warning: contains pornographic links to Invincible. not recommended for minors. links taken from X (formerly Twitter). reader with vagina
Mark Grayson
• He likes it when you're in charge.
• He pants heavily when you proboca him.
• Mark is impressed when you do that to his penis.
Mark Sinister
• He loves you silently and using accessories.
• Love will strengthen you.
• He would definitely do it.
Omni-Mark
• He likes to fuck you while you watch him.
• Suck her pussy like a champion.
• Sometimes, he lets you take charge.
Viltrumite Mark
• Want to fill your pussy with cum
• He does NOT like to use condoms.
• He wants to drive you crazy with his dick
Mohawk Mark
• He's definitely going to use his own fingers to widen her vagina and anus.
• You just have to accept it silently.
• Did I mention that he loves playing with his anus?
Masked Mark
• He likes to feel you with his fingers
• You can use it, he likes it.
• He loves to worship you.
Atomic Eve
• ✂️
• Maybe she likes sucking pussy too much.
• Play with her pussy too s2
Author's note: Hi everyone! How are you all doing? I hope you're well. Well folks, I'm in heat, my libido is through the roof, and I decided to bring you this slightly different chapter. I hope you enjoyed it.Do you want other characters? Let me know here and I'll take care of it 💓 See you next time!
When a night out with the girls gets cut short, you head home early only to find your landlady, Eve Fletcher, taking full advantage of an empty house. She wasn’t expecting you back, and you certainly weren’t expecting to find her like that. 🫦🖤
I wasn’t supposed to be home this early.
I’d planned a night out with the girls, but when Faye bailed halfway through her second G&T and Becca’s situationship summoned her with a “what you doing later?”, the evening fizzled out fast. So, I grabbed some Thai takeout, caught the next train, and headed home with the idea of curling up with Netflix and sneaking the last of the wine from the fridge before Eve noticed.
That’s Eve Fletcher, my Landlady.
I saw her spare room advertised in the back pages of the local paper about five months ago. It was the kind of listing no one really reads anymore. It didn’t even have photos, just a short description: “Room to let. Quiet house, decent rent. Shared kitchen/living. Must like dogs.”
There’s no dog, by the way. There never was. I asked during the viewing and she just shrugged and said, “I always wanted one.”
She opened the door to me in jeans and a blue oversized shirt, reading glasses perched low on her nose, hair clipped up with a pen stuck through it. I don’t think she expected me to show up and truth be told I didn’t expect myself to stay… And yet… here we are.
I don’t think Eve needs the money. The house is hers outright, and it’s in a nice enough part of town that she could’ve been picky. I think she just doesn’t want to be alone. Brandon, her son, left for college in the fall. From what she’s said, it’s just been the two of them since her divorce.
I’m only seven years older than Brandon - Let’s not unpack that too much. Because the truth is, I’ve had a bit of a thing for Eve since the moment she offered me a cup of tea and asked if I had any allergies. It’s not just that she’s gorgeous…although god, she is. It’s the softness under her sarcasm, the way she takes care of the house like it matters, the way she laughs when she doesn’t think anyone’s listening.
She ticks a box I didn’t know I had. No… that’s a lie. I know exactly what kind of box it is.
Mommy issues?
Sure… Call it what you want.
Eve Fletcher is smart, sexy, older, nurturing but just detached enough that it drives me insane. I’ve been living with her, sharing wine, cooking side by side, leaving little Post-its on the fridge for months. That’s months of trying not to stare at how soft her mouth looks when she’s had one glass to many of white wine, the type she always adds ice cubes to. Trying not to imagine what it would be like if she looked at me like she wanted something more than just a tenant.
***
The house is quiet when I push the front door open. There isn’t the usual low hum of 90s indie music; the kind Eve always plays when she’s reading or tapping away at her writing. There’s no clatter of dishes that she insists she doesn’t mind doing. Just… stillness.
I slip out of my boots, balancing the bag of food in one hand, and ease the door shut behind myself. It’s not until I step into the living room without really thinking, that I see her.
Eve - she’s sat on the sofa and Jesus fucking Christ, she’s touching herself.
My whole body freezes.
I should go. I know I should go. I should slam myself against the wall, scramble up the stairs, pretend I dropped my keys, anything so long as it looks like I haven’t seen her doing that…
But I don’t move, because god I can’t. Instead molten heat coils low in my stomach. My breath catches between my ribs, my cheeks burn and my thighs clench; need blooming where I shouldn’t be feeling it. Because I’d be lying if I said I’d never thought about Eve in this way… her hands, her mouth... her touching me.
But this… this is not a thought.
Eve’s blue eyes are half-lidded, mouth parted, and her gaze is locked on the screen of her laptop that is propped open on the coffee table in front of her. The light from it flickers softly across her skin, casting her in that unmistakable electric blue glow…. The noises coming from the small speakers are unmistakable - Porn.
I manage to drag my eyes from her to the small screen, and I swallow hard because fuck me, it’s MILF porn, one older, one younger woman - both brunette… I stand watching as the younger girl slides down the other woman’s body and eats her like she’s starving.
I can tell from how Eve’s touching herself this isn’t some idle curiosity - this is her thing. Her fingers move slow but deliberate over her clit like she’s following a rhythm she knows by heart. Her chest rises and falls as quiet little gasps escape her lips and she shifts on the cushions, legs spreading wider, eyes fluttering shut as if she’s alone in the house and hasn’t just completely wrecked me without even knowing it… because she doesn’t know I’m in the doorway.
My thighs press harder together without thinking. I’m still holding the takeout bag. It feels absurd now, stupid and heavy and in the way. My grip tightens until the paper crinkles. Eve stirs, her hips hitching breath catching and for a second I think she’s going to come right there in front of me…
I can’t stop watching her… it’s so fucking wrong but it’s like I’m hypnotised… I want to crawl over to her and whisper, “Don’t stop.” But Instead I just stand there, my heart in my throat…my eyes fucking glued to her.
That’s when she opens hers…And sees me.
She looks at me startled, but not panicked. For a split second she doesn’t move, her fingers still pressed right where they were, glistening and frozen in place.
After what feels like forever, she blinks and pulls her hand back as if it’s burnt her. Her thighs begin to close, quick and defensive. She reaches instinctively for the laptop, that blue glow still flickering across her skin… and I panic.
“I… I’m sorry,” I stammer, voice too loud in the silence. “I didn’t mean… I just got back early and I didn’t think… I should’ve…”
I begin to turn, feet fumbling backward toward the hallway.
“Wait,” she says.
Her voice is low, but it’s not stern, or cold - it’s something else entirely; Like she’s unsure what to do with what’s just happened but isn’t ready to pretend it didn’t.
I stop. My chest rises and falls like I’ve just run a marathon, the bag of takeout crumpling in my fist. I don’t turn right away. I can’t.
“Look at me,” she says, softer now. “Please”.
So, I do.
She’s sitting upright now, legs drawn together, shirt tugged back down over her stomach. Her breathing is shallow, and her cheeks flushed as the laptop remains open on the table, the screen paused.
It’s not lost on me that she hasn’t shut it completely.
“I didn’t mean to… interrupt,” I manage, my voice smaller now. “I thought you were out. I swear I wasn’t…”
“Going to watch?” she finishes.
My lips part, but nothing comes out.
Eve tilts her head slightly. There’s a flicker in her expression… amusement? Heat? Something else that’s not just embarrassment.
“You didn’t have to leave,” she says.
That hits me like a punch to the chest. “What?”
“You don’t have to leave,” she repeats, calmer now. “Unless you want to.”
I blink, and when I don’t move, she shifts slightly, watching me.
“I’ve seen the way you look at me,” she says, voice soft but sure. “Around the house. When you think I’m not paying attention.”
Shit - My throat goes bone dry. Every time I thought I’d been subtle: every glance, every time I lingered in the doorway while she stretched or bent over to reach something from the under sink cupboard… she’d seen me.
“I don’t…” I start, then stop. “It’s not like…”
“It’s okay,” she says gently, cutting me off. “That’s why I let you have the room, you know.”
I stare at her.
“The room?”
Eve smiles faintly, a curl at the corner of her mouth that’s so Eve it makes my knees go weak.
“When you came for the viewing,” she says, “you sat across from me with this nervous energy and that cute grey jumper, and I thought… god help me, I want to see what you look like when you let go.”
My breath stutters.
“I liked you,” she continues. “Right from the start. Probably more than I should have. But I figured I could behave. That it would just be friendly. Simple.”
She pauses.
“Then you walked in tonight and well…”
I try to form a response, anything, but my brain’s short-circuiting. I’m standing in Eve’s living room, takeout bag crushed in one hand, my underwear damp with want, while she looks at me like she knows everything.
“I didn’t know…” I start. My voice is unsteady. “I didn’t think you were into…”
“Women?” she offers, tilting her head slightly. “Why? Because I was married to a man?”
I nod, dumbly. Brandon’s dad; Family photos hung in frames in the hallway. A life that feels very different from what’s happening right now.
“I used to think I wasn’t,” Eve says. Her tone is matter-of-fact, but her blue eyes never leave mine. “But lately… I’ve realised my tastes aren’t quite as black and white as I once thought.”
God, that does something to me. I feel my feet start to move before I even make a conscious decision. Just a small step… then another. The bag of Thai gets dropped on the sideboard near the door without me really noticing. But fuck, I’m aware of everything else: the rush in my ears, the press of my heart against my ribs, the way her gaze follows me as I cross the room.
What the fuck am I doing?
I like living here, the rent’s cheap, Eve’s really good company. I don’t want to mess that up. But the way she’s looking at me… I sit down on the sofa, not quite touching, but close enough to feel the heat from her bare thigh. The air between us is heavy but electric. I don’t dare look at her directly, afraid one glance will make me lose the last thread of self-control I’ve got.
Then I hear the click as Eve presses play.
The laptop screen flickers back to life. The sound picks up exactly where it left off… the older brunette’s voice low and breathless, gasping as the younger one’s head moves between her thighs like she belongs there.
I can feel my own wetness blooming again, warm and undeniable. My thighs press together instinctively, like it’ll stop anything from spilling over.
I stare straight ahead, but I feel Eve shift beside me. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her deliberately part her legs. Her fingers trail down between them, finding her clit again like it’s second nature; and even though the porn plays on in front of us, Eve’s eyes aren’t on the screen anymore - They’re on me. Watching me, as she touches herself, and god help me… I can’t look away.
Her fingers are careful and slow at first, but her breathing’s already gone uneven again, her hips twitching with every pass. I can hear everything… the wet slide of her fingers spreading her slick over her folds. I can’t stop watching her hand move when I hear her voice break through.
“You can touch yourself too, if you want.”
My head snaps up to look at her face.
My lips part on a stammer, on a what are we doing trying to crawl out of my throat.
Eve’s not teasing, she’s not joking around. She says it like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like this is something we do now.
I nod. Just once. Then I glance down at myself. I’m wearing a dress, nothing fancy, but it’s short and a little clingy… it’s easy to lift the hem. I pull the fabric, which is when I realise just how much of an effect this is having on me. The wet spot on my light blue knickers - it’s very obvious and not something I can pretend isn’t there… of course Eve sees it.
Her hand pauses. “God,” she murmurs, low and rough. “You’re already wet.”
I flush hot, everywhere: cheeks, chest, neck, the tips of my ears. But it’s not embarrassment, it’s something much darker, that only aches more as I let my fingers move over the top of the damp fabric… just applying enough pressure to feel it, to crave the friction. But then…
“Let me see,” she says.
I blink. “What?”
“Not over your panties,” Eve says, her voice calm but thick with heat. “I want to see you.”
The porn’s still playing; I can hear it behind us, a low rhythm of gasps and moans and bodies moving, but it might as well be the noise of a plane passing overhead… neither of us is paying attention - because this isn’t about what’s on the screen anymore.
I hesitate for a second my heart thudding, before I hook my thumbs under the waistband of my underwear and start to slide them down. They fall to the floor in a soft bundle, and I shift back on the sofa, angling myself more towards Eve. My dress is bunched up around my waist as I part my thighs, letting her see what she asked for. The air hits my damp skin, and even though I feel so exposed right now, I’ve also never been this turned on.
Eve watches me, her blue eyes darkening, her jaw tense, but her voice stays low and steady.
“We can stop at any point,” she says.
But I already know I won’t.
I shake my head, barely a breath behind it. “I don’t want to.”
That’s when I move my fingers down, slowly gathering the wetness at my entrance, dragging it up to my clit in one lazy swirl that makes my whole body twitch. I start rubbing. Soft. Then firmer. Just the way I know I like it.
Across from me, Eve shifts. She makes a husky sound low in her throat, a similar sound slipping out of me too, like my body is tuned to hers.
“God…” she murmurs, eyes glued to the way my fingers move. “Look at you.”
I let out a breathy laugh, because I feel fucked out already and I’ve barely started.
“Look at you,” I reply.
Eve’s legs are parted enough that I can see the smooth, glistening curve of her folds, wet and that perfect shade of pink that makes my mouth go dry. Her fingers are moving, pulling herself open just a little. God, I wasn’t prepared for how beautiful she is, or how hungry it makes me.
And above… Fuck. I wasn’t expecting the patch of thick dark curls that are so unapologetically her. It feels intimate in a way that makes my chest ache, that I’m seeing her stripped down to something real, where there’s no performance or no need to hide from each other.
I imagine what it would be like to stroke through that softness, to bury my fingers in the thatch, to let my nose drag through it as I make my way down her body.
Eve inhales sharply, like she can feel where my mind’s gone. Her fingers stop as her eyes flick up to mine searching my face. I want to touch her. I want her to touch me. My whole body aches with it; with the throbbing pulse in my clit, from the way her eyes are devouring every inch of me.
It’s like she reads me, because suddenly she moves decisively. Her hand reaches out and closes the laptop with a soft click, plunging the room into a silence that somehow feels louder. Her body shifts toward me, the space between us vanishing. That’s when her other hands slides between my thighs, over mine, her fingers cooler than I expected. I gasp, hips jerking slightly, but I don’t stop her. Fuck - I Can’t.
Her lips are so close now I can feel her breath on my cheek.
“Can I?” she asks, her fingers curled lightly around my wrist, ready to pull me away from myself.
My heart stutters, the word tumbles from between my lips as I nod. “Yeah.”
That’s all she needs to hear, Eve gently lifts my hand away setting it on my thigh like she’s reminding me who’s in control. Her touch replaces it instantly; exploring as she slides through me with an ease that makes my breath hitch. She traces me like she’s learning me by touch alone; parting me, pressing just enough to make me ache, dipping teasingly at my entrance before pulling back again. I feel every inch of her attention, every deliberate choice to not touch my clit.
It’s fucking maddening.
My hips roll toward her without permission, trying to chase some friction, but that only makes her hum softly.
“I didn’t think you’d be this needy,” she murmurs.
I let out a broken sound, a mix between a whine and a plea before her mouth finally meets mine.
The kiss is nothing like I imagined it might be. It’s not hesitant. It’s not careful, god it’s hungry. Her lips claim mine and the kiss quickly deepens, her tongue sliding against mine, teeth grazing my lower lip just enough to make me gasp into her mouth; All the time her hand never stops moving.
By the time the kiss breaks, I’m shaking, the ache strong between my thighs as every nerve ending screams… and then, finally, she brushes my clit with just a swift skim of her fingers.
My eyes squeeze shut as a helpless whimper slips out of me before I can stop it.
“Hey,” Eve says gently, but there’s a warning threaded through it. “Open your eyes.”
I do.
She’s watching me closely now, really watching, her fingers still moving lazily, her expression darkened with intent.
“I like seeing what I’m doing to you,” she says quietly. “Don’t hide from it.”
Her thumb circles me again… it’s still not enough, still cruelly light. I bite my lip hard, trying not to beg, trying not to unravel completely... Thats when she moves lower. Her fingers dip back to my entrance, slick with how wet I am for her.
She hesitates for the merest second. “Is this okay?” she asks, voice low, but no longer completely steady. “Tell me if it’s too much.”
God - My chest tightens. Not with nerves with need, because even now, even with the heat between us Eve’s checking in and that small flash of uncertainty on her part does things to me.
“No,” I breathe. “It’s not too much. I want it.”
Without hesitation, she slides a finger inside me and my back arches with the stretch. My hands fly to the cushions behind me, gripping the fabric as my body pulses around her. She starts to move, a slow, careful rhythm that builds everything. Her thumb brushes over my clit, finally - it’s firmer this time, and I let out a sound I can’t contain.
Eve shifts closer, watching me like I’m the only thing that exists. She adds a second finger, I gasp, hips jerking toward her hand.
“Mmm shit…” I pant.
She stills. Not all the way, her thumb keeps its soft rhythm but she leans in, just enough to murmur near my mouth.
“Too much?”
“No,” I choke out. “Please don’t stop.”
She doesn’t.
She fucks me slow and deep, her fingers working me open, her palm pressed tight to my body. The heel of her hand grinds against my clit with every stroke, and the sounds I make now are desperate… a mix of moans and the wetness squelching between my thighs.
“God, you’re so tight,” she murmurs, more to herself than to me. “And you’re… fuck, you’re already close, aren’t you?”
I nod frantically. “I, I can’t… it’s…”
It’s happening too fast. I didn’t expect it to feel this good, this fucking perfect. My whole body is burning… And then she curls her fingers.
And I break.
It hits hard, harder than I’m ready for. My orgasm tears through me like a wave that is hot and unstoppable. My thighs clamp down around her wrist, my head falling back, and her name spilling from my lips like it’s the only word I know.
“Eve…oh fuck, FUCK…”
My hips jerk, every nerve lit up, and I don’t even care how loud I am. I ride it out on her hand, my body shaking, as my breaths gone.
Eve holds me there. Gently stroking me as she draws out every last aftershock, until I collapse back against the sofa completely undone.
Her hand eases out from between my legs and I blink up at her, dazed.
She’s wrecked… her lips are parted and she’s breathing hard, and fuck her fingers are covered in my wetness. I watch her wipe them along her own bare thigh, before she meets my gaze.
“Was that…” she starts, then trails off, almost shy.
I don’t answer right away, Instead, I shift, closing the space between us, as I lean in my mouth finds hers in a slow, unhurried kiss. Her lips are still parted from her question, so I easily take advantage of the moment. It’s tender and reverent, nothing like the wild, gasping kiss from earlier. This one says yes, that happened. Yes, I wanted it.
When I pull away, I rest my forehead lightly against hers.
“Does that answer your question?”
Eve huffs out the quietest laugh, more breath than sound and I smile. I tilt my head toward the closed laptop still sitting on the coffee table.
“So…” I murmur, eyes flicking to hers. “MILF porn, huh?”
She flushes but her confidence starts to flicker back.
“What can I say,” she says, arching a brow, her voice just a little rough. “I know what I like.”
God, she has no idea what that does to me.
My hand slides across the sofa, over her knee, warm skin under my fingertips. I move higher, until my palm rests against the inside of her thigh. That’s when she parts her legs for me without even thinking.
“Do you want me to do what was happening in the movie?”
Her breath catches.
I don’t wait for words. I move down the sofa slowly but deliberate, before I lean in to kiss the inside of her thigh. Her skin is warm against my mouth, and when I press another kiss, just a little higher, I feel her legs shift, opening even further, inviting me in.
“Do you want me to do this?” I whisper, lips brushing against her skin, voice thick.
She nods, almost too quickly, her fingers gripping the edge of the sofa cushion.
I move higher… just a fraction… and fuck. I can smell her. That musky, heady scent of her arousal hits me like a drug, and my mouth waters.
I look up at her, I know my own pupils must be blow… “Do you want me to eat you out like the girl in the film?”
The moment the words leave my mouth, Eve lets out a noise I don’t think she meant to make; a breathy, wrecked sound that lands somewhere between a gasp and a moan. Her hips jerk, her thighs part even wider, and her hand flies to my hair like she’s afraid I might disappear if she doesn’t hold me there.
I’m not going anywhere, instead I move, lowering my head as my breath fans over her skin, and when my lips finally find her pussy that is so fucking wet… I let out a moan of my own.
Because fuck, she tastes good.
I drag my tongue flat from the bottom of her entrance all the way up savouring her, as I feel her whole body stutter beneath me.
Her reaction only spurs me on so I do it again, and then again. Each time firmer licking her like I mean it, like I’ve been dreaming about this, like her taste is the only thing I want in my mouth for the rest of my fucking life.
Her hips roll toward me, searching for more friction… More anything. When I circle her clit with the tip of my tongue, she cries out, sharp and unfiltered and her fingers tighten in my hair, anchoring me there.
“Fuck… she breathes. “God, your mouth…”
I wrap my arms around her thighs, holding her in place, and suck her clit into my mouth, gently at first, then with more pressure, more hunger, my tongue flicking against it until she’s writhing beneath me.
“Jesus Christ,” she pants. “Don’t stop…don’t….”
I wouldn’t dream of it… I love the way she moves against my face, the way her wetness coats my lips, the way her breath keeps catching like she’s right there already. When I slide my tongue down pushing into her, fucking her with it, slow and deep… she actually shakes.
Her legs tremble. Her hands fist in my hair even tighter, causing my scalp to sting but I don’t want her to stop. I move back up and suck her clit again, harder this time, and the sound she makes is fucking filthy.
“I’m gonna… fuck, I’m gonna come” she gasps.
And that’s when I really give it to her.
I pin her hips down, press my mouth flat to her, and devour her… my tongue circling, lips sucking, wet and relentless and absolutely fucking hers. She breaks with a cry that’s nothing like the porn.
It’s real, raw, it’s Eve.
Her thighs clamp around my head, her back arches, and her body jerks against my mouth as she comes.
“Oh my god, fuck…baby…”
I don’t stop… Not until she’s shaking, spent, fingers loosening in my hair as she gasps for air like she just ran ten miles. When I finally pull back, my mouth and chin is soaked with her, and I swear I’ve never felt so wrecked and so proud at the same time.
Eve’s sprawled across the sofa, one arm flung over her face, chest still rising and falling like she’s been winded… that what just happened knocked the breath out of her in the best fucking way. Her legs are still parted, the shirt she’s wearing rucked up around her waist, as the rooms thick with the scent of sex and sweat and something new…. Something that’s ours now.
I sit back on my heels and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, smirking as she groans softly, pulling her arm away to look at me.
“Holy shit,” she breathes.
I raise an eyebrow, voice smug and low. “So… I take it that was okay?”
She lets out a breathless laugh, full of disbelief.
“I think I saw god.”
I grin. “Well, she was definitely between your thighs.”
Eve groans again, this time hiding her face with both hands. “You can’t say things like that.”
“Why not?” I tease, crawling up beside her, curling into her side. “Too soon?”
Her hand drops to my thigh, squeezing it lightly. Her blue eyes are softer now, but there’s still heat behind them; a flicker of something that says she’s not done with me… Not even close.
For a few long, quiet seconds, we just breathe. The laptop sits closed and forgotten. The only sound is the low hum of the houses heating system, and the wild beat of my heart finally calming down.
But everything’s changed - After tonight, Eve’s not just my landlady anymore. She’s not just the woman in the kitchen who drinks her coffee too strong and wears that stupid pink dressing gown that drives me insane.
But whatever this is… whatever we just started, it’s not going away. I don’t want it too.
“You realise this complicates things,” Eve says eventually, voice dry but not cold.
I tilt my head toward her, my eyes narrowed but playfully. “Is that your subtle way of kicking me out?”
She snorts. “God, no.”
I grin. “So I can stay?”
Her fingers drag slowly over the inside of my thigh in a far from innocent way.
“You definitely stay,” she says.
A silence settles between us again, but it’s comfortable. It’s the kind of charged calm that comes after something that changes everything.
She’s looking at me… Its that same smouldering look from earlier, but lazier now. Like she knows exactly what she wants to do to me next…and how long she’s going to take doing it.
“Come to bed?” she asks quietly.
It’s not a question, not really. I rise without a word, taking her hand in mine. As we walk down the hall, I can feel where her fingers have been, what they did to me. As we start to climb the stairs, Eve takes the lead, her shirt barely covering the cheeks of her ass, but it doesn’t matter because both of us are smiling like we’re getting away with something… like we know exactly how the rest of this night goes.
Round two is waiting - and this time, I plan on seeing how far I can push Mrs Fletcher.
OK SO CAN SOMEONE HELP ME FIND THIS FIC ITS A EMPEROR MARK X READER AND NOT THE VARIANT LIKE I MEAN GROWN UP EMPEROR MARK I rmb The reader was an alien like the viltrumites and I think mark made an alliance with her planet so that's why she's there. And He is no longer with eve and he had Marky with him And Eve is on Earth with Terra. And there's a part where he goes to visit eve and terra with reader It's not a oneshot it has smut. There's a part where him eve and reader has a threesome for those who probably only remember the smut parts. BUT YEA I THINK IT'S ON AO3 TOO BUT HELP ME FIND THIS PLEASE IT WAS SO GOOD. And if you still don't get which mark this one.
hmmm okay. for ur consideration… fem!reader x atom eve. maybe reader making a move during those 5 years where mark travelled back in time when nobody thought he was gonna come back? or maybe something set in season 2 when eve is trying to get over mark? anything works, i’ve just been considering the concept for a while.
Atomic Heart
Note: I would've done season two, but there's not enough drama for me, so we went with the former. Also, if this story seems familiar, it's because it is. It's been repackaged and repurposed bc we can't have nice things.
Warnings: Smut, Pussy Eating, Fingering, Tribbing, Improper Use of Powers, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Power Play & Restraints (Consentual), Mentions of Invincible, Mutual Pining & Emotional Angst, Alien Technology, Porn w a Plot, etc.
Synopsis: With Mark gone for five years, and Eve's lips ghosting promises against your skin, you realize... it was time to take his place.
Atom Eve/Samantha Eve Wilkins x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2,555 (I LOVE HER)
Mark left.
At first, it was just a mission. Then, it became a choice. And after five long years, it felt like a ghost story—whispers of a man who had once been here, who had once held her, who had once promised he would always return.
But he didn’t.
And you had to watch Eve bear the weight of that absence alone. She had been so hopeful at first. So certain that he would come back before she even began to show. But the weeks stretched into months, and soon, that hope had nowhere left to go—so it settled in her hands, in her breath, in the quiet way she held herself together.
And then, there was the baby.
You never meant to love her. Or maybe you did. Maybe it was impossible not to. Maybe it started the first time Eve took your hand and pressed it against her belly, laughing softly as the child stirred beneath your palm. Maybe it was in the way she’d look at you when she was too exhausted to stand, silently trusting you to be the one to hold her steady. Maybe it was in every midnight conversation, every fleeting moment where she let herself lean against you, warmth sinking into warmth, two people filling the spaces Mark left behind.
Maybe love had never been a decision at all. Maybe it had always been inevitable.
When Mark finally returned, standing there with his wide, hopeful eyes, expecting to pick up where he left off— Eve didn’t run to him. She just sat there, arms folded over her chest, a fortress of quiet resentment and exhaustion. And when she finally spoke, her voice wasn’t angry. It was just tired. “I thought you were dead. Welcome home, Mark. I’m glad you’re alive, but… I don’t want to see you again. We’re through.” And when Mark flinched—when he realized, too late, what he had done— you gazed with pity from afar as tears pearled against his waterline. Eve simply watched, having already grieved their lost love.
You weren’t sure if it was anger or protectiveness that burned in your chest. It didn’t matter because you had already chosen your side.
The first time you met Samantha Eve Wilkins, she was floating midair, casually reconstructing a crumbling building with nothing but a flick of her wrist and a furrow of concentration. The second time? She was gritting through an awkward explanation about why she’d recreated alien bondage tech.
“I—okay, so—hear me out.” Eve held up her hands defensively, hovering over her workbench where the sleek golden cuffs rested. “It’s not like I meant to make them for, you know, that.” Her voice wavered slightly on the last word, and you raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms.
“Uh-huh,” you drawled, pretending to ignore the way her pink energy flickered anxiously around her hands. “So, you accidentally reverse-engineered Flaxan tech that forces two people to move in perfect sync?”
Eve bit her lip, eyes rolling within their sockets. “Well, yeah, technically. I mean, I saw them years ago during the invasion, and I thought, wow, that’s an insanely advanced neural-link system, and then I just… y’know, figured it out.” She was talking fast now, rambling through it like it was basic knowledge. “And then I may have tested them, maybe realized they could be used for, um… more personal applications, and now I can’t turn them off without—”
Your heart skipped. “Without what?” Her pink energy flared, and she let out a tiny, guilty laugh. “…Without you helping me.” You blinked. “Helping you how, exactly?” Eve winced, tapping the metal cuff. “Soooo, funny thing,” she started. “The cuffs are already linked. To me.” There was a beat of silence before a strange warmth bloomed over your skin—a slow, pulling sensation in your chest, like gravity had shifted just slightly.
Eve sucked in a breath at the same time you did. “Oh,” she whispered. Your fingers twitched. So did hers. “…Eve.” Your voice came out slower, weighted, as your limbs suddenly moved in tandem with hers—so naturally, so fluidly, that it was unsettling. “What exactly did you do?”
Her pink energy crackled around her fingertips as she attempted to shift back, only for your own body to mimic her perfectly. Her breath hitched when you both stumbled forward at the same time, chest-to-chest now, your movements completely bound to hers.
She groaned. “Okay, fine. Maybe I got a little carried away. But it’s still Mark’s fault because if he hadn’t just abandoned me for half a decade, I wouldn’t have thrown myself into stupid projects like this just to stop thinking about him.”
You felt it then—that flicker of resentment, buried under layers of frustration and exhaustion. Because Mark didn’t just leave her; he left their daughter. And now that he was back? She didn’t know if she could ever forgive him. Your chest tightened. Eve had always been strong, stubborn, and selfless. But this? This wasn’t just about Mark. This was about her. About everything she’d sacrificed, about how much she deserved to be wanted, to be chosen.
You exhaled sharply. Her head tilted, puffy lips stretching into a smile. “...It sounds really bad when you stare like that,” she muttered. You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head. Of course, Atom Eve—the literal genius with the power to reshape reality—would get herself into this mess.
But, as you both shifted in place, feeling every tiny movement in perfect sync, a warmth spread through your chest that had nothing to do with the cuffs. Eve was watching you now, hazel eyes soft, smile growing. “Guess we should figure out how to undo this before we spend the rest of our lives moving in sync.”
You let out a laugh. “Oh? You don’t want to be stuck with me forever?” Eve hesitated. Her gaze flicked to yours—and for the briefest second, she didn’t look like she minded at all. Then, quick as a spark, she cleared her throat, masking her flustered expression behind a teasing smirk. “I mean,” she mused, “if I had to be stuck with someone, at least you’re cute.”
She surges forward, gripping the front of your shirt as her lips crash against yours. It’s desperate, claiming five years of longing condensed into a single moment. She pours all of it into you—the anger, the loneliness, the quiet ache of missing something she never should have had to miss.
You gasp, caught off guard but not unwilling, never unwilling. You part your lips, exhaling softly against her, letting yourself melt into the heat of her body, the strength of her presence. Your hands move instinctively to her waist, gripping her like you’re afraid she might disappear—as if you don’t realize she’s the one who’s been afraid all this time.
Eve tightens her hold on you, lips parting just slightly, just enough to steal another breath from you, another piece of you. “I could hold you like this forever. Don’t tempt me.” She teased, her warmth spreading throughout like a river. “You talk a big game, Wilkins. Let’s see if you can back it up.” You reply, watching her hands move to your clothing, slow and deliberate. A warm pink glow pulses at her fingertips, and before you can react, the fabric dissolves—thread by thread unraveling into nothing. A teasing reminder of her control—of the night's possibilities.
A slow heat spreads through your skin as the devices hum to life, a gentle caress disguised as technology. Eve guides you to the bed, her hands firm but patient as she presses you down. She was gorgeous, hair splayed across her shoulders as she peered through lidded eyes. She leans in, voice barely above a whisper.
“You’re mine tonight. Every breath, every shiver—it’s all for me.” She murmured, her fingertips skimming your skin, tracing slow patterns, savoring every inch of contact. You can feel it in the way she touches you—the ownership, the reverence, the want. “I love it when you act smug.” Your voice is rough with anticipation as you grow restless.
"Mm," she groans, amusement flickering in her eyes. Every little movement, every tiny reaction—there’s no hiding from her, from either of you. A mutual blush creeps up your necks, but Eve only smiles wider, proud and pleased. The space grows suffocating as her lips trail down your neck, her tongue tracing patterns over your collarbone. Impatience gnaws at your bones. Every second stretches unbearably long.
Your hands move abruptly, flipping her onto the mattress as you settle between her thighs.
Squeezing the supple flesh, you feel the heat pooling between her legs, worsening with each passing moment. Lips ghost over her inner thigh, teasing, taunting—deliberately avoiding where she craves you most. A strangled sigh escapes her. Your tongue finally traces over her folds, fingers parting her deftly as you explore her warmth. A fire curls in her stomach, spreading outward, leaving her trembling beneath your touch. An arousal she hadn’t felt in a long time doused her body in a cold chill that hardened the soft peaks against her chest.
The sensation is overwhelming—every touch, every flick, every slow, torturous suck sends waves of pleasure through both of you. You feel a mirroring ache between your own thighs, as if you’re tasting yourself in her pleasure. Slowly, teasingly, your tongue drags from bottom to top. She tastes sweet and tangy, like honey and musk, and you can’t get enough. You circle her clit with the tip of your tongue, teasing the sensitive bud before dipping lower, dipping down to thrust into her tight cunt.
Her velvety ridges attempt to squeeze your fingers, each stroke leaving her walls fluttering and sucking you in for more. "You look a little flustered, Eve. Something on your mind?"
Eve moans softly, her fingers tangling in your hair as her hips rock against your face. You smile against her, the vibrations making her shudder. Your tongue moves in concert with your fingers, plunging deep while your lips suckle gently around her clit. A faint groan slips past your lips as she flexes her fingers, your hips to careen into the touch with a faint groan. You feel the way her body responds, her intoxicating juices soaking your chin, her thighs trembling against your ears. Your breath syncs with hers, building, climbing—both of you wound so tightly you can barely stand it. The silk sheets rustle beneath you, the sound mixing with breathy, desperate moans as you both struggle to stay quiet, to keep from waking Eve’s daughter.
"Don't stop," she whimpers, voice breaking, thighs clamping down as she teeters on the edge. "I’m gonna come—fuck, I’m gonna—"
You double your efforts, your tongue moving faster, your fingers curling inside her, stroking that perfect spot. She comes with a sharp gasp, body shuddering, hips bucking into your mouth as she rides out the waves of her orgasm. You don’t let up, lapping at her, drawing out every last aftershock until she’s a boneless, gasping mess beneath you.
"I hate how much I need you right now," she says through ragged breaths. "If I were you, I wouldn’t move. Unless you want me to make you." She continued, her hands already moving to reposition you. As much as you wished to argue, the thought was enticing. She had you beneath her, legs pushed up and spread wide as your knees met your shoulders. And like a sought puzzle, she squatted herself atop you, using your ankles as an anchor before her labia slotted against yours perfectly.
She grinds slowly at first, teasing herself, teasing you—hips rolling in hypnotic, measured strokes, building heat between you until it’s unbearable. It’s mind-numbing. Every brush of her clit against yours sends tingles racing down your spine, your skin burning where she touches. She leans forward, her breasts pressing against your chest, the frantic slip of her skin reddening your areolas from friction.
Her breathing becomes ragged, matching the rhythm of her hips. She looks down at you, her eyes filled with a mix of desire and endearment. The sight of her, flushed and sweaty, her body glistening with effort, is maddening. You can feel her wetness coating you, the slickness making the movements smoother as she glides against you. She changes the angle slightly, her clit grinding away, rolling her hips just so— and your vision whites out. Every sensation—her warmth, her strength, the weight of her body pressed against your—became yours, looping back between you in an endless circuit of sensation. You could feel her stimulation too, the way it crackled through her nerves, feeding into your own until you didn’t know where you ended and she began. You feel her need as if it’s your own, the way she trembles, the way her body begs for more.
Suddenly, a bright pink light fills the room, blinding you momentarily. You blink rapidly, trying to adjust your vision as the light fades, revealing Eve's eyes glowing with the same pink hue. She doesn't pause her movements, her body continuing to rock against yours, but her hands move to her sides, and you hear a soft humming sound. As your vision clears, you see that her hands are crafting something in the air, the pink light coalescing into a solid form. She molds it with her fingers, shaping it into a double-sided dildo. The toy glows with an otherworldly energy, its surface shifting and changing as if it's alive.
“I can feel you trembling. I like it.”
With an eager smirk, she reaches down, her hand still glowing with the pink light. She guides the toy between your legs, and you gasp as it slides inside you. The cool, smooth surface bulbs against your G-spot. She takes it in with a slow, shaky movement, her eyes watching as your limbs stiffen with a choked sob. The sight of her impaled on the same toy that's inside you is incredibly erotic. So much so that you became dizzy. She leaned down, your lips meeting gingerly as she mumbled weakly, her insides twitching as she pistoned her hips downwards.
Eve's movements become more urgent, her breath coming in short gasps. The dildo shifts inside you, the angles and pressures changing with every movement. The phantom touches start slow, featherlight strokes dragging over your skin, but then—then they grip, squeeze, pull. The feel is exhilarating as it traces over your features leaving your hairs standing on edge. You can feel her, through the toy, her muscles clenching and releasing in sync with yours. The room fills with the sound of your combined moans, the wet, slapping noise of your bodies meeting, and the soft hum of the glowing dildo.
The throbbing continues, her clit grinding against yours, the dildo filling you both. The dual stimulation grows too much, and the pleasure becomes almost unbearable. "Touch me. Please.” Her only plea snapped your attention into place. Reaching up, you rolled a nipple between your fingers, the pad of your thumb smoothing over the sensitive peak, watching as her eyes rolled into her skull. You can feel your orgasm building, the tension coiling in your belly, ready to snap. Eve senses it, her eyes screwing shut as she increases the pace, her hips moving faster.
As your orgasm hits, your body convulses, the waves of ecstasy crashing over you. Eve rides it out with you, her own body shaking as she reaches her climax. The dildo seems to pulse with your combined energy, the pink light flashing brightly before fading away. Eve collapses onto you, her body slick with sweat, the toy slowly dissolving in the air. The room is filled with the scent of sex and the sound of your combined breathing, slowly returning to normal.
She exhales, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your shoulder before settling beside you, her forehead resting against yours. There’s something vulnerable in the way she looks at you now, something unguarded like she’s finally allowing herself to want this—to want you. "I didn’t think I could have this again," she admits softly, almost to herself.
You reach for her hand, fingers threading together as you squeeze gently. "You never lost it." Her lips part, as if she wants to argue, but she doesn’t. Not when you look at her like that—not when you’re still here. She sighs instead, curling into your warmth, pressing her body against yours like she’s afraid of letting go.
Beyond the door, the world is still waiting. Responsibilities, regrets, unspoken fears—but not tonight. Tonight, Eve stays in your arms. And for the first time in years, she doesn’t feel alone.
A/N: My girl deserves better in every universe. THIS WAS PROOFREAD SO EXCUSE RANDOM EDITS LMFAO.
Summary: While you're at work, Eve finds time to play around with one of her new fantasies she's been interested in. Interrupted by you, you both come to an agreement of fulfillment.
Word Count: 2.2k
Pairings: Eve Fletcher x Reader
Rating: NSFW/Explicit
Warnings: Swearing, pet names, age gap, descriptions of sexual acts, masturbation, mirror sex, sex toys, vaginal fingering, clitoral stimulation, voyeurism, recording sexual acts/making porn, watching porn, sexual fantasies, groping, good girl!Eve
A/N: Piece for @ownedbyagatha💜
Music Inspo: Hot Topic - Le Tigre, Divine Hammer - The Breeders, Sex & Candy - Marcy Playground, Lachryma - Ghost, Lady - Kenny Rogers, Just Dropped In - Kenny Rogers
Eve loved looking at herself in the mirror when having sex with herself.
She had been wary of mirrors after her son had left for college; a stark reminder of the unwavering passage of time.
It had all changed when she had met you, of course. Time seemed to stand still and there was no more left to fear.
Her age had made her confident and in control. Her age was something that had drawn you into her.
Her mirror used to show an aging, unsure woman. Was she still curious enough? Sexual enough? Could she still try new things that maybe scared her a little bit?
Now, as she lowered herself onto the hastily made nest of pillows and blankets on her bedroom floor, her mirror only reflected back a woman who was aching to be fucked.
You had gone off to work and Eve had the day off. She had woken with such a craving to be disgustingly filled that she could barely control herself around you. You promised to fuck her when you got home; anything she wanted.
You were easy that way. You weren't embarrassed to agree how badly you folded for this older woman who was actually old enough to be your mother.
Whatever Eve wanted, you made sure to give it to her. Over and over again.
But that was hours away and Eve couldn't fight off the gnawing, growing hunger.
She had collected all the toys she wanted to use and dropped them onto the floor beside her blanket spread. God forbid she wanted something and would have to leave her spot to go get it.
The blankets and pillows supplied her comfort and ease as she stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair was messy and wild; curls becoming tangled knots from the bedhead she refused to comb out. Her skin was already flushed with excitement of what was to come. Thoughts of how she was going to fuck herself took up all the space in her mind and left very little, minus the thought of you coming back home to her.
Eve dropped onto her hands and knees in a table top position and continued to stare.
Her arms and legs were still toned; still strong. The muscles in her neck defined as it sloped to her jawline. Her eyes always gave away just how badly she wanted sex. Hooded and blown out; tipping off the bite to her lower lip.
Gaze wandering she catches the way her breasts slightly hang from this position despite still being inside of her bra. The way the sides of her underwear hugged at her hips. Black lace. Classic. Appropriate for her age. Something that drove you utterly feral whenever you stripped her away of her clothes.
She bit until she tasted blood on her tongue.
She swayed her hips ever so slightly and watched as they came in and out of focus in the mirror. The slightest curve of her ass was visible each time she shifted her weight and her imagination soared off into picturing you kneeling behind her with your hands on her waist. Guiding her back. Pulling her deeper to sit on your cock.
Eve moaned at the thought and sunk her hips back until her ass was resting on the heels of her feet. She stayed there for a breath or two before she slowly rose back up into table top position.
She took one final look in the mirror before she grabbed her vibrator and turned herself around on hands and knees until her back was to her mirror.
She moved her head, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she concentrated on what she wanted to do. Holding her toy comfortably in her left hand, she guided it down, underneath her body until the shaft lined up perfectly with her crotch. Eve sucked in a breath before the pad of her thumb pressed down on the worn grooved circle to turn her vibrator on.
Instantly, Eve was hit with the steady beat of vibrations against her underwear. She knew, right then and there, that it wouldn't be enough.
Her thumb presses down again and the vibrations kick up another notch and before she knows it, she's using the head of her silicone vibrator to nudge her lace underwear aside so she could feel the direct contact on her clit.
Eve folds forwards with her ass in the air and her face down into the pillow she's left for herself. Her toy is pressed hard against her throbbing clit as if trying to press the vibrations inside of herself.
She moans at the thought and feels her clit pulsing. Throbbing. Muscles contracting and releasing at the growing vibrations as she yet again changes the speed.
Gasps and high pitched breathing fills her bedroom as she lifts her heavy head ever so slightly to carefully turn to her right. She looks back, past her arm and shoulder and into the mirror behind her.
She can see the way her arm is crooked and the pink silicone dragging painfully slowly between her legs. The unmistakable sheen of her arousal already coating the silicone.
"Oh...fuck...holy fuck..."
She swallows her moans into a loud sigh as she picks up the pace to watch herself fuck herself.
That's how she's always thought of it. Not so much masturbation but having sex with herself.
Watching herself.
Her reflection fucking herself.
"moremoremore...please...god....please..."
Eve makes her mouth as wide as she can and stares at the orifice in the mirror. The dim lighting in her bedroom makes her unable to see her teeth and tongue; a black, never ending hole instead.
Wide and stretched, just like all the stars in the porn videos she's been watching since her son left home.
She slams the toy up and drags it painfully against her clit. It's bordering on the sensation of being numb which, both turns her on and makes her frustrated. She doesn't want the nerves to die out anytime soon.
She's still waiting for you to get home.
Her gaze shifts as she lifts herself up a little more so she can see through the underside of her body now, through her legs. The back of her hand is visible in this angle and the toy is hidden by it.
That's not what she's looking for.
She wants to watch herself get fucked.
Eve moves on her hands and knees once more to face her mirror. Her toy barely moved out of her as she made her adjustments. The look she gives herself in the mirror is one she's given you many times before, right on the brink of her undressing herself or shoving her hand down your pants or up your shirt.
Carefully, she leans back onto her forearms with her knees bent and her feet flat on the blankets below. She can see herself perfectly as well as the dildo barely visible between her legs. The majority of it deep inside her pussy.
She whimpers at her own image looking back at her as she steadies herself; one hand brought up to take hold of the end of her toy to start all over again. As her hand snakes down her chest, between her breasts which she cups before moving on, she stops when her fingers meet her folds.
She stares at herself dead in the eye and uses her pointer and middle finger to spread her wet lips.
The soft, wet wrinkled flesh is almost enough to make Eve orgasm right then and there. She clenches hard around the toy inside of herself and pretends it's you.
It always comes back to you.
She moans high praises of you and how you make her feel; begging you to fuck her as her fingers once again wrap around the silicone to start pumping.
She wants every single inch of you.
Her gaze slowly drags away from herself, silicone blending and bleeding as her head falls back and her hair hangs free. She stares up at her ceiling for a breath or two before she slams her eyes closed and picks up with the same voracity where she had left off. Hard and deep and fast; feeling as if she'd break right through her cervix.
And always, thinking of you.
She's close. Eve moves her head, her neck. She refocuses herself and struggles to open her eyes.
She needs to see herself completely come undone. She needs to see the sweat and cum drip from herself; coat her toy and inner thighs.
She needs to see the way her chest blushes pink and rises up to her neck, her face. The way her hair is completely wild and she wishes then and there that your fingers were tangled through it to pull. Eve needs to look at the way her nipples remain hard little buds; aching to be pinched and sucked and bit.
Her wrist snaps back and forth and back and forth and her breath hitches higher and higher in the back of her throat.
She's falling fast as she slams your cock deep inside of herself; clit throbbing and engorged. Begging to be sucked and rubbed.
"ohmyfuckinggod!"
Her eyes dart to the door as she sees you standing there with a knowing smirk on your face. Her expression is both from seeing you and the wave that rushes through her body; between her legs.
Eve falls back onto her forearms; hand pulling away from the toy. It moves on its own out of her cunt as her muscles have relaxed indefinitely and the wet a perfect conduit for extraction.
She tries to catch her breath as she throws her head back once more and you, in all your surprise, rush towards her to quite literally get on top of her.
"Don't!"
Her words and breath are shaky as she groans; eyes still closed to ride out her orgasm.
You freeze and feel an even stronger desire now to completely devour her.
The way she looks, the way the room is set up with her facing the mirror. The way she smells.
"Eve..."
"I...thought you were at work?"
She's looking up at you now with her lips slightly parted. You watch as her chest heaves; nipples still rock hard. You want so badly to bend over and grab her, throw her back against the blankets and pillows and pick up right here.
But the look in her eyes has a different means of desire behind them.
"I came back home for lunch."
Eve stares at you and all you can see are the wheels turning in her mind. There's something more; something she's trying to recall or figure out. There's something she's trying to plot.
You move away from her; backing up slowly to the arm chair nestled in the corner of the room. You take a seat the minute your legs hit against the fabric.
Eve is staring at you from over her shoulder and you know she's waiting for something. Anything.
She wants to see how you're going to allow her to remain in her fantasy she so desperately needs to fulfill.
"Don't act shy now. You started this."
Your words seem to pierce right through her as she turns her head back to face the mirror. She can see you in it; behind her. She hadn't realized the chair was in perfect view.
"Go on, Eve...keep going..."
She never looks back again at you but keeps her gaze steady through the mirror's reflection.
It's then she notices the tiny white circle of light glowing from your middle.
Your phone. Recording.
You're recording her.
She's shooting daggers at you now as she waits for an explanation but you're not one to give that.
She should know exactly why you've listened to her; made this choice. She should know exactly why you took your phone out to record her fucking herself.
Eve should know more than anyone.
You had woken up before her this morning to get ready for work and she had left her laptop on the edge of the bed. It was half-closed.
You had explained to her before that whatever she left on her screen could bleed through and ruin the graphics. Eve didn't care; didn't really understand. She was just happy to have her son's hand-me-down laptop to use.
You opened it up to exit out of whatever she had left open from the night before and shut it down; plug it in for her so she would have one less thing on her plate.
A video watched half-way, paused.
You un-paused it.
A woman was standing in front of a full length mirror with their face hidden behind their phone they were using to record the video. It quickly swung to the left to capture another woman on a bed. She was on all fours and facing the mirror with her hands between her legs; arm moving in a way that only read as a back and forth motion.
She was fucking herself, to herself, in the mirror while the other person watched and recorded it all.
Eve had watched it before falling asleep last night.
"You're such a good girl, Eve. So fucking good...you should let me see."
Her gaze never broke from yours as she stared you down in the mirror and you watched, with heightened arousal as her face, neck and chest flushed pink. Her shaking left hand dipped back down between her legs as she spread them a little wider so you could see.
Pointer and middle making that perfect V to spread herself wide open for your hungry eyes, fulfilling her fantasy and yours.
Invincible characters react to their first kiss with you ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
𝕊𝕙𝕪!𝕐/𝕟 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕩 𝕊𝕡𝕝𝕠𝕕𝕖; ♡⋆.ೃ࿔*
Rex stood with his arms crossed, watching Y/n talk to Bulletproof. She was smiling just a little, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, answering something shyly — and it made something twist inside him.
He didn’t even know why he was mad. It just irritated him.
Why was she like that with him?
Why not with him?
Loudly — on purpose — he called out:
— Oh, cool. New dynamic duo? Y/n and Mr. Emotionless?
They both turned. Bulletproof just gave a short nod, not getting involved, while Y/n looked down awkwardly.
— What? — she asked softly as she approached Rex.
— Nothing, — he scoffed. — Just wondering if you're gonna be chatting with him all the time now instead of me.
She blinked.
— We were just talking…
— Yeah. I saw. Smiling at him like he's a stand-up comic, not a walking brick wall.
Y/n frowned a little.
— Are you… jealous?
He made a face.
— No. I’ve got eyes, that’s all. I remember when you couldn’t say two words around me — now suddenly you’re Miss Chatterbox with *him*? Feels kinda… weird.
She went quiet, then said softly but seriously:
— With him, it’s just like talking to a friend.
But with you… it’s different.
Rex looked away, scratched the back of his neck.
— Well… good. ’Cause, you know, I’m kinda used to you being my awkward, shy, ridiculously cute Y/n. Not someone who chats up every guy around.
She smiled a little:
— I’m still her.
It’s just… being around you is harder. Because I like you.
He froze for a second, then blurted:
— Damn…
— Was that supposed to be adorable and flustering at the same time?
’Cause, yeah, it worked.
She giggled, leaning her head lightly against his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her casually and muttered:
— Alright, alright… Just no more “buddy-buddy” team-ups, okay?
They stood close — a little closer than friends, a little quieter than usual. Rex was looking at Y/n thoughtfully.
— So… — he said suddenly, — did you ever have someone before me?
She flinched just a little but didn’t look away.
— No… I didn’t.
— No one? — he squinted.
— Mhm. Not even… — her voice dropped. — Not even a kiss.
He froze, then raised his brows and stepped in closer, smirking:
— Hold up. Are you telling me… this — he motioned around her face with his finger and gently nudged her shoulder — this sweet, awkward, horned Y/n — and no one even tried?
Y/n looked down and shrugged:
— I… never really thought about it.
— No way, — he snorted. — What, was everyone blind?
She flushed even deeper, hiding a little in her hoodie collar.
— Ah, I get it now, — he said, drawing it out. — You were saving the moment. For someone… special. Like, I don’t know, some incredibly amazing guy.
He pulled an innocent face, clearly referring to himself. Y/n gave a shy little smile:
— Maybe…
Rex gave a thoughtful hum:
— Well, if that’s the case… I guess I could make the sacrifice.
She looked up at him — surprised, embarrassed. And he was already speaking softer now, with that look that always made her heart beat faster:
— Want me to be your first kiss? Only if you promise not to compare anyone to me afterward. No one’s gonna top it anyway.
Y/n giggled through the blush:
— Cocky much?
He leaned in a little, voice dropping to a playful whisper:
— Mhm. But you’re still saying yes, right?
She nodded.
Rex leaned in and kissed her — slow, gentle, like it wasn’t just a kiss but something a little more. And when he pulled back, he smirked again:
— There. Officially spoiled now.
𝕊𝕙𝕪!𝕐/𝕟 𝕩 𝔼𝕧𝕖 ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄
The rooftop was quiet, bathed in the amber hues of the setting sun. The city buzzed below, distant and unfocused, like background noise in a dream. Up here, it felt like the world had slowed down just for the two of them.
Eve sat with her legs crossed, elbows resting on her knees as she gazed out toward the skyline. Her hair shimmered in the dying light, like it had caught fire in the best way. Y/n sat beside her, close but careful — her hands in her lap, fingers nervously tracing the hem of her sweater.
They had been talking for nearly an hour now. Not about missions. Not about powers. Just… about things. About the little thoughts that filled their heads at night. Favorite songs. Old cartoons. Secret fears. Eve had a way of listening that made you feel seen, and Y/n always found herself saying more than she planned.
Then Eve turned slightly, a playful smile on her lips.
— You’re blushing again.
Y/n looked down quickly, tugging her sleeves over her hands.
— Am I?
— Mhm. You always do that when I look at you too long.
Y/n tried to laugh it off, cheeks now fully warm.
— Maybe I’m just cold?
— Sure, that’s why you turn red like a strawberry.
Eve nudged her gently with her knee, teasing but soft. Y/n peeked up through her lashes, finally letting out a breath.
— It’s not just the way you look at me. It’s… you. You always make me nervous.
Eve blinked, genuinely surprised.
— Me? Why?
— You’re confident. You always know what to say. And you’re beautiful. It’s kind of… a lot, when I’m sitting this close to you.
Eve was quiet for a moment, her smile dimming into something softer.
— That’s funny. Because you’re the one who makes me nervous.
Y/n looked up, eyes wide.
— Wait. Seriously?
— Yeah, seriously. You’re so… genuine. You don’t fake anything. It’s like when I talk to you, I can’t just hide behind all the stuff I usually do. And that’s kinda scary. In a good way.
Y/n blinked fast, heart thudding.
Then she said it. Barely above a whisper.
— I’ve… never kissed anyone before.
The words lingered in the air, delicate and vulnerable. Eve’s eyes searched her face, not for weakness — but for truth. And when she found it, her expression only softened further.
— Never?
Y/n shook her head slowly, tucking her hands under her chin like she could hide in them.
— I always thought I’d know when it was right. But it never was. Until now, maybe.
Eve inched closer, slowly — like she was afraid to break the moment.
— Y/n… would you be okay if… I was your first?
Y/n froze, breath caught in her throat. Then, after a beat, she nodded.
Eve reached up and gently tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, her fingers brushing Y/n’s cheek. The touch was light, reverent. Their eyes met — and held.
When Eve leaned in, she moved slowly, giving Y/n every second to change her mind. But she didn’t. She leaned in too, heart pounding, and when their lips touched, it was like a sigh — soft, unsure, but full of promise.
It wasn’t a dramatic kiss. No fireworks, no rushing. Just warmth. Care. A quiet electricity that pulsed between them like a heartbeat.
When they pulled back, Eve rested her forehead gently against Y/n’s and whispered, her voice a mix of wonder and playfulness:
— Told you. Not so scary.
Y/n smiled, her cheeks still flushed, her eyes shining.
— Only because it was you.
Eve let out a small, breathy laugh and brushed her thumb lightly along Y/n’s knuckles.
— Guess that means I did something right, huh?
— You did everything right.
And for a while, they just sat there — shoulder to shoulder, hearts a little lighter than before, as the sky shifted from gold to deep blue.
𝕊𝕙𝕪!𝕐/𝕟 𝕩 𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕜 𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕪𝕤𝕠𝕟 ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄
The park was nearly empty by the time they reached the quiet path. The wind rustled lazily through dry leaves, and the rare lampposts seemed to breathe light softly, not in a hurry to disturb their solitude.
Y/n sat down on the bench first, tugging the sleeves of her sweater over her fingers. Mark sat beside her, just slightly to the side — that awkward kind of politeness when you want to be close, but you're afraid to scare someone off.
— "Feels like the whole world’s already asleep," he mumbled, staring into the shadows beneath the trees.
— "But we’re not," she replied softly, with a gentle smile.
A bit of silence followed. Then Mark started telling her about how Rex tried to heat up a frozen burrito in the lab microwave and nearly caused a small explosion. Y/n let out a laugh she couldn’t hold back, hiding her mouth with her sleeve, and Mark smiled with relief.
— "I’m glad you came," he said after a pause, scratching the back of his neck. His cheeks were slightly pink, though he tried to hide it by looking away. — "You always kind of… hide a little. But I’m really glad you didn’t hide from me."
Y/n squeezed her fingers together.
— "I do hide," she admitted quietly. — "I’m not like the rest of you. Sometimes it’s easier — to stay quiet. Just to be near."
He turned toward her — and this time, his whole face flushed. Even the tips of his ears and his nose turned pink.
— "But I like when you're near. Even when you’re quiet. Especially then."
She lowered her eyes but didn’t turn her head. Stayed silent just a bit longer than she should have.
— "Can I… say something dumb?"
— "Only if I get to say something dumb too," he replied with a soft smile — and another blush.
She exhaled a little:
— "You would’ve noticed anyway. Even if I never said anything."
— "Noticed what?"
— "That I like you."
He froze, holding his breath for just a second. And when her words fully registered — he flushed instantly and visibly. Cheeks, ears, even his neck.
— "I… me too. For a while now. A lot."
Y/n clutched the hem of her sweater awkwardly.
— "Do you… do you want to kiss me?"
He swallowed, nodded quickly, then exhaled a shaky breath:
— "I do. But only if you do too."
She didn’t say anything — just nodded, barely.
Mark leaned in slowly — carefully, as if he was afraid of breaking something fragile. His lips met hers gently, almost hesitantly. The kiss was light, warm — like breath in the cold. So careful. So honest.
When he pulled back, Y/n still had her eyes closed. Then she whispered, barely audible:
— "That was my first."
Mark froze. Then blushed again — deep and bright.
— "Then I… I hope it was… good. I really tried."
She giggled softly, and he smiled too — calmer now, though still visibly pink.
— "Want to know something dumb?" he asked.
— "Yeah."
— "I wanted to do that ever since… you accidentally froze the door and then apologized to it."
Y/n snorted, clutching at his sleeve.
— "And you still wanted to kiss me after that?"
— "Even more."
She leaned in a bit, resting her cheek against his shoulder. And he, still a little flustered, wrapped an arm around her — careful, like holding a fragile gift.
And that’s how they stayed — in that corner of the park, beneath the quiet glow of the streetlamps. As if the lights themselves were softly blessing the beginning of something new.
𝕊𝕙𝕪!𝕐/𝕟 𝕩 𝔸𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔸𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕟 ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄
They were sitting aboard a small observation shuttle, quietly drifting in orbit above Earth. Through the transparent dome above their heads, the planet glowed in its fragile, blue beauty.
Allen turned to Y/n — his smile was wide, but not cocky. Just… warm. Kind.
– You know, – he said, tilting his head slightly, – you humans have this amazing thing. You give meaning to "firsts."
Y/n looked at him, a little puzzled.
– First meetings. First words. First glances. First kisses...
He paused, then continued a bit softer.
– Where I’m from, it’s more about efficiency. But the longer I spend here, the more I understand – a "first" isn’t just a moment. It’s… a memory. Something you keep.
He looked at her more seriously.
– I don’t want to just be part of your experience. I want to be something… good, if you’ll let me.
Y/n froze, looking at his face, at the kind, slightly sad eyes that suddenly held an entire universe of understanding.
– I… – her voice trembled. – I’ve never…
He nodded gently.
– I know.
Y/n gave a shy smile, her cheeks flushing.
– You don’t have to…
– I don’t have to. I just… want to. But only if you do too.
She was quiet for a long time, looking into his eyes. Then – slowly, but steadily – she nodded:
– Then… okay.
Allen leaned forward carefully, giving her time to change her mind. His hand lightly touched hers — warm, steady. And when their lips met — for a second, for a breath, for forever — she didn’t just feel nervousness… she felt a deep, quiet calm.
He pulled away gently, smiling:
– That’s going to be one of those “firsts” I’ll remember forever too.
Y/n let out a soft laugh through her light daze:
– Even though you’re from another planet?
He winked:
– Especially because I’m from another planet.
Allen pulled back slightly, and there was a flicker of nervousness in his eyes. He cleared his throat like something was caught there and said as casually as he could:
– So, if I understand human customs correctly… now we’re supposed to… eat ice cream?
Y/n blinked, confused:
– What?
– Or… wait… – He frowned in thought. – Watch a movie under a blanket? Or officially declare ourselves in love? Is that… protocol?
Y/n giggled, covering her mouth:
– No, not… I mean, not all at once.
– Aha! Good. Because I’m still not sure when exactly I’m supposed to give you flowers or meet your parents.
He leaned in slightly and whispered:
– I actually prepared a speech. Just in case I had to ask your father for permission to date you.
Y/n nearly choked with laughter:
– What?!
Allen shrugged with mock offense:
– I put effort into it! It included the line: “I respect your daughter and, as a representative of the Coalition of Planets, I humbly request your diplomatic support in the development of our romantic alliance.”
– You’re insane, – she laughed breathlessly.
He nodded with mock seriousness:
– It’s been medically confirmed. I have two hearts. Which means I can be twice as in love.
Y/n blushed, staring at him, and then he grew unexpectedly serious:
– But right now, both are beating for you.
And for just a second, despite all the laughter and awkwardness, her heart beat a little faster too.
𝕊𝕙𝕪!𝕐/𝕟 𝕩 ℝ𝕠𝕓𝕠𝕥 ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄
They sat on the edge of the tech deck, surrounded by the soft hum of machines and dim lighting. It was almost empty here — as if time had slowed down. Y/n kept sneaking glances at him, trying to understand how he felt. Not how he looked — but what he felt like. The texture of his place in the world.
— You look a lot, — he said quietly, not looking directly at her. Just stating it.
Y/n flinched.
— I’m sorry. I just… — she swallowed. — I can’t help thinking that you…
He turned to her slightly, calm and composed:
— Not him. Not one of them. Not Rex.
She gripped the sleeves of her sweater, exhaling through her teeth:
— Yeah. You talk like him… look like him… But you’re not him. And I keep waiting for someone to realize that — besides me.
He was quiet for a long time.
— It matters to me… that you see it.
Y/n looked down, then slowly turned her head toward him.
— Can I ask something weird?
— All of your questions interest me.
— Well… — she hesitated, — what’s it like? Being… you know… real?
He looked at his hand, like he still wasn’t quite used to it.
— Complicated. Unpredictable. Sometimes too… loud. But it’s better than living behind glass.
Y/n blushed a little, but didn’t look away:
— Can I… touch? Just… curious.
He looked slightly surprised, but didn’t pull away.
— You can.
She carefully reached out and touched his wrist, running her fingers along his skin — it was warmer than she expected. Soft. Almost normal. But still… not quite. It felt like touching something that wasn’t supposed to be real, and yet was.
— Amazing, — she whispered. — It’s like… someone built a person out of all these parts, but it still turned into something real.
He smiled faintly — barely noticeable.
— Maybe that’s what a person is.
She stayed still, still holding his hand.
— You’re not like the others. I don’t know how to explain it… but it’s not about the body. It’s about you.
For the first time, he looked a little uncertain. And quietly said:
— Then maybe I don’t have to be afraid of being myself around you.
She was still holding his hand — uncertain, but not letting go. At some point, their fingers intertwined, and Y/n flinched slightly at the unexpected contact. He looked at her slowly, as if considering something.
— You’re trembling, — he said almost in a whisper.
— I… I’m not used to being this… close, — she murmured. — With someone who feels everything so clearly.
He lowered his gaze.
— I’m not used to it either. This… is a new protocol.
She let out a soft chuckle, then quickly covered her mouth, embarrassed. The corners of his lips twitched — almost a smile.
— Would you like me to try something off-protocol? — he asked, looking at her with such quiet intensity it made her chest tighten.
She couldn’t answer right away. She just nodded slightly. Barely.
Robot slowly leaned in — carefully, as if approaching the edge of a cliff. His hand was still in hers. And the moment their faces drew close, Y/n closed her eyes.
And then their lips met.
The kiss was quiet. Hesitant. Not out of fear — but out of newness. As if they were both learning to breathe again. It wasn’t rushed, it wasn’t long — but it held more than just a touch. It held recognition. An attempt to be honest. Courage.
When he pulled away, she kept her eyes closed for a moment longer. Then she opened them — and for the first time, looked at him differently. Not as someone strange or confusing. But as someone real.
— That was… — she stumbled, but her eyes were glowing, — …very off-protocol.
— Then I’m glad I broke it, — he replied softly.
Y/n laughed — quietly, blushing, full of warmth. And he simply looked at her, as if truly seeing her for the first time — and understanding: yes, he had Rex’s body… but to her, he was becoming himself.
𝕊𝕙𝕪!𝕐/𝕟 𝕩 𝔻𝕦𝕡𝕝𝕚-𝕂𝕒𝕥𝕖 ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄
They sat on the roof of an abandoned building, catching their breath after the fight. The sky was painted in golden-pink shades of sunset, and in the distance, the echoes of battle still lingered. The air smelled of dust, blood, and exhaustion — and yet, it was surprisingly quiet.
Kate stretched, brushing grime off her shoulder.
— Honestly? You were amazing. I saw how you covered for Monster Girl — that was badass.
Y/n smiled shyly, glancing away.
— I just… acted without thinking. Probably just lucky.
Kate turned to her, a bit closer now, her voice softer.
— That wasn’t luck. That was you. Every time, you're getting braver.
Y/n blushed, hugging her knees. But she stole a glance at her friend — a little longer than usual. Kate noticed. Her gaze grew warmer.
— What?
— I just thought… — Y/n whispered, unsure, — you’re beautiful.
Silence hung between them for a moment. Then Kate gave a small chuckle.
— And you’re adorable, you know that?
Y/n let out a tiny squeak and hid her face in her knees.
— I mean it, — Kate added, quieter now. — And… I noticed. The way you look at me.
Y/n tensed, ready to retreat, but Kate leaned in slightly.
— I like it.
Before Y/n could get scared of her own feelings, Kate gently leaned forward. Their lips met — soft, hesitant, but intentional. It was a post-battle kiss. A kiss after everything. Between two people who were already close… but only now brave enough to admit it.
When they pulled away, a quiet cough came from the edge of the rooftop:
— Ahem.
One of Kate’s clones stood by the broken railing.
— Sorry to interrupt, but next time, could you maybe give us, the duplicates, a heads-up before… y’know, that starts?
Y/n turned bright red, covering her face. Kate sighed deeply.
— You’re my clone. Haven’t you learned tact?
— I’m a copy, not a saint. I was on lookout duty… and then this happened. What was I supposed to do, not watch?
Kate rolled her eyes and turned to Y/n with a half-smile.
— Remind me to delete her later.
Y/n laughed softly, hiding her face against Kate’s shoulder. And for the first time all day, her laughter wasn’t nervous — it was warm and full of light.
thoughts on clingy Eve Teschmacher if you’re writing for her??👀
clingy!girlfriend eve teschmacher. 𝜗𝜚 hc’s
r e q u e s t e d ♡
cw ᝰ .ᐟ gender neutral reader ,, sfw ,, trigger warning to anyone with avoidant attachment style 😰😰
EVE TESCHMACHER . . . drapes affection around you like a scarf you can’t shrug off. she’s not subtle. she’s loud with her love, the hello kiss, the gasp when you walk in, the selfie posted within minutes of being together. she leaves half-empty coffee mugs in your place because she stayed late “just one more minute”, and plasters sticky notes on your side of the mirror with reminders like “don’t forget i love you”.
has no concept of personal space. eve doesn’t sit next to you; she sits on you. whether it’s a couch, a chair, or even a countertop while you’re cooking, she’s pressed against you somehow, head on your shoulder, fingers trailing your sleeve, knee bumping yours. she’ll absent-mindedly play with your hair while you’re watching something, trace your collarbone with her nails, or slide her cold hands under your shirt because she wants skin contact.
forgets herself when she’s with you. if you like something, suddenly she likes it too. “i’ve always wanted to try that!” when you mention something completely new. she laughs when you laugh, looks where you look. sometimes she’ll look at you and say, “you make me feel smart.”
texts you constantly. she’ll send twenty messages in a row that are just:
“hey”
“what are you doing”
“i miss you”
“want to get lunch?”
—- even though she saw you an hour ago. if you take too long to respond she gets fidgety. when you finally answer she floods you with emojis and hearts.
shamelessly touchy in public spaces. hand-holding is non-negotiable. if someone looks at you for too long, she slides her hand up to your chest or loops both arms around your waist, territorial in the sweetest, silliest way.
she hates being apart. if you say you need a night to yourself, she’ll nod and smile — and then show up anyway “because I was just in the neighborhood.” she’ll claim she only wanted to drop something off, but her makeup’s done and she’s holding a bag of takeout for two. she sits on your couch, kicks off her heels, and curls up next to you. she’ll apologize later for crashing your space, but she’ll do it again next week.
clingy even in sleep. falls asleep tangled in you. one leg over your waist, hand gripping your shirt, her face tucked against your throat. if you move she murmurs and tightens her hold like you’re a dream she refuses to lose. in the mornings, sometimes she wakes up first on purpose just to look at you.
calls you constantly. it doesn’t matter what time it is, if something crosses her mind, she’s hitting call before thinking twice. you’ll answer in the middle of a meeting, and she’s like, “you have to hear what happened at the store—” completely unaware that you sound busy. even when you tell her you can’t talk, she goes, “okay, real quick!” and keeps going. she’ll tell entire stories, ramble through every detail, giggle to herself, and take as long as she wants to explain.
follows you from room to room. you could be brushing your teeth, folding laundry, answering an email, and eve’s there, sitting on the counter, swinging her legs, talking about nothing. she wants to be near you, even if you’re quiet or distracted.
doesn’t like when you leave first. if you stand up before she does, she grabs your wrist automatically. she’ll look up at you and say, “where are you going?” even if you just said where. when you say you’ll be right back, she nods, but you can tell she’s counting the minutes. when you come home she’s waiting by the door every time, pretending she wasn’t.
never really gets mad at you. even if you snap at her or tell her you’re too busy, she forgets five minutes later. she’ll text something like, “still love you 💞” and move on. she’s not pretending, she really does let things go that easily. she doesn’t have the capacity to hold grudges; her brain just skips to the next thought, and usually that thought is you.
doesn’t understand the concept of space. if you tell her you’re having a “me day,” she shows up anyway with coffee and says, “well, now it’s a us day.” she’ll stretch out on your couch like she belongs there, watching you work, trying to make conversation even when you’re clearly focused. she thinks spending time with you is automatically a good thing, no matter what you’re doing.
doesn’t realize when she’s being too much. she’ll talk through your movie, touch your hair while you’re focused, or sit too close when you’re hot because she doesn’t think you’d really mind.
wants to hang out every weekend. if you tell her you’re busy saturday, she pouts, “what about sunday?” and if you’re busy then too, she says, “okay… well, next weekend, right?” she hates when you make plans with anyone else. might throw a tantrum if you try.
floods your phone with selfies. not just one or two, dozens. one in the morning, one when she’s getting coffee, one when she changes outfits, one when she’s bored. every time it’s “which one’s your favorite?” or “you like this one?” she needs you to pick, to compliment her. she’ll do little poses she thinks you like, pouty faces, big smiles, hair flipped to the side. if you don’t answer fast enough she sends another one, “this one’s better, right?” sometimes she’ll send you photos of her outfit to get your opinion.
over-explains everything she does, because she wants you to approve. if she goes somewhere, she tells you the whole story, why, how, who was there, what she wore, what she ordered. she wants you to like her choices.
doesn’t pick up hints that you’re annoyed. you could sigh, answer short, even say “eve, i’m busy,” and she’ll just smile through the phone, “oh, okay, i’ll be quick!” and then talk for ten more minutes. she doesn’t notice the tone, she only hears your voice, which to her means you’re listening. she gets so wrapped up in telling you about her day that she forgets time exists.
wants to be wherever you are. if you’re going out, she’s already asking, “can i come?” she loves tagging along, even if she has no reason to be there. you could be running errands, and she’ll say, “i’ll keep you company!”
doesn’t like when you’re distracted. if you’re on your phone too long she’ll start talking louder, asking random questions to pull your attention back. she’ll lean against you, peek at what you’re doing, and go, “what’s that? who’s that?” half out of curiosity, half out of wanting to be part of whatever has your focus. she can’t stand being ignored.
tells you every random thought she has. she’ll call to say she saw a dog that looked like it could talk. she’ll text, “what’s your favorite color again?” even though she’s asked five times before. her mind is a running commentary, and she wants to share every bit of it with you. if you don’t respond fast enough she fills the silence with another story.
brings little things to remind you of her. she’ll “forget” her lip gloss in your car, leave a hair clip on your counter, a sweatshirt draped on your chair. she wants traces of herself around you.
inserts herself into your world like she’s always been there. you introduce her to your family once, and suddenly she’s calling your mom “mom.” she’s hugging your siblings like she’s known them since birth, bringing them gifts, asking what snacks they like. she’s so confident about it, just decides she belongs. if your family has a group chat, somehow she’s in it. she sends good morning messages with too many emojis and asks your dad how work was.
loves being around your family too much. she helps your mom cook dinner, laughs too loud at your dad’s jokes, helps your little sister with her hair, buys your little brother video games, bakes with your grandparents. she takes pictures with everyone and posts captions like “family dinner 🩷” as if she’s already a daughter-in-law.
does the same with your friends. you bring her to one group hangout, and that’s it. she’s a permanent member. she follows all of them on social media, comments on their posts, sends memes to the group chat, and says things like, “we should do brunch!” about people she’s known for two days. she doesn’t mean to intrude; she just assumes that because she loves you, she should love everyone around you, too. she’ll pout if you try to go somewhere without her, like, “why can’t i come? i like your friends!”
emotionally transparent. you always know what she’s feeling, she wears it right on her face. when she’s happy, she glows; when she’s sad, she pouts like a child. she doesn’t play games or hide when she’s jealous or hurt. if she feels left out, she’ll tug your sleeve and whine, “you forgot about me.”
she’s so clingy that she doesn’t even realize it’s clingy. she genuinely believes that couples are supposed to do everything together. errands, appointments, grocery runs, even scrolling through your phones, if she’s not with you, she feels wrong. she thinks space is something other people need, not you two. she’d sit with you through your work meetings if she could.
you know what she had for breakfast, how her coworker looked at her funny, what shoes she almost wore, what song was playing in the elevator. she shares everything because she wants you to feel like you were there too. she says “i wish you were here” at least twenty times a day.
gets whiny when you’re distant. if you’re quieter than usual, she gets this sulky frown. she’ll tug on your sleeve or lean in your face “are you mad at meee? :(” she’ll keep glancing at you until you reassure her, and then her whole mood shifts. she lights up again instantly.
talks about “us” constantly. it’s never “you” or “me.” it’s always “we should go there,” “we should do this,” “we’d look so cute doing that.” she doesn’t see herself as separate from you anymore. she keeps little lists of things for “us” — movies to watch, restaurants to try, vacation spots she wants to see with you.
makes your world smaller without trying to. you start realizing you don’t hang out with friends as much, not because she told you not to, but because she’s always there. she fills every free minute with plans, calls, texts, affection. it’s not controlling, it’s consuming. she loves big and it takes up space.
needs your full attention when you text. she replies instantly, like, instantly. you send a message and she’s already typing back, and if you don’t answer within a few minutes, she gets upset. she needs the back-and-forth rhythm. you can’t be doing anything when you’re texting her besides text her.
wants you to interact with everything she posts. if she posts a selfie or story and you don’t comment, she’ll absolutely notice. doesn’t get angry, just disappointed in a childish way, “why didn’t you like it? do you not like how i look?” she expects you to be her biggest fan, because she’s definitely yours. if you repost her photo she’ll replay your story a hundred times just to see her username on it.
loves matching things. outfits, phone cases, mugs, wallpapers, if it’s something you both can have, she’s all for it. she’ll show up wearing the same color as you on purpose and beam. she thinks it’s the cutest thing ever when people notice. she’ll even change her instagram bio to something that matches yours without asking.
constantly trying to “help.” she’ll offer to clean, organize, cook, run errands, anything. she wants to be part of your routine, even the boring parts. half the time she makes things more complicated, but she’s so proud of herself that you can’t say anything.
believes love fixes everything. if you’re stressed or upset, she immediately starts showering you with affection, hugs, kisses, sweet words, convinced it’ll make you feel better.
wants to fall asleep on call every single night. if you can’t be together in person, she needs your voice to fall asleep to. she’ll beg for a “sleep call,” even when she knows you’re exhausted.
overshares without meaning to. when she runs into your friends, coworkers, or family while she’s not with you, she immediately acts like she’s been part of their world forever. she’ll tell your mom about the “big life plans” you two haven’t actually discussed yet, or mention that she’s been “thinking about getting a place near you guys.” because she’s so sure of your future together that she forgets it isn’t official. eve genuinely believes she’s already family, and gets confused when people laugh or look surprised.
lives for pictures together. if you go out, she’ll stop mid-walk to say, “wait, we need a picture!” takes dozens until she finds one she loves, and then immediately posts it with a caption full of hearts and emojis. she doesn’t care if you look tired or caught off guard, she thinks every moment deserves to be documented. she’ll scroll through them later, staring at your face like it’s art, sighing about how cute you two look together.
makes herself at home instantly. at your place, she’ll kick off her shoes, change into one of your shirts, and start tidying or reorganizing like she’s lived there forever. she feels comfortable around you. she’ll hum to herself while folding laundry or cooking breakfast, acting like you’ve been together for years.
takes compliments so seriously. you tell her she looks pretty, and she’ll replay it in her head for days. she’ll ask, “really?” with a huge grin, as if she’s hearing it for the first time every time.
very delusional about your future. in that overly optimistic, movie-romance kind of way. she talks like she already knows you’ll get married someday, move in together, grow old. she genuinely can’t imagine it any other way. she believes in the fairytale too much to think about it ending.
shows up unannounced constantly. she thinks surprises are romantic, so she just appears. at your apartment, your office, wherever you might be. she’ll show up with coffee or pastries, smiling like, “i was in the neighborhood!” (she wasn’t.) she has no sense of boundaries, to her, love means always being close. if you look tired or overwhelmed, she misreads it as you needing her even more.
needs your opinion before she does anything. she won’t buy clothes, get her nails done, or post a photo without running it by you. “do you think this looks cute?” “which one?” she values your validation so much she’s almost paralyzed without it.
tries to sync your schedules. if you say you wake up at 7, suddenly she’s waking up at 7 too. if you go to the gym in the evening, she starts tagging along. wants you both to go to bed at the same time so you’re not awake without her.
keeps little countdowns for things that involve you. the next time she’s seeing you, your birthday, anniversaries, random dates only she remembers. her phone calendar is full of reminders with hearts and exclamation marks. she’ll text you “only three days!!!” like it’s a national holiday.
her pet names are one of a kind. no one else in the world has them because she invented them. she’ll twist your name into something ridiculous and over-the-top: if your name’s “ben,” you’re suddenly benny-bear, bensy-boo, or my benana.
always looks for your reaction when she’s talking. even in a group, she’s scanning your face mid-sentence — did you smile? did you find that funny? she wants to be impressive to you.
doesn’t know how to let go first. when you hug goodbye, she waits for you to ease out of it, and even then she lingers. one last squeeze, one last kiss, one last thing. her goodbyes are never clean. they’re always hesitant, pouty, whiny, “call me when you get home?” even if you’re just going a few blocks away.
