know what, you are right, the Ptolemaic lineage was probably more inbred than a sandwich. Thank you for reminding me of that." "Hatshepsut would make for an fasinating character study, I'm glad you said something."

He is constantly chasing the high he got from that first time. When they finally have the courage to tell each other how they feel, he tells her that he would do whatever she wanted if it meant that she would tell him that he's her man, and that he doesn't quite get it but something about her makes him want to work for it. That sometimes the happiest he's felt is when he lays his head on her lap, and drifts off into a peaceful sleep as she combs her fingers in his hair as she reads her book.

She has no problem stitching the buttons back on his shirt or the side seams back together because she wants her man to look as handsome as possible. She will sometimes get the next size up and tailor it to him so the buttons don't pop off. She does the cooking so its one less thing he worries about, not because its expected. He comes home after a bad day, she knows when its time to bring out the whiskey and kneel between his knees giving him the kind of oral he's only ever seen in porn.

"What did I do to deserve this?" He'll ask her.

"You've been a good boy. Good boys get good head." She responds.

The sex, my god, the sex is two people trying their damnedest to please the other. Henry wants her as often as possible, and she loves watching him writhing under her touch. She tells him how good he feels, how no one else has ever made her cum like he has, that he has a beautiful cock. One day, he is on top of her, making love to her in deep passionate strokes. Her legs are wrapped around his waist, back arching in bliss, when she does something she never has before. Her hand gently but firmly touches his neck. She puts a little pressure on either side of his throat and he embraces this tender act of making him hers. In loving trust, he leans into it. He gives himself to her entirely.

"You like my hand there, Henry. Don't just grunt at me, osito, use your words. Oh, you have the most beautiful throat, my sweetheart."

He doesn't relinquish control lightly.

The next time she put her hand on his throat she tell him not to be gentle with her. His thrusts are primal, he's afraid he's going to hurt her delicate body, but she can take it. The letting loose was just as much for her as it was for him. He slows down for a second to catch his breath, she just moves her thumb back and forth on his jaw. He grabs her hand, and starts kissing her palm. With each kiss he goes in deeply, causing her to gasp. He loves how her hand feels on his neck.

When he's asked to grow a beard for another film, she will occasionally run her fingers through it and pull him down to her for kisses. He ends up keeping the beard a little longer than intended. He starts getting bolder with his submission to her.

But its not all sunshine and rainbows. One day his stubbornness gets the best of him. The arguments are intense and he realizes when he goes too far but can't stop himself. He's only human.

Once the dust settles, he apologized to her, he realizes that even though she is loving and gentle with him, she is still not happy. That night when she comes to bed she tells him exactly what she wants.

"My love, I have an itch that needs scratching, but let's be honest with each other, you haven't exactly been my sweet pet today, have you? I want you to lay on the bed, you are going to keep your hands holding on to the headboard. You are not going to rock your hips, thrust or assist me in any way. I am going to suck your dick long enough to get you hard, then I'm going to use that beautiful cock of yours like my own personal sex toy. In fact, I even have a vibrator to speed things up for me. After I cum at least twice, I'll let you finish yourself off, but I will not help you, and you only have until I cum for a third time. Do you understand?"

Henry nods solemnly. He's never heard her talk to him like that and she might as well have thrown him across her lap and spanked him like the unruly shit he had been acting like earlier. He watches as she undresses herself. He was already naked and ready for bed. The sight of her caused him to start becoming engorged. She then licked and sucked on his manhood until he was fully erect. She then straddles his hips and eases herself onto him. With the vibrator in hand, she rides him, moaning and gasping. He want to hear her tell him how good feels. He loses control of himself for a moment, raising his hips to meet hers but she pulls herself away quickly in response. The first orgasm she has comes quickly. Her legs start trembling and her sweet walls clench onto him, pulsating. She gives herself a breather for a moment, then starts riding him again. The closer she gets to her peak, the less she moves on him, enjoying the waves of pleasure from her election assistant.

"Please, baby, let fuck you." He whimpers. "I'm sorry I was being difficult earlier."

"It wouldn't be a good punishment if I just gave in to you." She moans back at him.

"Please, I'll be better. I promise. Just let me put my hands on you. Fuck, I want to make you cum, not that fucking toy!"

"I'm so close again, Henry..." she says pulling roughly on one of her nipples. She then placed the vibrator on him where their bodies connected. She begins grinding against him, bouncing her hips up and down rhythmically. He grips the headboard until his knuckles are white.

"Please, oh fuck, you're so tight, please." He begs.

Finally the stars explode behind her eyes. Screaming out, she collapses on his chest. He wants to hold her so badly but he keeps his hands to himself. As she regains her composer, she slides off of him. He's painfully stiff and slick with her arousal.

"Alright, Henry," she gasps, trying to catch her breath. "I want you to cum for me."

She reclined back on the bed, he kneels between her thighs up right. He pulls her legs over the top of his so he has the best possible view of her still trembling sex. She moans for him while playing with her own nipples again. With all of her pleasure still on him, he uses his large hand to coax his own bliss out of himself.

"My love can I please touch you?" He asks again, voice shaking. She nods. He runs his free hand up her thigh, closing in on her center. He gently runs his thumb across her swollen, glistening, core. He stopped at her little love button with his thumb watching her body jerk. His hand moved to her waist like he was going to pull her close to him. The gasp she let out was what he needed to be pushed over the edge. His eyes close tightly.

"Mmm yes, baby, cum for me. Show me what I do to you." She encourages him. With a throaty loud groan, he cums across her abdomen. She then pulls him towards her to reward his own performance with a deeply loving kiss.

As they calm down for a moment, Henry looks into her eyes, playing with one of her breasts. "You know, my love, I don't think you've had the third one yet. I need to fix that."

He moves himself between her legs and begins to temp and tease more pleasure out of her sweet center.

*****

@littlefreya @achaoticaugust @oh-for-fic-sake @crimsonrae @dancingwendigo

This is what you get for all those smut bombs lol

#henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill smut #my apologies to henry cavill #fanfic #fem!dom #henry cavill

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haus-seeblick · 3 years

Text

Suptober Day 1! “Harvest”

My first ficlet for Suptober! Read under the cut :)

Pairing: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2,218

Tags: Fluff, Disaster Bi Dean Winchester, Daydreaming about hot farmers, Some suggestive language (and swearing), Angelic wheat harvest assistance, The Dom Brow makes an appearance, Sam Ships It, Mini Case Fic

On AO3 here.

“All right,” Dean announces as he stomps into the hospital room, trailing mud with every step. “You’re not gonna have a problem anymore, Randy.”

The man propped up on the hospital bed cushions glares at Dean from under bushy eyebrows. “Well, it’s about time,” he snaps. “First these-- these things terrorize my fields for weeks, then y’all show up and are so useless that they maim me after you’re already on the case, and now I’ve lost the prime window to harvest a year’s worth o’ growth ‘cause I’m laid up in this godforsaken facility. So don’t you tell me I ain’t gonna have a problem anymore.”

Dean sinks down onto the rickety plastic chair next to the bed, moving gingerly to avoid jostling his (probably) dislocated shoulder, courtesy of some extremely vengeful spirits. He fixes Randy with an even gaze.

“Man, I’m sorry about your leg. I am. The spirits had a wider range than we thought and we figured you’d be safe at the house.”

Randy snorts in obvious derision, his scruffy mustache fluttering comically. Dean presses on.

“But, we’ve put them to rest. Your great-grandparents aren’t gonna give you any more grief.” Even if the rest of your family did totally fuck them over.

He stands again, awkwardly, and pats Randy’s good knee. “Sorry about your harvest, though. Can anyone help out? Neighbors? Friends?”

Randy glowers. “I ain’t takin’ no charity.”

Dean quirks his lips and nods. “Right. Take it easy, Randy.” He leaves the still-grumbling farmer behind, following his own trail of mud back down the hallway. A tall janitor lurking around the corner sends him a death glare and Dean tries for an appropriately apologetic smile.

It’s been a real headache of a night.

The pair of spirits haunting Randy Johnson’s wheat fields ended up being way more pissed off than Sam, Dean, and Cas had anticipated. By the time Cas located the heavy brass key to the farmhouse that was apparently tethering the property-line-obsessed spirits to the material plane, Dean and Sam were long out of rock salt. In their retreat, they’d ended up waist-deep in a pebbly creek, splashing and wobbling as they beat off the screeching spirits with crowbars. Dean has an unfortunately-placed boulder to thank for his dislocated shoulder -- he went down hard and clumsy just as Cas reappeared next to the stream, the old key melting dramatically in the bright glow of his palm.

The spirits burned away in a shower of sparks, along with Dean’s dignity.

To top it all off, Dean drew the short straw to go tell Randy the case was closed, and he may have stomped off in a sulky huff before thinking of asking Cas or Sam to put his shoulder right.

Oh, well. At least it’s dealt with. One more night in their more-stained-than-usual motel room, and first thing in the morning they’ll get the hell outta Dodge (almost literally - they’re up in Osborne County).

Dean thinks of a bright July morning on the open road and sighs in relief.

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

He doesn’t get his wish.

“I just feel bad, Dean!” Sam protests as Dean gesticulates incredulously at him. (His shoulder was very pleasantly healed by Cas the night before, and if Dean noticed that Cas’ warm hands lingered a little longer on his skin than was technically necessary for a cursory dislocation repair, he didn’t mention it.)

“God, Sammy, yeah, it sucks about the guy’s leg, but maybe if he wasn’t such an asshole to everyone he knows, somebody’d help him out! It’s not-- it can’t be our problem.”

Sam crosses his arms stubbornly. “It’s not about Randy. His fields are part of a huge supply that feeds a ton of people. Do you want people to go hungry, Dean?”

Castiel chooses that moment to materialize directly next to Dean, his nose inches away from Dean’s cheek. He’s holding two steaming cups of coffee and Dean immediately grabs one. Cas squints and tilts his head. “Why does Dean want people to go hungry?”

“Oh my god.” Dean throws his free hand up. “Fine. Fucking fine. We’ll find someone who’s willing to plow the dude’s fields. That’ll be easy.”

Sam opens his big mouth, probably to say something about having faith in humanity, but Cas beats him to it. Still planted firmly in Dean’s bubble, he sends a puff of warm air against Dean’s face as he speaks.

“Oh. I can do it.”

Dean and Sam both look at him. Dean shuffles back a couple steps and wills his eyes away from the guy’s lips. He really spends too much time staring at them.

“Um--” Sam clears his throat. “You can harvest Randy’s wheat?”

“I can plow, yes.” Cas nods firmly. Dean’s first sip of coffee comes spraying back out. He pounds his chest and wheezes.

“Like-- like-- with a combine?”

Cas furrows his brow. “Is that a machine? No, I don’t require machinery. This is a very basic task.”

“Plowing,” Dean says weakly.

“Harvesting,” Cas corrects, tilting his chin down and narrowing his eyes. “Humans have been doing it for a very long time. I used to help, now and again. I can’t imagine the process has changed much.”

Sam slaps his thighs as he stands up from his bed. “Well! Look at that, Dean. Cas doesn’t want people to go hungry.”

Dean flips him off, but it lacks the usual heat.

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

An hour later, they find themselves on the edge of a vast, lazily undulating expanse of gold. They’d skirted the north edge of the field extensively while working the spirit case, since the activity was strongest there along the creek, but in his single-minded focus Dean hadn’t really paid much attention to the field itself.

It’s big. Like, squint-into-the-distance-and-you-can’t-see-the-end big.

“You’re really gonna plow all that?” Dean asks, glancing at Cas. The morning sun is turning the tips of Cas’ hair a chestnut gold.

“I will cut down the stalks, separate the grain from the chaff, and deposit the edible grain into a large truck, which apparently takes it where it needs to go,” Cas says matter-of-factly. “I visited Randy early this morning to make sure I knew which truck it was.”

Sam laughs. “Oh yeah? How’d good old Randy take that?”

“He seemed dubious,” Cas says. “And rude. I assured him that despite his unsavory attitude, he would come home to harvested fields.”

“Very angelic of you,” Sam remarks.

“So how’s this gonna go?” Dean lifts a hand to block out the steadily-rising sun. “You gonna be flapping back and forth? Probably not smart to let the locals clock an angel doing the harvest.”

Cas arches an eyebrow at him, somehow gazing down at Dean despite being an inch shorter. “I don’t flap, Dean. I may have wings, but their movement in the ether is beyond your comprehension.”

Dean rolls his eyes and turns his face away in a show of studying the field to the north, but mostly to conceal the flush of his cheeks in response to that eyebrow.

For Christ's sake, keep it together, Winchester.

“I can’t explain to you how it will look,” Cas continues, oblivious. “You’ll just have to watch. Anything you see will be for your eyes only. I guarantee no locals will ‘clock me.’”

Dean looks back just in time to see the tail end of the finger quotes. Cas is staring right at him, that damn eyebrow still up, a subtle challenge, daring Dean to make a move.

Maybe not so oblivious. Asshole.

Dean smiles sweetly and gestures at the wheat. “All right then. Have at it, buddy. Show us what you’ve got.”

With no further ado, Cas is gone. Dean’s left staring through the previously-Cas-occupied space at his brother, who’s grimacing with an air of great suffering.

“What?” Dean demands.

Sam sighs heavily and gazes out over the field. “You two are so weird.”

Dean’s about to respond with something really witty when Sam perks up and points into the distance. “Holy crap, look!”

Dean follows the path of Sam’s outstretched finger and his mouth drops open. On the horizon, at the far end of the field, there’s a cloud. No-- a mini tornado. A golden tornado. A… sparkly tornado?

“What the--” Dean cups his hands around his eyes like blinkers. Even with the glare of the sun blocked out, though, the tornado is just as bright -- a swirling, racing funnel criss-crossing the field way faster than a combine, or even Baby, could drive.

“Why is it-- what’s the sparkly stuff?”

Sam’s squinting too. “I think it’s the pieces of the stalks he’s separating? And they catch the light as they get tossed around.”

The tornado’s already halfway across the field, approaching them steadily. It’s about as tall as an oak tree, and as it gets closer Dean sees that Sam was right: thousands of little stalks and bits of grain and -- what had Cas called it? -- chaff are whirling and flitting amid the twisting golden dust of the tornado. The effect is a bit dizzying, kind of like that ocular migraine Dean had one time as a teenager, when an aura of tiny flashing spots obscured his vision, right there in his eye yet impossible to focus on.

He steps back instinctively, Sam mirroring his movement, when the tornado grows close to them. It whips past, blowing Dean’s jacket open, and where there was once chest-high golden grain, there’s now just dirt littered with aborted stalks.

“Damn,” Dean whispers. He’s seen Cas do all kinds of badass things, of course, but they’ve been more of the smiting and heavy-lifting variety. This is a new level of cool. In a farmer-y way. This, of course, leads Dean’s traitorous brain directly to images of worn flannel stretched tight over biceps; of a blade of hay dangling jauntily from chapped lips; of long, strong fingers gripping a pitchfork--

“--Dean!”

The pleasantly-evolving bubble bursts. Dean twitches as Sam elbows him in the ribs.

“Dude! Cas is done, come on.”

Dean blinks a few times to bring himself back to reality (a reality with wheat-harvesting angel tornados) and realizes that Sam’s heading north along the field to where a normal-sized, non-funnel-cloudy Cas is standing, brushing off his trenchcoat. Dean follows his brother and takes in the scene; the whole field really has been reduced to nothing -- just a flat, dappled expanse.

“Damn, Cas,” he says quietly as he reaches Cas’ side. His voice comes out strained and a little breathless. “That was some good plowing.”

“Thank you, Dean,” Can replies gravely. He tugs on his cuffs and some wheat dust puffs out. “It was an effective harvest. I disguised myself from mortal eyes -- including yours -- as I transported the grain to the truck, but I trust you saw the rest?”

Sam nods enthusiastically and launches straight into a barrage of questions about the physics and techniques and yadda yadda before Dean has to come up with a response. Yeah, I saw it. Yeah, it got me all tingly. That’s normal. He takes a few deliberate, slow breaths to calm the pounding in his chest.

Still tuning Sam out, he zeroes in on a single piece of wheat still stuck in Cas’ hair. It’s poking up toward the blue summer Kansas sky -- a tiny, trembling link between earth and heaven. Dean sidles up to Cas before he can overthink it. He slips his fingers into Cas’ wild, dark hair and plucks the wheat out.

He throws it on the ground. It belongs to the earth.

Sam falls silent with a choked-off laugh and Cas turns his trademark unblinking stare onto Dean. But this time there’s a slight crinkle to the edges of his eyes. A quirk of his lips.

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas says again. He reaches out and -- Dean stops breathing -- brushes another piece of wheat out of Dean’s collar. His warm fingers graze Dean’s throat and all Dean can do is watch the little stalk flutter to the ground.

Well. So much for a steady heartbeat.

“Hey, I’ve got stuff in my hair, too,” Sam announces, voice thick with amusement. “Anyone gonna help me out?”

Dean tears his eyes away from the enlightening piece of wheat and points a finger at Sam, leveling him with his sternest shut the fuck up face. He prays his cheeks aren’t flaming.

“If you need assistance, Sam--” Cas says, starting toward him.

“--He’s fine,” Dean interjects hastily. Maybe a little loudly. He coughs to cover it up. Smooth. “Let’s go. I wanna hit the road.”

Sam’s already jogging away before Dean’s done speaking. “I’ve still got the keys,” he calls over his shoulder. “I’ll warm up the car. You guys can catch up!”

Cas and Dean are left at the edge of the empty field. Dean rubs his neck and shuffles his feet, acutely aware of Cas’ piercing gaze. It’s nearly warmer than the morning sun. “Uh-- that was really cool, Cas. Thanks for letting us see it.”

“Of course, Dean,” Cas replies, measured and deep. “I enjoyed sharing that with you.”

Wow. All right. Dean needs to get moving or he’s going to explode. But not before filing that particular comment away for extensive mental perusal later, in the privacy of his bedroom.

He flashes a grin and punches Cas’ shoulder. “Come on, farmer angel. Let’s go home.”

#suptober21 #destiel #minific #i had fun with this #this is the first fic I'm ever posting y'all!#happy harvest

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cablesscutie · 3 years

Note

34. “I just want to be there for you.” Zutara, For the fluff prompt list please ☺️

Hello!! You sent me this a very long time ago and then my brain was bad and ground to a screeching halt, but I have been thinking about it this whole time! And now my brain has finally allowed me to make words again these past few weeks, so here it is:

PART 1 \\ PART 2

Even after seeing pictures of Zuko convinces Katara to tentatively agree to Ty Lee’s hairbrained scheme, she still tells herself that she has time to bail. If she really decides that she doesn’t need a date after all, she can just cancel on him and tell Aang her date had food poisoning or something. If worst comes to worst, she can claim that she has food poisoning too and escape the entire mortifying ordeal altogether. Zuko is just an option.

This is the constant refrain in her mind week after week as the date of the wedding approaches, and Katara gets somehow less enthusiastic about it with each passing day. She thinks it as she lets Suki shove her into a fitting room, laden with figure-hugging dresses. She thinks it as she scrolls quickly past Instagram posts counting down the days, politely liking them faster than she can process the sight of fairy lights and mason jars. She thinks it as she impulsively adds a leg waxing to her bi-monthly spa day with Toph. Zuko is just an option.

Just an option with arms that look like they would feel strong and secure around her, and a shy smile, and who’s sweet and playful with kids. Katara lets out a long, frustrated groan and presses her forehead to her desk, rolling it back and forth in a futile attempt to rub out the impending headache of a Friday afternoon. A moment later, she hears the telltale rattle of Suki’s office chair, and then her friend is rolling to a stop beside her.

“You good?” she asks, brushing aside Katara’s hair so she can see her face.

“No,” she sighs, annoyed.

“Is it the rehearsal dinner? Because if you don’t want to go, I can just say you got held late at work.”

“No, no. That’ll be...fine, probably. It’s this whole wedding date thing.”

“Oh do not tell me you’re still being all wishy-washy about it.”

“It just feels like a weird thing to do! I’m just going to show up at my ex’s wedding with this random dude? How will that look?”

“Um, probably like you’ve moved on? Which you have. Objectively. You even had a whole other relationship.”

“Really? Because I think it’ll look like I’m jealous and trying not to be.”

Suki fixes her with disbelieving eyebrows and a laugh. “Trust me, babe. Nobody is going to think that you’re the one that left that relationship pining. You were basically his mom. If this was Jet’s wedding...eh, maybe? But you tend to settle.”

Katara isn’t quite sure if Suki is trying to insult her or compliment her with that statement, and she isn’t sure if her kneejerk, “Hey!” is out of a desire to defend her judgement, or her past partners’ character. Regardless, she doesn’t have much after that to refute the point. Aang seems like a functional enough adult now, a few years out of college, but when they had dated, the “teen” in his nineteen years definitely showed. As for Jet, her much more recent cut, he was...vibing.

“Hon, you’re gonna be fine. I’ve heard Ty Lee and Mai talk about Zuko before, and he sounds like a decent guy. At worst, you have a meh date and escape some social awkwardness, but-” the upward tilt of Suki’s voice had Katara on edge, knowing what was coming next.

“Please, no -”

“- it could be good.”

“No, it can’t be.”

“Ty Lee seems really confident about you two, and you know she’s got a creepy good love radar. After all, she’s the one who convinced me not to block your brother when he slid into my DM’s. Even you told me to block him.”

“She does not have love radar. I love her, but the girl is an unstoppable meddler; she was bound to have a hit once,” Katara dismisses. It’s true that Sokka and Suki are adorable now, and perhaps evidence of the existence of soulmates, but Katara maintains that Ty Lee is a hopeless romantic who believes anything could be the start of an epic love story.

“Fine, be a cynic then. But you’ve already acknowledged that he’s hot, so just go to the wedding with him, and maybe finally rebound from Jet.”

“Hmm,” Katara hums noncommittally.

She’s something of a serial monogamist. She’d left her first real relationship with Aang intending on a summer fling to cleanse her palate before going back for her senior year. After a whirlwind month with the mature and worldly Jiang, she’d been looking into online classes, all but ready to move onto her houseboat and sail away into the sunset. Until Suki pointed out that it was an insane plan, and the ultimately parted ways as planned when Jiang set out to sea again. From there, she had fallen in with Jet as a friend with benefits to blow off steam through her last year without leaving herself open to distraction.

He wasn’t the kind of stable presence she could see herself settling down with, but wasn’t looking to be babied either. No, Jet was more of a feral creature. He knew he was dysfunctional and was fine with it, because function was the system and the system was bogus. Then, she got to know him, and realized that he kept people at a distance for much the same reason she was always pulling them too close. Suddenly, she had grand dreams of showing him the healing power of love, and both of them breaking free of their pain, never needing to fear being alone ever again. He cheated on her, and even as she was shouting at him, she’d known deep down that they had both just repeated their same bad habits all over again.

Now, there is Zuko. Zuko, with tragedy in his scarred eye, and sadness in his smile, but gentle hands on little legs resting on his shoulders. Katara thinks she could make many bad habits out of Zuko, and she is not too proud to admit that it terrifies her. Her stomach turns, and she thinks it might not even be a lie by the time she tells Zuko she’s suddenly too sick to attend the wedding.

The nausea gets worse at the rehearsal dinner, when she walks in to find Jet there, grinning at a bridesmaid. Suki hauls her over to Aang to give him a dressing-down for inviting him, and Katara is somehow reminded in the span of five minutes why she is extremely glad to be rid of both of them.

“I didn’t think it would be a problem!” Aang says, his usual defense. “And he is my friend - we go rock climbing together.”

“Small world,” Suki snarls, and Aang goes wide-eyed, leaning around her to look beseechingly at Katara.

“I swear, I didn’t think you were avoiding each other! After all, we’re exes, and it’s my wedding, but that’s not weird. So I figured you wouldn’t have a problem being in the same room as your other ex.”

Katara grits her teeth behind glossy lips that she forces into a smile, and despite Suki’s murder eyes and the voice in her head telling her not to - to swallow her embarrassment and tell the truth - she finds herself falling back on those old bad habits. “It’s okay, Aang. You had good intentions. We can be adults for one day.”

“Thank you so much Katara,” Aang gushes, lunging forward to wrap her in a hug that pins her arms briefly to her sides. “You’re the best!”

Suki shakes her head in disappointment as he bounds away. “You made your bed,” she reminds Katara. “Guess now you have to decide who to lie in it with.” She glides away to join Sokka at the bar, leaving Katara standing dazed and confused.

“Katara, hey,” an all too familiar voice greets her almost immediately after, and Katara closes her eyes. Suki totally hung her out to dry, and she can’t even be that mad because she’s right.

“Jet,” she says evenly, turning to face him. This shouldn’t be hard for her. While she doesn’t forgive him, she’s also very over him and understands that she’s an idiot for not making Aang ask him to leave. “How are you?”

“Not bad, not bad,” he says, bobbing his head. His clothes are formal but rumpled by disdain for their formality, an effect which once had a liquifying effect on Katara’s insides, but now just feels rude. “I was actually coming over to ask you the same thing,” he says, as though it is a profound inquiry and not the root of all small talk. She opens her mouth to offer a brusque reply and make an excuse to join Sokka and Suki at their table, but he knocks the wind out of her sails with his next words. “Ex’s wedding and all. Brutal.” He gives her a look that she is all to familiar with: his I-see-your-pain look. It was another thing about him that used to push all the right buttons on her, but now she just feels insulted at the presumption that she needs or wants his pity.

“Aang is actually a very dear friend,” she says, trying to sound as impenetrably chipper as possible. “Like a little brother.”

Jet is not deterred, leaning closer to her, his hand just brushing her elbow. “I feel bad about how things ended between us,” he says softly. “I should’ve done better by you.” Katara is momentarily stunned. Is she actually getting a sincere apology? “Which is why I think we should go to the wedding together. I just want to be there for you.”

It’s like a bucket of cold water down her spine, dousing both the fire of her anger and the tiny kindling warmth in her stomach. Katara pulls her shoulders back, straightening her spine, and snaps, “I already have someone to be there for me.”

Jet blinks and rears back a little. “Alright. I’ll, uh. Be looking forward to meeting them then.”

As he slinks away, she feels a moment of deep satisfaction. Only to nearly aspirate her sip of wine as she realizes she has officially painted herself into a corner. Zuko is coming to this wedding.

Thank you! If anyone wants to send me a line or prompt (from this list or your brain) I'll keep it going!

#zutara #zutara fic #my writing #ask game

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girlgrouptrash101 · 4 years

Text

Yeji (ITZY) - Attention

Request: “noah fence miss but ilysm the problem is reading ur yeji gf thingamajig got me,, feelin things is it possible for u to elaborate on her thing for thighs with a thigh riding scenario or ——”

Word Count: 1,367 Words

Warnings: this is smut!!! you have been warned :]

A/N: it’s been a lil while since i’ve written a smut fic so,,, here we go i guess

- C

Falling in love with a world famous idol really wasn’t in your life plan at all, but as soon as you laid eyes on Hwang Yeji, you were in love. The connection between you too was undeniable, sparks in the air every single time you touched. It was easy for anyone to see that yours and Yeji’s relationship was going to last, both of you were madly in love.

You knew dating an idol would be tough, and you were prepared to go through times of distance and separation to accommodate Yeji’s schedule. You’re her biggest fan, and you’d never, ever want to hold her back from her career. However, being so understanding still didn’t help with the longing you felt for your girlfriend. When you missed Yeji, you knew that nothing would fix that longing except attention from your girlfriend.

So, there you were, lying on the sofa, a pout on your face as you watched Yeji writing in her book of lyrics. She was trying to work on putting a new song together, humming melodies as she took notes, your eyes boring into her as you looked on from the couch. She had just wrapped up promotions for her last comeback with Itzy, and you hadn’t seen her in so long. All you wanted was attention – and you were going to get it from her, one way or another.

You got up, stretching as you walked towards Yeji. Your arms wrapped around her shoulders as you stood behind her chair, Yeji leaning back to kiss you on the cheek. She had a soft smile on her face, affectionately squeezing your arms once before looking back down at her notebook. You smirked, knowing that in mere minutes, her notes and melodies would be long forgotten, the only sound replaying in her head would be the soft, sweet moans of her name that will soon be falling from your lips.

You leaned down again. Kissing the shell of your girlfriend’s ear, you felt her tense up in your arms. Licking down to her love, the soft moan that came from your girlfriend’s mouth let you know that she was finally catching onto what you were up to. It was when your mouth moved below her ear, trailing down to her neck that Yeji felt it was time to take action. She stood up abruptly, the smirk on your face growing as you saw how dark her eyes had gotten.

Yeji bit her lip softly as you grabbed her collar, pulling her inviting lips to press against your own. You walked backwards towards your couch, Yeji’s lips never leaving yours for a moment. You giggled as Yeji’s legs hit the couch, causing her to fall down onto the soft cushion. You didn’t hesitate for a moment, moving to straddle your girlfriend, Yeji’s hands wrapping around your waist to pull you ever closer. Your hands threaded into Yejis’ hair as your lips connected again, breaths getting heavier as the desire clouded both of your minds.

Yeji’s teeth caught your lip, pulling it softly before releasing it with a pop. The moans you let out against her lips allowed Yeji to slip her tongue into your mouth, your girlfriend quickly dominating the kiss. Yeji;s hands dropped lower, cupping your ass and pulling you impossibly closer. Your hips began to rock against Yeji, grinding softly in an attempt to appease the growing wetness between your thighs.

Yeji pulled away for a second, her eyes boring int o your own as she pulled your shirt off quickly, hungrily initiating another kiss as soon as it was off. You could feel the goosebumps forming on your skin as Yeji’s hands began to rise, her fingertips roaming over your skin. Her hands soon found your bra clasp, skillfully unhooking it and pulling the material off your body. The brown eyed girl in front of you allowed her lips to move lower, biting and sucking at your neck. She smirked against your skin as your back arched, allowing her head to dip even lower. A moan escaped your mouth as she moved to your chest, taking a hardened bud into her mouth.

Your grip on Yeji’s newly dyed silver locks tightened, moans falling from both of your lips as you got caught up in the pleasure. Yeji focused her attention on your breasts, only allowing you to move away to take your shorts and underwear off. You quickly clambered back onto Yeji’s lap, your girlfriend grabbing your jaw to pull your lips back onto hers. Her hands moved to your hips, moving her leg to rest in between your own. She smirked when she felt you against her, her shorts allowing her to feel every bit of wetness that was beginning to coat on her thigh.

“You’re dripping for me baby girl, why didn’t you pull me away from my work sooner?” Yeji groaned against your lips, pulling back to look you in the eyes. You moaned at her words, your brows furrowing as your girlfriend’s hands tightened around your hips. She guided you down against her thigh, your tongues intertwining as you began to rock back and forth against your girlfriend. Your wetness spread across her soft skin, somehow managing to turn Yeji on even more than she already was.

Your head fell back as Yeji flexed her thigh, one hand guiding you back and forth as the other moved to your throat. Your moans got breather as Yeji’s hand gripped your neck, loving how you turned to complete putty in her hands.

“You like that baby? You like using my thigh to get yourself off?” Yeji asked the grip on your neck tightening slightly as your eyes rolled back into her head. Your girlfriend kept you steady as your hips began to stutter, trying her best to keep you grinding steadily against her leg. You whined in answer, the pleasure of using your girlfriend to get off too great your you to choke out any words.

Yeji’s hand soon dropped from your throat as your moans got louder and louder, her hand moving to dip down between your legs. She could tell you were close, a finger slipping to work on your clit. The added stimulation of Yeji’s touch was making your legs shake, whines and loud moans of Yeji’s name spilling out one after the other. She smirked as she saw how flustered you were, completely lost in the pleasure and Yeji contiued circling your clit to bring you to the edge.

Your eyes squeezed shut as you came, Yeji’s thigh becoming coated in your release. You collapsed against Yeji, her arms pulling you into an embrace as you came down from your high. She kissed your forehead, brushing the hair from your face that was now coated in sweat. You leaned down to kiss Yeji’s shoulder, giggling a little once you realised the mess you’d made on her thigh. Yeji pulled your head up to kiss you, the previous desperation replaced by soft, sweet kisses that made your heart flutter.

“Are you happy now, baby?” She asked, a breath-taking smile on her face as she looked at you, her finger tracing a path down your jawline before cupping your cheek to pull you back in for a kiss. You nodded as you pulled away, tracing a finger along her collarbone. You stood up a minute later, stretching out a hand for Yeji to take. She gulped as you pulled her towards her bedroom, her eyes darkening once again as you pushed her down against the bed.

“I really, really missed you these past few weeks baby, won’t you let me show you just how much?”

What started out as you merely wanting some attention from your girlfriend, soon turned into a night full of passion and love, both of you getting lost in the passion and pleasure was to come. Though you often do have to spend time apart, Yeji always knows how to make it up to you, whether that be through a romantic date, a night in spent in each other’s arms, or an evening spent screaming her name, she’d always find a way to make it all better.

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jobean12-blog · 4 years

Note

Beefy Bucky where he is really mad at the reader one day and is giving her the silent treatment, no kisses or physical contact, etc. She has to go out on a risky mission with only nat as back up and he still doesn’t talk to her and she leaves really upset and kinda crying. She gets really hurt on the mission and thinks that the last time that she spoke to the love of her life was Bucky yelling at her. Nat finds her, gets her to the tower. Bucky and her make up + sweetness

Love You To Death

Pairings: Beefy Bucky x reader

Word Count: 1,677

Summary: Bucky can’t handle the reader being in danger so he distances himself. Thankfully, he learns his lesson with a happy ending.

Author’s Note: I always dislike the thought of Bucky being anything but perfect but of course love can make you crazy and everyone reacts differently to things that are scary...like the possibility of losing the one person most important to you. This is lightly based off one of my favorite Type O Negative songs, ‘Love you to Death’ Hope you enjoy :) Thank you so much for reading!

Warnings: Angst, mild violence, mention of stab wound, fluffy ending with a super soft beefy bucky

You tried to stop the flow of tears as you walked up the ramp of the quinjet. You had to stay focused for the mission and for Nat. The mission would only take two days and although you left 5 minutes ago, it felt like you had already been gone an eternity.

When you had first told Bucky about the mission, he was apprehensive, asking so many questions, badgering Steve as to why you had to go and not him and just plain sour over it. You understood he was worried, and it only made you love him more to know it, but you were strong and could take care of yourself and do your job.

As the mission date approached you noticed a change in Bucky. He was much less affectionate, keeping his distance most of the time and never initiating any conversations. It was torture. You asked him about it numerous times, “Buck, what’s going on? Please talk to me so we can fix this, I don’t understand and it’s upsetting me,” you would plead. Sometimes he would give you a simple, “nothing is wrong,” and other times he would just look at you…like it was for the last time.

It nearly broke your heart, but you knew he loved you with every fiber of his being and you couldn’t understand why he would do this. You would cling to him at night, your arms barely wrapping around his wide chest and your face buried in the crook of his neck. Whispered, “I love yous,” at any random moment were the only thing you would get a reply to, “I love you to, y/n, so much.”

It made no sense and it seemed to weigh you down as you walked onto the jet, feet heavy and shoulders slumped. “We will handle this mission quickly and efficiently and then get back home, y/n. Don’t worry, everything will be fine,” Nat assured you as she squeezed your hand. You gave her a weak smile but squared your shoulders, “let’s do this.”

Steve had given you all the information you needed to infiltrate this Hydra base. It was an extremely dangerous operation. This facility was being used to test a new super solider serum on subjects handpicked by Hydra. If they had succeeded in any way you were going to be up for hell of a fight.

It was meant to be covert, get in, get the needed information and get out. Later, you, Nat and the whole team would take down the operation and get rid of the serum for good. You had a solid plan…but things don’t always go according to plan.

It seemed like you would really pull his off, the information carefully extracted and stored on the memory stick hidden in your inner pants pocket, you and Nat quietly making your way back to where you slipped in.

You could hear the beat of your heart, the rush of blood in your ears so loud you were worried others could detect it. Unfortunately, you were right. Turns out they had begun testing their new serum earlier than you thought and several soldiers had survived the transfusion.

It happened so quickly that you barely had time to react. There were 5 of them and while both you and Nat were extremely skilled and strong there was only so much you could do to fend them off, especially when their only intent was to destroy the target.

You and Nat were so in sync, moving with a rhythmic ease that had you take down two of the soldiers quickly, however, the three that remained proved to be more of a problem. Two of them had you cornered, eyes cold and calculating as they inched closer.

It wasn’t until the blade had sliced into your abdomen that you realized the third solider had momentarily incapacitated Nat and charged in your direction. He searched for the small memory stick, blade still embedded in your flesh, as you tried with every ounce of strength to hold him off. But the other two soldiers had you pinned down and it wasn’t until Nat recovered, made use of the special stun gun Tony designed, that you were able to wrench yourself free and move away.

You both knew you had only seconds to get out, the pain in your side intense as you ran, limping along side Nat and back toward the quinjet. Every step agonizing as you felt more blood seep through your fingers. The last thing you remember is Nat screaming for you to, “keep going, just a few more steps,” before the slow veil of darkness clouds your vision and your last word whispered is, “Bucky.”

The faint smell of something familiar and comforting reaches your nose. It slowly drags you out of your dreamless sleep, eyes opening as you slightly shift on the bed. Your bed, in your shared bedroom with Bucky.

“Doll, doll, can you hear you me?” the frantic voice of Bucky drifts through the space and you try to get your eyes to focus. Your hand is enveloped in the warmth of his own, his blue eyes wide and worried as he cradles your cheek with his other hand.

“Hey,” you croak out, “what happened? Is Nat ok?” you start to push up from the bed only to wince in pain and slump back down. Bucky gently squeezes your hand and rubs your arms soothingly, “it’s ok baby, you’re ok and Nat is fine,” he whispers, and you notice his eyes are wet with unshed tears.

“Bucky, what’s wrong, are you ok?” you ask, voice shrill with worry as you take in his appearance, tired eyebrows furrowed in constant concern. “I’m fine, y/n, I’m fine and so are you,” he says, letting out a sob as he carefully pulls you up and into his chest.

You ignore the slight pain and curl into him, grasping onto his thick arms with a vice grip, “I thought I would never see you again, never hold you again, never get to tell you how sorry I am for how I acted,” he choked out.

You lift your head to speak but he places a finger over your lips, “please, y/n, let me explain,” he says, voice small and broken as he holds you, his eyes full of emotion. “I can’t believe how I treated you, there is nothing I can say that will make it right, but I want you to know that it came from a place of fear. I was so scared of losing you on this mission that I thought pushing you away would make it easier. Obviously, I realized I was completely wrong, but it was too late, and you had already left. I know these Hydra scum, I know what they are capable, especially the soldiers they bred so I couldn’t bare the thought of you being anywhere near them, it physically hurt to think of you in any danger.” So instead of telling you how much I love you and how much I was worried for you, I did what I figured would be easier and distanced myself from the one person I can’t live without.”

Your eyes scan his face as he continues to speak, words of apology and love pouring out almost as quickly as the tears run down his cheeks. You gently wipe away a tear with your thumb, caressing the soft skin now peppered with scruffy hair and gingerly press your lips to his, effectively stopping his rambling.

At first, he is still, relishing in the warmth and life in your lips before he moves his mouth and kisses you deeply, pulling you fully into his lap and holding you as close as possible. You break the kiss and rest your head against his broad chest, listening to his heartbeat as it calms, “I love you, y/n, more than anything. I hope you can forgive me,” he says, giving you a gentle squeeze.

“Of course I forgive you Buck, I love you too, more than anything, but next time, you need to talk to me and tell me how you’re feeling, even though it might be hard,” you mumble into the softness of his shirt. He continues to hold you close, tenderly rocking you back and forth, whispering “thank you” and “I love you” over and over into your hair.

You spend the rest of the day wrapped in each other’s arms, Bucky doting over you and you happily let him. You had wanted to take a shower but needed to keep the bandages on your side dry, so Bucky got you one of Bruce’s cool Knick knacks that did the job. He tenderly cleaned your hair and body, placing delicate kisses to your lips and neck as the warm water washed the day away.

Sitting on the edge of the bed wrapped in a large fluffy towel, Bucky walks over holding a pile of clothes. “Ok, so I have my worn-out blue tee shirt, my NASA sweatshirt, and my red Henley. Which one do you want to wear?” he asks, smile sweet as he holds up your choices. You point to the blue tee shirt and NASA sweatshirt, opting for layers of coziness, “thanks, baby, I love wearing your clothes best,” you tell him. “I know you do, and you look much better in them than I do,” he says sweetly, helping you out of your towel and into the shirt.

“I found this new book in Tony’s library, it’s a fantasy series. Faeries, magic, love! All your favorites so I knew you would love it. Want me to read to you before bed?” You throw Bucky a beaming smile, excited at the thought of a new fantasy story and snuggle into his side as he puts his arm around you, opening the book before placing a kiss to the top of your head. He begins reading, voice soothing as you listen to the words and your heart is full, knowing your happiness is his happiness.

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moneymingyu · 4 years

Text

The Fight

[summary: the events that transpire the night before jeonghan proposes]

pairing: idol!jeonghan x non idol!reader

word count: 2,433

genre: angst

warning: depictions of a minor anxiety attack

master list

His ears are still ringing, adrenaline pumping through his veins that causes his head to spin as he rides through the high that only the stage could bring him. He was born for this, people say. He looses himself for a second in this sea of a thousand faces as he bows with his members before exiting stage left and hopping down the stairs.

“Great show, Jeonghan!” somebody says, putting him on the shoulder in this backstage haze. There are more people congratulating him, more people proposing dinner celebrations and drinks on them but all Jeonghan can think about is how fast he’s crashing and how the ache in his knees and feet are rising into his chest until he can’t hear anything but the rush of blood sloshing in his ears as he fumbles with his bag and pulls out his cell phone.

[1] New Message

From: My Love ❤️

Jeonghan, we need to talk.

[3] Missed Calls

From: My Love ❤️

[1] New Message

From: My Love ❤️

I don’t think I can do this anymore...

[1] New Message

From: My Love ❤️

Jeonghan, I know your concert hasn’t started yet. We need to talk now.

[1] New Message

From: My Love ❤️

You can’t avoid this forever, Jeonghan...You saw it coming too.

[1] New Message

From: My Love ❤️

Your concert has already started, I see...Jeonghan, let’s be real. You and I are as close as strangers now. All of these late nights and time zones...I’m not sure I can do this anymore...I’m sorry...

He feels his legs buckle underneath him.

No, no, no. This can’t be happening. Not today. No, no, no-

“Hyung? Are you okay?” a voice says from behind him, shaking his shoulder. “Hyung. Hey. Hyung! Can you hear me?” Over the pounding in his head, he can just barely make out the concern in Dokyeom’s voice as he feels the younger squat down next to him. He sounds almost a mile away. “Mingyu, get ‘Cheol!” he calls out, frantically wiping at Jeonghan’s cheeks. “Hey, hyung. It’s okay! Hey, can you hear me? Can we get some oxygen over here?! Jeonghannie isn’t breathing well!”

Before Jeonghan knows it, there’s a mask being shoved over his face. Long strands of his hair get tangled in the plastic tubes and stick to his sweaty forehead and tear stained cheeks. He suddenly feels a hand pushing them away and instantly knows they belong to Joshua. He opens his eyes and sees a moment of panic flicker in the younger’s eyes before they go back to their normal, stoic gaze.

“You okay now?” Joshua asks as he gently pulls away the mask. Jeonghan instantly collapses into his arms and continues to sob into his shoulder, no doubt smudging make up all over his plain white shirt. “There, there,” he whispers, rubbing a soothing circle on his back. “Let’s go back to the hotel, hm?”

With shaky legs, he’s hoisted up by Joshua and Seungcheol, who has always had a problem masking his worries. Seungcheol’s effort to avoid eye contact doesn’t go unnoticed but Jeonghan decides not to comment on it. Jeonghan knows he can’t look at him, not when his face is a mess of tears and snot and sweat. He knows the oldest of the group is prone to crying when somebody else cries. He feels bad for making him worry. He doesn’t deserve a friend like him.

At the hotel, Joshua runs him a warm bath. He offers to bathe with him (because, well. That’s just what members do sometimes) but Jeonghan shakes his head. Instead, Joshua squats down beside the tub and washes gently washes his hair for him, humming a small, familiar tune from a song that only he and his members know.

Before he knows it, he’s swaddled in the slightly yellowing white sheets of his all too big hotel bed. His head lays on Dokyeom’s chest as the younger hugs him tightly (because “hugs can fix anything,” according to Dokyeom). Joshua is flicking through a book in a chair next to the bed while Seungcheol sits at the edge with Jeonghan’s feet in his lap, massaging them slowly.

“Hyung. You should have told us you had something on your chest!” Dokyeom frowns. Jeonghan thinks it’s cute when the younger tries to scold him. His eyes always have too much worry and not enough sternness to them. Jeonghan wants to make sure nothing will ever cause the lights in Dokyeom’s eyes to fade away. “We want to take care of you too! You don’t always have to take care of us!” Jeonghan hums in response.

His head isn’t spinning like before but a soft thud in his temples does remind him that he should take a tylenol after he eats whatever Seungcheol ordered from room service.

“What even happened back there?” Dokyeom whispers.

It’s not like he’s prodding for an answer. Jeonghan knows that. He knows that Dokyeom will accept his silence and move on. He knows that he can keep his pain a secret. He knows that after years of being together, none of them can push another to talk about something until the person feels up for it.

And yet, as he sees the worry set on Seungcheol’s face, feels the slight shaking from Dokyeom as he holds back his tears, sees the way Joshua’s eyes constantly flick up to check on him, he can’t help but feel it’d be selfish of him to keep this a secret.

So, with a deep breath and a crack in his voice, he says, “YN wants to break up with me.”

It’s like the world stops spinning and all of the oxygen has been sucked out of the room.

“What?” It’s Dokyeom to break the silence first. His voice is still soft; a whisper almost, as if any louder could shatter this moment into a million tiny pieces.

Jeonghan sniffles. “They said-“ he stutters for a breath, “they said that they couldn’t do this anymore. I’m a stranger now.” He feels the tears rushing out of him now, like a dam has just bursted in his tear ducts. His chest tightens as he tries to regulate his breathing. “I-I didn’t even realize and I-“

“Sshh,” Joshua shifts to sit on the bed. He grabs a tissue from the box on the side table and uses it to gently wipe his rosy cheeks. “Have you talked to them?” Jeonghan shakes his head. He doesn’t even know where his phone is.

“But, hyung...” Dokyeom frowns. “You were gonna-“

Seungcheol quickly smacks the younger’s leg, shaking his head in warning as Jeonghan starts to cry even harder.

Jeonghan can’t bring himself to look at Seungcheol. He can’t bring himself to see the remorse on his face.

There’s a hole burning in Jeonghan’s backpack. Seungcheol eyes the pocket sadly. A small box. A promise. A forever.

Seungcheol thinks back to seven weeks ago when Jeonghan slowly entered his room asking to talk to him, hesitant and even a bit reluctant. He remembers that it was the first time in his life he’s ever seen the nonchalant facade, that only Yoon Jeonghan can keep up, falter. He watched the younger twiddle his fingers and intake a shaky breath before asking if it’d be alright propose to you, apologies profusely falling from his lips. Seungcheol remembers tearing up, telling him that it wasn’t up to him. If it was what Jeonghan wanted, he’d stand firmly by him. He remembers how hard Jeonghan cried because he loves you but he loves this band too. He didn’t want to put the careers of his 12 brothers in jeopardy but he also knew you were getting tired of waiting.

So, the two of the devised a plan. They’d go on tour, one last hoorah for this band of brothers, before Jeonghan would come back and promise you the forever you deserved.

One day.

Jeonghan literally had one more day away from you.

He was supposed to fly back tomorrow morning and surprise you that evening.

Seungcheol exhales sadly. “Hannie...” he frowns, moving so that Jeonghan could lay on his chest.

Jeonghan mainly blames himself.

You deserved so much more. He knew a paragraph text and a selfie could only do so much. You deserved someone who could be there for you, somebody who could hold you, somebody who could talk with you and buy groceries with you and stroll along the street with you. You deserved somebody who could give you forever.

Dokyeom watches helplessly from the side. Joshua, who notices the way he’s on the brink of tears, brings himself to his feet.

“DK,” he says, “why don’t you and I go see where Hoshi is. Hm?”

The youngest nods slowly. He knows the last thing they need is two people crying. He stands up and rounds the bed until he can see the parts of Jeonghan’s face that isn’t buried in Seungcheol’s neck. He grabs hold of one of his hands and smiles sadly.

“Hyung, stay strong. You still have tomorrow, don’t you?” he says hopefully before squeezing his palm. “I love you, Hannie. We’re all here for you.” With that, Joshua escorts him out of the room with one last nod to Seungcheol. Take care of him, it says.

Seungcheol isn’t sure how long he holds Jeonghan until his sobs subside into sniffles but he holds him the entire time, rocking the both of them back and forth to the lull of some forgotten lyrics they scrapped way back when.

“What am I supposed to do?” Jeonghan whispers, defeated. “I love them.”

Seungcheol thinks he’s the most inadequate person for this type of situation. He’s never been in love. Hell, his entire dating career has just been bouts of him hooking up with other people in hopes of feeling something that might equate to love.

But, even if he doesn’t know much about love, he does know a lot about Jeonghan. As the two eldest members of the group, they’ve gone through hell and back together. Where Seungcheol is lacking, he has Jeonghan by his side to make up for it. They’ve seen each other at rock bottom and have picked up the broken pieces of this group until their hands bled.

And if there was one thing that Seungcheol knew about Jeonghan, one thing that he both admired yet sometimes hated about Jeonghan, was the fact that the Yoon Jeonghan would never go down without a fight. He’d fight tooth and nail for what he wanted.

So, with this in mind, Seungcheol says, “Well if I were you, I’d march right up to YN and say ‘Hey! What the fuck?! I was about to propose here!’” It’s enough to make Jeonghan giggle for the first time all day. The younger smacks his chest playfully before pulling himself to a seated position, wiping his eyes with a tissue. “Jeonghan,” Seungcheol says, causing him to look up. “You can’t just give up.”

“Easy for you to say,” Jeonghan scoffs. “Love is a fucking warzone and I’m holding a grenade right now.” He shakes his head and lets his eyes drop down to his lap. “I’m an idiot.”

“Hey,” Seungcheol frowns. “I will not stand for my best friend bashing himself. All of those rights are reserved for me and occasionally Joshua.”

“Hey!”

“But,” he softly smiles, “if I’m being honest, you are an idiot. An actual stupid fucking idiot.”

“Gee, thanks hyung,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I wasn’t done! Let me talk!” Seungcheol huffs, finally getting the younger one to quiet down. “You’re an idiot, Jeonghan. An actual, certified idiot. And do you know why?” After a long pause, Jeonghan meets his eyes. “Because love is a warzone. But you don’t just...get thrown into one,” he waves his hand.

“Well actually-“

“Jeonghan!” He instantly quiets. “What I’m saying is that in most cases, you have to go through strenuous training to even be allowed the opportunity to step foot on the field. And after all of that, you still have to fight many small battles in order to win the war.”

“You suck at motivational speeches,” Jeonghan pouts. “It may work on the little ones but-“

“But listen,” Seungcheol’s voice drops down to a low tone. “You’re already stupid enough to be holding the grenade in the first place. Either throw the grenade back to where it came from or blow up with it.”

Jeonghan stares at Seungcheol.

He’s right and as much as Jeonghan hates to admit it, he is.

He starts to think back at all of the sleepless nights he used to go through just for a second to talk on the phone with you. He remembers when he would set alarms so that he could send you a good morning and good night text. He remembers planning out his day so meticulously just so that he could eat at the same time as you.

He’s fought hard for you. He’ll admit that. From loosing sleep over you to arguing with you, Jeonghan has to admit that he’s changed because of you. He’s cut off old parts of himself and has become something that five years ago, he wouldn’t have imagined could have ever been him.

And it’s been for the better.

That’s why, the next morning, Jeonghan gets on the plane with his members in tow. He recites a speech in his head and replays it over and over again despite the fact that the words are starting to jumble together into the white noise. He repeats and repeats it until he’s rolling his luggage through the airport.

He hugs his members one by one. He thanks them all for their parts and rolls, no character too big or too small in his story.

Jeonghan then drives for what seems like days, weeks, months. His mind flashing with different memories. The first time you guys met, the fist time you guys kissed, your first arguments, the first time you guys cried for the other, the first time you guys cried because of the other, the very first “I love you.”

His body is pumping with the adrenaline he thought that only the stage could give him. He knows his members are blowing up his phone, sending him texts of encouragement and love but he can’t be bothered to check them as he finally finds himself at your doorstep.

He knocks twice and watches as the door swings open.

There you are in all of your beauty. The wind is knocked out of him as a whirlwind of emotions from the past five years with you by his side all hits him at once.

“Jeonghan?” you whisper, eyes in disbelief.

“Hey,” he smiles, fingers curling around the box hidden behind his back. “Can we talk?”

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unholyplumpprincess · 3 years

Text

One More Hit, Baby

A commission for someone on twitter! Featuring her headcanon of Bloodhound (which can be seen on her nsfw twitter @/EnEssTimesTwo) and my own of Mirage.

Summary: Bloodhound has always been into using fungi and roots as recreational/calming drugs (Anxie-tea amiright fellas) to soothe their nerves, but the effects can be different for someone else. Especially a certain someone who has hardly had any contact with ‘alien drugs’.

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Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Mirage/Bloodhound

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Bloodhound has a penis, Mirage has a vulva, Mirage is gender fluid and uses he/she pronouns and Ellie/Elliott, drugged tea usage (Think Weed or CBD sorta vibes), mentions of other herbs used as drugs, mentions of Bloodhound being possessive but not in a Creepy way!

Words: 3.4k

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The usage of herbs and fungi for recreational drug purposes was not something that was not unheard of. Many cultures and religions partook in something of the sorts, and with so many planets and so many cultures to explore, it was of no shock that Bloodhound would end up getting into such things. It helped their own mind settle when they used the strong mushrooms in teas, or deep earthy roots to use in incense. The smoke would not pass from their lips, yet inhaled at a relaxing pace. They did not wish to be ‘high’ as others would use, but would rather be at ease.

It was much better than nicotine and other drugs created by chemicals that they could have put in their body, they had thought, and it was a practice passed down from generation to generation.

Talos was full of large foliage and beast life, that much was obvious. Well, HAD been. Back when it was a home and no longer harboring the greed of machines sucking its resources dry, Bloodhound had bitterly thought.

Inhale, exhale, sip.

~Rest under the cut~

Their lips press to the cup’s edge as they sip the tea they had made. It tastes strongly of cinnamon, earthier tastes to it. They muse, a smile to their lips, that Elliott would not like something like this. He would probably make a funny face and spit it out or try to swallow it with a brave face to save their feelings.

Elliott had been someone Bloodhound had gotten close to over their shared time in the arena. He had shown his colors, opened up to them, and in turn they had opened up to him. To the point now they were in a relationship for perhaps two months now, new and blossoming, yet Bloodhound found themself thinking of him quite often.

Whether the day consisted of Elliott or Ellie, depending on the day, she harbored their very thoughts like in situations as this. Where they could relax their body, roll their head back and sigh to the ceiling with half lidded eyes. Their state of dress was casual, a tight black tanktop and their tactical pants, their boots and fingerless gloves gave them an air of relaxed yet controlled.

They wonder, briefly, if Ellie would like to be controlled.

Inhale, exhale, sip.

They tuck their long, dark hair behind their ear, setting their cup to the side so they may check their phone. Arthur coos nearby on the balcony edge, yet they ignore his cries for simply Arthur being Arthur.

No new messages from Elliott, his name in their contacts framed by the emoji of a heart and a chameleon. A pun, Bloodhound had thought, was rather clever.

Yet, strange, that there were no texts from him. By this time he should have at least sent a playful selfie asking if they wished to come to bed with him or if they were too busy doing ‘hunter stuff’. Their full lips quirk up once more, resting their hand on their cheek to try and apply pressure as if to calm their smiling.

Perhaps they were just in love with the trickster. It was no secret to themself how they would worship the very ground Elliott walked on if given the chance. How they would kill for him, die for him, offer him gifts upon gifts, desiring nothing more than to see his dimpled grins and watch his quirks of hand motions and stuttering upon too lengthy of syllabled words.

Their cup is raised once again after they set their phone down, taking a sip and feeling their heightened nerves relaxing once more.

Truly they should have heeded why Arthur was crooning when they heard their door being unlocked and opened. They tense, beginning to move, but they hear him before they see him.

“Damn thing is always jammed, Hound, don’t know why you won’t just let me fix it-” Elliott’s voice is exasperated, pushing the door open with his shoulder before shutting it behind him. He’s obviously freshly showered, his curls slightly dewy and his fresh fruity scent making their nostrils flare. His own state of attire is casual, if not a bit dressed up. A black crop top to show his sharp curves and lean build with the small trail of hair from pierced navel down to skin tight, torn jeans. The leather jacket had fur edging the collar, the jacket they had left in his room last week.

They fight the urge to snarl with possession.

“Ah! There you are!” He says, lips spreading into a grin as he throws out his arms as if Bloodhound was a gift for him to find. They stay seated on the couch, legs slightly spread and boots planted firmly. They watch with a smile when he catches himself at the doorway, kicking off his own boots before gliding across the room towards them.

“Figured you ran off when they announced a party after the games,” His voice is playful, but they incline their head in agreement up to him as he approaches, their own eyes half lidded and relaxed. They slightly tip their head to the right, allowing their unblinded eye to look at him further. It’s sweet the way he’s clearly on a mission in front of them, bouncing from foot to foot until they silently make a motion to their lap.

Ever the eager one to initiate contact, Elliott climbs into their lap, straddling their thighs and draping his arms around their neck. Bloodhound hums with appreciation when he glides a hand through their hair, starting at the heavy scars upon their right cheekbone to brush their hair behind their ear. There’s a soft caress, both pairs of eyes meeting.

“I have missed your presence,” Bloodhound finally speaks, just a soft murmur as they gently set their cup to the side, letting their hands hover over his waist. There’s a small shift, a small telltale sign that they could touch and they take it graciously to caress his bare waist. Letting their thumbs greedily rub in circles to feel his soft skin. “It has been far too quiet.”

“Hey, hey, watch those jokes.” Elliott laughs back, gentle and soft as his hand traces back to their jaw, cupping gently and letting his thumb brush their lower lip. Bloodhound’s heart skips a beat, finding their body reacting, tipping their head up just in time for him to come down and meet them.

By the time their lips meet, Bloodhound is too far gone to consider anything more than his mouth. They sigh into him, tracing a hand up under his jacket their jacket to bring him forward a bit more onto their body. Elliott moans in reply, sinking his teeth gently into their bottom lip as he leads it into something heavier. A bit more tongue, with Bloodhound humming in appreciation when he licks over their sharp canines.

It isn’t until he’s parting, his lips lingering briefly on theirs with a soft laugh of him going, “What were you even drinking-” With a soft hint of interest in his voice. Oh, did he like the tea they made? They were sure he would--

Bloodhound is a fool.

It hits them just as quick as it seems to hit Elliott. They let out a soft gasp and a murmur of, “My love, I should have warned you, I did not think-”

“Nah, nah, no problem-o. Drugged tea, got it, it’s your thing, remember. Just...woah-” His last word is followed by him sitting up, honey hazel eyes looking around the room as if he sees things that Bloodhound cannot. They wouldn’t be surprised if that is in fact what’s going on. Especially when he lifts his head a bit, looking over towards the balcony window where Arthur pleasantly coos in his direction.

“Yeah okay, alcohol, no problem, but-” His following laugh is airy, amused and making Bloodhound’s stomach unknot from where it had been beginning to with anxiety. He is...comfortable. Comfortable in their lap, with their taste on his lips, with the drugs entering his veins and seeming to be...having a good time?

“You are not used to this.” They help him finish, tracing their fingers up his sides gently then back down to try and soothe him. It seems to do the exact opposite, as if increasing his sensitivity when he sighs and lets his head fall back with a low noise in his throat that isn’t exactly painful.

Bloodhound hates the way their pants are far too tight now. Betrayal of their own body.

“Mmh, keep doing that, baby.” Elliott sighs out, shuddering when their nails scrape down his sides to his hips where they rest their hands.

It’s not as if...they hadn’t thought of sexually pursuing Elliott. He was clearly open, going so far as to sit them down before and saying that if they wanted to, he was all for it, and even if they didn’t want to it wasn’t a big deal. It had been a kind, healthy discussion. One that had made Bloodhound actively think more OF him. Of what he could do. Of what he would say, crying in their ear as they sunk their fingers into the very depths of his gorgeous body-

They’re soon being guided to kiss him again, with Elliott absentmindedly grinding in their lap. His hips rock back and forth, perfectly aligning with their own seam and making them moan softly. They grip his hips, digging their nails in gently and only seeming to encourage him more with soft little whimpers arising from his throat, his kisses more urgent, hungrier.

“Elliott-” They breathe out when he parts from the kiss, his soft lips pressing down over their cheek, jawline, to their neck where he mouths at a spot. His warm tongue traces the spot before he’s starting to suck the flesh to leave a hickey. One of their hands flies from his hips, gripping his curls as a moan traitorously leaves their throat at the same moment a moaned ‘yes’ exhales from his own against their flesh.

By the gods, he will kill them.

“Elliott,” They breathe out once again, more desperate as they tug on his hair. He goes easy enough in the motion, a moan leaving him and his lashes fluttering. It’s as if he can’t focus, whining lower in his throat as his hips rock forward right across where their pants are tightest. Even Bloodhound almost loses focus, but they keep their grip. “Do you want- do you wish to-”

“Yes.” Elliott hisses out, voice full of need and nodding his head as best as he can with their grip. “Please, please, please baby, you’re gonna feel so good, you’re gonna make me cum so hard, haven’t st -stopped thinking about your-your mouth, want it on me-”

Bloodhound’s tanned cheeks flush crimson red at his honest vulgarity. Yet, they finally find it within them to at least stand. Their hands rest under Elliott’s ass comfortably, his own arms winding around their neck and his mouth still whispering filth in their scarred ear. He mouths there too, only making their trek to the bedroom a little harder.

When they finally all but throw him onto the bed, Elliott is quick to help with his clothes. The jacket is thrown elsewhere, followed by his hips lifting to allow Bloodhound to take off his ridiculously tight pants. Everything removed with urgency until he lies there upon their own sheets, naked, beautiful, eyes focused on them with the hunger they had only caught glimpses of in the arena when they pulled something dangerous.

His body is beautiful. Lean muscle with strong arms and scars littered about. His waist curved, followed by wide hips and strongly built legs. His chest, only small handfuls of breasts, pierced with golden barbells that make Bloodhound’s mouth water. His curls are splayed around his head, skin lit by the moonlight shining through the window nearby with curtains fluttering from the soft breeze.

Their eyes finally rest between his thighs where dark curls are. A fat, engorged clit peeking from his lower lips where slickness is clear to see.

A beast howls in the back of their mind.

“My mouth is what you wished for?” They finally manage to breathe out, sounding breathless with how he takes their breath away. When he whines, lifting his hips and nodding his head desperately, they can’t help their own chuckle. “Then that is what you shall get, my love.”

They hardly waste any time moving further onto the bed between his legs. They rest a strong forearm across his hips, using their hand to pull back his mound and clitoral hood just to watch him throb. They can hardly stand the desire, leaning forward to wrap their lips around and sucking.

The reaction is immediate of the flex in his hips trying to push up, but they hold him steady. Their tongue eagerly laps up any slickness, tracing from his hole to his clit like a starved dog. His clit is the main focus of their attention, open mouthed kisses eagerly presses to tease him, followed by their flat tongue and their nose nuzzling against it as if they could rub his scent into their skin forever.

Bloodhound’s ears burn the more they taste him. Not only from finally being able to, or the fact they’re hard enough in their pants that the zipper is starting to hurt, no. No.

It’s from his persistent, desperate talking. Like a bird chirping praise.

“Yes, yes, yes, baby, just like that-” “Fuck- fuck , your goddamn ton-tongue-” “Oho, God, sweetheart, yes, yes, yes-” His voice is a sin of its own, lowering from pleasure as he croons out the praise. At some point his hand rests in their hair, serving in making them growl when he tries to shove their head down or pull their hair.

He only gets louder when they introduce two fingers. They experiment with what he may like, curling up into his frontal walls, scissoring them, even parting from him briefly to kiss at his inner thighs and let their thumb work his clit over.

They get the strongest reaction when his cunt squeezes around their fingers, a warning, and yet they pull away from him.

Elliott sobs out, beating his fist against the bed and trying so hard to tug at their hair with desperation. They can’t imagine what he sees right now, his eyes half lidded and unfocused, yet body so relaxed. They think he looks beautiful like this, hair out of place, lips parted to pant and flushed from their prior kisses and his biting of his own lips to try and silence his moans.

His hips roll up into nothing, and they almost feel bad for stopping.

Almost.

“Condom?” They finally manage to get out, reaching down to offer their palm for him to hump. With how slick he is from their saliva and his own wetness; They highly doubt they need to ask him if he wants any extra lube.

“Don’t need it,” Elliott manages to get out in brief clarity, reaching with his legs until he can hook his calves around their waist, giving a small tug with a low whimper of need. “Don’t want it. Cum inside me, cum on me, mark me as yours, I don’t care. Baby, please, for the love of any god out there just get in me.”

And oh, oh the way he looks at them when he says it. Pupils blown wide, face flushed a healthy glow, how could they say no? Not as if they wanted to.

Without needing to be told twice, they hardly manage to get their pants down to mid-thigh. Fully clothed for the most part with a needy, soaking wet partner underneath them is almost too much for them to take. They’re sure they could cum right there.

They use the slickness from Elliott on their palm to lube their cock up, aware of hungry eyes watching them. Bloodhound was of a decent girth and size, nothing too shocking, but apparently good looking enough for Elliott to start keening praise again.

“I want to lick you clean after,” He begins, already making Bloodhound’s already burning ears become cherries. They growl softly in reply, stroking into their own fist briefly and letting their eyes fall to his wet cunt. “Fuck, sweetheart, I’ll be just a hole for you- you- hnnh- to fuck-”

“Elliott.” They hiss out, desperation in their tone as they yank his hips closer finally. They don’t even get to do the honors when he’s already eagerly reaching down to press their cock down, gliding the head through his heat until they can press in.

Skítur.

Oh he’s...he’s absolutely heavenly inside. The heat is too much, their hips absentmindedly snapping forward into him, but it doesn’t seem Elliott minds when he cries out and reaches for them. They oblige, leaning down over him and letting his arms wrap around their neck, one hand finding the nape of their neck and sliding upwards into their hair just to ground himself.

Bloodhound could cum just like this, inside of him, holding still with his sweet little pussy squeezing and fluttering around them. They’re dizzy on desire when his clit jerks against their pelvis, Elliott’s hips rolling upwards to get more friction.

He’s so desperate. Desperate for them, their touch, only them.

Theirs .

It’s sloppy and messy when they finally begin to thrust and move with him. Elliott’s legs clamp around their waist before beginning to loosen when he seems to realize they can move deeper if given the room. He’s chirping praise, his nails sliding down their clothed back until his hands can reach their ass. Elliott sighs something in appreciation, squeezing and forcing their hips to snap into him even harder with his insistence.

His lips can’t seem to focus on their neck or ear, breathing heavily with whines edging his words of, “God your cock is so good.” “ Gonna ha-have to convince you to fuck me every day-” “Cum inside me, Houndie, please-” “You’re such a good pup for me. Such a good dog.”

And that last one gets them. A good pup. A good dog. The phrases echo in their mind as they snarl, pressing their cheek into his temple to resist the urge to clamp their teeth around his throat as they lock up and begin to cum. Elliott follows soon after, his hips humping upwards to get that last needed friction before he’s moaning alongside them and scratching up their back to cling around their neck.

The spasms soon subside, but their shared heartbeat does not. Bloodhound moves lazily, resting their sweaty forehead to Elliott’s who is panting, eyes closed and brows creased.

Beautiful.

“What was even in that tea?” Elliott finally gets out after a moment longer of panting, stroking a hand through Bloodhound’s long hair to push it to the side and out of their face. They hum affectionately, gently lowering their body to rest their weight on top of him and nose into his neck to pepper the warmed flesh there in kisses.

“Venerem root,” They murmur, brushing their lips up his rapid fire pulse and gently nipping there, just to grunt when he tightens briefly around them. “It is to calm nerves for those who are not...lightweights.” Their last word tinging on playful, resulting in a gentle smack of their ass that makes them laugh.

“It’s not my fault you like alien subs—sub- sust —alien drugs.” He finally gets out, pinching their hip when they smile against his throat.

Bloodhound soon pulls back, sitting up on their knees and gently pressing their gloved hand to his mound, pushing it back to make his clit stand to attention. He groans, making a soft noise in his throat that sounds like he can’t go again, but they ignore it as they slowly pull out. Watching their cock slide from him with an act of primal demand racing through them when their cum follows, drooling out of his hole messily.

You truly can’t blame Bloodhound when they scoop it with their fingers and press it back into him with a growl in their throat, possessive and wanting.

And you can’t blame Elliott for spreading his legs open once again and whining for a second hit of their tea if it meant they would fuck him again.

Insatiable little trickster, he would be the death of them.

But, how can they refuse such a beautiful face?

#Miragehound #Bloodhound #Mirage #Apex legends #Apex lemons #lemons #nsft #commissions #princess writing

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lisaleigh713 · 3 years

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Jerome and the BBC

Here I am again my junior year of high school. The Chris has passed his test and won the big game. We never sent the entire squad of cheerleaders to away basketball games so just a few of us would go. The Athletic Director (AD) knew what I had done for Chris (tutored) and wanted to know if I could tutor the schools star basketball player.

Jerome was a big man, a senior in high school. He was an all american and could go to any school he wanted. The one problem was he was failing math as well. So in comes the AD and the math teacher. We are not talking about Algebra or Calculus but basic business math.

Jerome is 6’8”, 250lbs with a shaved head. Jerome also happens to be black. You could look at him in his shorts and know he had a snake in his pants, but no just any snake a fucking Anaconda.

I told the math teacher I would be happy to do this but would need to miss some of my class time. “No problem” she said. I went to the AD and informed him I would be happy to do so but I would need a favor in return. Of course he wanted to know what it was but I said, “you either agree on the principal or you say no and I dont tutor Jerome.” The AD agreed.

Since Jerome could not formally practice and math was the last period we discussed where to go to do this studying and tutoring. I told Jerome to meet me in the library and we could go from there. I began explaining in terms he understood. Here is a spread offense, man to man, what to do on a break away. I used terms he was familiar with but correlated it to math.

The AD sat in on our first session and was super impressed. I said “Jerome the school opens early in the morning, can you meet me here at say 6:30 a.m.” He said, “I will be here in the morning.” The next morning, with a coffee in my hand we meet and was let into the library. No one else around but us. Of course I had to adjust my school uniform to be a bit more provocative.

Jerome sat down and I sat right next to him. I slid my chair as close to him as I could and we began. I explained things and would give him some sample problems and he would answer those. Before long I moved my hand to his thigh and began rubbing my hand up and down his thigh. I could tell this excited him. He looked at me and our eyes just met. I closed my eyes and leaned in and he moved and kissed me. He hands found their way to my breasts and leg but he stopped about mid-thigh.

I reached down and moved his hand up my leg until he hit my pussy and then I let go. He began rubbing my clit and trying to finger me. I moved forward in my chair so he could finger fuck my pussy. His fingers were so big they felt so good, but it was time for me to relax him as only I can relax a man.

I crawled under the table, unzipped his pants and pulled that anaconda cock out. It was so fucking huge. I placed my nose against his cock and breathed it in. His cock smelled wonderful. I then licked the head of his cock and he tasted good. With all my strength and power and sucked his cock into my mouth and down my throat.

His cock then really came to life. He cock was 10” if it was an inch. He tasted just like candy. I moved my mouth up and down his cock until I slammed my head down to his balls. I held my mouth against his groin for a minute while I licked his balls. I couldn’t really see him which was exciting for me as well. It was like I was sucking an anonymous cock. I could hear Jerome moan and groan.

He squirmed and shifted in his seat and then he reached under the table with both his hands and grabbed my head. As he couldn’t thrust he moved my head on his cock with his hands. He did this for a few minutes until he exploded in my mouth. I drank his cum like I was doing shooters of tequila. Some spilled out onto the tile floor. Once he finished shooting in my mouth, Jerome stood up and pulled his pants up. He looked at the floor and saw me slurp up the cum that fell on the floor. “You are one dirty bitch!” “Jerome, baby you have no idea just how dirty I am.”

I cleaned myself up some and we finished his tutoring session. We went the day through school and we were set up for another tutoring session but this time we were not alone. Test time came and of course Jerome aced the test and for the remainder of the did well above average for business math.

At the end of the test he was cleared to play as long as he kept his grades up he could play. The weekend came and now it was my time with Jerome. Jerome and I met at the lake where we kept our boat moored. Jerome jumped on the boat and untied, I moved the boat out in the lake to a secluded spot where no one goes. I dropped anchor and shut the engine down.

I went down the ladder to the galley were Jerome was mixing us drinks. He stood there completely naked. I gasped! Oh my god he was so good looking and I knew he tasted awesome. I dropped my bikini thong bottom, untied my top and let it drop to the floor. I slipped over to him where he handed me a drink. We both took a long drink from his concoction and then he wrapped his arms around me.

Jerome, kissed me hard and passionately, our tongues dancing around with each other. I could feel his cock hardening against my tits. He was more than a foot taller that I am. He reached down and grabbed my ass and squeezed it tight. He picked me up and laid me on the bed. I spread my legs wide so he would have access to whatever he wanted.

He slid off me and stood next to my face. I knew he wanted me to consume his cock. I opened my mouth and let him slid his cock into my mouth and down my throat. He began thrusting his cock in and out of my mouth. He was fucking my mouth and it felt great. I moved from the bed and got on my knees. I placed my hands behind my back, thrust my rather large tits out and opened my mouth. I was completely submissive to his desires and I wanted him to know that.

He grabbed my head and began fucking my throat. He moaned and groaned and fucked my mouth. It felt so wonderful have that black cock down my throat again. I guess he was done because he pulled his cock from my throat and picked me up and laid me on the bed again, this time with my ass at the edge. I grabbed my ankles and pulled them back to behind my head. Again, I wanted him to know he could do anything he wanted to me.

He took that huge cock and slapped my pussy and clit with it. I was getting a spanking by a huge black cock and it was wonderful. I locked my ankles behind my head, Jerome then placed the tip of his cock against my pussy and with one smooth thrust, he entered and pushed all the way to his balls. His balls were slapping my ass now. He began a slow but rhythmic pounding of my pussy or should I say his pussy.

I began moaning and then screaming as I came all over his cock. I am a squirter so I squirted all over him. Yep, I was going to need the boat cleaned when we returned. He pounded and pounded, his balls slapping my asshole. It felt so good. I looked him in the eye and said, “Jerome baby, you can do whatever you want.” He looked confused. “Baby, you fucked my mouth, you are fucking my pussy and, and, and, Jerome baby, put that big black cock in my ass.”

He withdrew his enormous cock and placed the head of his cock against my asshole. Jerome looked at me and said, “are you sure you want me to fuck your ass.” I reached out, grabbed his ass, dug my nails into his ass and pulled him into me; all the way into me. Jerome let out a very loud moan and of course I did too. His cock felt so great in my ass.

He pulled almost all the way out and slammed his cock back into my ass. Then he really started fucking my ass. He was rocking me back and forth on my bed. He just kept pounding my ass and was grunting. He was pile driving my asshole and it felt wonderful. Then all of a sudden he took his cock out. I could feel my asshole gaped majorly.

I removed my ankles from behind my head and Jerome flipped me over onto my hands and knees. I lowered my head and chest and stuck my ass in the air as high as I could. Weird but at that moment I was so thankful James had introduced me to anal 2 years earlier and I had been anally fucked on a regular basis.

Jerome didn’t even hold back. He slammed his turgid cock right into my ass. His balls slapping my clit now every time he would slam his cock all the way into my ass. I was squirting all over the place now. I reached back and played with his balls which I knew would set him off. I played with his pool cue sized balls for a couple of minutes and then they started moving. I knew he was fixing to cum and I was right. He slammed his cock so hard and deep I swore I could feel his cock in my mouth at the same time.

He came and came some more. He continued pumping my ass for a few minutes after cumming in my ass. Soon though he slowly pulled his cock from my ass. I spun around and took his cock into my mouth and cleaned him off like a good girl. Jerome laid back and just enjoyed the attention.

After I cleaned him properly, I got up and grabbed he and I a drink. He sat up against one of the bulk and I laid my head on his lap. He leaned back and just enjoyed the moment. Of course with his cock inches from my face I had to lick it some more. I dip his cock into my drink and then sucked the alcohol from his cock. I was in love with his cock and wanted it more and more.

We hung out on the boat for a bit but it was time to get back to the dock. It was about a 45 minute ride back to the dock and I had an idea. Jerome sat in the captains chair and I sat on top of his lap. We move out slowly and I could feel his cock growing under my ass. Enough was enough. I pulled his cock out and sucked it hard then pulled my thong bikini to the side and sat back down on his cock.

Just as I placed his cock at the entrance of my ass we hit a wave. He jostled up and I slammed down. My god that felt incredible. I screamed but unheard above the sound of the motor. For 30 minutes I bounced up and down on that huge cock then we hit the no wake zone. From there I gyrated my hips on his cock until right before we docked he came in my ass. I stayed on his cock until he unloaded all his cum into my ass.

I got off his cock, moved my thong back to its rightful place and Jerome put his cock away. I really wished I would have been able to clean his cock for him. I docked the boat and Jerome tied up. I shut everything down and locked up. We got off the boat and began walking to our cars. I had cum running down my legs and it felt incredible.

I kissed him and thanked him, put a towel down on my seat, climbed in and drove off. When I got home of course mom and dad asked about the adventure. I explained everything to them in detail. Mom and dad got excited which led to more fucking. All in all a great weekend!!!

Love and Kisses,

Lisa

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xpouii · 4 years

Text

Spit Take

Hey y’all! I really put my nose into this fic to get it finished. It was commissioned by (anonymous) and I hope you like it! The prompt was amazing!

Tags/Warnings: NSFW, Dukexiety, Prinxiety, full NSFW warnings below the cut!

Warnings: Spit kink, tentacle dick, cum play, rough, bulging (stomach and throat), deepthroating, gagging, choking, drooling, crying, masturbation, voyeurism/slight exhibitionism, toys

“Kiddo!” Patton called as he stepped out of the kitchen. “We’re having a movie night… care to join us? I made cookies.”

“Yes, Virgil,” Logan echoed. “You don’t have to wear a onesie if you don’t want to. Patton just has an affinity for them for some reason.”

“Like you don’t?” Roman muttered, flipping through the menu of available movies. “Did we decide what we’re watching?”

“March of the Penguins,” Logan said. “It’s the only possible compromise. There’s scientific information, aesthetically pleasing animals and it’s narrated by Morgan Freeman.”

“Aww penguins!” Patton gasped.

“I wanted to watch Aladdin, but…” Roman chewed the inside of his mouth, “You do have a point about Morgan Freeman. His voice is just so soothing!”

Logan seemed pleased with himself as he picked up a cookie from the large plate of them. Virgil reminded himself to sneak back out later and help himself once the others had gone to bed. Patton clapped his hands together, “Great I’m so proud we agreed right away! I can’t wait to watch these adorable penguins with my best friends. So what do you say, Virgil? Penguins do wear a lot of black, and there’s an empty spot on the couch with your name on it! Not literally but if you give me five minutes and some glitter pens I could whip something up.”

“You?” Roman scoffed. “What about me? You’re going to make an artistic gift for Virgil without me?”

Patton smiled warmly at Roman and patted his knee, “Of course not, Roman. You’re my favorite artist!”

“Uh… gee Pat that sounds great but I’ve got stuff to do,” Virgil said. They were all looking at him then, Logan with his cool, matter-of-fact interest and Roman with a look that Virgil still hadn’t decrypted. The Prince would catch his eyes sometimes, especially across the room or in the middle of a group conversation, and Virgil felt cold and hot, invited and accused all at once. It was hard not to slip into a sneer and snap like he used to. Old habits die hard, especially in frightened animals, but Virgil wanted to be the light side they had invited him to be. That just hadn’t quite extended to movie nights and cookies yet, so he ducked his head and hustled off to his room, kicking it shut behind himself. He’d left the kitchen on a mission after all.

Virgil locked his door, pulling up his hood before walking over and sitting on the edge of his bed; he closed his eyes and smiled softly, his mind swimming with slow memories, nostalgia that skated like fingertips over his skin. His legs opened, an automatic response as he slid his hand down to palm himself through his jeans; tingling heat swam over him and he whined, his fingers quickly unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. He moaned at the relief of pressure but it was short-lived as he hardened fully. Virgil pulled himself free of his underwear and spat into his hand. More memories, more heat as he wrapped his slick hand over his cock and stroked slowly, letting out a little chuckle of disbelief at just how good it felt. Virgil was usually much more interested in being with somebody than touching himself—it required a certain amount of self-interest that he struggled with—but he was in a bit of a transitional period, new friends and new… faces.

Logan, Patton and Roman weren’t anything like the others, although Patton and Logan often wrestled for the top spot—at least that’s how it looked to Virgil when he was fresh from the subconscious, after he’d been accepted, but now he knew that Patton was in charge in a far different way than Deceit, especially considering Patton had little idea just how much sway he held over Thomas’ decisions. Then there was Roman, Remus’ parasitic twin—as they used to call him downstairs—but so completely different. Where Remus felt unshakable confidence, Roman was a ball of insecurity. Where Remus liked to sneak up on a conversation, Roman burst into the room like a confetti canon, scattering fanfare and nicknames. Where Virgil had found casual companionship in Remus, his feelings for about Roman were complicated at best, and terrifying at worst. When Roman had given his little speech of encouragement in Virgil’s room, it wasn’t his cock that twitched. It was his heart, and wasn’t that just the worst. At least with Remus, things were simple.

An easy moan escaped his lips and he couldn’t help but rock up into his hand, a slow sustained rhythm that he stopped only to gather the precum from the head of his cock and spread it downward. It used to always be this easy, smiles and moans and letting go. Anxiety was Thomas’ problem, and Virgil had always been happy to let it choke Thomas rather than analyzing, tweaking and dealing with it. Back then, he’d been Deceit’s—and Remus’, and he’d been a simpler, saucier creature. Even when he would mess up and get caught up in his own web of panic, and when Deceit’s gentle petting and encouraging words weren’t enough, Remus knew exactly how to fix the problem. Virgil’s smart little mouth had always been good for more than spitting vitriol and sarcasm, and Remus knew exactly how to drag it out—or push it in—in the best ways. Virgil raised his free hand and slipped two fingers into his mouth, moaning around them as he pressed against his tongue, thrusting them back and forth until they started to tickle that fluttery feeling in his chest, caught between swallowing and coughing, gagging and moaning—just like old times.

---

When Virgil came to him, Remus knew exactly what he wanted. His eyes were dark, red-rimmed and his lips were in a full pout, wet and reddened by chewing, absolutely begging, “What is it, Emo?”

Virgil unzipped his hoodie and shrugged it off, pulling his shirt over his head; he knelt in front of Remus, a question in his eyes, spilling out in a throaty whisper, “Are you busy?”

“Too busy for you? Never,” Remus said, sliding his fingers through Virgil’s hair, gathering it so he could take in Virgil’s face. He was pale, but a blush sat high on his cheeks, and his eyes were darker than usual, the black makeup smeared all the way down to his cheekbones and streaked down by a drying tear or two of frustration. Remus always thought this Virgil was the most beautiful, so true to himself, so overtaken by his purpose and his instincts that even Deceit couldn’t suppress him, and he was begging Remus to fuck his mouth and let the wild brambles of the anxious side’s mind grow uninhibited until Remus choked it all away.

Virgil’s full lips twitched into the tiniest wisp of a smile as he reached for Remus’ pants. The creative side slapped his hand away gently, and lost his clothes via magic. He would rather be naked anyway—given the chance. His cock, so familiar to Virgil by now, was just as eldritch as anything else Remus had any kind of control over, a tentacle that—according to the creative side—had a mind all its own. Virgil was fairly convinced that Remus was perfectly in control of himself, cock and otherwise. It traced Virgil’s lips and the anxious side opened his mouth, closing his eyes as the first hints of the familiar taste touched his tongue. He opened wider to accommodate the tapered organ as it pushed further, heavy on his tongue and writhing against every surface of his mouth, exploring and giving Virgil that familiar stomach flutter.

Remus’ hand at the back of his head made him calm, tension easing as Remus took control; all he had to do was be present. The taste of precum made him moan, and Remus pulled back, making Virgil lean forward to chase his cock. He was hungry for it, entirely tunnel-visioned, and Remus chuckled, “Impatient, Emo?”

“Please,” Virgil whined, his mouth feeling achingly empty around every sound he made. “Please Remus, I want it. Pl-“

His words were cut off when Remus thrust back in, and Virgil fought his gag reflex as Remus’ cock slid past the back of his tongue to bump against the back of his throat, one swift surprising movement. He opened his throat, eager to be filled, to be used. Remus’ cock squirmed in his throat and he relaxed more as he felt the skin of his throat stretch and bulge to accommodate the hot, heavy organ. He moaned as best he could, his voice warped and layered by the overwhelming juxtaposition of pleasure and humiliation. Virgil looked up at Remus with lust-heavy eyes, his cheeks hot and his eyes were burning with the promise of choked tears already.

Remus backed up just enough to let Virgil breathe, and he could feel a mix of precum and drool sliding down his chin. He sucked in a breathe before Remus was inside again, and his eyes rolled back to stare up at Remus, glassy and grateful. It went on like this, drooling and gagging and the occasional hissed praise from Remus while Virgil spun out into the warm, safe headspace where he could forget himself.

Remus reached down and took a handful of Virgil’s hair, pulling him backward. Virgil whined in complaint, Remus’ cock sliding against his cheek as he slowly lifted his face; he knew what Remus wanted, and he opened his mouth, letting his tongue loll out as Remus spat into his mouth.

“How’s it taste, Virgil?”

“So fucking good. Thank you, thank you,” Virgil slurred open-mouthed. He made a show of swallowing, tossing his head back.

Remus leaned down to licked Virgil’s bottom lip before capturing his mouth in a deep, possessive kiss that left Virgil breathless. He broke it and stood back up and Virgil leaned back, opening his mouth again to beg silently, knowing he was already a mess of drool and tears, beautiful and destroyed.

“Hungry tonight aren’t you, Emo?” Remus chuckled, his cock sliding back into Virgil’s mouth, sweet on his tongue as Remus made his first thrust, cutting off Virgil’s ability to breathe or even swallow. He looked down at Virgil, combing his hair back again. Virgil met his eyes, lost in Remus’ commanding gaze.

The racing of his heart replaced any of the unpleasant tightness in his chest, and Virgil fully relaxed when Remus reached down to place his hand on the side of Virgil’s neck, pressing against the bulge from outside. Virgil’s eyes rolled back and he closed them, melting away into sensation and heat, more of a plaything for Remus than a functioning being—and that’s how Virgil wanted it for now. Forgetting everything outside of this room, the sounds and tastes and smells of sex were like a merciful smokescreen.

And then Virgil felt the familiar signals, throbbing and lost rhythm, and he groaned in his chest, anticipating what was coming—literally. Remus always came so much, and Virgil could almost never swallow it all at once, but he always tried. After a few spurts Remus pulled back and shot across Virgil’s face while the anxious side eagerly swallowed what was in his mouth, “Yes Remus please give it to me, give me more, want to taste you!”

Remus growled as he thrust back into Virgil’s mouth and down his throat. Once. Twice, and then he pulled out, connected by a line of thick spit to Virgil’s wet lips. He knelt then, reaching to wrap his hand to palm Virgil through his pants. Virgil groaned and humped against Remus’ hand while the creative side cleaned his face, licking away the hot stripes of his spend. Remus captured his lips in a commanding kiss and Virgil got another mouthful of cum. He jerked in Remus’ grip as he came, choking as he swallowed and cried out at the same time. Remus muttered gentle nonsense as he rubbed Virgil through his orgasm and beyond, toying with the wet spot on Virgil’s jeans.

“Th-thank-“ Virgil stammered.

Remus stood and pulled Virgil to his feet, helping him to the bed where he was nestled in a pile of abandoned vellum and leather and silk. Remus kissed him on the nose and then gently stripped Virgil, “How about a nice hot springs full of demon octopi? Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“More demon octopi?” Virgil hummed with a smile. “I’d love that.”

Remus swept him up and sunk out, reappearing in one of his little corners of the imagination where the air was heavy with steam. Virgil sighed as he was lowered into hot water, muscles he didn’t know were tense melted into warm butter. “Anything else, Emo? A drink?”

Virgil stretched, “I wouldn’t say no to a pineapple juice.”

“Good idea, keep tasting sweet for me,” Remus mused, conjuring a glass and handing it to Virgil.

Virgil sank into the sensation as several red tentacles found his legs, waist and chest in a deep—astoundingly innocent—massage. He let his head fall back, “Thank you, Remus, so much.”

“For you, anything.”

---

Virgil squirmed when his hand alone wasn’t enough, frustrating and disappointing as he rutted in his bed, mussing his black sheets. The memory of a thousand touches only made him want more, and he grabbed his sweaty pillow and threw it across the room, not comforted in the least by his little outburst. He kicked off his shoes, struggling with his jeans and underwear but not bothering with his hoodie. He was pulled so perfectly between arousal and frustration that his hand moved of its own volition, squeezing and twisting in hopes of finding some sensation that would push past the plateau where he hovered in sensual agony.

Finally Virgil made himself stop just long enough to reach for the nightstand and yank open the drawer, fetching the toy he kept there. It was tapered, but it couldn’t compare to Remus’ size—or dexterity. He set it on his stomach and reached back for the lube, popping it open. He arched his back to get two slicked fingers into himself. The prep was quick, unceremonious and then he lubed up the toy, rolling onto his side and moaning involuntarily at the feel of it pressed at his entrance. He rocked down against it, deeper each time until it breached him, and he moved it manually then, in and out a few times before he got it positioned just right, turning on the vibrations. It was almost a relief to feel something, although it would never be enough. He cranked it up and his mouth fell open in a silent moan, his hips working as if he could get it deeper by will alone.

The toy was nowhere near as big as Remus, but when he rocked just right it nudged his prostate in a familiar way, and his body remembered as much as his mind—unfortunately his body remembered all too well exactly what it was missing. The girth, the weight and the heat. He wondered what Remus would say, watching him whine and writhe like an emptyheaded—and empty-assed—slut. He’d no doubt have a comment, and Virgil was almost glad the creative side wasn’t there to see him. There was no way—horny and even a little homesick in a super fucked up way—that he’d be able to resist Remus’ offers even though Deceit had made it very clear that Remus was on his side of the line in the sand.

Pushing bad memories away, Virgil let himself think about Remus’ cock, and the cold jab of Deceit faded—for the night, at least. The anxious side had always been a size queen; Remus wasn’t just enough to bulge his throat, and memories of the tight tug inside made him chew his bottom lip. He slipped his free hand down to his stomach where he would be able to feel Remus pushing, bumping into his palm with every thrust, knocking the breath—and several filthy words—out of him. He gasped now as if he could feel it, and his body shook, his eyes burning as he squeezed them shut, pressing a fist to his mouth. He wanted to be shamelessly loud, but shameless was never really Virgil’s specialty, even back then.

---

Virgil glanced around in the dim light as Remus tugged him along by his hand; they had snuck upstairs into the livingroom where Deceit forbade them to go. The sharp jaws of adrenaline had him by the throat, and fight or flight melted into nothing when Remus turned to face him, “Clothes off, Emo.”

Virgil shed his clothes tossing them in a pile on the floor as Remus magicked his own away, pulling Virgil in by the back of his neck. The kiss was feral, teeth and tongues and Virgil dug his blunt nails into Remus’ chest. When Remus pushed him to the couch, Virgil stammered, “H-how long do you think we have?”

Remus shrugged, “Deceit won’t be looking for us until tomorrow if we’re lucky.”

“I mean… the others.”

“You mean those light sides?” Remus purred. “Why? Want them to watch?”

Virgil blushed and the humiliation sent a pleasant spark through his body, but the time for talking was over—temporarily anyway. He moved into position on his knees, arms crossed to brace him against the arm of the couch. He relaxed into the position, trying to calm his racing heart until the touch of Remus’ hand on his back calmed him. Remus’ cock moved up against his own, a reminder of just how big he was, and Virgil reached down to stroke it lazily as Remus prepped him. Tentacles had never appealed to Virgil before he’d started things with Remus, but now the way it pressed into his touches and writhed like a sentient being—perhaps it was—was more than sexy, it was endearing, and Virgil couldn’t help the soft smile that stretched his lips. Remus was leaking precum already, much wetter than Virgil could get without at least a little assplay, and it made Virgil’s hand slick and sticky.

Remus pulled back then and Virgil almost complained, but then Remus’ cock was stretching him open and he let out a low, shuddering moan as he wrapped his hand around his own cock. The heavy member was undulating, writhing, massaging Virgil in all of the right ways, and he moaned into the couch arm, stroking himself slowly. It was more habit and comfort than out of a need to cum; when Remus was splitting him, there was no chance that he wouldn’t have an orgasm, sometimes multiple and often without much substantial warning. Then Remus was bottoming out, and Virgil could feel him so deep that he lowered his hand to his stomach where a familiar bulge was, crawling underneath his skin, “Fuck, Remus.”

“Isn’t it nice?” Remus purred. “Stretching you, filling you up like the hungry little slut you are. How’s it feel, Emo?”

“It’s… it’s—good!” Virgil hiccupped as Remus moved, drawing almost all the way out before snapping his hips forward and sinking back in, and the bulge retreated and returned, sending another ache of arousal through Virgil’s cock. “You know it’s good.”

“I like when you say it,” Remus said, settling into a staggered rhythm to keep Virgil guessing. “Besides, what else are we going to talk about?”

Virgil’s eyes rolled back and he bit his lip, letting out a nervous giggle, “The w-weather?”

“Too boring,” Remus said, smacking Virgil’s ass. “Unless you want me to conjure a tornado or something. I think we should talk about getting caught, don’t you? Those sticks in the mud won’t know what to do, seeing me fuck you in their space like this. I bet Patton will just fucking die right then and there. My brother will be jealous because he’ll never get close to anything as gorgeous as you, isn’t that right, Emo?”

Virgil yelped at a particularly deep thrust and the words spilled from him, “Remus we’re gonna… gonna get caught.”

“Telling me you wouldn’t like that? The looks on their faces?” Remus growled, tangling his fingers in Virgil’s hair and yanking his head back.

“I… I don’t know,” Virgil panted, too ashamed of the real answer.

Remus ran the nails of his free hand down Virgil’s back, “That’s what I thought. You like being my pretty little whore, don’t you? You’d love for me to show you off.”

“Shit,” Virgil growled, because it was true, and sometimes it terrified Virgil just how easily Remus could read him.

“You never disappoint, Emo,” Remus said. “And you always say all of my favorite words.”

“I haven’t said twatwaffle one time,” Virgil said, a smile on his lips.

Remus laughed, leaning down to kiss the back of Virgil’s neck, then up behind his ear; Remus got sweet when Virgil made him laugh. Deceit had told Virgil once it was the way to his heart—but that wasn’t where Virgil was aiming, so he shivered and pushed himself back into Remus’ thrusts. “Somebody’s impatient.”

“Come on, Remus,” Virgil said, as sweet and subby as he’d ever been. “Please give me your cock, please fuck me hard. It’s so good I want more, want everything.”

Remus growled in his throat and took Virgil’s bait, though he was far from trapped; he shoved Virgil’s face into the arm of the couch roughly and fucked into him with a renewed domination that made Virgil’s cock jump and leak and ache with arousal. “Is this what you want?”

“Yes,” Virgil muttered into the fabric. Remus’ nails were back in his back and he choked out a cry, “Yes! Yes please!”

Remus bit into Virgil’s shoulder as he came, and Virgil could feel it, hot and thick and there was a lot, filling him up like he’d begged for. He sobbed and barely had time to process the sensation before he himself was cumming, dirtying the couch under them and managing to milk more from Remus in the process until they were both rutting and growling like animals—and maybe animals is what they were. Remus pulled out and Virgil could feel the spend tickling down his inner thigh before Remus nudged him forward and he lifted his ass higher into the air, lowering his face into the couch cushions.

Remus’ tongue was hot and probably longer than it should be, but the way it felt had Virgil rocking back while the creative side sucked the cum out of him. When Remus pulled back Virgil whimpered, but soon he was being pushed onto his back and his mouth fell open. He looked up into Remus’ eyes, lolling out his tongue. Remus’ eyes darkened and he let the cum drool down into Virgil’s waiting mouth. Virgil’s eyes rolled back as the sensation fought against his own refractory period, and his cock gave a lazy twitch. Once he’d taken everything Remus offered, he rolled it around his mouth, curling his tongue at the corner of his mouth before finally closing and swallowing.

“Such a good boy”, Remus cooed, swiping his thumb through the cum that had escaped at the corner of Virgil’s mouth. He pressed his thumb into Virgil’s mouth and the anxious side eagerly sucked it clean, floating on the cloud of praise.

“Thank you,” Virgil said again, softer and with a deeper, warmer meaning. He stretched then reached up for Remus.

Remus lowered himself to kiss Virgil, quick and chaste—if anything they did could be called chaste. Virgil melted into the affection and let himself be held. The couch wasn’t particularly deep, but Remus managed to maneuver them into a comfortable spooning position, pulling Virgil against his chest. The beating of Remus’ heart and the sound of their breathing as it slowed to normal brought Virgil down gently, and when he’d had enough, he squirmed in Remus’ arms, turning onto his back as much as he could without falling off of the couch.

Remus watched Virgil’s face, prompting the anxious side to smile, “I’m good, just gonna take another second. You should go make sure Deceit’s not looking for us.”

“Perish the thought,” Remus said sarcastically, but he smiled as he climbed over Virgil to stand. “I’ll go make sure Snake Daddy is none the wiser.”

Virgil stretched out, licking his lips clean for the final time as Remus sank out. He sat up slowly, careful to wave away the wet spot before he grabbed his pants, pulling them on. Dressing wasn’t easy on shaky legs, but that made it more satisfying, especially layered with the possibility of getting caught.

As if on cue, Virgil’s ears caught the smallest drag of a shoe on the carpet. He spun around, eyes searching the darkness around him for a threat. Roman stood in the darkened doorway, hand on the hilt of his sword; his hair and eyes made it clear he’d probably been asleep—maybe at his desk the way Remus did sometimes. He was pretty, Virgil couldn’t deny that—dashing, maybe, but a poor imitation of Remus. The prince met Virgil’s eyes and Virgil hesitated, staring at the other side before pulling up his hood and sinking into the floor.

---

Suddenly the deep vibrations were too much, and Virgil cried out, reaching back to turn it off and take it out. He was shaking, unsure whether it was the memory of Remus or Roman that had caused the sudden spike. Virgil huffed in frustration, and his straining cock regained his attention. He couldn’t stop now just because he was trying to deny a possible partial crush on his old fuck buddy’s twin brother. Wrapping his hand back around himself, Virgil tried to slip away, find another memory to turn himself on just that last little bit. After three minutes of desperate self-searching, Virgil sighed, “Fuck.”

He let that little mental block fade away, and the memory turned to fantasy, and the thrill of it zinged up into his chest and down to his toes, making them curl. He worked himself a bit slower, letting things play out.

---

Virgil locked eyes with Roman, in the dark, and Roman’s nose wrinkled, just a little, because he knew. The prince unsheathed his sword, stepping forward and holding it to Virgil’s throat, “Care to explain yourself, foul fiend?”

Virgil took a half-step back and sank to his knees; Roman looked pleased with himself, but his mouth fell open in surprise when Virgil nuzzled his cock through his pants. He tensed, but rather than taking a step back, he sheathed his sword and rested his hand on the back of Virgil’s head. Virgil undid Roman’s pants easily, pulling his cock free and covering it in kisses and kitten licks until the Prince was fully hard and pushing at the back of Virgil’s head. Virgil hummed and took Roman into his mouth and down his throat. He tasted nothing like Remus, none of the tingling magic eldritch qualities, but more like a man with impeccable hygiene who also spends the better part of his days trapesing through enchanted forests, earthy and spiced and—for lack of a better term—masculine.

Roman growled, and Virgil gagged when he thrust forward, holding Virgil in place. Whether it was warped hate, or Roman was just naturally rough, Virgil was lost in it. He managed to pull back when Roman allowed him to breathe, “Fuck!”

Roman smirked, “What’s the matter, Anxiety? Too big?”

Virgil laughed breathlessly, rocking back onto his heels and standing. He stripped off his clothes and moved to the couch, reaching to brace himself on the couch arm. Strong hands took his hips and moved him like he was weightless, and before Virgil knew it he was on his back with Roman slotted between his legs. He closed his eyes tightly and turned his face away. “What are you looking at?”

Roman snorted, and lips on Virgil’s collarbone made his bottom lip tremble, “Where’d that brave little monster go?”

Virgil bristled and leaned up, capturing Roman’s lips in a rough kiss and biting down on his bottom lip. Roman tangled his fingers into Virgil’s hair and pulled. Virgil gasped when Roman broke the kiss and looked down to line himself up. “Fuck yeah give it to me,” Virgil whispered, following the Prince’s actions with eager eyes.

Roman hesitated for a moment, spitting in his palm and running it hastily over his cock before slipping inside. Virgil threw his head back as it spun, Roman’s cock pushing in while he was still slicked up inside. He met Roman’s eyes, and groaned, “That’s his… it’s your brother’s cum. You know that right? Can you feel it?”

Roman’s nose wrinkled, but more in anger than disgust, and he spat in Virgil’s face, making Virgil moan like a shameless whore as he arched his back. Roman’s first proper thrust was rough, fast and it knocked him out of the fantasy completely.

----

The orgasm was heavy and sudden, like a punch to the chest and Virgil panted as he wrung himself out, his free hand fisting in the sheets, “Jesus, Princey,” Virgil muttered into the stillness.

Well and truly overstimulated, his nerves singing like they always did, but without the comforting warmth and weight of another body. He ran his fingers through the spend on his stomach, savoring the sight as yet another wave of nostalgia rolled over him, weaker than the others, but undeniably present as Virgil sucked his fingers clean, sighing at the rapidly-fading sex high.

Virgil heard a familiar sound and turned his head to look at the door, opened just a crack, “You just gonna watch again?”

Roman moved forward, pushing the door open further with his foot. He was of course more put together than the night they saw one another in the dark living room. Not quite the picture of smirking valiance Virgil imagined, not a hero looking to dominate a villain. Nonetheless, the Prince looked willing, and Virgil was ready to move on and make new memories, as painful as it could be to accept change. What did he have to lose?

#not safe for sanders #no minors #dukexiety #prinxiety #commissioned work #fanfiction

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

Humans are Space Orcs, “Medical Instruction Vd 1″

First day back at school, so forgive me for being short :)

“Before we get started, I just wanted to make sure that it is known that all parties involved in these videos have agreed to let me use their footage for training purposes, though they may not be used for anything else in accordance with Human Medical Privacy Laws. These tapes will go directly to the intergalactic college of interspecies biology and medicine. Those who are found to use this footage in any way contrary to its original purpose will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law”

The camera turns on shaking form side to side over the floor spinning quickly from the right and then to the left before finally leveling out on an image of a hallway. The Vrul scuttles along the floor with great purpose small fleet clattering against the cold metal. He turns to look at the camera, “I just got a call up the Medical bay for a human in significant respiratory distress also complaining of chest pain, so we are going to head up there and see what is going on. Now I have been the operational medical officer aboard this ship for a while now, and I have seen almost everything there is to see. Doing medicine for humans is…. Well it’s a wild ride simply because of their combination of durability and breakability. They break horribly easily and in horrific ways, but are able to live through it when they do, and that leaves it up to the medical staff to make sure that they are quickly treated so that the shock of their injuries doesn’t send them down the road of you know…. Not being alive.”

They hurried up a hallway following after the little doctor pausing for a few seconds before the medical bay doors which opened with a hiss. A wave of sound washes over the camera, people talking and someone breathing rather heavily. The camera pans up to show a group of humans gathered around a third sitting on the edge of one of the hospital beds. They are breathing fast and heavy a hand on their chest eyes wide panicked.

The crowd opens up as the little doctor walks in.

“What do we have?”

“30 year old male with racing heart, difficulty breathing, tingling hands, dizziness, and chest pain.”

The human was breathing even harder now looking around frantically, “I….I….I’m dying….. I think I’m having a heart attack…..I can’t breathe.”

“Alright, let’s get an EKG going first thing.” The little doctor gets to work very quickly all four arms working as he begins to speak, “Now the obvious worry here is the case of chest pain, which in humans can be an indication of a heart attack. Now the heart is a very major organ in a human, and acts as a pump to move blood around the body. The blood contains oxygen and infection fighting cells etc. With a heart attack one of those little vessels in the organ is blocked, usually by plaque or fatty deposits causing death in parts of the heart muscle. Now this human is generally too young and too fit for any of that to happen…” He turns to the human, “Is there a history of heart attack or heart disease in your family?”

The human shakes their head.

“Has this every happened to you before?”

Another head shake.

The doctor ripped off a couple of sticky white circles and attached them to the human’s chest, “Now this will give us a good look of what is going on in there.” There was a pause for a minute as they continued working.

The doctor glanced at the instruments once the information began coming in, “Alright, so this is good news, the heart IS beating fast, but there does not appear to be any blockage, and it is not fast enough to be considered tachycardia. Also their blood oxygen level is within acceptable range meaning that it isn’t likely to be some other issue. Now that leaves our post likely option as being a panic attack.”

He walked over to the human to get their attention, “Do you have a history of anxiety disorder in your family?”

“A few …. Uncles.” He panted, “But it has to be…. A heart attack.”

“Well your heart is actually fine. I think in this case you ARE having a panic attack, now you are alright, this can happen to anyone not just people with a disorder, ok. Now just humor me, and I and I want you to take in one big breath counting to seven, hold it for five and then blow out at five seconds.” The human looked very skeptical, but at the order of the doctor they began.

He left the instruction to one of the other attendees, “You see, this is actually quite common in humans. Emotional functions are very closely intertwined with their physical functions mostly due to their greatly superior fight or flight mechanism. Humans have a very quick physical reaction to panic that causes the heart to beat faster, digestion to shut down and the pupils to dilate. The breathing will also speed up as you have seen. The problem is the human body reacts to the stress of being chased by a predator in the same way it reacts to, social stress, or an approaching deadline.

In this cause stress, and an elevated heart rate could have trigged a panic attack, where the body is having these physical symptoms despite the brain, and now they are trying to figure out an explanation. They generally assume they are having a heart attack or that something else horrible is about to happen, even if it is not.

He turned back to check on the human, whose heart rate had gone down a bit. They were looking a little better, but there still seemed to be a way to go.

“We are just going to have him continue this breathing exercise which is designed to activate the parasympathetic nervous system and calm down the feelings of anxiety and panic. I always find it interesting that the one thing that makes humans the best and dealing with extreme stress, is also the one thing that makes them crumble under more mild states of stress.

***

“So we have been called in again this time, we have a 25 year old male presenting with, extreme abdominal pain, vomiting, nausea, and a low grade fever.” The doctor walked in wearing more protective gear than he had last time. The camera pans up to another human lying on one of the beds curled into a ball moaning, face screwed up in pain, hands clutched around his middle rocking slowly back and forth in a writhing sort of way. One of the other doctors had placed a metal bowl by the human’s head as they groaned.

The doctor moved forward and had the human roll onto his back, though the human did not seem as if he wanted to. The alien doctor listened to the human’s innards, and then began lightly pressing on the abdominal cavity. As soon as he did, the human yelped in pain and curled up again looking as if he was about to be sick.

“Abdominal pain in the lower right quadrant, I would wager to say this is probably a case of appendicitis.” The doctor motioned for one of the orderlies to grab a machine and roll it over, “Now the human appendix is a part of the intestines that was long thought to be useless or a vestigial structure that humans used more when they had to clear large amounts of plant material through their digestive tract. In many cases it acts as a blind pocket that sometimes collects bacteria and then becomes inflamed. You CAN fix it with antibiotics, but the general consensus is removal.” He pulled the machine into position, using a short wand covered in cold gel to pass over the human’s skin just above the problem spot.

“Ah, just like I thought, you see that right there.” He pointed to the screen, “This right here is the inflammation being caused by the infection, and the reason that the human is going to be in so much pain right now. I would suggest at this point that we just go in and remove it with a simple laparoscopic appendectomy. As far as procedures goes, this one is actually relatively easy and should take no more than a few minutes for me to perform. Now before you go questioning me about the time frame for this surgery, I do remind you that I am the most experienced surgeon in the galaxy. I guarantee the prep for this surgery will take longer than my ability to actually preform it.”

The human groaned.

“Don’t worry, we will have you fixed up almost immediately.”

***

“I find that there are a few general things you want to look for when treating humans. The first big one is energy level. Your average human is going to be very…. Sharp you will see it in the eye and head movements, they will, or should be very energetic with their head and arm movements, especially around the chest and shoulders. Humans like using their hands to talk. A lot of the time you can tell something is wrong with a human when they are listless and slow to respond. You may see their eyes wandering and they won’t focus on you, now some humans behave that way, but your average human will generally try to make eye contact with you at some point. Watch to make sure they are supporting their own heads, or does it seem to be bobbing or tilting in one way or another. A few other things is a general change in appetite from what is considered usual. A stressed or sick human may eat too little or too much. If your human appears confused or is having trouble answering simple questions, you will want to check them over straight away. As I said before, a sick human might appear listless, lethargic, they will tend to sleep a lot, and they may be irritable. I would make it a point to warn most students about that fact when dealing with humans, sometimes in cases of serious injury humans tend to act in anger to pain, so they might try to fight you off or to get away, especially if the pain is really bad, they are sort of resorting back to their more baser instincts. Occasionally you may have to strap them down, or even sedate them , while there are a few humans who like comfort when they are in pain, there is a large group of them who do not like to be touched or talked to when they are. I would say that is also an important thing to note, both psychological and physical pain can cause a human to isolate themselves form you, so just make sure you are watching for those signs because they can be indicators that something is seriously wrong.”

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trashscenariihxh · 4 years

Text

NSFW Illumi/Reader

Based off of the request: illumi nsfw where he rewards his wife

The instant you learned that your husband was coming home, you went to the bedroom to wait for him, just as he liked. It was late, anyway. Too late to greet him at the door. The baby had long since gone to sleep, too, so there was nothing to be done but wait. Illumi preferred it this way.

When the sound of footsteps heralded Illumi’s arrival, you stood, ready to greet him. You heard his footsteps pause as he peeked into the baby’s room before continuing down the hallway.

Illumi never truly smiled when he saw you, but by now you knew enough of his mannerisms to recognize the tiny hint of warmth that came to his eyes. Or at least, you liked to believe it was there. Regardless of his feelings, you smiled and opened your arms for him as you’d been taught so many times.

“You’re back!” You wrapped your arms around Illumi in a soft embrace. He reciprocated; his arms encircled your body and held you close. It was a facsimile of intimacy, but you’d grown to accept it.

“Yes.” He stated, drawing back and regarding you with those black, infinitely deep eyes of his and running a cool, calloused finger down your cheek. “Did you miss me?”

You nodded. “Yes.” There had once been a time when you’d treasured the short periods of solitude that came when Illumi left on assignments, but now you found yourself aching for him whenever he left. Not just for his touch, his presence.

“Good.” Illumi gave you what you hoped was a look of approval. “You saw the doctor yesterday.”

You nodded.

“And?”

“He said everything is well. My body has recovered nicely, and we can...” You felt your face heat up. You’d given birth to your first child several months ago, much to Illumi’s delight, but complications had kept you from being intimate with your husband for much longer than intended. You’d often wondered if he’d missed the intimacy, but Illumi had given no indication of being frustrated with having to wait. His current enthusiasm (as much as he could muster), fueled your suspicions that he might have been silently suffering.

“Take off your clothes and get on the bed.” As always, Illumi got straight to the point. Perhaps he had missed the intimacy, after all.

Your eyes widened at his bluntness. “But, Illumi-”

He cocked his head to the side as his eyes bored into yours. “Is there a problem?”

“N-no.” You shook your head, already beginning to slip out of your clothes. “No problem.”

Naked, you stretched out on the bed and stared at the ceiling as you listened to the rustle of Illumi’s clothes falling to the ground. The mattress shifted as he joined you on the bed, and soon Illumi was on top of you, his hands planted on either side of your head as his eyes locked onto yours.

“____...” He stared down at you, unblinking, and you felt yourself withering under his gaze as his eyes swept over your body. It had been months since he’d seen you like this, naked and exposed beneath him; you wondered if the changes to your body disappointed him. You shifted slightly, opening your legs a little wider to better accommodate your husband’s body, but instead of lowering himself onto you, Illumi drew back and sat back on his heels.

“What is it?” You gave him a confused look.

“You look different.” Illumi’s impassive gaze continued to sweep over you, his eyes momentarily pausing on your breasts and stomach. Instinctively, you moved to cover yourself, cheeks burning in shame, but Illumi stopped you with a word. “Don’t.” He reached forward to run a hand down your body, seemingly enjoying the way his fingertips pressed into your now-soft stomach.

You bit your lower lip when he turned his attention to your breasts, letting his fingertips skim over your sensitive nipples. He seemed to like the little gasps that his touch drew out of you, and leaned forward again to press his lips against your soft skin.

You shivered when his lips moved to your neck and he began to press soft kisses against the sensitive flesh; this was new.

“You’re a good wife,” Illumi murmured into your ear, settling between your thighs and lining himself up with your entrance. “You’ve been so, so good.” Obedient. He pushed into you, his breath hitching at the unexpected resistance he encountered as your muscles clenched around him; it took him three thrusts to fully bottom out.

Any question you might have had about whether or not he’d be gentler with you now was quickly answered when he immediately began to thrust roughly into you. You cried out and grabbed his pale shoulders, desperate for some semblance of stability as your body was jostled by the sheer force of this thrusts. The room was soon filled with the harsh wet slaps of skin on skin as he rocked against you. Your moans and gasps joined the cacophony; Illumi was relentless- you’d forgotten just how hard he used to fuck you, how deep he could get. Clinging to him still, you thrust your hips up to meet his, wrapping your legs around his slim waist in an attempt to gain a sliver of control.

It was too much. Illumi’s cock was continuously slamming against your most sensitive areas making your cunt throb and clench around him. “Illu-mi,” you panted, releasing your grip on his shoulders to thread them through his hair, “please...” You weren’t sure what you were asking for, exactly, but pleas spilled forth from your lips as your husband continued to fuck you. You felt so helpless, pinned beneath him, with so little say in the pace he set for you.

You must have unintentionally tugged his hair, because Illumi pulled his face from the junction of your neck and shoulder and fixed you with an unyielding stare. His pace did not let up in the slightest. You began to release your grip on his hair, but he surprised you by covering your mouth with his own, swallowing your pleas.

Something about the sudden, unexpected intimacy pushed you over the edge upon which you’d been balancing so precariously; you came with a moan, tightening your grip on your husband’s hair and wrapping yourself around him as tightly as possible. Illumi fucked into you for a while longer, once again resting his forehead against your shoulder as his breaths grew increasingly ragged. The months of celibacy had taken their toll on his stamina; Illumi came with a shuddering gasp as he pressed himself as deeply inside you as he could go, collapsing on top of you soon after.

You didn’t expect him to linger next to you after he finished, and Illumi didn’t surprise you. As soon as his breathing returned to normal, he sat rose, wordlessly walking into the bathroom. You sighed when you heard the sound of the shower being switched on. You felt sore, far sorer than you’d expected to. It almost felt like the first time. Illumi’s release had begun to leak out of you, but you grimaced at the thought of getting up to clean yourself off. Everything ached too much.

Besides, you thought to yourself, rolling onto your back and hugging your knees to your chest, Illumi would probably approve if you kept him inside you for longer. You smiled to yourself. He’d called you a good wife. It had been the first time you’d received such a compliment. With any luck, you’d hear it again soon.

#smuttastic #illumi zoldyck #tw pregnancy #tw pregnancy mention #illumi is awkward

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nightglider124 · 4 years

Text

Simulation

So, like most people... I was not impressed with the newest and last in the series DCAMU movie; JLD: Apokolips War.

It was honestly like some kind of awfully written fanfic. I hated it and my otp were literally tormented, so not a fan lmao.

So, I did what most writers do in these scenarios. I wrote a bit of a fix it fic. It’s cliche and similar to ‘it was all a dream’ but it felt like a bit more of a believable route. They did it in YJ so I thought why not.

Anyway, I hope this helps as some kind of comfort after watching that atrocious piece of garbage. ^.^

____________________________________________________

The light filled the entirety of the sky, stroking licks of gold and blinding white all across the planes of existence, swelling and growing until it was suffocating everything and everyone that was within its path.

It was enveloping them by the second, growing stronger and stronger and despite how hard Damian narrowed his eyes to try and catch one last fleeting glimpse of Flash sprinting across the ocean, in an attempt to reset their fractured timeline, the struggle was becoming one he could not control.

His chest felt tight, like all the air was slowly being released from his lungs and his heart was hammering, right against his ribcage.

Casting a glance over his shoulder, he watched as Clark and Diana shielded their eyes from the onslaught of light that was swallowing them up. When he turned his head towards his father, however, he found Batman staring straight back at him, as if he knew something the others did not; something that he wanted Damian to piece together himself.

His head was filled with so many things; memories, information… emotions.

No matter how much he tried to push it away, there was a weight in his heart. He had survived this ordeal with Darkseid, as well as those who currently surrounded him, even though the numbers were a little less than he had hoped for when they began the secondary crusade at redemption for those they had lost to the Apokoliptic tyrant two years prior.

And yet, he didn’t feel like it was a victory. It felt bittersweet. They had finally won but at what cost?

Half of humanity had been eradicated from existence or molded into some kind of slave herd to do Darkseid’s bidding for him. His friends, his team, his family; all of it had been ripped away from him and there was no coming back from it. There was no way to salvage what had happened, no matter what Kent was trying to spew as a pep talk.

The morale was empty and at that moment, waiting for the effects of the flashpoint to seize control of their world and rectify the magnitude of problems felt like an eternity but they had to wait; to simply sit and wait for their absolution and for the world to restart, not that any of them would remember.

That would probably be for the best. He didn’t want to remember living in this kind of dystopian future where everywhere he looked, there was destruction and roaring flames accompanied by an unsettling silence where in its stead should have been the reverberation of crowds and people, living their lives on a day to day basis.

Damian sighed and from where he sat, he glanced at Raven, dressed in her white uniform and cloak. He wasn’t sure how they’d gotten to this point in their relationship and it felt… unusual to him, like something wasn’t right, including where his feelings were concerned in accordance to the girl beside him.

He cared for her deeply; she was a teammate, his friend but anything more? He couldn’t be certain.

Shaking his head, Damian decided not to dwell, knowing whatever he was feeling would soon be erased and he would wind up with a completely different mindset in just a few minutes.

He scanned his surroundings from beneath his mask and his eyes fell upon his former team leader and his… brother.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Damian couldn’t stop how the weight became heavier, pulling his heart down towards his stomach like a wrecking ball was attached.

Raven was right. He had promised not to use the Lazarus Pit to revive Dick but, when everything was said and done and the dust had settled on the Titans joint demise, having tried their damndest to ensure Darkseid wouldn’t break their defenses and claim Earth, he felt cheated.

He had finally found a family who accepted him, flaws and all and he was supposed to just accept having them brutally torn away from him?

He couldn’t leave his brother there. He couldn’t just leave Dick lying there in a pool of his own blood, still trickling out from the wound in his chest.

Damian had wanted to save all of them but he knew time had been of the essence. The quicker someone can be taken to the pit, the more likely it is that they will return as themselves. Or at least, that was what his grandfather had told him once as a boy.

He hadn’t known how true it was or even if it was true at all but he had gotten Dick to the temple as quickly as he could.

Not that it had mattered in the end.

He’d gotten there too late. His heart had held hope that he would return to the living, just as he was but it wasn’t to be.

Damian exhaled through his nose and allowed the memory of that day to fade. He didn’t need to relive that as well. The straight jacket Dick constantly wore was reminder enough as to why he had immediately regretted using the pit.

There are some things worse than death. He knew that now. Too bad it was about two years too late.

His eyes wandered across Kory’s face and his brows furrowed, aghast at what Darkseid had done to her. After he had returned ‘home’ to the League of Assassins, or what was left of it at least, he hadn’t looked back; didn’t have any knowledge of what had become of his dead teammates.

Some of them remained dead whilst others had purposes that did not expire when their lives had. Darkseid had ensured the strongest were put to work amongst his ranks, whether they wanted to or not.

Kory had become one of his guards, with most of her body replaced with parts and machinery, perfecting her into a loyal, brainwashed slave; something Kory had once told him that she never wanted to be again.

Damian watched as Kory gently stroked some of Dick’s hair out of his face. His head rested on her lap whilst twitching and mumbling every now and then, his mind a warped version of what it had once been before any of this. It ticked overtime for different reasons now.

He saw the hesitation, recognised the look of someone who now viewed themself as some kind of monster. She was careful of her hands, her fingers now replaced with metal daggers that looked sharp enough to cut steel if given the chance.

Kory lowered her hand and stared down at Dick, who was yet to wake from his tormented slumber. Damian took solace in the fact he had seemed to recognize Kory, somewhat.

When he had brought him to Titans tower where, what was left of their backup plan party, decided to rendezvous, he had been manic and animalistic, hissing and trying to attack those around him who he had once called friends.

Damian hadn’t been sure if it was a good idea but his father had suggested it, to start on resolving the problems caused from this apocalyptic fallout.

When Kory had stepped forth, her lime eyes lingering on her love, Damian had seen tears; uncommon when it came to Kory considering her warrior upbringing. It caused her pain, of that he knew, if only from the way her footing faltered and she stayed back, in fear; something she had never ever felt around Dick in the life they’d shared before.

But, Dick had surprised them all, staring at her for a long moment and it gave him a strange flicker of hope that possibly, a piece of the real Dick was still in there somewhere, lost amongst all the mess in his mind.

He had still been hesitant as she offered a hand to him. He jerked back but then stepped forward until he let her lead him to where they sat now. Damian was certain that things may change when he woke up but for now, it seemed to be enough for Kory just to spend these last few minutes with him, unaware of what awaited them in the new timeline Barry was creating.

Just a few minutes of peace, sitting there with one another.

Damian looked away, suddenly feeling like he was intruding on something private to the couple, if he could even call them that anymore.

His eyes shifted to the ocean, stretching wide and untouched in front of them, mother nature clearly protecting her own. The waves were gentle, flowing and ebbing and repeating. It seeped forward, water rushing over the bed of sand at the edge of the island before it retreated back from where it came.

Suddenly, there was a resounding pulse that rocked the air around them and a ringing in his ears started growing louder with each passing moment. The sound was becoming piercing and unbearable, so much so he had to lift a hand to one of his ears and grind his teeth in an effort to make it stop.

The ground beneath their feet shook wildly as existence prepared to repair what had been damaged. That light that had been burning in the distance shone brighter, stretching over their heads now and soaring in from behind them as well, fully encompassing the last of the world’s greatest heroes and everything in the area, sentient or not.

Damian gulped again, his mind confirming that Barry had done it and reality was resetting itself.

His skin felt sharp and he felt lightheaded, unable to make out any shapes or sounds around him anymore. His arms felt like they were being pulled away from his body, like something was expanding in his chest.

Damian willingly allowed what he assumed was the erasure of his being. He let a sigh of relief slip from between his lips as he finally felt himself disappearing into nothingness, along with all the other heroes around him.

Squeezing his eyes tightly closed, he waited for their finality to come.

He was ready for it to change; go back to how it was before… before any of this.

No one deserved a fate such as this one. _______ Damian’s eyes snapped open and he gasped a haggard breath, his heart beating a mile a minute as all he could see was the blurred lights from the ceiling above his head.

His fingers dug into what felt like sheets beneath him as he struggled to control his rapid breaths.

“Damian.”

He recognized the steel tone of his father and he shot upward, moving fast enough to make his head spin.

Remembering his training since the age of two years old, he took a deep breath and exhaled through his nostrils, taking charge of his body once again.

He narrowed his eyes and pressed a hand to his temple, tiling his chin upward to see his father, wearing the cowl, sat just on the end of the little makeshift bed he appeared to be in.

“It’s alright, Damian… you’re back now. Everything is fine.” Bruce explained, nodding and giving no emotion away under the bat guise he had grown so comfortable in.

“Back?” Damian paused, “Back where?”

“In the real world. The simulation is over. The others are starting to wake up.” Batman informed him before he stood up and looked down upon his son,

Damian only just now was noticing exactly where he was.

High tech lined against the walls, the view of the solar system outside the huge glass windows and the metal paneling along the computer systems was enough to drag him straight back to reality. The watchtower wasn’t a place that a person could easily forget.

Turning his body, he watched as his friends; the Titans started to come to from their unconscious states as well.

“Ugh… Bruce, when you said… you wanted us to go through training simulation… that was a lot different than what I thought you had in mind.” Dick groaned from his place several beds over from where Damian sat,

Nightwing sat up, rubbing his forehead and shaking his head as if getting over the remnants of a bad dream. He rolled his shoulders back before checking on each and every member of their team, all of them in a similar position to how he was sat.

Donna was sitting with her legs crossed, Raven too and on the other side of them, Gar was still lying down but with an arm thrown across his face, moaning with nausea symptoms.

Kon, Jaime and Wally were already quietly murmuring between themselves over what they had just gone through and witnessed.

Dick turned his head to the left, his heart racing at some sounds he just knew belonged to Kory. He smiled softly as he watched her rub her head, fingers sliding through her long auburn hair that pooled beautifully down her back.

“Ow… that was... much more brutal than I had anticipated…” Kory grunted, stretching her arms above her head in an attempt to make her mind less muzzy.

“How are you all feeling?” Diana asked, addressing them all as she stood at the panel, clicking a few buttons to ensure the simulation had ended properly as well as making sure no one was still unconscious.

“Like I just got smacked in the head with a shovel…” Gar voiced, whining as he forced himself into a sitting position,

“That will pass in a few minutes. It took Vic a long time to figure out how to make this program without it having a lasting effect on us.” Superman told them, offering them one of his gentle smiles.

“Clark… what was this?” Dick asked, his brows furrowed as he stared at the man of steel, “I mean… now that I’m awake… I have it coming back to me that this was part of a… training exercise but after seeing… everything we just saw in there… I’d say it’s a little overboard just for mandatory training.”

Superman sighed, losing the smile and he stared up at the images now lit upon the hologram screen behind him. There were photos of Darkseid and his homeworld, with some recent footage of said tyrant moving across planets in the furthest parts of the galaxy.

“Recently, there has been movement on Apokolips and footage was retrieved of Darkseid… taking control of three planets in his own dimension. They were small and lacked much life.”

“But there was some life on those planets, right? Kory murmured, her brows knitted together in concern,

Clark nodded solemnly, “There was, Kory. To us, right now… Darkseid is not a threat. To the best of our knowledge, he isn’t considering Earth as a target to take control of. But, that could change, very quickly.”

“We don’t take his recent movements lightly and we’ve begun preparing different strategies and plans for when the time is right.” Bruce continued, his dark cape curling around his feet as he moved, “The simulations that just played out… they were completely in your mind, programmed by Vic for you to witness, as if you were there and what the possible outcomes could be, should we take the route that was created in this scenario.”

“Isn’t that… a bit overkill? To design a program simply to test possibilities that might just be… hypothetical?” Jaime queried, dragging his knee to his chin as he stared at the three Justice League members.

Superman made a small noise of apprehension before he looked back up, his eyes glossing over each and every member of the Titans, “None of you have ever had to face Darkseid… thankfully. He is… an interdimensional despot who holds immense power. He is not a criminal to be taken lightly. All the things you saw in this simulation are things he has been known to do to those planets he has already desecrated. Brutality and violence are his weapons and we need to be prepared for any situation involving him.”

“These simulations are only being tested on the Justice League and Titans when we feel we may have mapped a possibly victorious battle plan. They will be few but this was one that had been considered, early on in our knowledge of what Darkseid has been doing.” Wonder Woman elaborated,

“But that plan clearly didn’t work… so why would you show it to us?” Raven asked, her dark eyes brushing across Clark who had apparently become her travelling companion when the world went down the drain in the simulation,

“We wanted to show you so that you can help us to rectify where… we may have gone wrong in the plan.” Clark told them,

Damian folded his arms over his chest, “It was probably taking the war to Darkseid without realizing how dangerous it would be which in the simulation, you already seemed to realize once it was too late.” He paused and thought back on something from the simulation, “Oh and… there was the fact Darkseid knew the whole plan from hacking Cyborg’s cybernetic eye.”

Superman nodded his head, “Yes, we’re… talking to Victor about preventing this. It would have probably ended differently in the simulation, had Darkseid not learned everything before the plan was executed.”

“You can’t plan for what you don’t know yet.” Raven reminded them,

Clark gave her a smile, “No, but we can try in order to keep our future as far away from the possibility of what you just lived through.”

The Titans nodded amongst themselves, understanding their efforts and all secretly hoping they wouldn’t have to face anything like what they’d seen for a long time or ever, if the universe deemed them lucky.

“I can’t believe I died right at the start!” Gar complained, his playful nature reinserting some lightheartedness where it was desperately needed, “I mean… a guy plays all the video games in the world and I can’t even make it?”

Raven smirked and glanced at him, “I don’t think video games and Darkseid are exactly the same, Gar.”

He huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, “Yeah, well. I’m not happy about it! I want a redo!”

Damian rolled his eyes before raising a brow at him, “You want to live through that all again?”

Gar paused and blinked several times before grinning sheepishly, “Uh… on second thought… I’m good. Sad I went out that early but y’know what… I’m good!”

“If you’re all feeling a little more with us now, come into the hall. We want your feedback.” Batman told them, leading the way into the hall, followed by Diana and then the Titans, with Superman politely showing them the way through the watchtower.

“Feedback on this training? Hm… that would be a solid 0/10, Bruce.” Dick muttered as he helped Kory hop down from the medical bed she had been perched upon, earning a quiet giggle from her,

Clark smiled at the two as they continued after the other Titans, right on Batman’s heels to give their input into what the Justice League were planning, in case of an emergency.

_______________

Gar’s mouth stretched wide as he lifted his arms over his head and yawned loudly, earning an elbow in the stomach from Donna as she passed him,

“Ow! Hey! What’d I do?” He grumbled, rubbing the spot she had hit,

“Do you really have to be that loud, Gar?” She laughed, shaking her head, “Just yawn like a normal person, would you?”

He smirked, flashing a fang in her direction, “Nah, there’s no fun in that.”

Kory cleared her throat before they could all escape in opposite directions to their respective bedrooms, “Titans. I need to speak with you all for a moment, please.”

The group exchanged glances between one another, curiosity washing over each of them before they shuffled towards the couch, situated just in front of the large window panes where the moonlight was already beginning to filter through.

“Are… we in trouble? Whatever it is… I didn’t do it.” Kon rebuffed, immediately holding his hands up in defense as he took a seat on the edge of the sofa,

“Me either!” Gar and Jaime added simultaneously,

Kory smiled softly and shook her head at them, walking around until she stood before them, “No. You’re not in trouble; any of you.”

“So… what do you want to talk to us about, Kory?” Raven queried, giving her leader a small smile,

“I wanted to talk to you about what happened today.”

Gar’s brows knitted together, “You mean the training over at the watchtower?”

The Princess nodded her head, her long red locks falling over her shoulder.

Damian narrowed his eyes, equally perplexed and confused as his teammates, “What about it?”

Kory took a deep breath and folded her arms over her chest, “Well… the things in the simulation that happened, that you saw… it was…” She paused and tried to grapple for the correct word,

“Pretty traumatic.” Dick interjected, aiding her and coming to stand by her side, having a feeling he knew what Kory was aiming for with this little chat, “And, it’s okay if it affected you guys. God knows… it was a lot for a training session based on possibility.”

Instead of doing what the adult Titans thought they would, the younger roster of heroes remained silent, all of them contemplating and reflecting on what they had been witness to whilst under the spell of the simulation.

Kory frowned and her brows wrinkled before she looked to Dick, who only matched her facial expression.

“I mean… I joked about being murdered by those parademon things so early on in it but… it was pretty scary. The simulation was designed differently so we didn’t wake up as soon as we died inside of it. I had to watch it all unfold… like some kind of horror movie… not so cool when it’s your friends being killed instead of fictional characters.” Gar mumbled, his jade eyes focused on the coffee table before them with his hands pressed firmly to his thighs.

Jaime nodded, “It was… espantoso. It just… went south so quickly.”

Donna made a noise of agreement and shuddered, as if gripped by a memory from the simulated battle. Wally looked off to the side, unable to speak about what he felt, just yet anyway.

Kon lifted his chin and his usual boisterous and cheeky demeanour had slipped, “I don't know if it was worse or not… living longer in that world wasn’t much fun either.” He gently reached a gloved hand to his neck and he closed his eyes, “I can still remember how… my neck…”

He coughed and shook his head, clamming up from talking through the experience of it all.

Kory looked towards Raven and tilted her head, as if encouraging her to speak about how she had felt, “Raven?”

She lifted her head and lowered the hood of her cloak from her head, “I… It was… I’ve seen terrible things before. Being the daughter of an interdimensional demon will do that but this… it was barbaric and I hope it never actually comes to pass.”

Dick nodded, “Well… this is why the league is trying to come up with a more solid plan, a way to be ready should Darkseid be a problem we need to worry about.” He paused and shrugged, “Safe to say… Clark’s plan of going head on into a war with Darkseid on his home world is no longer the plan on the table.”

“There were too many inconsistencies and problems with his plan. But, it would have been intriguing to see if it worked, had Darkseid not found out through Cyborg’s cybernetics.” Damian pointed out, looking mildly indifferent,

Nodding, Dick eyed his adoptive younger brother for a long moment, “And what about you, Damian?”

Damian looked up, his arms folded over his chest and a scowl on his face. For a moment, he did nothing more than stare at Dick before his features softened ever so slightly and he frowned, “It isn’t something that I ever wish to see again.”

Knowing that was all Damian was willing to give them, at least for tonight, Dick exhaled and nodded once, signalling that he didn’t expect more.

He glanced towards his girlfriend whose concern was almost tangible, just from the way her face was contorted. She chewed on her lip for a long time before she sighed and her shoulders fell,

“We will revisit this tomorrow. I do not want anyone to feel like this was something small. If anything, I wish the league had given us more of a warning of what we were going into.” Kory commenting, briefly locking her gaze with Dick’s who looked equally as unhappy that they had been left out of the loop,

“Yeah, I think I’ll be giving Bruce a call tomorrow.” He paused and addressed the younger Titans once more, “And… Kory and I will be arranging some therapy sessions with a league member to deal with the things you saw.”

“I don’t think we need-”

Dick cut Damian off with a raised hand, “We’re not going to force you guys into them but they will be made available to you all, should you need to talk to someone.”

Damian pressed his lips into a thin line and gave Dick one sharp nod.

“Do you guys mind if we… go to bed now? I kinda just wanna sleep it off…” Gar muttered, tapping his fingertips together,

Kory smiled and nodded, “Of course, Gar. Dick and I are going to make sure the Tower is all locked up before we go home but we will be back in the morning…” She paused and let her eyes wander across them, “And I believe morning training can be cancelled tomorrow.”

Gar suddenly perked up at that news, “Yes! I get to sleep in!”

She giggled whilst Dick smirked and rolled his eyes, “But… remember, if one of you needs us… just call us. Okay?”

They all nodded their heads in confirmation before they began trudging off towards their rooms, muttering their farewells and goodnights before they left.

Once the main room had practically emptied of Titans, only Damian remained and as he passed by the couple, he stopped and looked up at his brother,

“Apologies for… using the Lazarus Pit on you, Grayson.” He stated, something in his face telling Dick that he had hoped for a better outcome of his decision made within the simulation.

His older brother gave him a brief smile and gripped one of his shoulders with his hand, “It’s alright, Damian. Let’s just hope it never has to come to it where you have to make that kind of choice for real.”

Damian considered that and wished them goodnight before he left for his room as well.

Dick watched him go but his attention was drawn back to the woman standing beside him as she sighed heavily and closed her eyes.

“How’re you feeling, Kor?” He checked, lacing his fingers with hers,

She turned and smiled at him, exhaustion slipping into the creases of her face, “Tired… and wanting to go to bed.”

He matched her smile and lifted her hand to his mouth, dropping a kiss to the back of it, “Don’t have to tell me twice. Let’s go home.”

_______________

Dick took a deep breath as he observed himself in the bathroom mirror, his hair still damp and water dribbling down his face after hopping out of the shower. He was trying his best to remain unaffected by the scenes that had plagued him in the simulation earlier that day but it was proving to be a challenge to just push all of it to the back of his mind.

He couldn’t pinpoint what was the worst part; knowing the world had gone up in flames, knowing his friends and family had mostly perished or been altered into husks of their true selves at the hands of Darkseid or knowing that he had potentially faced a lifetime of insanity due to a botched resurrection, unable to remember himself or those he loved.

It may not have been real but it was difficult, trying to remind himself of that. It was hard to accept that truth when it had felt so very real. Images continued to flash in his mind; memories of what had occurred in that world they had had to endure.

He gritted his teeth and tried to quell the anger bubbling in his chest at the comprehension that Bruce, as well as Diana and Clark, hadn’t felt it necessary to even run their little project by him or Kory first; instead throwing them in blind, along with the younger members of the team.

The rational part of his mind told him it was so they would become immersed within the situation handed to them so that they could act upon instinct whereas knowing ahead, would have compromised how they acted within the simulation.

Still, it was something he would be bringing up to Bruce in the morning.

Taking another deep inhale through his nose, Dick focused on his reflection again, repeating words over and over in his head as a reminder that it wasn’t real. It felt real, but it wasn’t and he had to hold onto that, whatever it took.

He shook his head and reached for the hairdryer, flicking the switch and allowing the hot air from it to fill the bathroom.

As he wandered down the hallway, from the bedroom he shared with Kory, he couldn’t help but wonder where she had disappeared to. Their apartment was only so big, meaning if she wasn’t in their room already then she had to be out in the main room.

“Kory?” He called as he stepped over the threshold between the corridor and the main living area.

Dick reached over and flicked one of the light switches, allowing the glow of the bulbs to illuminate the room; a much more welcomed atmosphere than being swallowed up by the night time darkness.

He blinked in surprise to see her standing by the far wall where the floor to ceiling window overlooked the bustling street below the building. It was still painted with bright lights and the buzz of people hanging out with friends, despite it being well past midnight.

She turned to him, as if not having heard him the first time around.

“Babe, what’re you doing all in the dark?” Dick asked, walking around the side of the couch, towards her.

Kory shook her head, as if lost in a world of her own but he knew her better than that. He knew what was haunting her mind since it was the only thing that could be the culprit.

“Hey… c’mere…” He murmured, offering her a hand to take.

She stepped closer and accepted, tangling her fingers with his until Dick gently pulled her down onto the sofa with him. He tugged her closer, using his free arm to wrap around her shoulders.

“I am sorry… I just…” She whispered, her usually bouncy personality seemingly absent for the time being,

“It’s okay… it scared me too.” He admitted,

Finally, she lifted her chin, her solid green gaze fixed on his cerulean orbs. She gave into a trembling breath before she spoke, “I have seen many merciless things, Dick. Growing up on a hostile planet such as my own, it was not uncommon to see bloodshed but… this… it was different.”

He nodded as he listened to her, gently stroking her upper arm as she talked.

“Having to watch those I love being slaughtered… to then die myself and be brought back as a… mindless slave to such a dictator…” She shook her head minutely, unsure what to make of it,

“I know it was only a simulation to test out the league’s contingency plan for if Darkseid does become a more imminent threat but… it feels as real as anything we’ve faced before.” Dick told her,

She felt tears prick her eyes for a brief moment as she thought back on the end of their virtual reality and she snuggled closer to him, feeling the rapid beating of his heart beneath her slender fingers.

“The worst part was that I no longer had you.” She confessed quietly.

He inclined his head to look at her and furrowed his brows, “You… sorta still had me.”

She pulled a face at him and glanced down to where her hand rested on his chest, “But I didn’t. It wasn’t you, anymore. Living on as… what that thing turned me into and having a shell of who you are… it is not a life I would ever wish upon myself. It would have been a fate worse than death.”

Dick swallowed the lump in his throat and pressed his cheek to hers, trying to remind her that he was here with her and they were together.

“Apparently not even being insane can take me away from you.” He mentioned, attempting to inject some kind of humor into the situation, if just to uplift the mood in some way.

She blinked at him before she laughed, just a small sound under her breath but he was happy with it nonetheless.

“You know… I wouldn’t want it either, Kory.” He paused, “In the training… after the pit… I was watching myself and living it… I couldn’t remember anything. I didn’t recognize any of my friends or family… and I don’t ever want that to happen. I never want to be brought back.”

Kory opened her mouth, as if going to question it but he cut her off,

“Ever. Even if… I die before you and you’re stricken with uncontrollable grief… please don’t ever let it happen.”

She gazed at him for a long time but soon nodded her head, vowing not to bring him back, no matter what.

After a long stretch of comfortable silence, Dick sighed and kissed her temple, murmuring, “I have a feeling sleep isn’t coming easily to either of us tonight… why don’t we watch a movie and I’ll make some popcorn?”

Kory smiled softly and nodded, brushing her fingers across his cheek, “That sounds like a good idea.”

“Glad you approve.” He grinned, gently using his free hand to cup her jaw and lead her into a kiss.

It started as something slow and easy, acting as a reaffirmation of being safe and sound with one another. But, Kory tilted her head, pressing her lips to his more firmly, enjoying the warmth that sparked wherever they met.

Dick slid his hand along her jawline, his fingers becoming knotted in her gorgeous red tresses. He ran his tongue along her lower lip, nipping and suckling the skin there.

Kory made a muffled sound and lifted both hands to place against either side of her love’s face.

When she pulled away, she smiled gently and brushed her nose against his until he rested his forehead against hers.

“I know we’ve had a hell of a day… with the training and everything but… it wasn’t real. I’m still here and so are you. We’ve got each other and I don’t plan on giving you up anytime soon, Kory.” Dick whispered, stroking his thumb against her skin.

“I know… I love you.” She breathed, nuzzling his cheek with her own,

“Love you too, babe.” He flashed her one of his boyish grins and tilted his head, “Gotta make every day count together.”

Kory nodded and smiled back at him, “Together.”

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