#He's gonna break out of his shell once he stops trying to hide

[clintbennet]

based on your character's zodiac sign, what are two good traits and two bad traits that they embody?

Ah this is so good~

Gemini

Good traits

Gemini are highly adaptable and quick witted, they can learn new things quickly and easily with natural curiosity. They're also outgoing and playful enjoying the company of others.

Bad traits

Gemini are nervous and can tend to be indecisive, they especially don't like being confined and have a tendency to become depressed easily under too much structure and repetition.

[kmt123whatsthetea]

No books for a prankster

George Weasley x reader

Requested by: @adinamayb2

Request gist: “5 foot Ravenclaw bookworm and George have hardcore sex”

A/N: Thank you for the request! For this fic, I decided that George would try to take the reader's mind off of books because he's jealous, if that makes sense (it will make sense when read). I don't know why it's taken me longer than usual to write fanfics (I think I'm just going mad yk). Two book related fanfics one after the other, I hope you guys like books lol.

T/W: Unprotected sex, Hardcore sex, Very jealous George, mentions of bondage (but no bondage), Teasing, Underwear gag, Creampie

George hated books.

Sure he didn't mind reading every now and again, but when those books took his girlfriend’s attention off of him, he hated them. When he suggested a date, it was always ���Just another chapter, Georgie, I promise” or “This new book I got is so good, let me tell you all about it”.

George was happy that you had a reading hobby, but he missed your attention. Sometimes he felt guilty for being jealous of your books, until that horny little devil on his shoulder reminded him that the more you read, the less time you were in his bed.

He could feel his patience slipping every time he saw you with a book. He missed those days where he would sneak into the Ravenclaw common room and kidnap you for a date without having to worry about you losing your page in your newest reading material (he knew he was being dramatic, but he could help it).

One evening, he snuck into the Ravenclaw common room and found you sitting in front of the fire with your nose stuck in a book. He edged his way closer until he was sitting on the sofa next to you.

“Reading again, love?”

You were, but his breath on the shell of your ear made it difficult to move on to the next word.

“Georgie, you know I like reading. What are you doing here so late anyway?”

“I missed my favourite girl. I sleep better when i'm next to you…or inside you”

You turned your attention back to your book, hiding your blush within the pages. George adjusted so that he was laying down, his head on your lap. His eyes travelled up your chest and to your eyes, which were still avoiding his.

“I came all this way to see you, baby, are you just gonna ignore me?”

His teasing pout, like the one he was wearing at that very moment, could either be very cute or very. George took matters into his own hands and took the book from you. He stood up from the sofa and put the book down before reaching his hands out to you.

When your hot, horny boyfriend offers you his hand, would you really decline it?

You take his hand and let him pull you up, his tall frame towering over you. Dating a boy who was a good foot taller than you came with serious advantages. If you wanted a book from a high shelf, all you'd have to do is ask. If he was tired, he could easily lean his head on yours like a boney pillow.

George pulled you up to your dorm room, having familiarised himself with the route from his countless visits. Once you were both inside and the door was shut, you were his.

His hands pulled at your school shirt, grunting when you reminded him not to break the buttons again. When he managed to strip you down to your underwear, he picked you up in his arms before quite literally throwing you onto the bed.

He pulled his own shirt over his head before moving his hands to his belt. His eyes stayed on yours, a predatory grin painted on his face.

“You waste all your attention on those silly books. They can’t make you feel as good as I can, baby”

George pushed your legs apart and got in between them. He brought his hand down to rub your clit through your underwear. With every moan and squirm, his smile grew wider. His other hand presses on your stomach, stopping you from squirming anymore.

When you kept squirming, he brought his hand down on your thigh in a sharp slap.

“If you keep squirming, I’ll tie your hands to the bed posts. Are you gonna be a good girl and stop squirming?”

“I’ll be good Georgie, I promise”

He gave out a satisfied grunt and pulled your underwear down your legs. George pushed his boxers down enough to pull out his cock. He pushed his tip against your clit, smearing his precum on the throbbing bundle of nerves.

George pushed his tip in before pulling back out. He always enjoyed teasing you.

“On second thought, maybe I should leave you with your books”

He grinned when you whined. It's not like he would just leave you high and dry now, he loved being inside of you too much.

“Please Georgie, I don’t want those books, I want you”

George loved hearing how much you loved and needed him (even if he did use teasing as a leverage to hear it). He thrust his cock inside you fully, his hand covering your mouth when you let out a scream in pleasure.

Instead of removing his hand, he looked down at your underwear on the mattress next to your thigh and got an evil idea. He picked the discarded underwear up and removed his hand from your mouth.

“Open up, baby”

You opened your mouth obediently for George, letting him push the fabric into your mouth. When he knew that no sounds would slip past the fashioned gag, he pulled out and rammed his cock back in. His hips slammed against yours with each thrust, marking your skin red.

His hands gripped your ankles, pushing them up against your chest and folding you into a mating press. His thrusts didn’t relent, pounding into you with an animalistic passion.

His fingers came down to pinch your clit, rubbing it in messy circles.

“Does my baby wanna cum all over my cock?”

The gag muffled your pleas. The most you could do was nod like a woman possessed.

“Alright then baby, make a mess on my cock and I’ll cover that sweet little pussy in my cum”

That bad snapped, and you came hard on his cock. Spots filled your vision and your screams somehow surpassed the fabric gagging your mouth.

“Such a good girl for me, looking so pretty with my cock deep inside you”

George pulls his cock out, pumping it with his fist. After a couple more pumps, his cum sprayed over your swollen folds. He moved his hips a little closer, his tip dragging along your mound and leaving a sticky trail.

His hand reached towards your mouth, pulling the crumpled underwear from your mouth. His other hand came to cradle your cheek, a tender touch after a hot and heavy session.

“You always do so well for me, my pretty baby”

[ectologia]

TERNARY

TOMURA SHIGARAKI + FEMALE READER + DABI

WARNING: DUBCON/NONCON, CLIT TORTURE, GENITAL SPANKING, ANAL FINGERING, MALE MASTURBATION, THREESOME, CREAMPIE, HUMILIATION, MOCKING, SLIGHT GORE, MENTION OF TORTURE METHODS, PROFANITY, SLIGHT DABI X SHIGARAKI?

“Come out, come out..” Shigaraki sing-songs, shuffling against the moist gravel. “Where the fu— Dabi!”

“Mm.” Dabi hums, hand lax in his pocket while the other occupies a smouldering cigarette, pinched between his ashen finger-tips.

Shigaraki snarls a groan from the back of his throat. “Stop stroking your dick and come help me, you moron.”

“What’s the fuckin’ point? She’s probably long gone by now.” Dabi shrugs, making no attempt to gather himself. “And does it really matter? It’s just one chick, what’s she gonna d—”

Shigaraki spikes, shoulders prickling as he lurches towards Dabi. “What’s she gonna do?” He scoffs. “Tell those fuckin’ bastardin’ heroes where our base is, that’s fuckin’ what! I’m starting to think I should reconsider putting you second in command if you’re just gon—”

Dabi throws his hands up, feigning an apologetic frown. “Alright, alright! ..Damn.” He brings the smoked pick back down to the seam of his lips, inhaling until a puff of smog rolls out of his nostrils. “I was just kidding, Boss.” He smirks from beneath his clutch of scarred knuckles.

Shigaraki eyeballs Dabi with a flat face. “Dumb-ass.” He swats Dabi on the back of the head, a bit to strongly for his liking once the cigarette previously perched between his fingers is flung onto the sludge-stained pavement.

“Nice one.” Dabi huffs with an audible breath, shuffling through his pockets for another. “You know, it wouldn’t hurt to be a li—”

“Shh. Shut the fuck up.” Shigaraki hisses, pressing his index to the petals of his flaking lips. “I just heard something.”

The two stand, frozen in ear-splitting silence.

Both pairs of eyes meet, knotted and furrowed as Dabi’s arm suddenly darts out, snatching at the blackened void.

“Ah, now would ya’ look at that.”

You yelp once a mangled hand swipes at your neck, clamping down and holding you in place.

“You were right Boss, little shit was hiding here all along.” Dabi snickers, jostling your shaken form like a hunter vaunting it’s kill.

Shigaraki rolls his eyes at his comrades witty intimations, eyeing the tiny thing hanging from his clutches.

He clicks his tongue, re-adjusting Father’s thumb across his cheek-bone. “Sneaky little bitch.”

You’re bound and stiff, eyes wide and jaw locked in your shell-shocked petrification.

“What do you wanna’ do to her first?” Dabi drawls, tilting his chin down to look at you with a wicked grin. “Break her legs? Skin ‘er? Blood-eagle?”

“Hm..” Shigaraki hums, tapping a thumb against his chin. You’re spun once, twice to get all the best angles as they inspect your physique. “I mean.. It’d be a shame to let her go to waste.”

Dabi smirks, darting an intrigued brow upwards. “Oh, yeah?”

Shigaraki’s tongue slips out to wet his parched lips. “Yeah.”

“Mmh.. What a messy pup.”

Dabi coos, tracing the rim of your clit’s hood with his middle-finger. He has your nerves standing to attention every time the abrasive digit dabs against your stiff nub.

“Look how hard that little clitty is.” Shigaraki chuckles, toeing your pussy with the tip of his shoe, nudging Dabi’s marred knuckles in the process. “Could probably jerk it if you wanted to.”

“Yeah?” He tweaks the thin layer of skin surrounding the vulnerable dot, bending your thighs back further in the process. “Wanna’ try?” He swirls his tongue along the crevice of your ear, spitting into it as he croons.

“Please, let me g— Mmph!”

“Ah.” Your pleas are soon cut off by the wrinkled texture of Dabi’s palm. “I don’t wanna’ hear any cryin’ or whinging now, a’ight?”

Shigaraki sneers, squatting down to replace Dabi’s cold, stapled flesh with his own.

He pinches your clit between his crooked fingers, grinding and tweaking the tiny seed, while Dabi bounces you on his knee like a child to soothe your oncoming fit.

“See? this is what happens..” Shigaraki spits with a bitter smile. “This is what happens — when nosy little bitches like you can’t mind their own fuckin’ business.”

He pulls his arm back, tugging your tiny, quivering clit along with him until the stretched skin snaps back into place at the crest of your pudgy pussy.

Your raw cunt earns a sloppy, half-hearted spank from the hard heel of his hand, noticeably avoidant to catch you with his surely destructive finger-tips.

“Hey, woah, woah. Who said you get first dibs?” Dabi splutters, pressing your knees back together almost defensively once he sees the shimmering glare of Shigaraki’s belt buckle.

“I did.” Shigaraki grunts, clumsily rooting around inside the pouch of his stained boxers before pulling out the sluggish length of his pink-tipped cock. He’s flaccid, smooth layers of pale-porcelain skin wrinkled and folded against the chubby softness of his un-cut dick.

“You ain’t even hard yet, you shmuck.” Dabi sniggers, abiding his time by twiddling and flicking at your labia.

“Shut the fuck up. Just gimme’ a sec..”

“No way, I ain’t sittin’ here to watch you rub on your lil’ love-stick.” Dabi peers down at you through his leaden eyelashes. “We wanna’ have some fun, don’t we babe?” He smooshes the pudge of your cheeks, scrunching your lips into a pucker. He snorts, sticking his tongue out to engulf the cavity in a wet-hot kiss. “Mmh..” He swirls the leacherous muscle around and around your teeth, bobbing his head as though he was trying to suck out your soul like a dementor.

“Hey, knock it off. We’re not here to play house.” Shigaraki stutters through his raspy chokes, jabbing at his limply-hanging cock.

Dabi smiles as he retreats, smearing a muggy trail of saliva across your chin all the way to the tippy top of your nose, flicking off at the soft cartilage.

“Was just introducing myself, Boss.”

“You don’t need to introduce yourself.” Shigaraki bites.

“Awh..” Dabi coos. “Big bad villian can’t get his teeny weeny hard?”

He expects Shigaraki to explode into a feral ball of flames at this, only to be met with something much more mellow and.. down-right — timid.

“Do something..”

“What?”

Shigaraki clicks his tongue and huffs. “Do something.. Finger her or some shit..”

“Oh.”

Dabi’s struck dumb, but only for a short moment — before he’s bouncing back to his usual unperturbed and snarky demeanour.

“Well then.. let’s get down to business. What’re we feeling, you little rat? Twat or ass?”

You shiver in Dabi’s lap, the sporadic jolts of your spine spiking every-time the dewy humidity of his breath blows over your nape.

“Only kidding Babe.” Dabi smiles, a wide, wolfish, toothy grin, reaching no further than the dimples of his cheeks, half-lidded eyes set purely on the little patch of flesh below your navel. “I’m choosing.”

“Holy fuck!”

Shigaraki jerks his — now, fully erect cock. Striding up the sweaty length to halt just at the ridge of his pumped mushroom-tip, shiny with a sheen of smeared pre-cum. The tiny slip of pink peeks through his curled hand every time his fist bobs, fapping away at his chubbed up prick while his second set of fingers make themselves useful by rolling and fondling his tightened ball-sack.

“Yeah? You likin’ the show Boss-man?” Dabi’s nose crinkles from the force of his own boyish laughter, tapping your left ass-cheek for the 8th time, just to watch the squishy dough ripple around his stapled wrist.

The scrunched rim of your taught asshole barely has enough room to encompass all three of the fingers Dabi persistently tries to stuff in, shuffling and flexing the digits inside your gummy walls to engage you into a more flexible position.

“Fuck me, look at that butt.” He jerks his elbow forward, impaling you further on top of the jagged bumps of his torn knuckles.

“Ah!” It’s a guttural cry of pain that escapes your hoarse throat, bent at an angle with your stomach pressed across Dabi’s lap, consistently jouncing along his thigh at every attempted means of escape.

“Ooh, yeah.” Dabi croaks through his grit teeth, puffing from the back of his throat once he sees how the smooth curvature of your back arches as he prods at your asshole with a forth digit. “You bouncin’ that ass back for me?”

“Yeah she is, look at her.” Shigaraki can’t help but invite himself into the conversation, leaning back further against the porous red-bricks for support. “Stick her another one Dabi, I wanna’ see blood.”

“Another one? You want another one?”

“No!” You squeal.

“Yeah you do.”

Dabi hooks his left thumb around the puckered hole, stretching you open further to dig a fourth finger into the cramped space.

“Shit, yeah — I like that.” Shigaraki nods in approval as he pumps his massive dick, anchoring from his wrist to his shoulder as he squeezes his plump cock-head.

He thrusts himself off of the wall, waddling over to the scene with his jeans bandaging his thighs together.

“Uh oh.” Dabi mocks, almost giddy once he sees how frantic Shigaraki’s strokes become, huffing with humid cotton-balled clouds of steam.

“Mmh.. want..” He staggers, almost losing his balance before stationing his forearm next to Dabi’s streaked mane of ink. “Pussy.. lemme’ see her twat..”

Instead of directing your stance by your waist, Dabi deems it appropriate to use the hooked fingers clenched inside your back-pussy as a handle, pulling your little ass up into a painful arch by the tiny hole, almost tearing you through the middle on his metallic spikes in the process.

“She’s all yours.” Dabi hollers at his Boss.

“Shut your mouth, stupid cunt.”

A pair of grimy fingers slither down towards your puffed up folds, while a third taps away at your ticklish little clit. He’s no longer aiming the head of his dick at himself, but rather the penny-sized hole left unoccupied below your taint.

His hand drops in favour of clutching your stomach, clawing and grappling with the squidgy meat as he rubs his penis through the slicked up gash.

Dabi’s satisfied with just observing, perching his chin atop your shoulder to visualise how your tiny cunny is gonna take his Boss’s fat, steaming horse-cock.

“Agh! Mmh — Mmh — Shit!”

Or not..

He chooses not to mention the strings of semen shooting against the denim of his jeans, in favour of keeping his head.

Or the same blobs of pearlescent coating dribbling out of your fuckable pussy-hole, left to waste after being soiled by Shigaraki’s acerbic spunk.

Dabi makes no effort to move until he’s sure the low-hanging set of balls swinging against his knee have come to a slow waltz, rocking leisurely beneath Shigaraki’s girth.

“Was that good, you little freak?”

Shigaraki’s unsure if Dabi’s talking to you or him, uncaring enough to ask as he basks in the glowy state of his post-nut glory.

It’s surprising how long it takes for the two men to recognise the faint sniffling smudged into the leather of Dabi’s shoulder, opaque spots of crystalline tears seeping into the veined material.

Dabi juts his bottom lip out, mocking your timid warbling. “Awh, you made her cry Shiggy.”

Shigaraki rolls his eyes, swivelling as he stuffs his cock and balls back into the pocket of his ratty underwear.

“She’ll get over it.”

[enigmatist17]

Here I am after a 15+ year hiatus of a fandom I haven't written for since I was in high school lol

I figure the Bumblebee movie just follows the Bayverse, I'm not doing that stupid separate universe thing they did with Bumblebee/Rise of the Beasts

---

He had crashed on Earth's surface in 1990, battered and in a sorry state long before he hit the admittedly soft surface. Decepticons had intercepted the route sent out among the Autobots for a safe haven some millions of light years back, and honestly, he should have been much worse off after fighting and taking down three seekers.

Ah, the internal warnings screaming at him aside, it could have been worse.

After spending a solar-cycle taking care of the worst of his internal repairs, the newcomer to Earth headed toward a small town he'd flown over before impact, each step a chore to his battered frame that he could not wait to try and wash off. All momentum freezes when he comes across some sort of fenced-off area, filled to the brim with strange alt modes that were stacked with seemingly no organization to rust, something that tears at his processor as he scans the closest stack.

Ah, they were but shells...this he could work with.

The knowledge that these were not frames set up in some sort of gruesome mass grave helps him as he walks through the stacks, grumbling about most choices until something covered by stained cloth catches his optics. The shell underneath the cloth he carefully pulls off is a pleasing shade of dark navy, the narrow design pleasing enough that the battered shell is scanned moments later before the fabric is carefully placed back over it. Once he's out of the fenced-off area, it becomes clear his injuries chose to be ignored no longer, warnings popping up on his HUD display as his left leg suddenly buckles.

Well, how unfortunate.

Optics spot a lone building that could be a temporary safe haven, and with a beleaguered sigh, drags himself while his frame incorporates the alt mode he had scanned. The building seemed to be some sort of repair bay, tools he hadn't seen since fleeing Cybertron scattered about in quite ridiculous sizes, but he could think about that later as he let the familiar sensation of transforming into a new alt wash over, offlining in sheer relief.

---

There are tiny servos touching him, trying to get to his Spark chamber nononoNONO

There is a lot of screaming as he transforms, optics onlining despite the feeling of grogginess as the screaming thing moves away from the Cybertronian, which, thank Primus, lessens the grating on his audios. He still appears to be in the repair bay, his chronometer displaying he'd been offline for just over three solar-cycles, but the tiny creature hiding behind a table has most of his attention at the moment. It had stopped screaming by the time he'd gotten up and onto his pedes, left leg still weakened but stable enough to hold his weight, optics darting between himself and the door.

"I should warn you, you will not make it very far if you try to run." The being jumped at his voice, their optics widening in both shock and confusion as they froze, both beings in a small standoff.

"L-Look, uh, huge robot...thing, I don't know if you understand me or anything, but I'm not gonna hurt you." Despite the beings Spark, or whatever it was, increasing in tempo, it was doing its best to stare down the much taller being with a glare a certain medibot would have been impressed with. So, it appeared that it did not understand Cybertronian, deciding to break the silence by kneeling down and internally scanning the faint radio waves that seemed to cover this planet to download the language. Once satisfied, the mech leaned a bit closer to the being, who stood fast despite being clearly uncomfortable, and decided to try his hand at speaking once more.

"I doubt a being your size could harm me, but the sentiment is appreciated." The being blinked at the voice directed his way, before its face screwed up into something the Cybertronian could clearly distinguish as annoyance.

"...so the first alien I meet is kind of a dick? Typical."

"Typical? Have you met other Cybertronians then, or do you only shriek like a sparkling for your enjoyment?" The being stares at him before clapping a hand over its derma, trying to suppress a laugh, which it failed spectacularly at. "Ah, so it laughs."

"I'm not an it, I'm a he." The being crossed its arms when the laughter passed, eyeing him curiously. "My name is Raoul, and I'm what you call a human."

"Human? Interesting classification." The word is strange in his mouth, but he can think about it later. "My designation is Tracks, and I, as you heard an astro-klick ago, am Cybertronian."

"Tracks....huh." The human, Raoul, tilts his head, optics staring at Tracks with a strange intensity. "How were you a car a second ago? Better question, what the hell is an alien robot doing in my garage? And how come you didn't wake up until now?"

"Are all humans this...curious?" Tracks finally decided to fully sit down, his aching pede becoming almost too much to ignore as Raoul emerged from behind his table, still keeping a bit of distance from the large bot. "In answer, my trip to your planet was filled with more than a few hazards, and I merely came here to recharge before attempting repairs."

"Didn't answer my last question." Raoul clicked something within his mouth, grabbing a wrench before eyeing the Cybertronian. "Your left leg, still damaged right?"

"Indeed." Tracks slowly extended the taxed limb as Raoul approached him, exposing his plating to reveal the sore area, curious to see how the human might attempt the repair. "As to what awoke me, I felt you attempting to open my Spark chamber, something that was disconcerting, to say the least."

"Spark ch-oh! I was wondering what the hell I was lookin' at, sorry if I hurt you." Raoul winced, eyeing the damage with a frown. "Huh, for you being an alien and all, it's weird this just looks like a damaged rotor, which shouldn't be too hard to fix."

"If you have the parts, I can repair myself." Raoul paused for a moment before shrugging, stepping back, and eyeing a rack on the far side of the room.

"Mind if I watch? Not every day I get to talk to an alien...or any day, really." Tracks watched the human cross the repair bay, pulling out a crate filled with parts before rooting around. "So, were you always a Corvette?"

"What's a Corvette?" A quick scan through the information packets he'd scanned earlier brought up something called a car manufacturer, but Raoul could explain it in better terms. "If you speak of my alt, no, I scanned what was the best of the shells I came across to disguise myself."

"Uh, shells?" Raoul grinned when he found a suitable replacement, his eyes going wide for the dozenth time as he watched Tracks just pull out a part of his leg like it was a regular Tuesday. "U-uh...did that hurt? Do you need anything? Holy shit man, people don't just pull out body parts all willy-nilly!"

"Do you not replace broken parts?" Tracks gave him a strange look, Raoul holding up the part as he watched the bot slot it into his leg with ease, some sort of whirring noise filling the air before fading. "Ah, much better."

"Well, uh, no, we can't replace parts like that."

"That seems like a serious design flaw, how would you repair yourselves in the heat of battle? You have repair bays, I assume, like this one?" The human blinked as Tracks closed his plating, standing up and onto his pedes with minimal resistance. "You have my gratitude."

"No problem man." Raoul let out a whistle as he watched Tracks take a few steps, components clicking and whirring into place. "Wow...you are officially the coolest car I've ever worked on."

"And don't you forget it." If a robot could look haughty, head angled up with a smirk, Tracks nailed it, which made Raoul snort. "What?"

"Y'know, I always figured aliens were gonna be all super advanced and serene or somethin', it's what I've seen on tv and whatever. You? You're not like any of that, save for bein' a massive freaking robot, you act...well, kinda like a stuck-up human."

"Is that so?" Tracks tilted his helm as he walked over to Raoul, crouching down so they were mostly optic level. "Interesting thing to state when you've been aware of an entirely different race for less than a breem."

"Don't know what that means, but I'm a simple guy, and I call it as I see it." Raoul shrugged, grinning up at the mech. "So...I have to ask, you up for a drive? Might as well show you the sights if you're gonna be chillin' on Earth for a while, and since I've got the day off, it'll be perfect."

"You wish to show off my gorgeous alt do we?" Tracks chuckled, earning a scoff from the human. "I do say I can't blame you, I have always been quite the sight for sore optics."

"Huh, Cyber-whatever you are have big egos, who knew."

"Cybertronian." Tracks vented before transforming into his alt, popping his left door open. "I am also an Autobot, or...what remains of them. It would be wise to keep that little tidbit to yourself, in case the wrong person overhears."

"What do you mean?" Raoul wasn't sure what the inside of the robot would feel like for a split second, before remembering that he'd been climbing in and out of the damn thing up until he woke up, and slipped in behind the wheel. "Are you uh, Autobots, like a separate group or somethin'?"

"Something like that." The mechanic bit the inside of his cheek as Tracks started up almost silently, the wheel and pedals moving in synch as the mech headed toward the open garage door, only to immediately hit the brakes.

"Hey, what was that for?!" The mechanic grumbled, the robot not answering as he presumably stared past the door.

"I was unaware acid rain existed here." Tracks' tone was airy, but Raoul wasn't too dense to miss the uncertainty that laced his words.

"Acid- no, that's just rain." Raoul gingerly opened the door and stepped out of the robot, hearing a shocked hissing noise as he stepped out into the rain with a grin. "See? Perfectly harmless." He watched the Cybertronian transform, crouching by the garage door but keeping away from the falling water as he watched it drench the human.

"You'll have to forgive my hesitation, any rain I've come across tends to be lethal." Slowly, Tracks extended one digit on his non-dominant hand, expecting the familiar burn and warnings that usually lit up his HUD the few times he'd been trapped out in the damaging weather during the War. It...was quite cool to the touch, and a single digit was soon joined by the rest of his servo, the cool water pooling in his palm as Tracks observed the strange rain.

"What's the verdict?"

"It is quite pleasant, similar to a cold refresher." He hummed, crouching to carefully shift out of the garage to fully stand out in the rain. "Is your rain always like this?"

"No, sometimes it comes down so thick you can't see a foot in front of ya; other times it can be warm, depending on the weather. If this is new for ya, wait until winter and it snows."

"Snow?" Tracks tilted his helm briefly before transforming, popping open a door for the human. "Come on now."

"How generous." Raoul hurried into the car, blinking at the warm air within the cabin. "Oh sweet!"

"This should dry your frame, I do not want the water to pool inside of me." The mechanic had to bite back a snort as Tracks started up, turning onto the road with a soft purr. "Where to?"

"Let's start with showin' you around town, oh buddy of mine, and then we'll see where you want to go from there."

"As you wish."

Not the strangest day he's ever had on a new planet over the millennia, but it's definitely one of the better ones as he lets Raoul guide him around the town. Tracks isn't sure how long he'll stay before seeking out Optimus Prime and any other survivors, but as he listens to his human prattle on about something called breakdancing, it crosses his processor that a small break might be in order before returning to his duties.

No one had to know.

[wanderingblindly]

beloved liquid!! how about 19. for luck + 814?

ooooh what if it was established relationship and lando's gonna go Tell The Team? What then???? Click here to send me more prompts :)

On Risks in Love

Lando throws the car in park, letting his hands fall into his lap, leaning back against the headrest with closed eyes and a deep breath.

"It'll be fine," Oscar says from the passenger seat, but Lando can't bring himself to look. It feels like his stomach is about to churn itself inside out, and he's focused on breathing through it. "Lando, really –"

Sharper than he means it, "I'm fine, seriously."

Silence washes over them, not a soul wandering the MTC at this hour. They'd scheduled it this way on purpose – early Sunday morning, mid-summer break. The socials teams had done their bit, any admin employees are home for the week. It's just them, sat in Lando's car, and the slowly rising sun along the horizon.

"Sure you don't want me to come?" Oscar asks, voice softer this time. It makes Lando finally open his eyes, braving a glance; his brows are furrowed slightly, the way he gets when he doesn't know what to do.

In the flurry of emotions coursing through Lando's veins, it breaks him.

"Yeah," He says, but it's not convincing, even to him. Rather than attempt to continue, he scrunches his eyes back closed, resuming his deep breaths.

He has to do this alone. He knows that he does. He started this, he's the one that made the first move, he's the one that dragged Oscar into it. He's older, he's the… it's his team to lose, if all this goes –

Careful fingers ghost over his, Oscar's hand gently covering Lando's.

If it all goes –

"It's your team," Oscar whispers, like that solves everything. He says it like that's not the exact reason Lando's hands are clammy. It's his team, so where will he go, he wants to bite back, if this doesn't work?

Where would be go if he had to lose either of them?

His chest shakes on the inhale, but he doesn't try to hide it. There's no commentators dissecting him, no fans analyzing his posture. It's just Oscar, just Oscar waiting for Lando to get through it like he always gets through it.

"I'll be here the whole time," Oscar starts, comfortingly but firmly. His fingers try to slide between Lando's – working open the tight fist he'd formed. "Waiting for you." Lando opens his eyes as Oscar pries his fingers apart, too frozen to do anything but watch it happen. "And when you're done, once it goes well," He continues, lifting Lando's away from his lap, up into the space between them. "You'll come tell me about it, ok?"

Their eyes meet at Oscar's question.

"But what if it doesn't?" Lando's voice cracks, fragile as the morning-quiet.

He lifts Lando's hand closer to his face, like he's inspecting it; his fingers graze over Lando's nails, bitten raw and reddened. "When have you ever taken no for an answer?"

He'd laugh, maybe, in another situation.

"I'm –"

Oscar interrupts him silently, pressing a lingering kiss to the back of Lando's hand – holding Lando's eyes as he does. "For good luck," He murmurs against his skin, warm breath sinking into his bones, vibrations shooting up his arm. It's like that's all that exists, Oscar's lips grazing his hand; his mind stops, if not only for a moment.

He flips Lando's hand over and presses another, just as delicately, to the inside of his wrist.

"I –" Lando starts, words sticking in his chest as Oscar's eyes flutter closed, as he moves to press another kiss to Lando's rapidly heating skin. "I love you."

Oscar chuckles.

"Now go tell them that so we can go home, yeah?"

Lando can't help but smile, a little shell-shocked. "Yeah. Yeah, ok."

[yongislong]

tiktok prank + 127.

genre: illichil tries to open a jar that you glued shut! lol! fluff, crack, humor, nonidol!127 but its not specified, i hope my humor comes across through this...

cw/note: none but lmk! omg this request was so fun to do, ty anon and sorry it took so long! i've never done like... a typical reaction type of writing style before so it was kinda funny, these are a lot shorter than what i usually write, but yeah! send reqs if you have them! i will always get to them even if it takes me a minute. lmk if you want dreamies or wayv version! not proofread lol

taeil... i can't get it off. depends on the day actually, but i feel like he'd kinda give up LMAO. would be like mf i cant open it :-| or would probably get some pink rubber gloves to try and pull it off and it looks SO ridiculous that you have to break it to him that you glued it shut because you're convinced he's gonna break his hand before he even opens it. he is embarrassed LMFAO

johnny... there you go babe! the biggest dorkiest, most annoying smile on his face because he genuinely didn't notice anything different about the jar and you are... shell shocked. once you tell him you glued it shut his eyes almost pop out of his head because he actually didn't realize he was that strong... it kinda makes your head spin how innocent and cute he is about it, he knows how hot it was though

taeyong... GAHHHH. grunting loud as hell as he's gripping and twisting that thing for DEAR LIFE oh my god. his mom cooks so i'm sure he has some tips and tricks up his sleeve that'd he'd try and oh, oh boy, would he try all of them. eventually you have to tell him to stop after he lays down on the floor with various can openers, towels, rubber grippers, etc scattered all over the place, trying to catch his breath

yuta... silent smirk. he would struggle for a couple tries but gets a grip on it that pops it open. your eyes pop out of your head and you stumble over your words as he wordlessly smirks and hands you the jar back with a kiss to your temple. you chase after him and tell him the jar was glued shut and he literally won't stop flexing. would take this to the grave. when you watch superhero movies he always refers back to this moment and how he could beat them in any fight because cmon, he's the yuta nakamoto

doyoung... what the fuck. incoherent mumbles. is too prideful to give up and you almost want to not tell him simply because you just wanna let his stubbornness take over, its the funniest thing. he's sitting on the couch, laptop and phone open, both playing different videos on how to open jars that are too tight. eventually gets it open and it so cocky about it, he's pretty though so you allow his smile to get wider once you tell him you glued it shut

jaehyun... huffing an puffing. literally breathing so hard, you know he's strong so you're honestly shocked its so hard for him. he puffs out his cheeks as he presses his lips into a thin line, looking like that smiling bread meme lol. his dimples poke out sm. he eventually gets it open with a loud pop, pats you on the shoulder and asks you to never ask him to do anything for you again LMAO. you tell him the jar was actually glued shut and he feels a lot better about himself pft

jungwoo... confusion. would asses the situation LMFAO. literally so shocked like damn, what the fuck is this. asks you to forget whatever you were cooking because at this point its not worth it. flips and rotates the jar a thousand times to understand how something could be shut this tight. is convinced its a manufacturing error jdsjk. you tell him its glued shut and gets so ??? because damn it was a prank that backfired on you as well now and you have to eat buttered noodles for dinner!

mark... WOAH dude. shocked pikachu face. tries to open it through giggles but to be honest he gives me sweaty hand energy and he's so annoyed that the jar keeps slipping from his fingers but his reflexes are good so its ok. i have a feeling mark is hiding small yet insanely strong biceps under all his clothes so he gets it off once he wipes his hands on his shorts a couple times. tells you to not buy those brand of pickles again but kisses your temple as he leaves. you honestly don't tell him you glued it shut because you can tell how confused he is about the whole situation as he slightly tilts his head with a pensive face once hes sat at dinner

haechan... AHHGGHGHHAAAaaaa. squealing. screaming. his eyes are shut so hard. neck craned all the way back as he lets out all his frustrations. you tell him to shut up because you live in a complex lol. in the midst of all your playful arguing he pops the jar open and in the process spills half the bottle on your matching pj set. speechless for about 45 seconds. you both look at each other wide eyed as you finamly tell him shyly it was supposed to be a prank and he is fully straight faced LMFAO you both agree to never speak of this

[trashywormeateroffics]

bigger than the whole sky (natasha romanoff x gender neutral reader)

the gif is not mine!

summary: inspired by the song “bigger than the whole sky” by taylor swift. you navigate the world after losing natasha on vormir. (angst, angst, angst, with a little bit of hopefulness cause i’m me)

a/n: once again i am asking you to send me natasha requests!!!! love you!!!!

masterlist

\\\\

no words appear before me in the aftermath

you’re back.

“hey, where’s romanoff?” tony asks you. you look at him. your eyes are hollow, you don’t feel anything other than blinding pain.

everyone else gathers around you. they’re talking but their voices are merely an echo.

steve says your name. you look at him with quivering lips. that’s when he knows. you’re back but she isn’t.

salt streams out my eyes and into my ears

a knock is heard around your room. you don’t look up from the bed. you hear shuffling until a head peeks over you. it’s tony. he says your name, pity dripping from it.

“you should eat something. here,” he puts a tray on your nightstand, “i made you your favorite.” you don’t answer. he simply kisses your hair and leaves.

every single thing i touch becomes sick with sadness

you become a shell of a person. you barely eat, barely sleep, you just walk around the compound like a ghost that’s haunting it.

cause it’s all over now, all out to sea

it’s not until a month passes that it hits you. everyone is back, but she’s not. the firm ground you once walked on has been broken under your feet and the warmth you once felt is gone. tony told you he tried to bring her back when he snapped but he couldn’t. it wasn’t posible. the deal wasn’t interchangeable. he’s healing better than you would’ve expected, even though his right arm is almost useless, but he manages. they all do. steve is captain america, he needs to be strong for the people. thor is rebuilding his home, making it better. bruce is happier, he doesn’t feel like a monster anymore. the one that isn’t doing great is clint, but still, he has his family, so he mourns in silence, he hides. you once found him crying in the garden of the rebuilt compound, you tried to console him but words failed you. what could you have said? you were no better than him. you were a wounded animal, veiling your pain, trying to lick your own wounds but they were so bitter. you were so bitter.

goodbye, goodbye, goodbye. you were bigger than the whole sky, you were more than just a short time. and i’ve got a lot to pine about, i’ve got a lot to live without, i’m never gonna meet what could’ve been, would’ve been, what should’ve been you

the funeral isn’t until two months after it happens. there’s no body, so it’s a closed casket. you’re thankful for that, even though you feel guilty for it. you don’t think you could handle seeing her again. not like that.

everyone is crying. tony only invited the avengers, no one else. this is a private ceremony, it’s intimate. there’s a lot to mourn, a lot to cry about.

you stand up to the podium and clear your throat.

“natasha was a good person.” you begin. everyone is looking at you. you look at clint. he nods. “but she was also so goddamn stupid sometimes, so stubborn.” your eyes well up. you can feel it, they all can, you’re about to break. “she was the love of my life���” you trail off. you look at all these people. these people that loved her. that knew her. but no one knew her like you did. no one loved her like you. you say your goodbye in the way that everyone expected, calm, collected, the right amount of sadness, and then, before you know it, it’s done.

it’s two days later when you go back alone. you sit on the ground and touch the gravestone.

“yelena says she really likes the compound.” you smile softly. “she says it’s very cool, very future-y.” you chuckle. you know natasha loved her sister and she would find peace in knowing that she’s alright, that she’s being taken care of. you purse your lips to stop them from quivering. “i’m so mad at you natasha.” you tell the piece of stone. “i’m so goddamn mad at you.” your face scrunches up and tears begin falling from your eyes. “now we’re never going to live in a pretty house in a nice neighborhood and cook dinner every night together and laugh because the only thing you know how to cook is a peanut butter sandwich.” you chuckle through your tears. “why’d you leave me natty? we could’ve found another way- i know what you would say- there was no other way detka. but we would’ve made one. i would’ve done anything for you. now, even though you’re gone-“ a sob escapes you as you say the last word. “even now, everything i do is still for you.” you sniffle. “i do it with the hope that you’re somewhere seeing me. i need you to be somewhere nat, i need you.” winds blows on your face and you feel the tears dry up on your cheeks. “how am i gonna do this without you, huh? i’m a mess, i can barely do normal tasks. i just- i wanted to grow old with you.” you sob with your face in your hands. a while passes and sobs continue to wrack through your body in the silence of the cemetery. “and i’m never gonna see your old self. i’m never gonna meet what should’ve been you.” you have nothing else to say, so you sit in silence, caressing the tombstone. two hours pass until you decide to get up and leave. once in the compound, you head to the kitchen to grab some food and have a silent dinner in your room.

did some bird flap it’s wings over in asia? did some force take you because i didn’t pray?

grief is a complicated thing. you have always been familiar with the stages, yet since they’re happening to you you don’t really realize it.

today is a difficult day. you woke up and turned around to hug her but were quickly hit by reality when she wasn’t there for you to touch. you spent your whole morning crying. now, it’s early afternoon and you’re having something to eat in the compound’s kitchen.

“hey kid, how are you?” tony asks as he enters all sweaty, probably coming from the gym.

“hi.” you say to him. you don’t answer his question.

“how are you?” he asks again, more pointedly this time. you shrug. he says your name, almost pleading. “please talk to me. yell at me if you need to but- say something.”

“i have nothing to say.” he says your name again, firmly.

“you lost someone. hell, you didn’t just lose someone, you lost natasha. but-“ he runs his hands through his hair. “we all lost her, we can understand.”

“sorry tony, but i don’t think you can.” you tell him dryly. you know his intentions are good but he can’t really stand in front of you and say i get it. he does not. no one does. tony sighs.

“you know what? maybe you’re right.” you frown. what is he saying? “though someone might.”

“who? yelena? clint?” he rolls his eyes.

“no. a therapist.”

every single thing to come has turned into ashes. cause it’s all over, it’s not meant to be, so i’ll say words i don’t believe

turns out, tony was serious when he mentioned the therapist. you’re in her office now, sitting down and looking anywhere but at her. she says your name. you hum in response. she says your name again.

“look at me.” you do and swallow hard. “you don’t need to say anything if you don’t want to.” you smile bitterly.

“there’s nothing to say. even if i did want to say something.” you clarify. dr. lopez nods.

“do you want to have something to say?”

“i don’t… no.” you shake your head. “it’s not worth it.”

“why not?”

“nothing will be able to express what i feel.” you shrug. “and really, it’s just grief. nothing too shocking.”

“you know, just because you know it’s grief doesn’t make it easier to feel it.” you purse your lips. the therapist straightens up in her chair, almost as if she just had an idea. “what color is grief?” she asks. you frown.

“what?”

“tell me, when i say grief, what color do you see?”

“um…” you look down. a color? it couldn’t just be a color. it had to be more. “i don’t think-“

“just try.” she tells you.

“um… i guess… i guess white.”

“why?”

“because it’s… it’s not just the color, it’s like a white room, empty and with no end.” dr. lopez smiles briefly. you narrow your eyes. “that’s… that’s how i feel?” you ask her.

“you tell me.”

“i-“ you take a deep breath and shake your head. the therapist tilts her head. “can’t.” you simply say, choked up.

“i’m going to tell you something about myself.”

“you can do that?”

“if it helps my patient then yes, i can.” you purse your lips and nod. “when i was eighteen, my best friend and i got into a car accident.” you look at her. “she died.” you swallow. “for a year i didn’t talk about it. didn’t even say her name. you know why?” you shake your head even though you have your suspicions. “because talking about it would make it real. and if it was real then i was going to feel a lot of pain, pain i wasn’t sure i could handle feeling.” you shake your head.

“no, i- i get where you’re going with this but i know i can’t handle that pain. i’ll die.”

“do you really think that?”

“if i don’t i’ll kill myself.” you tell her. she looks at you. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

“you don’t need to apologize for grieving.” you look at her. then you look down, your hands are shaking. you look up again with scrunched up eyebrows.

“is that what this is?” you ask her, a tear falling from your eye. she cocks her head to the side, waiting for you to explain. “it doesn’t- it doesn’t feel like grief. it feels as if someone is constantly squeezing my heart.” tears are now falling freely down your cheeks. you try to wipe them away but they’re too many. “and the worst part is i don’t want to get over it. i want to keep feeling it, it’s all i have left of her.” dr lopez says your name and you look at her through blurry eyes.

“that’s actually really beautiful. grief is love. it’s all the love we can’t give them.”

“i don’t want it. it shouldn’t- it’s not fair.” you sob.

“it isn’t.” she tells you. “and that’s the thing about grief. you say it shouldn’t be like this but grief fights you and tells you well, it is. that’s why it’s so hard.” you blink, sniffle and shrug.

“i’m still never going to get over it.”

“you probably won’t.” she tells you. you look at her.

“aren’t you supposed to tell me that everything is going to be fine?”

“well, everything is going to be fine. that doesn’t mean that you’ll get over it.” you frown. she smiles softly. “a loss like this one, it’s more like you learn to live with it. you don’t necessarily get over it. but you do feel better, and you find hope.” hope. you found hope already. it was her. the doctor seems to read your mind because she gestures to you with her head. “why don’t you tell me about her?” you look at her and furrow your brows.

“i- she… she was….” you sigh.

“it’s okay, you know what? why don’t i ask you?”

“okay.”

“what was her favorite color?” you smile softly.

“yellow. she said it reminded her of sunflowers, her favorite.” you chuckle.

“what is it?” she asks.

“after i found out i kind of started giving her a sunflower every day… to remind her that- that they were her favorite thing and… and she was mine.” you purse your lips to stop them from quivering. you’re once again on the verge of crying. ugh.

“that’s really romantic.”

“yeah well, we weren’t together at the time i was just obsessed with her.” you laugh through your tears. “after we got together she would always make fun of me for it. but i knew she secretly loved it.” dr lopez smiles.

“and what did you like most about her?”

“oh i- i can’t choose. she was just- perfect. but i think her heart- yeah, her heart was just so good. i don’t think i’ve ever met someone who cared so much about others like her.” you say. then you grin. “she was also terrified of cockroaches. like, she was the most badass person ever but if she saw a cockroach she would lose it.” you laugh and so does the therapist. then, suddenly, you begin sobbing. heart-wrenching sobs escape you as you cover your face with your hands. “i’m so- so sorry.” you tell her. “i just- what i’m feeling i want to tell her. she would be the one to console me and now i need something else to make me feel better because she’s gone. i can’t believe that she- it should’ve been me.” dr lopez says your name firmly.

“she made her choice.”

“no! she was just a better fighter than me! i could’ve been the one to jump and she would still be here.”

“but would you want her to feel the pain you’re feeling now?” you look up at her, shocked. you had never thought of that.

“i- of course not. but i just- she deserved to live a long, beautiful life. she deserved it more than me.”

“i know you feel like that, but that’s not true.” she tells you. “what you truly deserved, both of you, was to live a long, beautiful life together. but because of circumstance, you can’t. but you can still live that life.”

“i don’t want to! i don’t want to live a life without her!”

“then, at least, live it for her.”

you leave the session feeling something strange in your chest. realization perhaps. an epiphany of some sorts. she would want you to live this life fully. even though she’s not here, you know she wouldn’t want to see you broken like you are now. and you think, maybe i’ll do this one last act of love for her.

that night, you have dinner with the rest of the team. wanda is there, and you realize that you haven’t asked her how she is.

“hey, wanda.” you call after her before she leaves. “could i talk to you for a second?”

“yes.” she tells you. you two walk over to the balcony and sit down.

“i never asked you, how are you?” she looks at you with a questioning gaze.

“i’m…” she trails off.

“i’m sorry about vision.” you tell her. she looks at you.

“i’m sorry about natasha.”

“thank you.” you say. for a bit you’re both silent. until you speak up. “i wish there was a way for us to tell them that we won, that it wasn’t for nothing.”

“they know.” she says. you swallow hard and look at her.

“you think so?”

“yeah.” she smiles softly.

“how do you… keep living life?” you ask her. she tilts her head at you. “i mean like… how do you keep going forward without him?”

“vis once told me: what is grief if not love persevering?” you sniffle. wanda looks at you and puts a hand on your shoulder. “he was right. it is.”

“where do you put that love?” you ask her, crying now.

“you keep it inside you, and you use it to never forget them.”

you end up the chat by hugging, where in the middle of it you tell her that you’re grateful to have her as a friend, and she says the same thing.

goodbye, goodbye, goodbye. you were bigger than the whole sky, you were more than just a short time. and i’ve got a lot to pine about, i’ve got a lot to live without, i’m never gonna meet what could’ve been, would’ve been, what should’ve been you

the first time you feel it you’re training with wanda and bucky. wanda makes him fall with his magic and you laugh. for the first time since she’s been gone you laugh an honest laugh. you’ve been going to therapy for a month now and it’s helping. it doesn’t replace her, nothing ever will. but it helps with the anxiety and the soul crushing pain.

you miss her, everyday you miss her more and more. they say that time heals, but as of now, time is making you need her more than ever. still, you laughed.

“that’s not fair, you punk!” bucky yells and wanda laughs.

“it’s called being strategic.” she tells him.

“it’s called cheating.” he tells her matter-of-factly. then he turns to you. “what do you think?”

“um…” you say. he raises his eyebrows. “i think it’s called being strategic.” you shrug.

“you two punks are siding with each other? fine! see if i care.” you and wanda look at each other and you both burst out laughing. shortly after, bucky joins in too. you’re laughing with them, you’re laughing with them and suddenly the world doesn’t seem so heavy on your shoulders. you are still in a lot of pain, you are still mourning, and honestly, you don’t think you will ever stop. but you’re laughing wholeheartedly, and that’s when you feel it. perhaps you will get better. perhaps, you just found hope.

[little-fics]

Bee

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Stucky x Reader; platonic!uncle!Tony

Summary: Reader is teetering the edge of a slip when her buddies Sam and Clint are mean to her, daddy stucky to the rescue

Warnings: age regression, scary bees, bottle, pacifier, anxiety, a little violence, angry!Steve (not at you), mean!sam and mean!clint, I may have missed some, read at your own risk

Word count: 2.2K

A/N: I had fun with this one! I hope you like it!

Disclaimer for my blog!

Life with Bucky and Steve was great, you'd officially been together for about a year, and they'd been your daddies about half that time. You didn't always regress, just when the world got a little too big and you needed to leave it all behind. The avengers didn't know about your coping mechanism, at your own request, save for Tony who has programmed Friday to detect when you're little and were about to do something that babies shouldn't do, such as cooking or showering because babies makes messes and get hurt. It was something you'd kept private and to yourself for a long time, and it took months to feel comfortable enough to talk with Steve and Bucky about it. You weren't always feeling little, and had the capability of being a very vital part to the team, but on your days off, it was easy to find yourself slipping into that headspace.

That's how you got to sitting on the balcony, slowly slipping into that headspace after a difficult mission. You'd woken up between Steve and Bucky, crawling out of the bed quietly, not quite feeling small but you know it's coming. Clint and Sam find you outside, sunbathing and staring at the clouds. Sam is the first one to come outside, Clint following close behind.

"Mornin' sunshine," Sam sits next to you, Clint moving to the other side of you, relaxing in his seat, Sam holding out a glass to you, "want some lemonade? I know that coffee makes you jittery on your days off." You take the glass, smiling at the yellow straw poking up from the top, "Thank you! And a straw!" You twiddle with it gently, pulling it out to take a sip. "Gosh," your shoulders sag and your head leans back in ecstasy, "Clint's lemonade is the best, thank you." Clint pointedly looks at Sam, smug, "Why thank you Y/n, I'm blushing." Sam scoffs, "You wouldn't have even made it if I didn't beg!" Clint shrugs, "I made food," he looks to you, "speaking of," he has you a plate with a sausage and egg biscuit. You tentatively take it from him, "Oh thank you, are you sure?" Clint laughs, leaning back in his seat, "Yeah, honey, me and Sam already had some."

Once you finish your biscuit, you're back to staring at the pretty sky, sipping on your lemonade listening to Sam and Clint bicker back and forth. A bee comes out of nowhere, eliciting a small yelp from you and you're quickly standing from your seat. They're laughing, which hurt your feelings, the fear of the bee causing you to slip fully. You try to go inside but hear Sam speak to the AI, "Friday, lock patio doors under code Falcon," before you make it to the door. When you pull on it the door won't budge. "Sam," your voice is meek, "that's not funny," you whine and shake the door again, getting nervous over the buzzing around your lemonade on the table. "Friday, open the door." Clint laughs again, "It's just a bee, you've been shot before and you can't handle a bee?" A tear slips down your face, and you feel your heartbeat pick up.

You shake on the door, trying to get away from your mean friends, wiping a tear away, "Open the door Sam." He's laughing, he thinks this is funny, "It's just a bee, it'll be gone in a minute Y/n, it's fine." You shake the door more violently, and it's clear Sam wasn't going to open the door. You bring your hand to the bracelet that lays around your wrist, a fail safe if something is wrong, to immediately notify Steve and Bucky that you need them. You find the tiny sun charm, pressing the tiny button that notifies your daddies of your state of mind and that you're in trouble, different from the other charm, a moon, who notifies your boyfriends of an emergency.

Bucky is the first one to hear Friday, "Mr. Barnes, Mr. Rogers," he groans groggily, "Friday, it's too early for this, what is it?" Bucky reaches over to find just Steve, no tiny baby to love on as he hears Friday once more, "I am sorry Mr. Barnes, but it seems munchkin has requested your presence with signs of distress." Bucky's eyes snap open at the use of the programmed name for when you're in your little space, throwing the covers off and slapping Steve's shoulder. "Bucky, what the-" Steve stops when he realizes that Bucky is already out the door, he's quickly behind him, not bothering to put a shirt on, as Bucky hadn't.

"Friday, where is munchkin?" Bucky spits, FRIDAY speaking up once more, "Munchkin is on the patio with Mr. Wilson and Mr. Barton." Their brows crunch together in confusion, Steve finally speaking up on their way to the patio, sleep still heavy in his voice, "Is something wrong?" Bucky shrugs nervously, "Friday said she was showing signs of distress." The system speaks up once more, "That is correct. Munchkin's heart rate seems to be elevated and she is showing signs of high stress. She notified me by her emergency contact Sun Ray." At this, Bucky and Steve speed up, trying to get to you as quickly as possible.

The bee is still there, attracted not only to the lemonade, but the brightly colored pajamas keeping its attention as it flies back and forth between you and the lemonade. When it flies towards you, you hide in the corner of the patio, screaming, running to the other corner to hide from it when it follows you, a tear streaking down your face. Sam sees the stray tear, immediately his stomach sinking while you're piddling with your bracelet, ignoring the tears on your face, not hearing Sam when he stands and calls out gently, "Friday unlock the doors." Sam's in front of you, "Let's go inside, come on." When he reaches for you, you flinch back from him, causing his heart to break a little. You're now frantically pushing the button on your charm.

"Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes, munchkin has sent a distress call 13 times, up to 17, 23," and then they're at the doors to the patio, slinging them open.

Bucky takes in your appearance, you look afraid, tears freely streaming down your face, now surrounded by Clint and Sam, who are violently moved by Bucky. He's lifting you by your thighs, bringing them around his waist, glaring at Sam and Clint before carrying you inside. When you're back inside, feeling the rush of AC, you let loose, heavy thick tears falling with sobs. "Shhh my little bunny, I've got you."

Steve remains on the porch, staring at a shell shocked Sam and Clint, "What happened?" They shrug, "It was just a bee, we didn't know it would scare her so bad." Steve rolls his eyes at the men, following Bucky back to your room. When he gets there, you're straddling Bucky on the bed, hands tucked under you, fists balled up tightly, hiccuping sobs. "'S mean," Bucky is rubbing your back, shushing softly while you try to explain what happened, "wouldn't let me 'nside daddy, I try." More sobs erupt from you, Steve's brow furrowing, wondering what you meant.

"Friday, show me what happened with munchkin on the patio before Sun Ray was activated." He watches as the TV screen starts playing the scene, fury creeping up in his bones, while Bucky continued to console you, but matching the fire Steve has in his eyes. Steve saunters out of the room when the TV shuts off, heading straight for Sam and Clint. Bucky holds you closer when you whimper, "Oh doll, dada will be right back, he's just gonna go get you something to drink." You continue to sob, you refused to take your pacifier, dropping it out of your mouth every time he tried to put it in, sobs not allowing it to stay. "Baby baby baby, you're okay, that little bee isn't gonna getcha in here, only daddy." He tries to tickle you, but you just sob louder. He's thankful for the soundproof walls, knowing you don't like to draw attention.

Steve finds Sam and Clint in the common room with Nat and Tony. Tony stands when he sees Steve, anger on his face still shirtless. Steve comes up from behind Sam and Clint, grabbing their shirts roughly, pulling them up and off the couch, feet dangling a foot above the floor, turning them to face him. They're shouting, trying to get Steve to let go. Tony is trying to pull Sam away from him, Nat trying to hit his weak spots so he will drop Clint but he doesn't budge.

"Did you think it was funny?" Steve spits, bringing his face closer to theirs, "Did you? You think it was funny when she cried? Think it was funny when she screamed and pulled on the door? How would you feel huh? If someone laughed at you because you were scared? If your friends laughed at you?" Tony and Nat are confused, "Steve calm down, what happened?" Steve scowls, overpowering the men easily as he turns them around, still holding them in the air. "Friday, pull up the patio clip and my bedroom feed on the common room television."

"Voice identification confirmed. One moment." The video starts playing, but all they can hear are your sobs, not able to hear the small consoling your daddy is trying or the talk from the patio clip as it plays. "Is it still funny bird boy? Is it still funny when you know you're the reason she's like this? No? Good." Steve throws them down on the couch, Tony is furious, Nat is scolding them, and Steve's on his way into the kitchen.

Tony follows Steve after shutting off the video feed, Nat still scolding the two perpetrators. Steve is piddling around, heating up some milk in the microwave. "You okay man?" Tony asks, placing a hand on his back, when Steve glares at him Tony sighs. "Man you can't go back to her seething like this." Steve lets out a huff, "I've never wanted to throttle someone like I do right now." He grabs the milk from the microwave, mixing some hot chocolate power in it, something that frequently happens when you're having a very bad day. Tony hands Steve a bottle, hidden in a thin cabinet, only unlocked by four people in the tower; Uncle Tony, your daddies, and you. "She's your baby, and she hasn't stopped crying because her buddies were mean to her and she doesn't understand, if you go in there angry, she will think you're mad at her." Tony chides, Steve, resonating with Tony's words, takes a deep breath, filling up your bottle and continuing to shake it. "Want me to come cheer her up with you?" Steve sighs, "Let us calm her down a bit, get her feeling right and we'll play some games later yeah?" Tony starts to rummage through the fridge, "Have Friday notify me." Steve nods, leaving Tony and going back to his baby.

When he opens the door, you're still crying, but when Steve sits he pulls you into his lap, holding you like a baby and rocking you. "Shhh, it's okay baby, I know they were mean, but papa's here now. It's okay," he's rubbing your face gently, your sobs turned to weak whimpers. "That's it baby, you want some milk?" You nuzzle into his chest, Bucky taking a sip of the bottle making sure it's not too hot and gives it back to Steve. He holds the tip to your lips, you instantly wrap your lips around it and hum happily.

"There she is, sweet girl," his fingers tangle in your hair, massaging your scalp gently while Bucky rubs your legs with a feather light touch. You hiccup on the milk, Steve moving it away from you and wiping away a stray tear. Your fingers clutch around his shoulder, whining, "Papa." He coos at you, "Drinking too fast aren't we love?" You let out another whine, your bottom lip wobbling, "Pease papa." He traces your jawline before bringing the bottle back to your lips, "Slower, you hear me dove?" You nod gently, closing your eyes and continuing to drink the bottle.

You're teetering on the edge of sleep, Steve wiping away a drop of milk that finds its way to the corner of your mouth. He takes the bottle very carefully, stopping when you suck on it a little harder, trying to hold it in your mouth. "Bunny," Bucky's voice sings to you, "let daddy have that, okay?" Steve tries to pull it away again, this time with no fight, Bucky pressing your pacifier to your lips, which you take happily. He clips it to the top of your pajama shirt so if you drop it, it'll stay relatively within reach. "Friday, put on munchkins lullaby playlist."

Soft music starts playing through the room, bringing you all the way under, soft snores against Steves chest alerting them to your slumber. "Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes, Mr. Wilson and Mr. Barton are outside, requesting entrance." Bucky rolls his eyes as he slides back down into the bed, "Friday, decline entrance and leave us be to nap for an hour." Steve moves you to Bucky, your sleeping form habitually wrapping around him and his warmth. Steve huddles behind you, wrapping his arm over you and resting it on Bucky, rubbing small circles. "She's gonna be a handful today," Steve comments, letting Bucky know that he thinks today is going to be one of those days where you regress further than usual. "She's gonna have such a good time with Tony." Bucky laughs, his eyes flutter shut, "Don't count her daddies short."

[usagis-tsukinos]

Tag, You're It

Read, Comment, or Kudo on Ao3!

Pairing: Lucifer x F!Reader

Rating: M/18+

Warnings: Hide and Seek, Begging, Dom Lucifer, Dom/Sub, Lucifer is like the Big Bad Wolf, Chasing, Closet Sex, Lucifer Calls Himself Daddy, Light Daddy Kink, Grace Play

Words: 2,782

Lucifer wants to play a game.

“You’re so small, you know that?” He mused softly as she sat at the table in the library. “It’s amazing how many monsters you’ve killed, I would never have guessed you’d be so feisty.” Her head perched up from the book she was reading, top teeth chewing on her lower lip as she attempted to create a coherent reply.

“Are you trying to insult me?” She asked, the pencil almost snapping in half with the pressure she placed on it to keep control.

Lucifer stopped his pacing around the table to grab a chair and sit in it backwards.

“You think I’m insulting you?” His eyes almost flashed at the mere idea of offending her. Yes, he’d tease but he’d never outright insult unless provoked. Her response was an eye roll. She’d been babysitting the actual Devil for four days now and it just keeps getting worse. Anytime she’d make food he’d move it, completely change it to something she hated; he’d hide her clothes or change the size so they were too small; just this morning he hid all the towels as she got out the shower, including her robe so she had to hide in the bathroom and yell for him to cut the crap and give her stuff back so she could start her day, damn it.

Eventually he conceded, on the condition she stop watching him like a hawk. She refused, of course. But now, in the almost silent library with the only sound being her handwriting on paper, the air felt thick.

Almost suffocating.

“You seem tense,” he stated.

“And you seem annoying.” Was her quick reply.

Lucifer gave a small chuckle at that, she was so fun to poke and prod at. He was almost tempted to use his grace on her, just to tease her and gage her reaction. Standing to his full height, he walked behind her, placing his arms on both her sides. He could hear her heartbeat fastening and could sense her body heating up at the mere closeness. Lifting a hand, he slowly maneuvered it up her right arm before find its way into her hair.

She did her best to not give him a reaction, trying so hard to focus on her research as his dull nails gently scratched her scalp. Slowly his left hand reached up to the side of her neck, gently cupping her throat as he leaned down to sniff her hair, noticing the way her breathing hitched and pulse raced, her eyelids fluttering.

He moaned softly as he inhaled her shampoo, moving towards her ear.

“I can’t wait to break you.”

Lucifer’s forked tongue gently licked the shell, his grip tightening on her throat before he turned her around and once again stood at full height. He gave a smirk, “Tell me,” his hands went back to his pockets before he crouched to his knees in front of her, “what exactly would a girl like you be into?”

Her head was swimming in subspace already, as much as she tried to fight it. Her hands gripped the arms of the chair as she tried to remain calm. “I don’t need to tell you that,” she spat. She shook her head softly, trying to keep her thoughts as clean a slate as possible if he was gonna try digging for fun.

All he could do was smile at her resilience, this made it so much more fun; watching her fight her desire as he broke down each one of her defenses with just the smallest push. His large hands went to her knees, and as much as she tried to keep her legs closed he had no problem ripping them open so he could see up her skirt. “Oh, you poor little thing,” he mocked, placing his head between her legs before she could even try to push him away, his teeth gently pressing on her clothed clit.

Her gasp and grasp on his hair merely stirred him on as she tried to pull him away, tried to move as his hands once again found themselves holding her in place.

“Lucifer, please, don—“ a hum caused her to squeal as she continued to try and fight him, her face stained in blush and her pussy so wet she was embarrassed by just how aroused she was. He was barely even doing anything, licking around her clothed clit gently as he placed open mouth kisses against her wetness and licking the wet spot forming.

“You’re such a bad little girl,” he murmured. “Whatever shall I do with you?” Tears formed at the corner of her eyes as he tortured her swollen clit with gentle caresses. Before she could even process she found herself straddling his face with his hands wrapped around her wrists so she couldn’t move. Against her will she found herself grinding against his tongue and teeth, desperately attempting to find her high as he growled against her, tightening his grip on her small wrists as she’d fight him trying so hard to break free.

“Oh, that’s right, little one,” he could be heard from under her skirt from where he laid on the library floor. “Cum on daddy’s face, come on.” He continued to work at her, her moans echoing throughout he sucked harshly on her clit. Lucifer’s hands wrapped themselves against her thighs so that normally, a human would be gasping for air but this was an angel— the Devil— and he was gonna make her cum no matter what.

“Lucifer, please-“

“Oh, I love hearing you beg.”

“I’m gonna cum, I can’t take it, it’s too much—“

“Too bad.”

And with that he firmly ground her pussy into his face and growled, sending vibrations and waves of pleasure throughout her body and she let out a sob-like moan, desperately trying to lift her hips as he eagerly and hungrily lapped up her juices. Lucifer laid her down on the floor and pinned her wrists, watching the aftershock of her orgasm with a self-satisfied smirk. He hummed softly before grinding his hard cock against her swollen, still clothed pussy that was just oh so sensitive.

“Oh, my, Princess,” the nickname sliding off his tongue as she squirmed against his body. “You really are a fighter.” He watched her glazed eyes, eyeing her expression as he started to hump against her, his cock still in his jeans as he let out a low groan. She let out a whine as he rubbed himself against her core.

“I can’t believe how wet you are, just for me? You like my big, strong hands holding you down against your will? You like my body pressing into yours and making it so you can’t escape?” His hips moved fast against her as he spoke against her lips, her head moving away as if to hide but he used his grace to keep her wrists down and one hand went to her throat and the other to grip her face.

“You like me taking you.” Lucifer smiled, she could deny it all she wants but her body accepted him like it was nothing. “You like me making you moan and whimper,” another moan escaped his lips but he could do this all day. Her body thrashed under his pathetically, her legs trying so hard to escape as he sucked a nice, big hickey into her neck with a noticeable bite mark causing her to whine loudly at the contact. He let out a deep, dark moan that caused her to echo it as his eyes closed before opening and flashing red.

“Would you let to play a game, little one?” Lucifer whispered, edging her closer to her second orgasm faster than she’d realized as he halted his movements, smirking as she whined at the loss of contact.

“Game…?” She stuttered, now moving in desperation for him to continue.

He loved watching her fight back and forth on what she wanted and knew she’d willingly submit eventually. He hummed in response, taking in her messy makeup and hair, the way her clothes seemed to cling to her more now that she was completely aroused and at his mercy. Moving down to her ear once more, the closeness making her moan unintentionally as he couldn’t help but chuckle at her reaction.

“I’m going to let you go,” a short breathe was released beneath him. “And I want you to try and hide from me, run as fast as those legs can carry you and if I catch you..” He knew he would, “I’m going to ravage you like the little fucking slut you are.”

And with that, she scrambled from the floor, running as fast as she could as he gave her a head start, walking behind her at his normal pace. Her footsteps could be heard echoing throughout the bunker as she tried to find anywhere to hide.

“Where are you, little girl?” Lucifer sang, his usual smirk plastered to his face. He knew exactly where she was, but she didn’t need to know that just yet. “You don’t want to play with daddy anymore? Is that why you’re hiding?” From where she stood in a closet, her heart beating so fast it felt like it was gonna jump out of her chest, she bit her lip at the nicknames. He had to stop or he was gonna find her quicker than anticipated. She wondered how much of his powers he was using or if he was just getting lucky.

His footsteps got closer, his hand jiggling the clearly unlocked door of the room she was hiding in. “Little pig, little pig,” long legs strolled towards the bathroom. “Let me in, little pig.” She covered her mouth with both hands as he got closer. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be…” Lucifer continued to sing as he reached the closet door.

“Are you in there? I can certainly smell you,” she mentally cursed the arousal and orgasm running down her thighs as she tried to back further into the closet with no avail. Suddenly, everything went silent, all that could be heard was quiet breathing she couldn’t even see the shadow of his footsteps underneath the doorway. He couldn’t have left, that’d be too easy. She slowly inched towards the door, doing her best to be silent as she reached for the handle and

“Boo.”

Her right hand flew from her mouth as she jumped, nearly hitting him as she gasped loudly. His eyes glowed red through the darkness, her body pressed against the doorway as she desperately searched for the doorknob to escape. Lucifer firmly pressed himself against her, trapping her small frame underneath him once again.

“Look at what I caught,” his knee shoved her legs open again and he pressed his thigh right against her soaked panties. The Devil trailed his nose from her collarbone to her ear, inhaling her scent once again. “A little girl who likes to play with big, scary things; and now you’ve been caught with nowhere to go.” He moved to her other ear, continuing to whisper, “I think you like that I could kill you. How about your demons play with mine now?”

Lucifer waited for her reaction, pleased when he felt her body shiver and her aching cunt twitch against him.

“How often have you thought about me like this?” He asked, knowing the answer. He’d seen every thought she had of him, good and bad, every fantasy and he was determined to make it happen. Ghosting his lips against hers once again, teasing and watching her chase after him as he moved from her reach. It was like she was drunk, breathing him in as he was her. Her mind was so wrapped up in subspace and he thought it was just delicious. His large hands cupped her face, continuing to tease her as his glowing eyes stared at her closed ones before finally, finally closing the distance and pressing his lips against hers in a possessive manner, his forked tongue forcing its way into her mouth as he swallowed her moans.

Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. It was all he could think, his clothed erection squished against her belly before he wrapped her legs around his waist, a hand going to her hair and the other to her throat once again as his grace pinned her her wrists to the door. As she opened her eyes again to stare in awe, his sharp teeth bit her lower lip as she once again tried to squirm, this time in impatience and anticipation rather than trying to escape, even if it was for fun. Her mouth hung open and all she muster was, “all the better to embrace you with, my dear.” She didn’t even realize she’d said it as Lucifer growled against her, echoing her secret thoughts about his hands, his grip tightening around her throat. It was like he was the big bad wolf and he was going to devour her. His eyes bore into her soul, his cock free in an instant as he pushed her panties to the side.

He didn’t even give her time to think before he shoved himself inside, his hips bruising against her. Even if the Winchesters were home, he’d want her to be loud. To have them hear everything he was doing to her. She didn’t last long, but that wasn’t gonna stop him. His large hand left her throat, moving to her hip as he slammed into her. She continued to chant his name in prayer and his ego was bigger than ever. He was making her feel like this, he had his cock inside her and she was so, so wet for him. He knew she couldn’t think about anyone else if she tried and that spurred him on faster.

“My slut, my human.” At the rate he was going, the door should’ve collapsed at this point. She whined as he did what he wanted, taking what he wanted.

“D-“

“What?” He asked, his tone condescending. “‘Don’t stop’? ‘Don’t stop, Lucifer, I’m gonna cum’?” His put on his best whiny voice, mocking her, as the tears started to form and fall from her eyes as she struggled.

“Daddy,” she choked out, and his hips stopped inside her. His eyes glued themselves to hers as his quietly watched the panic rise in her eyes.

“What was that?” He whispered, the small light from the other room illuminating his face a bit, his expression neutral.

“I-I’m sorry, Luci-“ she tried to move again, but the hand on her hip grabbed her face.

“What did you just call me.” He repeated, she let out a short breath as the tears started to fall again. His tone was firm, and she was so close to her third or fourth orgasm at this point. Yeah, he’d call himself daddy earlier, but that was to tease her. It was much different hearing it from her own lips.

“D-daddy.” She swallowed, now more aroused than terrified that she’d angered him.

Lucifer barked out a laugh, continuing his harsh pace once again as her legs began to move from his waist. “Oh, you dirty fucking whore!” He watched her intently, very much enjoying her submission. Her face was red and her body was covered in bruises due to him, and she liked it. His thrusts moved from sharp and quick to deep as he continued to mock her. “You humans surprise me every day, you especially! To think! You enjoy being humiliated and abused! By me!”

The idea sent him soaring as she clenched around him once again. The idea thrilled him as she broke down, continuing to plead to him as he thought of all the ways she could worship him, and was going to worship him, after this.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” he chuckled softly. “Let me hear that pretty voice, tell Daddy what you want.” While as amused as he was, he couldn’t help but groan at the name, the feelings it brought over him. He was already possessive but this, this was something darker.

“Are you gonna cum on Daddy’s cock again, little girl? Hm?” She nodded, quickly answering with, “yes, sir!” wanting so badly to touch him as she came for a final time, his hips finally giving out as he came inside her. Lucifer groaned loudly as he spilled himself inside her, calling her name as he pulled out and some of his seed began to spill. Her vision was hazy as he let her go from her invisible restraints, holding her to him on the floor.

“Oh, I knew playing with you was going to be so much fun.”

[autumn-sweet-fae]

Going off of an anon question about “what if they have to stop because one of their pokemon gets sick/injured” you said it would be pretty unlikely for them to get caught like that because they are constantly foraging and making different items with the skills they learned in Hisui. But I kinda had an idea for why they might have to interact with the public, what if one of Lady Sneasler’s eggs hatched prematurely? This might be ooc because you said that the eggs would probably hatch only when Sneasler finds herself a den, but I think it would be a really cool idea for why Ingo and Araki have to come out of hiding. Maybe during the egg stealing incident one of the eggs is injured, not enough for it to be noticeable but enough for the shell to weaken and eventually hatch way before it was meant to. Or maybe the egg just hatched early on it’s own. Either way because the sneasel is born so prematurely it would die without any medical attention, and because neither Ingo nor Araki had to deal with this situation before they decide to they need to seek help in order to save the sneasel’s life. Ingo, being Lady Sneasler’s warden, is the first to decide to risk it to save his noble’s child, and whether or not Araki stays behind to keep the rest of the eggs safe or decides to go with Ingo, it still means that at least he is going to need to stick his neck out to get help. You can completely ignore this if it doesn’t fit within your story but I think it would be an interesting reason why they need to reveal themselves to the public again after basically giving up on trying to reason with them

Ooo this is GREAT! ok, so there was a hot minute there were I was considering that once they get the Eggs back Sneaseler was gonna open the basket and find one to be missing. But I decided that was too mean and that it messed up the other things I was planning. But! To have an egg that was possibly dropped by the idiot researches in their rush now has cracks forming?? Oh the drama!

Now, a cracked egg can still hatch. Sneaseler, Ingo, and Akari would all still be devistated at this discovery but Ingo has helped salvage cracked eggs before and goes into protective mode. He takes one look at the newly acquired Chandelure and then tells the group he need a candle. They might have a few already, or Akari might hide her hair under a scarf and run down to the poke mart of a near by town to buy some with the battle winnings they have. Either way, there a tense moment when Chandelure lights the candle and Ingo hovers it over the egg. They all watch as the melted wax slowly dips down onto the egg, filling in and protecting the cracks. After that all they can do is wait and patch up an new cracks that start to form. They can only buy so much time though.

Days go by with them diligently checking on the egg every morning, noon, and night. Until one day a crack too big to seal forms and baby’s claws break through. Sneaseler takes the egg from them and sadly holds it close as the too small baby fights her way out. She’s too early, barely making any sound at all. Sneaseler tries to keep her awake even after hatching, terrified that she’ll die if she falls asleep.

I would need to figure out the other events surrounding this one before I decide upon what this could mean for other ideas, but Ingo risking himself to save the sneaslet is absolutely gonna happen. He might return to the pokemon nursery for help, but by this point they could be on the other side of Sinnoh. They could go into a Pokémon center for help, they both have started to remember those places to be honestly good places to go when your Pokémon was in danger. And Nurse Joy isn’t afraid to kick out a cop if their endangering her patients.

Ooo! If they go to a poke-center and Akari goes with him, it could be one where perhaps Cheryl has started working! How’s that for a Dawn identity reveal?? At first the staff is debating if they should alert the authorities but then Cheryl’s chansey gets a good look at Akari and recognizes her. She pulls over her trainer, who’s still scared because this person is supposedly a member of team galactic, but then she Recognizes the young girl who helped her through Eterna forest and battled her at the tower.

Ingo would be the one to do all the taking, Akari could be there to keep Sneaseler and the others calm. So Cheryl doesn’t get the chance to speak with her directly at first. She does trust them much more now and joins Nurse Joy’s side that the patient care comes first and foremost. If these people want help for their pokemon then that all that matters.

But for sure one of those eggs will be cracked and a baby girl will hatch too early! Thank you so much for this suggestion because I really wanted there to be some kind of lasting effect to the bad guys stealing the eggs!

[harrysgloves]

Three in a Tub

Harry Styles x Reader x Florence Pugh

Story Summary: Florence and Harry help you relax.

Warnings: Language // Foreplay (Fingering, Female Receiving from Male) // Voyeurism // MFF // 18+ please!

A/N: Requested! Hope you all have a good Friday night 😈 xx

>>><<<

You sunk deeper and deeper into the almost scalding bathwater. Your muscles burned and you silently cursed yourself for agreeing to an intro into pole dancing class.

You were a complete and total pushover when it came to telling your friends "no" and both of them knew it. 

Sam, your long time confidante, and his girlfriend, Casey, were pretty much the only friends you had that you actually liked. The other ones that were still mostly Sam's friends, you could really do without. Especially now that the metaphorical cat was out of the bag, and most people knew about your relationship.

They were a bunch of famous hungry assholes.

Minus Sam and Casey, who only ever wanted the best for you. 

But this? This was absolute horseshit.

You'd tried your best to weasel your way out of going to that stupid class but if your friends with someone long enough- not even your cutest puppy dog eyes will effect them.

To be fair, the class was fun. You had a good time once you started to crack out of your shell. It only took seeing Casey falling on her ass and you almost busting your lip open to stop caring so much about everyone looking at you. 

You laughed and giggled, carrying on with your friend but it was the day after your workout class and you felt like you were only moments away from dying.

You had waited until you knew both Harry and Florence were out of the house before sneaking over to use their good bathtub. While they were still trying their best to convince you to move in, you still had another 3 months to go on your lease.

This bathtub might change some of your moral standings on letting them buy you out of your lease. 

You'd marry this bathtub if you could.

Once you'd finally limped your way into the glorious tub you swore you were never getting out. The time slipping away from you, your eyes closed as the water soothed your overworked muscles that ached all the way down to the bone.

"Looks like we got an intruder, Flor." The smug voice of your boyfriend echoed through the tile covered room. Your eyes instantly shot open at the sound.

"Know you wouldn't have to break in if you just moved here." She said in almost a sing-song voice as her steps carried her from across the room to one side of the golden clawfoot tub that sat directly in the middle of the obnoxiously large room.

"It's not breaking in if you have a key and the alarm code."

"Gonna have to change the alarm, Flor." Harry chuckled as he sat opposite of Florence, his ringed hands skimming the top of the warm water.

"Yeah, something she'd never guess."

"Like you two could remember something other than my birthday as your alarm." You huffed, a smile cracked across both of their faces.

"Why didn't you tell us you were coming over, love?" Harry asked as he gently flicked the water about, Florence's hand joining in to do the same.

"Bit embarrassing."

"Not embarrassing!" She smiled widely, the glimmer of hope that you'd finally agree to move in, flashing in her face. "You know you can come over whenever. Besides, your bathtub is shit at your place." 

"Why would it be embarrassing?" Harry questioned, his brows furrowed when he saw you sink deeper into the tub.

"Oh," Florence tried her best to hide her snicker as she shook her head, her hands instantly moved from the water to your sore shoulders. Her fingers dug deep into the muscles, causing a satisfied groan to escape you. "Had that class yesterday, didn't you?"

"Bit sore, love?" Harry smiled, he already knew the answer to his question. The smile on his face was all-knowing, and annoying, but you somehow still loved it.

"Yes." You whined, "Shouldn't have gone. My legs hate me." 

"Let us help." He offered, your head nodding almost the second the words left his mouth.

Both sets of hands massaged into different parts of your sore body. Harry's hands gently and firmly rubbed down your legs one at a time, while Florence continued to work deep into your shoulders.

You rested your head against the curved back of the tub, feeling better within a few minutes then you had in 12 hours.

"Still tense?" She asked as her fingers continued their dance down your shoulders, across your chest. Her delicate fingers rolled your nipples to hard peaks.

"Yeah," You gasped out the word, "a bit."

"Should probably help her out with that, right, H?" Her sweet smile curled at the end of her lips, you had seen that cute smirk enough to know you were in for trouble.

"Think so, can't have our girl feeling bad." His hands, those fucking hands of magic, ran higher and higher up your thighs, your legs fell open without having to be told.

"Someone's being a good girl today." You could feel her smirk against your neck, her face buried there as she watched Harry tease your opening. 

His fingers ran up and down your slit. Those pastel green eyes darkened with every shuttering pass he made. Drinking you both in with his eyes, studying the way you gently shifted closer to him. His lips parting in a silent gasp of awe at the way your back arched when he finally slipped his finger inside you. Your tight cunt clasping around him, begging for more.

"Tense everywhere aren't you, lovie?"

"Our poor girl." She cooed, her lips pressed feather light against that weak spot you had close to your ear. Her warm breath fanned across your already steaming skin. "Gonna fuck you properly tonight. Make you forget about how much your body hurts, hm?"

"Fuck." Harry groaned when you breathlessly nodded your agreement. A second finger pressed against your g-spot when he surged forward to capture your lips with his own. His tongue was demanding, dominating, taking everything and anything he wanted. 

It left your toes curling into the metal of the tub. Your hands gripped around the sides to keep you from slipping down.

"Don't think H can wait much longer to fuck you, baby." Florence whispered in your ear loud enough for you both to hear.

He merely groaned as he parted from your lips, head rested against your shoulder as he pumped harder into you. 

Florence's mouth quickly replaced his, her movements soft and meticulous. Her hand wrapped around the back of your neck to bring you closer to her. Only breaking away when you couldn't keep up any longer.

You were a panting, moaning, mess. Harry knew your body like the back of his own hand and the second his thumb ran tight circles around your clit you felt the impending build of your high quickly approaching.

All of the sensations of the both of them working together had you weak. Her puffy pouty lips sucked hickeys into your skin. His free hand laced around your neck as he leaned down for a messy kiss, his thumb pressed gently against your pressure point.

"Be a good girl and cum for me, sweetheart. Know you want to, fuck can feel you begging for it." His words were slurred together with lust and greed, and God, he was ready to get you into bed.

You could hear every single sound in stereo-  the sloshing of the water, lips against skin, your rampant moans that grew and grew

And-

Your peak hit- consuming you completely. Your vision, your hearing, your sense of time and place all lost to the depth of pleasure. Your eyes rolled as your leg quivered. 

"So good for us."

"Fucking perfect."

"Love you so much, baby."

"Love you, sweetheart, you're okay. You're okay."

"I think my soul left my body for a second." You managed to breathe out before you could understand who was saying what. The sound of their laughter brought you closer and closer to the surface of yourself again.

The sloshing water and your body being moved around was your cue to finally open your eyes. Your head rested against his chest while Florence situated her back to your front. Her hand laced through yours, Harry chin rested on your shoulder.

"Love you." You murmured, the words still felt weird on your lips but you loved the way they both lit up when you said them.

"Which one do you love the most?" He asked without a moment's pause, your eyes instantly rolled as you groaned.

"Fuck, we're not doing this while I can hardly feel my face." 

"It's me isn't it?"

"I don't want to be around either one of you right now." You huffed as you tried to sit up a bit, both bodies trapped you in your place.

"We're in the bath together, love."

"You mean dirty water soup."

"Ew!" Florence screeched, instantly shooting forward and up out of the bath.

"Had to ruin it, didn't you?" Harry questioned with a laugh as he shook his head.

"Yeah, it gets you two to the bed faster."

[gender-not-found-404-ao3]

it may be time to put the Coahuila and Texas twin headcanon onto the table 👀👀

AAAAAAA JUST GOT OUT OF SCHOOL SO BRAINROT TIME!

I read about Texan history fairly recently since i was writing a practice draft about him and suddenly the headcanon gods gave me this wonderful idea I'm excited to share with y'all.

Texas and Coahuila were fraternal twins who were born a few years before the Mexican territory of "Coahuila y Tejas" was founded (around 1817). Neither of them can remember if they were born of a human mother or if they just popped into existence, like many other personifications (i have another whole ass headcanon for this one)

As twins, they both share similarities. They both share the same button nose and the same tanned skin. They both have freckles around their cheeks (although Texas's are more noticeable) and they both have a lisp that comes out when they're angry as fuck.

But as people, they have their differences as well. Coahuila is a girl while Texas is a boy. Coahuila is the "eldest" while Texas was the "youngest." Coahuila's eyes are the brightest honey eyes you'll ever see, while Texas's are more of a smooth, chocolate colour.

Coahuila wanted her people to be free, for them to live as people instead of slaves.

Texas wanted to keep his slaves, and he wanted to be free himself.

Coahuila was always proud and loud to be a Mexican state. Texas never thought of himself as one in the first place.

One night, he had a decision to make. Either keep pushing for American statehood or for independence, breaking their relationship beyond repair, or to free his slaves and to join his sister and the rest of the Mexican states.

The next day, October 2, 1835, the first battle against Mexican authorities for the Texan Revolution started.

April 22, 1836. He had to say his goodbyes to Coahuila. He headed towards his first home, trying his best to ignore the sting in his heart while doing so.

Instead, he was greeted into an empty shell of the house he knew, the only two objects left resting in the once living room. The rocking horse that he got as a gift for his 5th birthday from a local carpenter, and the cowboy hat that his sister made him for his 12th birthday. A small letter was on the interior of his hat, right besides the small, carved "C - For T" on the leather.

As a tear tolled down his cheek, reality hit him of what he really lost in the midst of the war. But there was no backing out now.

Nowadays, they're on tiny bit better terms. Not too much as the carefree siblings they once were, but they don't send representatives when they know the other is gonna be present in any context imaginable. Texas stopped hiding his birthmark from everyone, and Coahuila doesn't deny that they're blood related anymore. It's tiny steps, but it still matters at the end of the day.

In the holidays, New Mexico and Arizona tend to seek out after Texas and Utah started to bring him in whenever Christmas came around. Coahuila makes sure to take out her prettiest clothes and her sharpest eyeliner and makes sure to bring Nuevo Leon with her to party all night and day.

Sometimes, they both sit down outside on a dark field, under the light of the moonlight, staring at the horizon, hoping that wherever the other is, they're well fed and warm and safe. They both hope the other is okay, since they can't say that for themselves.

.

This was supposed to be a short and happy headcanon what happened— NEWAYS— have fun with this y'all :}

[harlowsbby]

Angel

You were the shy type you’ve always been like that your whole life even Jack had a hard time breaking you out of your shell. When Jack brought you along to one of Druski’s parties you weren’t that excited about going but you knew it would make Jack happy.

Once you got there you immediately clung onto Jack’s hand he sighed wanting you to go have fun and mingle with everyone but it didn’t look like that was happening.

“Baby you gotta loosen up baby and socialize I love you baby but come on they aren’t bad and Urban is here too” Jack explained as he grabbed your hand and lead you towards Urban and Druski.

“What’s up Jack I haven’t seen you in forever.” Druski laughed as he hugged Jack once he pulled away he noticed you and smiled you smiled back as well.

“Hey Y/N I’ve heard a lot about you from Jack I still don’t understand why you picked this man to be with he’s ugly as hell reminds me of a off brand Justin Timberlake” Druski said which caused everyone around to laugh including you Jack raised his eyebrows to you and you giggled glaring at him playfully.

“Oh so that’s funny to you baby ? I see how it is” jack said trying to play off that he was hurt but failed when he started laughing along as well.

Later that night while Jack was with Druski and some of his other friends he noticed he hasn’t seen you in awhile he frowned and went to look for you. He stopped once he noticed you talking to a few girls he smiled and decided to be nosy.

“Yeah I really love Euphoria I can’t believe Cassie did that to Maddy I’d be beating a girls ass” You explained happily as the girls laughed nodding in agreement with you.

“Yeah but you know Cassie is gonna get her’s I know Maddy don’t play at all.” Jack heard one of the girls express.

Jack smiled happy that his sweet little Angel was finally enjoying herself and not hiding away in their shared house together. Jack went back to where Urban was and talked to them for a little bit longer.

It was around 1am and you were tired and just ready to go back home you found Jack talking to Urban and Clay and laid down next to him laying your head on his lap. You stroked your hair knowing you were tired he leaned down slightly and whispered into your ear.

“You okay baby ? I saw you talking to them girls earlier I’m happy you made friends and getting out of your shell” Jack whispered and pecked your cheek you nodded smiling softly.

“Me too Jack they wanna meet up next Sunday to watch euphoria together.” You explained while your eyes closed.

“That’s good Angel we can have it at my house you know I love me some euphoria” Jack said and you nodded starting to fall asleep. Jack smiled down at you and kept playing with your hair while he went back to talking to Urban and Clay.

[bakatenshii]

Gojō Satoru x Reader (Jujutsu Kaisen)

word count: 1k

TW: 18+, smut, implied age gap, pseudo-incest

A/N: inspired by this ask. if u saw me going on a Gojou-is-boring-and-too-unoffensive-to-lewd spree, no u didn’t. nonnie my brain has been cracked open, that ask had me literally feral and frothing. please take this drabble as an offering, sorry it turned out so soft I don’t know what’s wrong with me either.

Uncle Satoru loves you. He tells you this every time he comes by, runs a hand too far down your back and presses a kiss to your forehead. You’re like his precious lil girl, you know? They go way back, you must’ve heard all the stories of him and Suguru’s escapades back when they were still rebelling teens in school— it’s only normal that Suguru’s lil girl is basically his lil girl.

And yeah, he’s right; you could probably recount their each and every chronicle backwards, been repeated to you every night growing up like bedtime stories; Uncle Satoru’s a genius, they all say. He’s charismatic, charming, the strongest sorcerer of the century, aren’t you the luckiest girl on earth to be able to meet him in person?

You didn’t know charming was another word for pervert, genius another word for creep, that you should feel so absolutely blessed that his fingers trace up your skirt under the dinner table and slide under your panties while your dad’s picking at an edamame and you choke a whine into your tea.

Uncle Satoru just wants to protect you. He’s convincing himself more than he’s convincing you when your bedroom door cracks open and he slides behind you under the covers on the bed. Suguru’s just been called out for an emergency job so the house is all empty, aren’t you scared?

You’re not, but he doesn’t listen. He never listens, not when he drapes an arm over your side turned body, fingertips dancing down your shoulders to your waist, littering goosebumps in their path until they pause, digging into the flesh of your hip. You can feel the tent prodding at your ass, can feel it twitch and pulse at every involuntary moan, can feel the throbbing pool between your thighs betraying your screaming rationality.

It’s like he can sense it, can smell your reluctant arousal and body relaxing caged under his long limbs. This time his hand doesnt stop once inside your panties, they travel down, down, slicking up with every swipe down your slit, bringing it back up and grazing over that swollen bud, and you whine out loud this time, toes curling and blood dripping from the teeth sinking into your bottom lip.

“So sensitive,” you can feel his breath warm the shell of your ear and you want him to shut up, stop talking. “Does Suguru know his daughter’s been in thirsting over his best friend?” Stop talking. “Does Daddy know his lil girl touches herself at night while moaning his best friend’s name?”

The amusement in his voice makes you want to hide, makes you want to bury your face in embarrassment, makes you want to hate him for airing out delusional lie after lie— except it’s not a lie.

Because your hips are bucking into his palm, trying to catch his fingers on the bundle of nerves that’ll drown out the shame clouding your mind with the orgasm you’re chasing.

Uncle Satoru’s the only one for you. And he’s right, has been right since the day your dad introduced all 6’4 and messy snow white hair of him with his carefree laugh that’s so foreign to you, so foreign from everything your dad is.

That’s why he’s the only one who deserves you— to break you in, to mold your body until it knows only him, craves only him— and in your dazed state you can’t do anything but nod, can’t do anything but let him spread your thighs open and blush as he admires the glistening folds.

You don’t ask why he doesn’t prepare you, didn’t even realize when he’s pulled his waistband down and released his cock, but when you finally gather the courage to glance up at him the look behind the ice blue eyes are foreign, feral. The grace and charm of the sorcerer of the century is lost behind the pure brute of his cock sinking into you in one thrust, and your legs kick out before folding in around his waist.

He chuckles, you choke on a sob, the room fills with rhythmic slaps echoing off the walls of the empty house. It’s an ode to the taboo, a victory song for Satoru for finally taking his best friend’s daughter, but you’re too lost in the feeling of every thrust pushing his cockhead into that spongey patch, every thrust making your eyes roll back into your skull, every thrust pushing your tongue to loll out and brain wash over in pleasure.

Tell Uncle Satoru you love him.

The words come blubbering out, slurred with the spit and drool pooling out your lips, broken by every rough slap of his hips bruising into yours. You love him, have loved him since he’s taught you to ride a bike because your dad’s too busy to, since he let you scream your throat raw to him about your first heartbreak back in highschool, smoothing over your hair and pressing kisses to your head, promising you’ll find someone better, someone who deserves you more— someone more like him. But you swallowed that thought back then.

Tell Uncle Satoru he’s the only one for you.

You can feel your chest tightening up with the coil inside you, whines and cries shamelessly loud and nails clawing crescents down his back under his sweat-drenched top, “gonna cum for me?” And you do, on cue, body tensing as your walls pulse around him in tune with your palpitating heart.

You’re not sure when he cums, mind still floating on waves of euphoria, but your legs are shaking when he stills inside of you, hips stuttering before you feel the warmth flood out. He chuckles when he pulls out and you frown, you want to know why, what’s so funny?

“Looks like Daddy’s home,” and oh, that’s not very funny.

The bed dips and reinflates as he climbs off, limbs steady and suave and it annoys you how drastic the contrast is, annoys you how you’re boneless and breathing erratically while he’s so calm, so collected, so experienced.

Your hand finds the hem of his drying shirt as he moves towards the door, pinch it between your fingers and tug it lightly back towards you; Uncle Satoru should know what you want, been able to decipher everything else unspoken and hung in the air before. But he shakes his head, icy blue stare a degree warmer as he leans down to press a kiss to your hair.

“Uncle Satoru loves you.”

[stevesbestgirl]

Last Call

Biker!Bucky x f!Reader

1921 Words

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, sexual harassment, groping, swearing, implied violence, a small amount of blood

“Can I get you anything else?” You offered a smile to the hulking man in front of you as you slid a beer across the counter into his large palm.

“Your phone number maybe,” he gave you a cheeky smile. “Or a date?”

“Bucky, you ask me every time you come in here.” You avoided the question, grabbing a rag and wiping the bar down.

“Then why ya still saying no, sugar?” He sipped his beer and watched you, not hiding the way his eyes drifted over you as you moved down the bar.

You sighed, “I’ve told you, I don’t date the patrons.”

“What if I stop coming in?”

“There’s not another bar that’ll serve a biker gang for another fifty miles, where you gonna go?” You chuckled; you’d had this conversation before. More specifically, every time Bucky came in since you’d started this job three weeks ago.

“I could take a break from going out.” He patted his non-existent stomach, “I could stand to lose a few pounds anyway.”

Raising an eyebrow, you appraised him, “You’re six feet of muscle, Barnes. What exactly are you trying to lose? A limb?”

“Fine, I won’t quit drinking,” he took a swig of his beer, “I got booze at home anyways.”

Smiling coyly, you teased, “But then I’d be out of a job for driving away our best customers.”

“But then you could go out with me,” he pointed out.

Rolling your eyes, you poured yourself a shot, “Yes, you could hypothetically go on a date with me once I’m homeless because I lost my job.”

“You wouldn’t be homeless; you could stay with me!”

You cracked a smile, “Go back to your seat, Buck. I gotta bus tables.” You threw back the shot, the liquor burning a little on the way down.

Bucky smiled wryly, running a hand through his long locks, “Guess I’ll try again tomorrow.”

Brushing his shoulders as you crossed behind him, you smiled, “Looking forward to it.”

You heard the whoops and shouts as he returned to his booth, his friends teasing him about yet another rejection. Glancing over, you watched as Bucky shrugged off his jacket, allowing the teasing to roll off his broad shoulders. He glanced at you, catching you blatantly staring, and giving you a quick wink. Returning your eyes to your work, you wiped off the tables, clearing away peanut shells and empty glasses, scrubbing at the sticky rings left on the Formica.

You enjoyed your nightly chat with Bucky; it was part of the job to flirt with the customers, but you actually enjoyed it with him. And you did feel bad turning him down night after night. If there was anyone you’d considering breaking your rule for, it was him. But it wasn’t really patrons you were worried about; you weren’t sure you were comfortable dating a biker.

“Hey, darlin’, we need another round over here!” Someone snapped their fingers two tables over and you rolled your eyes.

“I’ll grab those for you in just a sec, boys,” you chirped, hoisting the bus tub up on your hip and making your way back behind the bar to drop it in the kitchen. Depositing the tub by the sink and pushing back through the swinging kitchen door, you stopped in your tracks.

“-can grab more ‘n my beer if y’know what I mean,” a heavyset blonde nudged his friend with his elbow. A laugh went up around the table and you felt your face grow warm; his comment was loud enough to be heard by the whole bar.

Ignoring the comment, you filled fresh glasses for the table- that way you wouldn’t have to make two trips over there. Marching over, you slid each man their drink, walking around the table to collect the empties so you wouldn’t have to lean across.

One of them leaned over to whisper something and the blonde man slurred at you, “Did ya hear what I said?”

“I did,” you said stiffly.

“Aw man, you mad at me, sweet cheeks?” You could smell his breath from across the table.

Heaving a sigh, you marched over, collecting his still-full drink, “I think you’ve had enough.”

He caught your wrist with surprisingly fast reflexes for someone so inebriated, “I say when ‘m finished, darlin’. And it was a fuckin’ compliment.”

“Let go of me. You’re done,” you hissed.

He put his other hand on your thigh, sliding it up beneath your skirt, “If ‘m not gettin’ more to drink, I’m at least gettin’ a handful of that ass before I go.” He squeezed hard, pinching the flesh between his fingers, making you cry out.

“That’s it,” you heard Bucky growl from behind you, followed by rapid, heavy footsteps. Before you could even glance over your shoulder, he’d pulled the blonde from his seat by the collar of his shirt, slamming him down on the table. Every glass jumped at the impact, sending beer crawling over the table and dripping onto the floor. The crowd of men jumped back, eager to distance themselves from their friend now that he’d gotten himself into trouble.

Bucky only spared them a passing glance, “You’d better make yourselves scarce before I really lose my temper.” Turning his attention back to the blonde, he hissed, “You’ve got five seconds to apologize, leave a nice tip, and get the fuck out of here.”

“A tip?” The blonde managed a scratchy scoff around Bucky’s fingers on his throat, “I don’t tip for shitty service or for a disappointing ass, so you’re out of luck.”

“You-”

Steve clapped Bucky on the shoulder, glancing at where you stood, transfixed, “Buck, let’s take this outside.”

Bucky followed Steve’s gaze to you, his fist dropping, “Fine. But he’s mine.”

They each took one of the man’s arms, hoisting him off the table and dragging him out the back door. You only watched them go, unable to conjure up any emotions beyond being dumbstruck. You’d known what you were getting into, taking a waitressing gig at a seedy bar, but you’d been lucky so far- up until now.

Glancing at the rest of the crew still in the booth, you watched Sam down the rest of his drink and the others followed suit. Sam strode over to you, pressing a bundle of cash into your hand, “Sorry about the mess, little miss.” Then they filed out the back door after Bucky and Steve.

The few remaining patrons had the good sense to keep their eyes on their drinks through the whole incident, but now they peered at you curiously. Opting to cash out the tabs later, you tucked the money into your apron and set to cleaning up the beer that was spreading over the already-sticky floor.

Once the mess was cleaned up, you bussed both tables, noting the still full beer Bucky had left behind. The clock on the wall caught your eye and you announced last call, ringing out the last few customers before balancing the till.

Cashing out, you realized with a sigh that the blonde man’s friends had split without paying their tab. Marking the shortage on your notepad, you rang up Bucky and his friends, minus Bucky’s untouched beer, and your breath caught in your throat. Sam had slipped you enough for both tables and a hefty tip on top of it.

Tears pricked your eyes; you weren’t sure what you expected from a biker gang, but that wasn’t it. Tipping your head back, intent on not crying, you jumped at the sound of the back door- someone must have propped it open and you’d been too distracted to notice.

Bucky plunked down at the end of the bar, “I know I missed last call, but can I finish that beer first?”

You pulled a clean glass out, filling it carefully so there was no foam, “Here. A fresh one, on me.”

“Nah, I’ll pay for it, sugar,” he grumbled a protest, patting his pocket for his wallet. “Shit, must’ve left it at the table.”

“I cleaned up over there; I didn’t see it.”

“Fuckin’ Sam must’ve picked it up.”

You connected the dots, scooping up the pile of cash from the counter, “I think this is probably yours then.” You couldn’t help but laugh; that explained the generosity. You began to count, “I’ve gotta keep enough to pay the tab, but here, that’s what’s left. You’ll have to square up with Sam later.”

He waved away the still substantial remainder, “Keep it. I probably would have given it to you anyway.” He wrapped his hand around the glass and your eyes fell on his knuckles, torn up and bloody.

You swallowed the lump that rose in your throat, “Thank you. For sticking up for me.”

“No problem,” he grunted. “Guy was an ass.”

“You, uh, didn’t kill him, right?”

He chuckled, sounding displeased, “No, thanks to Steve, I just roughed him up a little. He’ll be fine.” You breathed a sigh of relief as he slugged his drink before continuing, “He won’t bother ya again. And I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Wait,” you grabbed his wrist as he rose, “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” He raised an eyebrow, but he sat back down as you hurried into the kitchen, returning with a first aid kit. “You should at least disinfect your hand.” You sat on the stool next to him, pulling out bandages.

“Those knuckles have seen worse, sugar, you don’t gotta do that.”

“I know- I want to. Now stay still.”

He chuckled again at the instruction, but did as you asked, unflinching as you cleaned him up. When he spoke, it was low, “Think I owe you ‘n apology.”

You glanced at his face; he looked guilty, his blue eyes remorseful, “For what?”

“Didn’t mean to bother ya every night. ‘M not much different from that asshole, harassing you for a date.”

You smiled wryly, “Nah, you are different. I like talking to you.”

He brightened, if only slightly, “Yeah?”

Biting your lip as you wrapped his knuckles, you nodded, “Yeah.” He didn’t say anything else, watching you work instead. Tying the bandage off, you met his eyes, “I know it doesn’t look tough, but just humor me and keep it on ‘til tomorrow, alright?”

He smiled, “Sure thing, sugar. ‘M I free to go?”

“Not quite.” You abandoned your stool, standing in the small gap between yours and his and slowly wrapping your arms around his neck as you leaned into him.

He cupped your chin, holding you back, “You don’t gotta do this.”

“I know,” you murmured. “I want to.”

He slackened his grip on your chin and you bridged the rest of the distance, your lips finding his. You’d always thought Bucky had a pretty mouth, but you weren’t prepared for how soft those pink lips would be on your own. Not only that, but Bucky himself was soft, kissing you back with a gentleness you wouldn’t have expected, leaving you melting under the easy weight of his hand on your waist.

Straddling his thigh, you deepened the kiss, nipping his lip softly. His mouth fell open as a groan escaped him, his hands sliding over your hips and pulling you closer to him. You could taste the beer on his tongue and it almost made you a little dizzy.

You ran your hand through his hair, cupping the back of his neck before breaking away and taking a sharp breath, “Think I can still get that date?”

[cursed-domain]

Experiments

Mahito x Reader, WC ~3.9k

Mahito’s been testing out his powers for a while now. He wants to do something different with his latest victim. Something a little more... human.

warnings: NSFW and Dark Content - NONCON if that is not your thing do not read any farther. You have been warned. Also fear, tears, kidnapping, possessiveness, oral sex, biting, slapping and uh. Mahito. I think he deserves a warning of his own.

You stayed out just a little too late last night. And you walked home alone. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew that was a bad idea, but - the bar was right down the street from your apartment building, and your friends were - well, they were scattered, and they were hard to find, and you were sure that you could walk straight if you only tried. Your heels were only a couple inches high. 

Maybe you’d somehow fallen right down a drain in the sidewalk last night. Maybe it was too dark to notice, and you were more tipsy than you thought. But that theory doesn’t fit with your last memory aboveground. It doesn’t explain the presence you felt behind you, the feeling that something heavy and hateful had manifested right over your shoulder. 

Most importantly, there are no scratches or scrapes anywhere on your body. You can’t have fallen. You were brought here. Hidden away beneath the street into a tunnel you had no idea existed. And your host has been kind enough to keep you in perfect condition. You’re not even dirty from where you’ve clearly been crumpled on the floor - somehow, the stone corridor is perfectly clean.

As you sit up, all these thoughts run through your head in a matter of seconds. Your shell-shocked stream of consciousness doesn’t give way to panic until a hand from behind you lands on your shoulder. Its owner doesn’t even let you scream - he claps his other hand over your mouth before you have the chance to open it, and leans down so that you feel his hot breath in your ear. “Boo.” 

You strain against his hand when you hear his voice. It doesn’t sound - well, you’re not quite sure what you expected a kidnapper to sound like. Maybe a lower voice. Certainly a sinister one. But he just sounds excited and mischievous, like a child who’s gotten away with a prank. So lighthearted in what is, for you, such a dire situation - it sends a shiver up your spine to imagine his grin.

You don’t have to imagine for long. His hand slinks from your shoulder up your neck, taking root in your hair and yanking your head back so you’re forced to look up. It is dim in the tunnel, but you see his face clearly. You register, in a far-off place in your mind, that it is pretty, almost feminine. Your impression is that his face is far too fine compared to the coarseness of his mouth and his hands, even with the strange scars stitching their way across the unnaturally smooth skin.  

“Don’t look so terrified. Or do. I kinda like it.” Your eyes stretch even wider. “Yeah - I really like it, actually. Stay just like that.” When he speaks for longer, you notice the eerie quality of the cavern - the way it causes sounds to echo and reverberate down its walls. Farther down, you hear the drip-drip-drip of dirty water hitting the floor. But here - not even a drop. It’s as if the space has been cleared of its usual filth, just for you. “Okay,” he says, “I actually wanna hear you, too.” He doesn’t wait for a response before taking his hand from your mouth and letting go of your hair. 

Your heels - they must have fallen off. Or he took them off. In any case - you can run. You know it’s pointless as soon as you stand up. You know even the time you take to rise to your feet is enough for him to grab onto you again. But you have to try. So you do. You’re surprised to get any distance at all. You’re shocked to have made it ten paces - twenty - thirty. Even sprinting with the adrenaline-spiked speed of someone who fears for her life, this shouldn’t be possible. But you find yourself starting to hope. You’re fast, and maybe he was caught off guard. Maybe, just maybe, you can make it to the light you see shining at the mouth of the tunnel. It’s not that far away. And once you’re out there, on the street, he won’t be able to do anything. You’ll make it home and forget this ever happened. Even now, you’re wondering if it’s all a dream. If you’re going to wake up once you hit that light - closer now, so close - snug in your bed, wondering how you managed to make it home last night but relieved that you did. Yes. That has to be it. This isn’t real, and you’re going to escape it so, so soon -

A rush of cold air streaks past you, and your captor appears in front of you, grinning as he blocks your path. You try to step to the side, but he’s already there. Back the other way - he beats you again. You feel your will collapse in on itself as he steps forward and snakes his hand around your waist, laughing unabashedly as you struggle. “Not bad,” he says. “Of course, I gave you a pretty big head start. But still. You run pretty fast for someone who could barely walk the night before.”

You’re so close to him that you’re sure he must be able to hear your heart pounding. Despite your best efforts to hold yourself back, you find yourself looking up at his face again. His eyes are pretty, too. But they’re mismatched - one is a light gray and the other is deep blue - and unblinking. Seeing them up close only makes his presence more unnerving. He grins crookedly as you make eye contact with him, staring back without saying a word.

“What - why -” you break eye contact, choosing instead to stare at the ground where his bare feet are nearly on top of yours. “Please. Let me go.”

“Nuh-uh. No way.” He pushes you back at arms length and leans over you, his face coming so close to yours that your eyes unfocus trying to look at him. “Haven’t even done anything yet.”

“Done…”

“Mhm.” He takes your shoulders and turns you around, giving you a light shove to get you moving. You shudder - your dress has an open back, so his hand didn’t just touch your clothes, but your bare skin. And it’s so short, too. He’s probably staring as you walk, tracing your curves with those unnatural eyes. He looked down when he had you pressed up against him. He didn’t even try to hide it. 

“That’s far enough.” You stop, not even daring to turn around. He slithers around you instead, dragging his hand over the back of your dress again as he passes, keeping a hold on you and pulling you close again. “You’re gonna help me out with some things today, alright?”

When you hesitate, his long fingernails tighten against your skin. He’ll draw blood if he presses any harder. “What…what do you want?”

“I’ve been doin’ some experiments down here.” His nails drag down the curve of your back, only stopping at your hips. “Been learning what I’m capable of. I’ll show you the other test subjects if I have to but… I think I’ve already convinced you to cooperate, right?” He tugs on the hem of your dress, sliding his fingertips underneath the edge of the thin fabric. “You don’t seem ready to meet anyone right now, anyways. Not as if they’re really in a state to talk to you.”

You stare blankly, resisting the urge to squirm as his hand trails up the back of your thigh. Not for the first time, you wonder if you’re going to be leaving this place alive.

“Lots of room down here,” he says. “Plenty of dark corners. But I think I’m gonna keep you right here.” 

“Please..” you say.

“Hmm?” He smiles a second later, once he understands. “Please don’t kill you, right? Don’t mutate your pretty body and then throw you somewhere no one will ever find you?” Your mind amends mutate to mutilate. The intellectual victory does nothing to comfort you. “Don’t worry. ‘m not gonna do that. Not yet, anyways.” His nails are scraping very high on your thigh, now, and the other hand is weaving its way through your hair. His fingers seem to bend strangely around you, as if they have no set form at all, as if they’re molding to best fit your body as he claims it piece by piece. “You’re just gonna help me out a little, okay? “You’re gonna help me figure out what else I’m capable of.”

He grips the top of your head and forces it up and down, mimicking a nod, laughing impishly as you glare up at him. “So sweet of you. We’ll take this one step at a time, alright?”

You don’t understand until he leans over you, running a fingertip across your lips to part them slightly before meeting them with his own. You try to recoil, but the hand toying with your dress runs up your back and presses you forward, forcing you deeper into the kiss instead. It’s unexpectedly gentle, at first, but as your body is forced flush against his it becomes more messy, more hungry. He shoves his tongue against yours and grips your hair tight enough for it to hurt, only drawing back for long enough to bite your lip and watch a string of drool drip across the faint indent he’s left behind. You gasp for breath until he swallows up your mouth again, using his tongue to reach every place he can. 

You stay in place even when he relaxes his grip. He only stops to speak once he has, it seems to you, tried every kind of kiss he can think of - fast, slow, shallow, violent, hungry, sloppy. “You’re doing good,” he says, flashing the same smile as before. “Good start. Amazing, really…” He shakes his head, like he’s trying to clear his thoughts, and the softer smile is replaced by a cold grin. “Take your dress off.” 

“Wh -”

“Take it off. Take off whatever you have underneath it, too. I don’t care about seeing it.”

“But -” 

“But - but -” He laughs again, practically giggles as he mocks your faint protests. “You don’t wanna die, either, do you?”

Mute, you shake your head.

“Actually…” He turns you around again, and you think you hear him sigh faintly as his hips snap against yours. “You’re taking too long. I’ll just do it myself.” He gives you no time to react before tugging on the zipper of your short dress, so violently that it hitches on the teeth and nearly breaks off. Only the second time does he do it right, pulling it all the way down in a smooth motion. The dress only covered from your lower back to a few inches down your thighs, anyways, and now even that protection is stripped away. The front of your body is exposed, too, as he tugs the thin garment along with your panties down to the stone ground beneath your feet.

Every muscle in your body tenses as his own bare skin collides with yours, his worn pants pulled down to rest alongside your dress. “Didn’t even wear anything beneath the dress up here,” he mutters. He reaches from behind you, groping your tits with no regard for the way you whine and squirm. “Making it so easy for me, aren’t you?”

“No,” you gasp. “Didn’t wear anything there. I should have -”

He claws his nails over the delicate peaks of your breasts, and you bite hard on your lip to keep from crying out. “Interesting. That’s a sweet spot, huh?” You shiver as he clamps down on you again. “You got any more I should know about?”

“No…” You lie, as if anything you say now will help you. He’s tracing every inch of your skin already, down your stomach and hips and up your thighs, squeezing and pinching when you least expect it, mapping you out like you’re the first person he’s been this close to in his life. 

“You sure?” He taps his fingertips along the creases that connect the tops of your thighs to your body, pressing close against you and breathing hot in your ear. Making sure you hear and feel his excitement. “We’re gonna test that out, too. So spread out your legs. They’re getting in the way.” 

You clench your fists tight and do as he says, shifting on either side to allow him easy access to every part of you. Still, you reflexively pull your hips back as his fingers climb their way towards your cunt, cringing when your sudden motions make his cock pulse against your skin. 

“What’re you doing that for?” He cups his hand between your legs, ending your desperate attempts to squirm away. “Not like you’re going anywhere, right?” He pulls his hand back, showing you the wet sheen that’s rubbed off on his fingers. “I don’t think you would even if you could. But if you want, I’ll let you run again. Give you ‘til the count of ten before I start chasing you. Maybe even twenty or thirty. Maybe I’ll let you see the street before I drag you back here.” He lets go of you, grabbing your arms and using them to turn you back the way you ran before. “We’ll do it now, actually. Run! I’ll be not-quite-right-behind you.”

You shake your head. 

“Come onn. It’ll be fun. Or - well, I’ll have fun.” Your feet stay rooted to the ground. He looks genuinely disappointed, for a moment, as if he actually expected you to take him up on his inane offer. “Fine.” He shoves down on your shoulders, and you follow the motion, crumpling down to your knees with no resistance. “You can entertain me this way instead, then.” Now that he’s in front of you again, you look for the first time. You’re equal parts curious and repelled by the stitch-like markings that continue down the rest of his body. If you were thinking clearly, you’d wonder if they were perhaps tattoos, and why anyone would choose to do something like that to themselves. But the crisscrossing lines guide you far too quickly down the length of his frame, forcing your curious eyes down below his hips before you have the sense to close them. 

He tilts his head, sizing up your expression before flicking his eyes down your body and then back up to meet yours. “You’ve definitely done this before. So do it right.” Your eyes are almost as wide as your mouth as he closes the last inches between you and him. “Make it feel how it’s supposed to.” You nod blanlky as you wonder how you’re supposed to fit him all the way in your mouth. Maybe you won’t have to. He’s so obviously inexperienced, so eager… maybe you can end this quickly. 

You drag the tip of your tongue up the underside of his cock, forcing yourself to look up at him as you give the same slow treatment to the sides and the tip before taking the shaft in your hand. He stares back, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your mouth as it works over his cock. He’s breathing harder already, less than halfway into your mouth, almost letting the breaths tip over the edge into moans as your tongue flicks up his length again. It takes a concerted effort not to close your eyes, to not let your resolve crumble. 

It has started to happen already. He was right in his crude assessment of you - you do know what you’re doing - but you’ve never been so terrified with a cock in your mouth, never felt like your life depended on your ability to please the man in front of you. Your strokes become sloppy as you let panic edge into the corners of your vision.

“Fuck,” he groans. Your one free hand clenches into a fist as he grabs you at the nape of your neck and thrusts forward, holding you still as he forces his cock back into your throat. “Fuck.” You feel him writhe in your mouth just as his fingers did in your hair, molding himself to the contours of your throat as he fucks your face over and over, only becoming more frantic as you start to struggle against his hand, more frenzied as you gag and drool around him, until finally - finally - you’re tugged forward one last time, your lips pulled taught as hot liquid spurts down your throat. He keeps you there as you continue struggling for breath, sliding his thumb over your bottom lip and smearing your drool across your face. 

When you’re finally allowed to pull back, you wrap your arms around yourself, shrinking inwards as you whisper, “Please. May I go now?”

“Huh?” He crouches down until his face is level with yours, crossing his arms over his knees as he sinks to the ground. You try to keep your eyes on his face - it’s practically glowing, his eyes wild and bright, their contrasting colors even more apparent. “We’re not done yet, sweetheart. Just taking a little break.” 

You freeze for a second before scrambling backwards. It’s absolutely stupid, but - he said he wanted you to run. So he won’t get mad at you for trying one last time. And maybe it’ll work this time. Maybe you’ll get out. Maybe he was lying and he’s actually ready to see you go. Maybe seeing you run naked and sobbing onto the street will be enough to satisfy him, and he won’t chase you any farther.

He gives you five paces before pouncing, pinning you to the ground with one hand wrapped tight around your throat, turning you over so he can see the fear written on your face. “Guess what?” He whispers it into your ear before sinking his teeth into your neck, nearly hard enough to split your skin open. You feel something hard pressing into your stomach, swelling as you cry out in pain. “Break is over.” He drags his tongue over cheek and traces it down your jaw before kissing you right where the bite mark still glows red on your skin. Using both hands to pin your wrists down at your sides, he drags his way down your body, running his tongue over your breasts, your navel, around the triangle between your thighs. “I usually don’t care much about what’s fair, but - I really think I should return the favor.” His eyes flit down to your legs, squeezed tightly together. “Try to relax. This is supposed to be fun, right?” He works two fingers between thighs and prys them open. 

You hold back a whimper as he dives into the space between, dragging the flat of his tongue voraciously over your hot cunt. He’s sloppy, ignoring the way your eyes are glued to his face as he tests and probes your cunt, teasing the opening and forcing his tongue inside, giving no pause before swallowing the sheen left behind. You have to squeeze your eyes shut. You have to tell yourself not to give in to the heat sweeping through your core, not to accept even a tiny bit of pleasure from the man defiling you, but - it’s so, so difficult. So strange to feel someone so obviously selfish pleasing you, even if it’s by accident, even if it’s just for his own enjoyment - you can’t stop yourself from pushing your hips shamelessly against his mouth. Can’t stop yourself from moaning as his fingers find your clit. 

He pulls away, laughing at the whine that escapes from your mouth. “Tastes better than I thought,” he says. “But you  - you’re reacting just like I thought. It’s like your mind’s melting away.” He pinches your clit between two fingers, and your eyes nearly roll back into your head. “You’re being controlled by this now.”

You just manage to shake your head. “No - no. I’m still - I don’t -”

He pounces on top of you again, thrusting his fingers into your open mouth. “Shhh. You don’t have to talk. That’s not what you’re here for.” He grinds against you, his cock already pushing at the entrance to your cunt as he fucks your mouth with his fingers, nearly making you gag as he pushes relentlessly into your throat. “You’re here to help me out, right? And you’ve been doing so good. So good for me.” You don’t want your stomach to flutter at the praise. Not here, not from him. You try your best to ignore it, tell yourself to close your eyes as he all but fucks your thighs. 

When you try to screw them shut, though, he puts his pinky right on your eyelid and drags up, forcing it to flutter open again. “Ah-ah,” he says. “Keep your eyes open. I wanna see how this makes you feel.” He presses his hips hard against yours, guiding himself nearly all the way inside you in a single motion. “Fuck.” His eyes nearly close as he savors the feeling of you tightening around him, but he keeps them open just wide enough to see your lips open wide, forming an O around the fingers still scraping against your tongue. “I’m keeping you here forever. Understand?” The drool from his fingers smudges across your cheek as he grabs the sides of your face, squeezing as he shoves farther inside you, over and over again, only spurred on by the sloppy noises he hears every time the two of you connect. “Gonna be - gonna be my fucking toy forever. I’ll keep you on a fucking leash if I have to.” 

All you can do is whimper and blink back your tears. He brushes his tongue across your face, licking them away as they overflow. “You look so scared. So mad.” He’s slowing himself down, now. Making it last. “It’s cute. Stay just like that, okay?” He presses on the corners of your mouth, forcing it deeper into a scowl. “So fucking cute.”

Your eyes match the anger he’s forced onto your mouth. Somehow, this moment feels worse than everything that’s come before. He’s playing with your face now. Trying to make it his, just like your body. And something about that - it breaks your daze. And your arms aren’t pinned anymore. There’s nothing you can do to make him stop, but. You feel the overwhelming urge to do something.

You reach up and slap him. Right across his pretty face, turning it sharply aside just as his cock buries itself all the way inside your cunt, reaching farther than you thought anyone ever could. His eyes widen, and his grip on your face tightens to a vise. You think that just once, you’ve managed to shock him.

Your faint sense of victory fades when you feel his cock pulse unmistakably inside you. 

“Oh -” he sighs blissfully as he releases inside you, and you go limp as he collapses into your shoulder. A moment later, he turns his head and whispers in your ear. “Very interesting.” You can practically feel his grin radiating against your neck. “I’m definitely keeping you, now. So many things to try…” You squirm as he shifts on top of you, his face hovering right over your own. “And you’re gonna help me with every single one.”