#can't wait until spike gets back :)

[andthesunwillalwaysshine]

funny how in the end of tvd the only character (that was around, i will always love my girl katherine) i could stand was damon, now the only characters in btvs i can stand are buffy and spike :) :(

[homosexual-fanfiction]

this might take a while

[sanguineterrain]

knight in shining helmet | jason todd

Summary: You're a princess who's visiting Gotham City. You weren't loving it to begin with—then you of course had to get kidnapped. Needless to say, your expectations of the night are in hell. You're hoping, at least, that you'll be rescued by the famous Batman. Instead, it's the infamous Red Hood that finds you.

Pairing: Jason Todd x princess!fem!reader 

Word count: 6.6k

Warnings/tags: kidnapping, rescue, reader and jason don't get along at first, violence, drugging, meet-ugly, 7-eleven food as a courting strategy, kissing, softie jason (he always makes an appearance somehow!), strangers to...not-so-strangers.

the divider

You suppose that, for a princess, you ought to have expected a kidnapping to pan out at least once in your life. 

You just didn't think it would happen tonight. In Gotham City. A place you weren't loving to begin with. 

“Unhand me!” you scream as soon as your taker's filthy, sweaty hand leaves your face. “You'll be executed for this!”

You're not actually sure of Gotham's death penalty policy, but you feel like it's something you should throw in. In any case, the three men who've dragged you away, tied you up, and bruised you in the process, should be a little more afraid of getting caught. 

“Batman will find you,” you add. “He'll save me.” You've heard great tales of Gotham's hero. If anyone can help you, it's him. 

That makes one of them pause. But the ringleader sneers at you. “If he finds us. He's got a lot on his plate every night, ya Majesty.”

“I am a priority guest in this city, of course he would—”

“Shut her up,” the leader snaps, and suddenly, you're being gagged. Disgusting. Completely unsanitary. You don’t want to imagine if the gag has ever been washed.

You keep screaming and fighting through the gag until a needle pricks your neck. Your terror spikes as you realize there's suddenly an ultimatum to the fear: either Batman finds you in time, or he doesn't.

That's your last thought as the drug renders you unconscious. 

When you awaken, it's still nighttime. Nearly pitch black, except for a dim lightbulb in the center of the room. It looks like you're in some kind of warehouse. You can't see much of anything and it makes you claustrophobic. Your head aches and your vision is blurry, and your cheek is pressed against a grimy floor. You just want to go home.

You try to sit up first, but that nearly makes you throw up, and you do not want to throw up through this ratty gag. So you swallow the feeling and close your eyes, waiting until the nausea passes. You open your eyes and they begin to adjust to the darkness. You’re alone, which confuses you.

Then you spot the explosives hooked up at the bottom of your dress.

The good news is that your kidnappers aren’t here. The bad news is that the reason they aren’t here is because they can remotely explode this place and you inside of it. If they don’t get the ransom they’re no doubt demanding, tonight will be your first and last night in Gotham. 

Another thought chills you to your bone: what if the explosives are set to go off whether they get the ransom or not?

You squeeze your eyes shut as the tears come. You’re going to die.

But wait. Maybe not. Surely, Batman is looking for you. And his young, brightly-colored companion. You never understood that color palette choice.

They’ll save you. Your father has no doubt alerted authorities. You’re the most important person in the city tonight! Of course people are looking for you. 

Yes, you’ll be saved, the criminals will be punished to the highest extent of the law, and you’ll be escorted back to your hotel where you can take a long, luxurious bath. That’ll be very nice. 

You’ll also never visit Gotham again, that is for sure. 

The door to the warehouse rolls open with a boom. You flinch and squint, trying to make out the figure. If it’s your kidnapper, you want to act like you’re still asleep. You think you saw that trick in a film at the cinema you snuck out to watch when you were young. You didn’t catch the whole film, though—you were found out by your guards before you could. Maybe you wouldn’t be in this situation if you’d watched the whole film!

As the figure gets closer, you realize firstly that he’s a lot bigger than your kidnappers. You sigh in relief. Batman.

“‘Lo?” asks a gruff voice. “Anybody here?”

You shout through your gag. You can’t make out a face, but it’s alright. Relief floods you. You’re saved.

Your savior jogs to you. You tilt your head as you make out a… red helmet? With glowing eyes?

Wait a minute.

“Holy shit,” Not-Batman says. He pulls out your gag first. “Y’okay?”

Realization strikes you; you recall a story one of the party guests shared earlier in the night about a crime lord and his terror on Gotham.

"You're that terrible gangster that left a duffle bag of heads!" you blurt.

"In the flesh," he says, tapping the barrel of his gun to his helmet in a salute. Red Hood. “You don’t look very happy to see me, all things considered.”

“I don’t want your help!” you say, wriggling away from him. “I’m in an alliance with The Batman!”

He tilts his head. “‘S that so? What alliance would that be? Beauty Pageant Runaways For Bats?”

“I am not a beauty pageant contestant,” you say hotly. “I am a princess, and I have a small militia looking for me.”

He kneels in front of you, holstering his gun. His one of many, many guns. Your skin itches with sweat and adrenaline as he approaches. Those glowing eyes in his helmet flip your stomach. This is all wrong. You're supposed to be saved by a hero, not an outlaw. A criminal.

“Princess, huh?” Hood nods. “Ah, yeah. I heard somethin’ about that. They took you from the Plaza. Just my luck that I’d run into ya.”

“You mean, you weren’t actively looking for me?” you ask in a small voice. 

“Nope. You’ve got every vigilante and cop in the city looking for you, Your Highness. I came in here ‘cause I smelled motor oil.” 

Now that he’s found you, what does he plan to do?

“Are… are you going to release me?” you ask.

“Depends. Is this place rigged to blow?”

“My dress,” you say, unsure whether you should let him know about the explosives. A man who leaves severed heads in a duffel bag doesn’t seem wrapped up too tightly. 

“Hm?” Hood lifts your skirt slightly. He whistles. “Damn. This is some excellent work. Whoever did this is a pro demolitions expert.”

His praise doesn’t comfort you, oddly enough.

“Is it live?” you ask.

“Doesn’t look like it. And I’ve got a lot of experience with explosives. Just stay still for now.”

Hood squats and pulls out a knife. You shift. He's bigger than you even like this, crouched at your level. His shoulders nearly block your entire view. 

“Who were they?” he asks.

“Who was who?”

“The people that took you.”

“I don't know. They were wearing masks. Three men,” you say, frozen as he takes the knife to your feet.

“Mm.”

Hood begins to cut the ropes around your ankles. You delicately point your feet, unsure if he'll slip and get you. 

Your lip curls. "Where's Batman? Or that boy who works with him? Aren't they in charge of this city? I want to speak to one of them."

“I don’t work for the Bats,” he says, an edge to his words.

“Well, I don’t feel comfortable with you rescuing me,” you say. “You’re a criminal.”

Hood stops cutting and looks at you. "Y'want Batman? Fine. I don't mind letting you wait around for the Bat.”

He pockets the knife and rises, walking out of the warehouse and disappearing. Just like that. Your heart jumps.

"Wait!" you shout, squirming in your binds. "Wait, come back!"

But it's silent. Panic digs its claws into your chest.

"Red Hood! Red Hood, come back! Please!"

You begin to cry out of desperation, tears dripping onto your already soiled dress. You try to pull your feet apart, but the rope isn't cut enough and all you do is worsen the burns around your ankles.

You bow your head and cry onto the floor. You just want to go home. You want your goose feather pillows and Egyptian cotton ten-thousand thread count sheets. More than that, you never want to return to this stupid city.

"Are you cryin'?"

Your head shoots up. Hood stands over you, arms folded. 

"You-you came back," you say, voice wobbly.

He shrugs. "I had an inkling that you had a change of heart, princess.”

You look away. "You left me.”

"I did,” he says. “But as much as you might deserve abandonment, I'm duty-bound to rescue everyone. No matter how obnoxious of a Batman fan they are."

"I'm not a fan. I just didn't want the morally corrupt, violent drug runner to save me."

He leans down and snaps away the ropes from your ankles—a feat of strength that doesn't go unnoticed. Then he saws the ones around your wrists. "Yeah, well, I don't do that anymore, and for such a pretty face, you suck at sweet talking."

He tosses the rope aside and pockets the knife. You rub your wrists and attempt to sit up. This time, you don’t want to throw up. Success! 

“Anything hurt?” he asks. 

“My legs,” you say miserably. 

“Okay, let me rephrase: anything that'll make you bleed out in the next ten seconds?”

“Um… no.”

“Fantastic. I can probably getcha back to your hotel in an hour.” 

You hold out your arms expectantly. He tuts.

“I don’t give hugs until the third kidnapping. Fourth one is free.”

You huff. “You expect me to walk like this? They took my shoes! Gotham is so uncouth.”

“And what am I s’posed to do about that?” Hood asks. “I look like a Payless to you?”

“I don’t know what that is,” you say. “Don’t you vigilantes have a protocol to follow? I cannot possibly walk through this filthy warehouse on my bare feet. I’ll catch a virus! You’ll have to carry me.”

Hood lets out a full-bellied laugh. It’s somewhat eerie through his modulator. You lift your chin, maintaining your composure. 

“Oh my God! Highness, you’re a diamond-encrusted piece of work. I don’t carry anybody unless they’re unconscious and I like ‘em a lot. It’s a short list.”

Your brows furrow. “I’m a guest in your city, and I’ve been kidnapped! The least you can do—”

“The least I can do is leave you to rot here,” Hood says, tone cutting. “Or let your kidnappers come back and finish the job. You aren’t in whatever palace they carted you out of; you’re in fuckin’ Gotham, and if y’want my help, you’re gonna suck it up and walk.”

You look away, tears brimming once more. You sniffle. 

“You don't have to be so mean,” you say, voice watery. “I’ve had a difficult night.” 

It's quiet for a few moments. You've never cried as much as you have tonight, especially not in front of a stranger. A dangerous stranger. 

“...Look, I think I got some spare boots,” Hood finally says. “Stay here.”

“Where would I go?” you mumble. Whether he hears you or not, he doesn’t reply, stalking out of the warehouse. He returns thirty seconds later with a pair of ugly, black, man boots. 

“Used?!” you ask, voice high.

“Lightly, Your Majesty. They’re my spares. Here.”

Hood tosses the boots at you. You stare at them like he’s flung a pair of rats at you. He taps his wrist.

“Time’s a-ticking, princess. I’m on a schedule. I can always let you wait for Batman. He’ll find ya. Eventually.”

So you put on the boots. 

You attempt to stand next, but the drugs and binds have made your limbs weak. You try and fail to get up twice before Hood hooks his arms under yours and hauls you up without a sweat. You squeal, fingers digging into his brown leather jacket. 

He towers over you, doubly intimidating now that you're standing. 

“Got it?” he asks, arms slipping away. 

You definitely don’t have it, and you wobble backward. Hood grabs you again, hand on your back. 

“Whoa. Easy.” Hood cups your face, a little rough. You squirm, mind flooded with all the germs that are probably on his gloves. “Look a'me. Look—stop fighting, Jesus Christ.”

“This is no way to treat a princess!”

“Yeah, I missed that day of training,” he says dryly. “Stay still, I'm tryna see if your pupils are dilated.” 

“Your grip hurts!”

Hood loosens his grip and manages to keep you still long enough to examine your eyes. He hums and lets go.

“Seems like you’re still feeling the effects. Should wear off soon. Now…”

Hood steps back, but not so far that you can’t grab onto him should you fall again. He gives your dress a onceover. 

“So that’s not gonna work.” He takes out his knife again. Your eyes widen. 

“What on earth are you doing with that?” you ask, taking a small step backwards.

“Cutting your dress,” he says, like it’s a perfectly normal thing to do.

You gasp, backing away. “No you will not!”

“Princess—”

“This dress is one-of-a-kind, handmade for tonight’s gala. You’re not going near it! It cost seventeen thousand euros!” 

“Is it worth more than your life?” Hood snaps. “I don’t have any spare clothes and I’m not dragging a ballgown with three pounds of C-4 attached to it around. You have to be able to move and you have to get on my bike. Now quit whining.”

You sulk as he cuts and tears the bottom layer of your gown. He isn’t as savage about it as you expect: the cut is neat and could even be salvaged in the hands of a good seamstress. The night air makes your legs prickle with goosebumps. Then his words register.

“Bike?” you ask as Hood sets your dress remains aside. You’ll grieve for your dress privately.

“Mmhm.”

“I thought you had a Batmobile.”

“That’s Batman’s car. Hence the name. I have a bike ‘cause I’m a morally corrupt, violent, drug runner.”

Your nose wrinkles. “Can’t we take a taxi? Or call a car service?”

Hood snorts. “No one’s driving to this part of Gotham at this hour. It’s my bike or nothing. Or, of course, you can wait for Batsy.”

He starts walking and you hurry to follow. Hood’s strides are long and you’re unsteady in his too-big boots.

“Can you please slow down? These boots are enormous!”

He doesn’t say anything, but he does slow down, waiting until you catch up before leading you to his bike. It’s a nice motorcycle, you suppose, if you were into that thing. You’ve always thought motorcycles were a stupid risk to take. Being on the road is dangerous enough—why remove the comfort and protection of a car?

Hood’s bike is shiny and cherry red, just like his helmet. He produces a proper motorcycle helmet from nowhere and hands it to you. 

“Are you sure this is safe?” you ask, inspecting the helmet. It looks fairly clean and unused. 

“Hasn’t killed me yet, and I’ve been dead once.”

Is that his idea of a joke?

“You’ll be fine,” Hood says at your silence. “I’ll go slow.”

“Alright,” you say, putting on the helmet. It smells oddly pleasant, like spicy cologne. “Very slow.”

“Yeah, yeah, very slow. C’mon.”

Hood kicks a leg over the bike and straddles it, all muscle memory. His muscles flex as he bends his legs. He pats the space behind him. 

Cautiously, you attempt to do the same, but you soon realize that doing that exact move in a dress is probably not the smartest. You hold onto the seat with both hands instead and clumsily try to fold a leg over. It doesn’t work.

“Yo, Bambi. This century would be good.”

“I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle!” you say, glaring at the back of his helmet. “You could help me.”

“For fuck's—” 

Hood turns around, grabs the back of your calf, and pulls. Your legs part and you shriek, certain you’re about to flash him. He holds your waist as you flail so that you don’t bang into him as you sit. 

“What is wrong with you?” you hiss, smoothing down your dress.

“Re-lax, I didn’t see anything.”

“This is highly undignified—”

“Yeah, we don't really do dignified in Gotham, princess. Comfy?”

“No.”

“Mm. Hold my waist.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Beg all ya want.” Hood takes your arms and wraps them tightly around his waist. He’s warm and, oddly enough, soft despite his bulk. “You’re drugged and unsteady. If y’don’t hold on, you’re gonna fly off. Press up against me and hold tight.”

“Go slow,” you say again, obediently holding his waist.

“Yeah, I’ll go slow,” he says. 

“Do you promise?”

“Promise.”

Hood turns the ignition. The bike roars to life, louder than you expected. You suck in a breath as he revs the engine and starts off.

True to his word (and what a flimsy word it is), Hood goes slow. He takes gentle, easy turns and breaks at all the stop signs, even though this part of the city is essentially abandoned at this hour. You’re able to study the streets, twinkling streetlights a little too bright to your recovering eyes. But you look anyway, shocked at the dilapidated buildings and uneven pavement. You’re definitely not in the Gotham you were earlier tonight. It hardly looks like the same city.

You turn your attention to your savior. It feels like an odd word to use for the Red Hood, whom you’ve heard enough about tonight. Your father had warned you excessively about what a dangerous area this was, and who exactly made it so dangerous. 

But a savior is exactly what Hood has been to you. You decide that, despite his roughness, he still deserves a good reward. Perhaps a Hoodmobile. Or new boots.

Your rescue is going smoothly until you cross the bridge. That’s when another biker turns onto the road behind you. 

“Shit,” Hood says, and you’re startled that you can hear him so clearly despite the noise. It’s like he’s in your head. “We’re being tailed.”

Well, that’s not good. You turn around briefly but you can’t make out your follower; you’re too scared to move on the bike.

But then you hear the bike behind you speed up. 

“Motherfucker,” Hood says, and speeds up. Your arms tighten into a death grip. 

“Hold on,” he says, like you'd do anything otherwise. 

Hood speeds up and takes a sharp left turn. You tense and yelp, squeezing your eyes shut. He takes several winding turns and you keep your eyes shut through all of them. The nausea has returned and you’d prefer not to ruin the inside of his helmet with your stomach contents.

“We lose him?” he asks when the road levels off and it doesn’t feel so much like you’re on a rollercoaster.

“Um…” you begin, and chance turning around.

It’s clear for a few seconds until…

Well, to echo Hood’s sentiment: motherfucker.

“He’s there!” you yell, and Hood growls.

“The helmets are mic’d, you don’t have to shout,” he says, leaning into a left turn. 

“I see him!” you say, and grab one of Hood’s holstered guns. He scrambles to grab it but misses, surprise slowing him down.

“What the fuck are you doin’?!”

You ignore him and take off the safety. Moving your free arm up to Hood’s neck, you fire. He curses up a storm, throwing in a few words you’ve never even heard. 

The shots go wide; one dents a parked car, and one hits a stop sign. 

“You’re fuckin’ nuts!” Hood yells and snatches the gun out of your hand. 

But your tail falls back, evidently spooked enough by you and your poor aim. He turns on a side street and disappears.

“He’s gone! We’ve lost him!” you say happily. 

“Are you insane?” 

You wince at his volume. “The helmets are mic’d, you know.”

“You’re so—”

Hood cuts himself off and pulls sharply onto the sidewalk. He dismounts and pushes the kickstand down hard. Then he turns to you, chest heaving.

“Don’t ever fucking do that again. Are you crazy? You could’ve gotten us killed!”

“It worked, didn’t it?” you ask, putting out your arms. “We lost him!”

“No, we didn’t. All we did was throw him off our trail a little. We gotta walk the rest of the way now because he probably fell back to get more guys to follow us. But that’s not the point: what you did was insanely risky and stupid. You don’t know how to use a gun and you could’ve hurt yourself.”

You stay silent, chewing on his words. Hood isn’t wrong, he’s just… loud about it.

“Do you understand me?” he snaps. 

You don't reply. 

“I need a yes.”

“...I wanted to help.”

Hood sighs. “Yeah, well… just don’t. I’m good at what I do and I’ll get you back in one piece. But you gotta trust me.”

“Okay,” you say quietly. You feel small, but you don't want to cry in front of him again and confirm that you really are just a spoiled, whiny princess. “I'm sorry, Red Hood.”

You sit down on the curb, feeling exhausted. Tonight is awful. 

It's quiet for a long moment. Then Hood says, “Don't cry.”

Your jaw works as you swallow hard. “I'm not.” You turn your head so he won't see.  

“Christ on toast,” he mumbles above you. “This is exactly why I don't do rescue missions—”

You sniffle. “I'm not crying.”

“—’Cause I'm the world's biggest asshole,” he finishes, voice miles softer. 

Hood sinks onto the curb next to you. He scoots in just enough so that your shoulders brush against each other. 

“Look, ‘m a jerk. The Bats are better at handling civilians and being nice. You got the potty mouth with a bad attitude.” 

You rub your eyes. “I don't like yelling.” 

“Yeah,” Hood says quietly. “Okay. I'll try not to yell unless you're in immediate danger. But you can’t pull stunts like that. Deal?”

You nod. “I won't fire any more of your guns.”

He snorts. “Yeah, no kidding. Where’d you learn how to shoot, anyway? I mean, y’didn’t do it well, but you did it. Not half-bad for your first time in Gotham.”

“My father wanted me to learn gun sports,” you say. “I learned how to take the safety off and point and shoot, but I refused to do any more lessons after my instructor shot a duck for target practice. I think guns are uncivilized and destructive, and I don’t condone killing animals for sport.”

“Uncivilized unless you're getting tailed by kidnappers?” You think you detect a smile in his question. 

“Everything has its exceptions,” you say primly. 

“Ain't that the truth. C'mon, we should get moving. We're, ‘scuse the saying, sitting ducks out here.”

Hood stands first and offers you a hand. You take it, letting him pull you up. He does that so easily. It makes your spine tingle. 

“How far are we from my hotel?” you ask.

“‘Bout two miles. If I had my gear I'd call for an assist,” he says apologetically. “Wasn’t planning to save lost princesses tonight.”

“I don't suppose there's any chance that you'll carry me, is there?”

“Pretty and funny,” Hood says. “You're the whole package, beauty queen.”

Your snarky reply is cut off by your stomach growling. Your eyes widen. 

“Pardon me,” you say, mortified. 

“What, ‘cause you're hungry?” Hood asks. “‘S a normal human condition.”

“You don't know anything about royal manners,” you say, but you're relieved. Your father would give you a tight, deadly look if you were hungry in public. 

“No, I really don't. Born and bred Gotham, baby.” 

“Showing any signs of hunger or thirst around company is highly undignified,” you say. 

“Being a princess sounds exhausting.”

No arguments there. 

Hood starts walking. You scramble to follow, and he seems to remember your shorter stride and slows down. 

“There's a pretty decent 7-Eleven nearby,” he says. “I'd take ya to my favorite diner, but we're on a tight schedule. Those guys won’t be far behind.”

“A seven and eleven? Oh, I've heard of those!” you say. 

“I’m… glad you're so excited about convenience stores?”

“I saw it in a film once. My father didn’t catch me watching this one. It looked so rugged, eating in a convenience store and fighting crime afterward. I've never been to one.”

“I know I shouldn't be surprised considering how much your dress cost but it does kinda blow my mind that you've never tasted anything but the finest cuisine,” Hood says. “Wait, did you say your dad didn’t catch you?”

You hum. “He doesn’t like me watching films that aren’t pre-approved.”

“Wow. Y’know, I could pirate you some movies if y’want. I know a great website for it.”

You laugh. “That’s alright. I manage to sneak out to the cinema more than I used to, now that he’s older.”

“Pretty sneaky, beauty queen.” He sounds impressed. 

You shrug, trying to hide your pride. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”

You turn on the corner and he leads you through a residential area. A few people outside of their apartments stare at you, but when they see Hood, they relax. 

“Red!” a little boy shouts from a fire escape. He waves excitedly. Hood waves back.

“Hope you’re listening to your ma,” Hood calls to him, mock-stern. To anyone else—to you—it would be unnerving. 

But the boy grins. “I am!”

“Then why aren't ya in bed, huh?” 

The boy shrugs. “Not tired. Who's the lady?”

“The lady is a princess, so be nice,” Hood says.

“Whoa!” The boy gapes at you. You wave at him and he jumps up from the window. 

“Mom!” he yells. “Red Hood found a princess!”

You giggle as Hood leads you away. 

He shakes his head. “Kids.” He sounds terribly fond. 

You stare at his back for a moment. 

“They like you,” you say. “You keep them safe. But you're also a friend.”

“Helps to earn their trust,” he says gruffly. 

You walk a little more in silence. 

“I was wrong about you, Hood,” you say. He doesn't look at you. 

“Lotta people are. Nothin’ new.” 

No, it probably isn't. 

“‘Kay, here we are. C’mon. We gotta be fast, alright?”

“Alright,” you say, following him into the 7-Eleven. 

“Hey, Benny,” Hood says to the tired cashier behind the counter.

Benny nods. “Long night?”

“You got no idea.” He gestures to you. “She’s a princess.”

“Sweet,” Benny says. “What’s up?”

“How do you do?” you say politely. 

Hood leads you to the rolling hot dogs and other cylindrical foods under the heat lamps. You frown.

“I have had a hot dog before,” you say. “I’m not that sheltered.”

“Yeah, but have ya had a buffalo ranch roller? My brother and I used to get these after patrol. That with a blue raspberry slushie? Heavenly after getting thrown into a dumpster.”

“Well, you’ve gotten me this far, so I suppose I’ll trust you,” you say.

“I’m flattered. Benny, my usual.”

Benny gives a thumbs-up and puts the ‘roller’ in a paper bag. Meanwhile, Hood takes you to the back where the slushie machine is. You watch as he fills a plastic cup with electric blue sludge. Your brows raise.

“Why is it that color?” you ask.

“Tasty chemicals,” Hood says cheerily. “It won’t kill ya, I promise.”

“That would be counterintuitive at this point,” you say. 

“I appreciate your faith in me, princess.”

You return to Benny, who rings up the food. “Five twenty-seven.”

Hood looks at you expectantly. You look at him.

“What?” you ask.

“This is the part where you pay,” he says.

“A princess never carries money on her person,” you say, like it’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard.

“You–” Hood looks at Benny and sighs. “Why am I not surprised?”

He pays and you take your treats, trotting out the door. 

“Thank you, kind sir!” you say as Hood waves. 

“See ya, Ben.”

You hold out your slushie for Hood to take while you work on your fried goodie.

“I’m not a cupholder,” he says, but he takes the cup anyway.

“It’s warm!” you say, delighted. “Let me take a bite.”

Hood patiently waits as you bite and chew. You hum.

“Good?” he asks.

“I like it,” you say. “It’s unusual. Is this chicken?”

“So they say,” Hood says. “Try the slushie.”

You take the cup and first take a small sip. It’s cold and sweet and slightly sour and probably full of enough sugar to rot your teeth out of your head. You love it.

“This is wonderful,” you say. 

He laughs. “Yup. Told ya, nothin’ like this combo. It’s a classic. C’mon, let’s get moving.”

You walk and eat, and it definitely improves your night, having something in your belly. 

“This is just like Roman Holiday,” you say.

Hood snorts. “I don’t think we watched the same movie.”

“It has a likeness. You’re Gregory Peck.”

“Yeah, sure. If Gregory Peck was a street fighter, then yeah. I’m Greg fuckin’ Peck.”

“No, you’re right. You’re much younger than he was in that movie. How old are you?” you ask.

“Twenty-four.”

“Really? Why are you doing this?”

“Took a career test.”

You bump his shoulder. “Seriously, Hood. You’re young. You’ve so much potential. I can tell that you’re smart.”

“Hence why I do this,” he says.

You tut, shaking your head. “That’s ridiculous. You could do more. Be more.”

“You’re just fulla charm, aren’t ya?” Hood says. 

Your next step is hesitant. Hood keeps walking. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way,” you say. “I guess I assumed…”

“Yeah, I know. You assume a lot, princess. And you’re wrong.”

“You made assumptions about me! You thought that I was stupid and naive and I’m not.”

Hood stops, turns. “Maybe I like doing what I do, huh? Ever think of that? I meant it when I said I’m not a criminal anymore. I help people.”

“I know that,” you say quietly. “I see how the citizens treat you. They like you. You care for them greatly. I just… I just meant that you could try new things too. If you wanted to.”

He’s quiet for a bit. You keep walking. 

“I didn’t think you were stupid,” he eventually says.

You scoff. “Yes, you did.”

“No, I didn’t. Yeah, I thought you were a little… sheltered. But you’re smart. You’re certainly tougher than your dad gives you credit for.”

You roll your eyes. “He still thinks I’m six years old. It takes me getting kidnapped to see a city.”

“Pretty shitty tour.”

You smile behind his back. “Oh, I don’t know. The tour guide is alright.”

Hood stops. When he doesn’t speak, you approach.

“Hood?”

He suddenly puts a hand over your mouth and drags you backwards into an alleyway. Your yelp is muffled. Hood puts a finger to where his mouth would be under his helmet.

That’s when you hear voices.

“—single fuckin’ clue. She could be in the fuckin’ Atlantic by now. Halfway to China!”

“China’s on the other side, dumbass.”

You look up at Hood, eyes wide. 

Those are your kidnappers' voices.

He seems to understand and nods. He squeezes your arm and removes his hand from your mouth. He points to himself and points outside, then points to you and points down. 

You assume that means stay put and don’t try to shoot anyone with his gun. You can take a hint.

Hood slinks out of the alley. You peek your head out to look, curiosity overtaking fear. Besides, you trust Hood. You figure with a reputation like his, he can more than handle his own. 

“Nice night, ain’t it?” he says. 

The two men turn, looking close to pissing themselves. Good.

“Hood, we weren’t doing nothin’!” one says.

“Yeah, Ricky and I are clean!”

“Oh, really? So you had nothing to do with the kidnapping of a certain visiting princess.”

“We was nowhere near the Plaza!” Ricky cries.

The other elbows his friend. Before you can blink, Hood has them both down on the ground, pistols pointed at their necks. 

“You were gonna hurt her,” Hood says, and now there’s no trace of humor in his voice. “That poor, sweet princess. Strapping C-4 to her like a fuckin’ bank vault. Drugging her, tying her up. You fuckin’ animals.”

“It wasn’t our idea, it was Bobby’s!” Ricky cries. 

“Shut up, Ricky!”

A shot rings out and you flinch. Ricky starts sobbing. Red seeps from his leg.

“The only reason I’m not killing you two right now is because I want a word with your boss. But make no mistake.” Hood leans in. “You’ll pay for hurting the princess. I’ll make sure of it.”

With two final hits, Hood knocks them out cold. The sudden silence is loud. 

He looks at you then, those eerie eyes glowing. He beckons you out. You go. 

You look down at the unconscious bodies. “You don’t have to kill them.”

“What?”

“I mean, I’d rather you didn’t. You shouldn’t have that on your conscience.”

“They kidnapped you. They would’ve hurt you had their boss ordered it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. “I don’t want you to bear that burden, Hood.”

“‘S not a burden,” he says, gently taking your wrist. Your eyes fly open. “If it’ll make you feel better, safer, anything. It’s no burden.”

“Okay,” you say quietly, frightened at how pleased a part of you is at his words.

“I’ll tie ‘em up and send for ‘em when we get back. One second.”

You watch as Hood drags their bodies into the alley like they’re sacks of feathers. He handcuffs them to a drainpipe and ties their feet and gags them. 

“So they can see what it feels like,” Hood says, dusting his hands. You can’t help your small smile. 

“Ready?” he asks.

You look up at the starless sky, suddenly exhausted. Your limbs feel like lead. “I guess so.”

Hood looks into the distance, then back at you. He sighs.

“Climb on my back.”

You blink. “Pardon me?”

“You’re pardoned.” Hood shrugs. “I can tell you’re tired. We don’t have far to go.”

“Won’t I be too heavy?” you ask. “All that way…”

“Princess, I’m honestly offended. I once carried Batman and my brother to Bludhaven. I’m more than capable.”

“But what about your rule?” you ask. “About carrying people.”

“Turns out you’re not so bad,” he says. “Get on ‘fore I change my mind.”

So you climb onto Hood’s back. He secures you easily, and you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Don’t choke me out,” he says. “Otherwise we’re both goin’ down.”

You smile and relax on his back. “Thank you.”

“Mm.”

At first, it feels like an eternity, waiting for the familiar Plaza sign. You can’t complain, though: Hood is warm and being carried by him is even better than riding on his bike. 

You blink, startled at the thought. What are you even talking about? This is the Red Hood. You were terrified of him a few hours ago. 

And yet, the rhythmic bumping and Hood’s solid figure lulls you to sleep. You don’t even realize until you’re being nudged and a voice pulls you back to consciousness. 

“Hey.”

You’re gently jostled awake. You blink blearily, yawning into Hood’s shoulder.

Oh. Right. You’re on his back.

“Hm?” 

“Ride ends here,” he says. “We’re at the Plaza.”

“Oh.” Sleepily, you try to climb off. Hood sets you on your feet. Embarrassment fills you as you become more awake.

“I’m so sorry,” you say. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you. You could’ve woken me! I—”

Hood holds up a hand. “Hey, chill out. ‘S fine. You had a long night, I get it.”

“Right. I, um…” You look up at the hotel. The top floor windows disappear in the layer of fog that’s settled over the city. You wonder what Hood’s windows look like. 

“I’m gonna track down your main kidnapper and make sure they don’t hurt anyone else. I’ll kick his ass, at the very least.”

You look at Hood, blinking. “Oh. That’s very nice of you, thank you.”

He shrugs. “‘S my job.”

You nod clumsily. “Right, of course. I could give you something in return, though. Money or, um, firearms. A car, perhaps?”

He snorts. You smile shyly. 

“Cute,” he says, but he’s not being mean. “No, that’s okay. I’m pretty set, actually. Doing what I do is surprisingly lucrative.”

“Surely there’s something—”

“Seriously, princess, no charge.”

You bite your lip. Is this too bold? Yes, definitely.

“What about a kiss?”

At first, you think Hood hasn’t heard you. Then he turns to face you in a way that tells you no, he definitely heard you. 

“Ex-cuse me?”

“Um.” You scratch your neck. “Well, princesses kiss their knights goodbye, don’t they?” you ask, but it’s weak. It’s stupid. You’re so young.

You think he’s going to just walk away. That would be the kindest thing to do in response to your blunder.

“I’m sorry, forgive me. That was a terrible joke,” you blurt.

“No, it wasn’t.”

He steps forward, close enough to kiss you if he didn’t have the helmet. You look up at him, heart pounding.

“Wasn’t terrible or wasn’t a joke?” you ask, blood roaring in your ears.

Hood’s quiet. 

“Haven’t done much kissing, to be honest with ya,” he finally says, not answering your question. 

You shake your head. “Nor I.”

“Mm. And y’wanna kiss me? Don’t offer ‘cause you think you owe me.”

“I want to kiss you, Hood.”

He tilts his head. “Y’wouldn’t be kissing a knight. More like kissing a toad.”

You frown. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, I’m no Greg Peck. And I’m no hero either.”

“Do you give this speech to everyone who wants to kiss you?”

“You’re the first one who’s wanted to,” he says.

You inhale sharply. “Oh.”

“Uh-huh.”

You wait. He waits. You both wait for the other to back out. You don’t. Neither does he.

“Can’t believe a princess wants to kiss me,” he mumbles.

And then he covers your eyes with his hand.

You blink, lashes sweeping over his glove. You hear a click, then a hiss of air. His helmet hits the ground with a dull thud. 

Hood gingerly holds your chin with his free hand. You keep your eyes closed even though he’s covering them, out of respect.

His mouth is warm and so, so gentle. You barely feel his lips at first, so you press a little harder. Hood doesn’t know what to do with his mouth, resting it on yours, so you take the lead, following what you’ve seen others do and what you’ve watched on television.

You reach up and hold his face. He makes a soft noise in the back of his throat. You stroke his stubbled jaw, feel strong cheekbones and the ends of curls above his ears. 

“Your Highness? Your Highness!”

The hand leaves your face so quickly, your eyes stay closed for a second longer, slow to react. Then you open your eyes and see the empty street.

Your lips tingle with heat. It’s all noise around you, policemen and your guards flitting around you, asking questions, alarmed by your torn dress. 

You exhale, disappointment overtaking you.

Your father is in front of you, taking your wrists. “Can you hear me? Doctor, I need a—”

“I’m fine,” you say, finally meeting his eyes. “I’m alright, Father.”

He exhales and pulls you into a hug. It startles you. He pulls away before you can hug him back.

“I am so glad you’re alright,” he says. “The police say they saw a figure with you. Who was that? Was he your kidnapper?”

“No, not at all,” you say, staring out into the street beyond. Your lips are buzzing. “He was my hero.”

[mameillieureennemie]

author's note: an idea sprung up in my head where vi and reader are co-workers who hate each other but ACTUALLY—

summary: vi's been a constant pain in your ass for ages; a co-worker who lives to irritate you mercilessly. until things come to a head and a secret is unraveled.

cw: modern day, co-workers, office au, vi x f!reader

"I fucking hate you."

"Oh, that hurts my heart, princess."

"Don't call me that."

"What? Princess?"

Your pen nearly snaps in half due to the death grip you have it in. You're absolutely furious; your rage is a burning force bubbling away at the pit of your stomach. It's hot enough to have your heart racing, thundering loudly in your chest as your blood roars in your ears.

"I swear to god, Violet," you hiss dangerously, your eyes narrowing into thin slits. "Call me that one more time, and I'll strangle you with my bare hands."

Vi raises a brow, frustratingly unaffected. "Promise?" She says, lips curving into a mocking smile, and oh, your vision goes red for a second.

Your mind drifts to all the horrible things you could do to Vi. In graphic detail. And that seems to calm you down, which should be concerning. But you can't afford to get into an all-out fight with her, in the middle of a work day, while your co-workers mill about.

Knowing them, they're just waiting for this to happen. And you can't afford to give them that satisfaction, so you take a deep breath, attempting to cool your system down.

Then you hand over the documents to Vi, emotionless, as you say, "Deal with this."

Vi, noticing that you've tapped out from your usual brawl, eyes you for a second before replying, "Sure thing."

With that, you turn to walk away so you can leave this space. But before you can even make it to the door, Vi's opening her big mouth to say:

"Princess."

It's hard for you not to lose your mind after that.

"Is this going to be a common occurrence?" Mel asks, already tired as she looks between the two of you. "I mean, we already had the fiasco a week ago where you two were yelling at each other in the break room—"

"She started it," you interrupt with a mumble, shying away when Mel aims a warning look your way.

"I don't care who stared it," Mel retorts before leaning back in her chair with a heavy sigh. "I just expect more from my employees. I expect harmonious working relationships, not arguments that turn into screaming matches. If this happens again, there's going to be serious consequences. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Ms Medarda." You and Vi grumble in unison, and you're soon walking out of her office. You immediately start towards your desk, wanting to get far from Vi because your anger has yet to subside. It wasn't your fault that this happened; all Vi had to do was take the documents you handed her, but no, she had to turn it into something else.

And now Mel's got her eye on you, which is the last thing you need and—

"Hey."

That's Vi's voice, calling out to you, and the last thing you want to hear. So you keep striding, hurrying your pace to keep the space between you two. But Vi's fast; she's closing the distance and wrapping a big hand around your arm.

The touch is enough to spike your annoyance a decent amount.

You rip your arm out of her grip, baring teeth as you grit out, "What?"

Vi raises both hands up to show she means no harm. Then she's stuffing them into her pockets, sighing before she says, "Look, I'm sorry."

That throws you through a loop.

"...What?" You ask again, only less hostile and more confused.

"I'm sorry," Vi repeats easily. "I...didn't mean to rile you up so much. It's just..." She struggles for a second. "It's like when you pull on a girl's pigtails because she's cute and annoying the fuck out of her makes her talk to you?"

That throws you through another loop.

You blink a few times, trying to compute what she just said before you go, "You're fucking with me."

Vi huffs a laugh. "No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are," you argue. "Because you can't be telling me that the reason you've been antagonising me is because you think I'm cute."

Vi shrugs, giving a lazy smile. "Yeah, that's exactly it."

You stare at her for a moment, a rush of emotions going through you. Then all you're feeling is a mixture of frustration and amusement.

"What are you? 8?" You retort, unable to think of anything else because so much has been given to you at once. The biggest being that Vi's just kind of admitted to having a crush on you and has been using preschool antics to catch your attention. Regardless of that attention being full-on rage which could have resulted in murder.

"Give me some credit," Vi replies, rolling her eyes. "I'm, at least, 10."

That draws a chuckle from you, soft and short, but a chuckle nonetheless. And Vi smiles wide because she's heard it, and she does have a nice smile, you notice.

There're many things you want to say, some of them not so kind while some more curious. But something warm flutters in your chest, giving life to a feeling that you haven't felt in a long, long time.

"...You're stupid," is that you finally settle on, and Vi laughs loudly at that. She closes the space between you two a little further, tentatively grinning.

"So I've been told," she replies before nodding towards the elevators. "So do you maybe wanna grab lunch with me or something?"

You hold Vi's gaze for a second, purse your lips before giving a small smile.

"No," you say, walking backward to maintain your gaze with Vi. "I'm busy."

"Tomorrow?"

"Nope."

"The next day?"

"Nah."

You and Vi are beaming at each other now, the space between you as wide as a chasm.

"What do I gotta do?" Vi asks, eager, and you laugh.

"Go a week without pissing me off, then you can take me out."

Vi's gaze turns determined, the look sending a slight shiver down your spine.

"Deal."

[sp1d3rzz]

Pervert!Midoriya

final / pt.3

pt.1 pt.2

WARNING !! : Virginity loss, mean!reader, blowjobs, PiV unprotected, slight dick desc, cum swallowing, cowgirl position, swearing. Lemme know if I missed anything!

Summary : When your grades drop extremely low and leave you with a bad reputation, you decide it's up to that stupid dork Izuku to tutor you. Oh, a maybe ruin his virginity too.

A/N : A long ass wait, I hope you'll forgive me! (＾ｰ^) Love you all, and happy late New Years!!!

Never in a million years would Midoriya ever think that this day would come.

The day when you came to him after class and shoved your paper in his face with a big fat 'F' in the corner, ranting on and on about how much your reputation is at risk when you are getting shitty scores on tests and practically failing every exam.

It seems to go on for about another 30 minutes until you look him in the eyes and tell him not ask, tell him, "You're gonna tutor me so all of my hard work doesn't go for nothing, loser."

He remembers how sharp your eyes were that day when you pressed your pointer finger against his chest and made him swear on how he wouldn't let you fail. Claiming you'd make his life even more of a shit show if he let you down.

So of course, he's frantically nodding as he swears he would never let that happen! Sure, you two have had your differences, but maybe this could fix the relationship you and him had. And if not, he's just glad you're willing to let him keep the already toxic bond you share and not make it any worse.

Ultimately, you both end up at his house, sitting on his strangely clean floor as he explains how each problem is somehow related the next in the most complicated way possible. It twists your brain just right in some inhumanly fashion that you haven't experienced since you actually cared for your education.

One stupid math problem leads to another, and you quickly find yourself getting bored. Your eyes linger on to his pretty pink lips as he blabbers on about some random subject you don't bother to listen to. Each word that leaves his mouth has you a little more fixated on him. It especially leaves you in a trance when he presses his lips together nervously, catching your obvious stare and wondering if he'd done something wrong.

"Is... everything okay?" he speaks up, the hesitation in his voice so obviously showing. You can't help but roll your eyes and snatch the sheet of paper out of his hands, already tired of supposed tutoring. "This is boring!" you slam the paper on the floor, which Midoriya pathetically flinches at. "You can barely get a sentence out without stuttering or avoiding eye contact! Have you even talked to women outside of me?"

He doesn't know why, but your words hit him harder than usual. Sure, he's never been the luckiest with women, let alone have a relationship above friends... but he could if he wanted to! He's doesn't know the lines of unattractive or attractive, but he knows he isn't ugly enough for girls to not even look at him.

It takes him a few seconds of silence to reply, debating on a good comeback. "I-I have... There's plenty of females who I talk to." Even with a lie as obvious as that, he doesn't expect you to burst out into laughter, hands clutching at your stomach as you wheeze and gasp for air.

Sweat beads form on his forehead, and his face goes red with embarrassment. He watches in humiliation as you try and settle yourself down, somehow becoming infatuated with the way yours crinkle with joy, and the way your teeth show brightly to light up your face. Suddenly, he feels his body temperature spiking up, warm from how flushed he is.

Once you finally calm down, your eyes flicker back up to him. He's watching you intently, fingers fidgeting with themselves as he waits for your next word. You find it amusing, really, with how patient he manages to remain with you even after all the tormenting things you do to him. Maybe— just this once... you can be a little more appreciative of his kindness.

Slowly, you pick yourself up from your sitting position and get on all fours to crawl to him. His eyes go wide and he bites his bottom lip, and you can tell he's anticipating what's about to happen. "Y'know.." you begin, "I'd be willing to show you what a woman does when she likes a man."

Midoriyas jaw drops open as you get closer to him. His brain goes mushy when he can feel your warm breath tickle his skin, reminding him just how close you are. His breathing gets heavier, and he swallows down his nervousness.

It suddenly feels like the worlds going to stop on him in any moment when your hand inches towards the layer of fabric above his leg. "What do you m-mean?" But you know he isn't dumb. It's clear he understands your intentions since you've seen the shit he writes and reads about. Who knows what he's watching behind closed doors.

"We're gonna fuck. Or do you not want to?" You state it so bluntly, Midoriya thinks you've gone crazy. Its always been you teasing or making fun him, putting him down and setting a clear boundary between you two. Now here you are, claiming you want to have sex with him!

His eyes shoot down to your hand and then back up to meet yours. Panicking, he decides on blurting out whatever he can think of. "I never said that! It's just that well you caught me off guard and I've never done this sort of thing so–"

"Shut up before I change my mind!" you cut his nervous rambling off irritably. Silencing, he nods his head slowly, afraid of screwing this up any further. He's only seen what happens in the stupid pornos he watches, so he hesitates on what to do. But when he catches a glimpse of your impatient face, he mutters a quiet "sorry" for the wait and quickly tackles his fingers with his waist band to push it off his hips.

And when he does, you eyes widen at the sight of his boner, not expecting him to be as big as he was. It twitches under the thin material of his boxers as you hungrily stare, begging to be freed from its confinement. You don't waste any time, reaching to pull down the front of the fabric. His meaty cock springs up and bounces with release, making you ogle at the sight.

Despite not being a mathematician, you estimate a total length of 5.7 inches and a girth a little below half of that. Long and angry veins lead up to his blushed red tip, which already leaks pre-cum. A small patch of green hair covers below the base, matching the messy patch he has on his head. Naturally, a pool of saliva pools in your mouth as you take in the sight before you.

Midoriya watches you keenly as you admire his length, blushing when you look back up at him. "So this is what you've been hiding from me, huh?" you tease, and he waves his hand in front of his face as he rapidly shakes his head, sputtering out whatever he can to deny or defend your accusation.

While he isn't paying attention to what's happening below him, you lean down to place the flat of your tongue on his tip. Almost instantly, he lets out an unexpected whine and bucks his hips forward, pushing more than just the tip past your lips. The heat of your mouth, overwhelming him, quickly sends him off the edge. Pathetically enough, he might not last as long as he thought he would.

You smirk to yourself at his reaction and press forward, placing your hands on his thighs as you swallow him whole. Your wet mouth coats his dick easily, making it easier to take him. A slutty moan echoes throughout the room, and he quickly slams his own hand against his mouth. His panting escalates through the muffles past his fingers as you bring your head up and down on his cock. Your tongue drags along his base from each bob of your head, memorizing the veins that decorate it.

His hand falls from his mouth and finds its place in the roots of your hair, tangling it between his fingers. "Shit— feels s-so– good!" he whimpers, grinding his hips to the rhythm of your bobbing. The gagging sounds you make when his tip hits the back of your throat makes warmth rush to his face. He swears he's never felt anything better than this.

The hand that's taken place in your hair tightens, and he lets his mouth fall open, only shaky moans and cries leaving him. He finds it incredible how you haven't come up for air yet, only breathing through your nose like a professional. And the way you take his whole cock like it's nothing proves his point.

It isn't long before he can feel himself about to cum, lengthy moans slipping out as he grinds lazily into your mouth. You take notice of this, sloppily finishing him off and picking up the pace in which you take him. "I'm gonna— fuck!" He pushes your head down to where your nose brushes his pubes, ramming his cock deep enough to knock past your uvula. His eyes close tightly as his warm cum washes into your mouth, clenching his teeth roughly together.

Once his fingers untangle from the crown of your head, you quickly swallow his cum and push yourself up to breath. As soon as you're able to sit up, you gasp and take in as much air through your lungs as you can. "How the hell do you–" cough "cum so much.." You complain, shooting him a glare. Midoriya is practically passed out, leaning back with his cock slapped against his abs as he pants tiredly.

" 'M sorry," He whines, peaking one eye open to look at you. Even with droplets of his cum on your face and now messed up hair, he still thinks you look breathtakingly gorgeous. "It just felt so good and I couldn't help myself. Are you... o-okay?"

Scoffing at his worries, you push a loose piece of hair behind your ear and rest your eyes for a moment. "Fine. At least you gave me somewhat of a warning." And he might be overly exhausted from the earth shattering orgasm he just had, but he swears he can see a small tint of blush form on your cheeks. The thought of you having somewhat of an attraction to him makes his stomach go weak. Can such a thing really happen?

When he goes to close his eyes again and take a breath, he hears you stand up and begin removing something from your body. His eyes open up out of curiosity and he's met with you removing your pants and underwear. "W-wait, I thought we were done—" he pauses when he catches sight of your pretty pussy, slowly being revealed as you strip free from your panties.

Heat rushes to his face again as you walk back over to him and sit yourself down with two knees outside of his legs. He doesn't even notice his cock spring back up to life as his eyes take you in. "I said I was going to fuck you, didn't I?" The tease in your voice has him growing in desperate need of you once again, and he can do nothing but nod and let you take the lead.

You scoff and shake your head, hand grabbing his dick below you and aligning it with your hole. Midoriya sucks in a breath and watches as you let your hips slowly fall down so his tip brushes your clit. "Shit–" you shakily breathe, grinding your hips back and forth to swipe your pussy along his cock.

He whimpers needingly as his hands find the fat of your hips, giving him something to hold onto. You do the same, resting your arms around his neck when you finally slip his leaking tip into your warmth. The both of you moan in sync from the pleasure, pressing your bodies closer together. "I'm not sure it'll... fit." You admit embarrassingly, biting the inside of your lip as you cautiously lower yourself.

He anxiously waits for you to fuck him, so he can finally feel the walls of your cunt. And when you bring your body down and let him stretch you out, he shamefully cries out your name, pleading for you to warm his cock. "Needa' feel you! Please, I need to feel more!". You grumble back a snarky comment, but decide to get it over with.

The weight of your ass hits his thighs and you let out a lewd moan, similar to one of the porn star Midoriya likes so much. His girthy length splits you open entirely, hitting your cervix harsh enough to leave bruising for at least the next few days. He impatiently rolls his hips into you, whimpering random nonsense to try and keep himself from finishing too quick.

As soon as you adjust to his size enough to keep going, you begin to drag yourself up and down on him. The heat of your pussy invites him in sensibly, gummy walls being stretched each time you bounce on him. It doesn't go unnoticed by how wet you are already, letting him glide in and out of you easily. "You're so— fuck.." His thick fingers squeeze your skin, bound to leave marks you'll see in the morning. "So so so so good." He whines, face flush with euphoria.

You don't hesitate to start riding him faster, tits bouncing against him under your shirt. The familiar feeling of his stomach tightening approaches him once more, making him groan. Your skin meets his as you push your ass up and down on him, feeling your own orgasm begin to rise in you.

Sweat forms one body, exhaust briefly catching up to you as you ride him like your life depends on it. His cocks plunges into you so sweetly, making you unable to hold back a single moan as it hits the spongey wall in you. It has you gasping with each puncture it deals on you.

The whole room is filled with slutty sounds and wet slapping, seemingly like a porn video. It feeds into the sex perfectly, only bringing him to finish sooner. "Im so close! Please— don't stop!" Midoriya gasps, shutting his eyes tightly to let the feeling of pleasure take over him.

You take notice of the way his cock twitches inside of you, begging to spill his cum into your walls. Digging your fingers into his shoulder, you let out a string of moans before letting your orgasm rush through you and make you cum riding him.

Pants leave your lips as you grind yourself on him, rocking out the pleasure on his body to ease yours before pushing your sore knees up slightly so his dick can be free from your pussy. It separates from you with a small pop! sound, leaving you empty once again. The sight of him jerking his hips into the air as his cum spurts from his slit and onto his chest with a somehow cutely fucked out face, leave you wishing for another round.

The atmosphere seems to settle down after awhile as the two of you rest against each other, calming yourselves down from your session. "You're a pathetic fucking pervert, you weirdo." You smack his shoulder with your remaining strength, mumbling curses on your breath.

But before he can say anything, or make some half ass witted reply, your soft snoring cuts him off. Midoriya can't help himself when he softly smiles, because truthfully, he knows deep down you care for him.

[bugboi01]

The Family Omega

batfam x gn! reader imagine

Tw for grooming, sexual coercion, incest, some underage (Damian is 14 and not included in the sexual stuff but Tim and Reader are both 17)

Being a family full of alphas and betas is tough, especially during rut season. While Alfred and Dick did their best to help mediate any fights, the whole family was hoping Damian would be an omega despite the boy's feisty nature. Unfortunately for everyone, Damian woke up on his 14th birthday snarling and acting territorial over his room.

That's where you come in. Maybe you're a friend of Damian's from school, or you work as an intern for WE. Either way, you've piqued the family's interest, and they're desperate enough to make you theirs.

It would start off small, like offering to let you stay the night after a fight with your parents or lending you a jacket covered in one of the alphas' scents. You probably won't even notice how close you've gotten with the family until it's too late. All it takes is one spiked drink or drugged meal for you to go into an early heat.

Bruce would be first as the head of the family. If you try to struggle or protest, he'll simply coo at how cute you are before fucking you mercilessly until he knots your needy hole.

Dick would be next, eagerly eating you out and tasting his father's cum still dripping out of your hole. As a beta, Dick doesn't feel the overwhelming urge to mate with you, so he focuses on making you cum as many times as he can until your omega brain is turned to mush (though he'll definitely fuck you later).

Duke will get his turn after just coming off of patrol. He'll lazily thrust into you until he knots, whispering praises all the while.

Youll get a small break with Damian as the younger alpha will be more focused on scenting you and making sure your nest is up to his standards. You'll get some water and your favorite food from Alfred before it's back to being bred.

Jason is probably the most rough out of all the batboys, but he doesn't mean to be. He just loves the feeling of you so much that he can't help but lose control a little. He'd definitely have some sort of mommy/daddy kink. Will suck on your nipples while he waits for his knot to go down.

Finally, Tim. Tim is either really fucking energetic or a bit more tired and subdued like Duke depending on how much sleep he's had. If he's bored from working on a case or as ceo, he'll get all his energy out on you. If he's tired from patrol or staying up, he's more relaxed, maybe even making you ride him. I also think he rambles during sex, maybe about how good you feel or maybe just whatever hyperfixation he has at the moment.

(Omg that was a doozy. First time writing on tumblr btw! Feel free to leave requests if you want more or constructive criticism in my asks!)

[slightly-knot-insane]

kat kat kaaattttt!!! ( ˶˘ ³˘(ˊᗜˋ*)!♡ hi, lovely!! I hope you’re doing okay. may i ask for a naga bf who loves sunbathing with you?

My dear @vhoorlpool sorry for waiting over a month to get your fic 😭 Doing monstertober overwhelmed me a bit.

Heated

Monstertober 2024 - day 24 [ Animal Impulses ] by @ozzgin

[ m!naga x m!reader ]

content: chocking, breath play (kinda), anal, dp, public sex

Your naga boyfriend simply loves the beach. Throughout the summer, you go to the seaside whenever you can. He loves lying in the sun, relaxing or showing off his beautiful scales. People often approach him, asking to touch him, but he politely declines and proudly announces he's taken.

But it's autumn now, and it's been cloudy for days. He is deeply affected by the lack of sunshine and seems almost depressed. "This is normal for all reptilians, I'm perfectly fine," he always says, and you believe him... but at the same time you really want to help him.

One Saturday, a perfect opportunity presents itself. You take your boyfriend by his hand and lead him outside.

"Where are we going?" he asks.

"It's a surprise," you say with a wink.

Within 2 hours, you stop your car next to your favourite beach. It is surprisingly warm with no wind or cloud in sight. Naga boyfriend is thrilled - he jumps on your back and coils his tail around your hips squeezing you happily. His snake tongue licks your cheek. "You are amazing!"

The beach was full of people enjoying the last warm days of the year, but it wasn't too hard finding an empty spot. You place your towels and lie down. With a big stretch and a happy smile, your beautiful boyfriend hisses from pleasure. The bright sunlight melts over you. But, unlike your boyfriend, you get too hot very quickly and go to take a swim. He is watching you from afar and you enjoy catching glances of his colourful scales reflecting the sunlight whenever he moves.

After cooling down, you get to your spot. "I'll just go quickly change and I'll be right back," you say. Your boyfriend hums something in response.

You find an empty changing room and enter, but as soon as you remove your wet trunks, someone enters the little wooden house. "Just a moment I—" but you're slammed against the wall. You can't move in the tiny room suddenly uncomfortably full.

A familiar hiss flutters around your ear. Something cold is around your leg and on your stomach. Your boyfriend is completely glued to you, hugging you with his tail and hands. "You didn't lock the door."

"What are you doing? W-what if someone sees?" There is panic in your voice.

He roughly turns you around and kisses you. "Who cares," he murmurs. "It's so hot. So nice. And you are so fucking delicious." His eyes are unusually glossy and his words are slightly slurred. You recognize the symptoms - the sudden temperature spike must've messed with his brain a bit.

He slides down your stomach, licking you. "I love your skin and your body hair," he says while kissing your happy trail. With a lustful hiss, he takes your dick into his mouth. His flexible tongue feels so good around your shaft, moving up and down and paying really good attention to the tip. He moans while coiling himself around you tighter and tighter.

"Wait," you pant staring at the tiny window just above your head.

"I don't care about your human modesty," he snaps. "I will fuck you now. If someone wants to watch, let them watch."

You can't fight with him, not when he is licking your cock like a lollipop. You will just have to be as quiet as possible.

He glides his lower body up and toward your face. His slit is only tiny bit open so you lick your fingers and push them inside. Naga hisses and his scales make a very special movement, similar to human goose bumps. You feel around inside his slit until you find his two dicks swollen and pressed hard against each other. While trying to keep your mouth firmly shut despite wanting to moan like a whore, you push open his slit a bit more so that you could thrust your tongue inside. His cocks immediately react to stimulation and, lubricated by your saliva, slowly slide out.

"Fuck," he pants. "I'm so horny. I can't... I need to..." He hisses very loudly and, the next second, you can't move trapped by his powerful body. His tail muscles are so strong that he easily squeezes all air out of you. With sclera turned red and his pupils as thin as needles, you know you are at his mercy. Completely helpless. His prey and toy.

"I will fuck your tight ass so hard," he hisses. "You are my slut. My plaything. I will pump all I have inside your guts."

"Please..." You can barely form words, your chest gripped like a pet toy, but he hears you and moves his head closer. "Fuck me... "

His dicks are already positioned and throbbing against your ass cheeks and thighs. His self-lubricating phalluses easily slide between your cheeks, grinding against your needy anus. Your naga moans once he pushes one of his dicks inside you and lets his other rub between your thighs.

His slick cock feels so good and your inability to move makes you more sensitive. All you can see, smell and feel is he. He is around you and inside you, he is panting and hissing, his scales are rubbing against your skin, scratching you while his cock is pulsating inside you. Your naga boyfriend bites your jaw in a frenzy, pulling you closer, pumping into you. He likes to switch cocks so after every few minutes a different cock drills you. "My slut," he hisses into your neck and you cum the first time with your own cock pressed somewhere underneath his scaly skin. He feels that and chuckles. "More... More... Aah..."

He plays with your body, rubbing against it, and fucking your ass with both of his cocks pushed inside until you climax again. You moan his name and he is again around your neck, chocking you and thrusting hard into your body. He swells and the wood crack around you. A familiar vibration goes though his and your body and he twitches, once, twice and you feel his smooth liquid spraying your insides.

His grip slowly recedes and you can breathe freely again. He nuzzles your neck, his eyes and sclera normal again, smiling in ecstasy. "Oh shit!" A clear panic cracks his voice. "Was I too rough? It was the temperature, the weather, I couldn't control myself, I'm sorry!"

You laugh, stretching your neck muscles. "I don't mind rough, but this changing room is about to fall apart."

With a terrified grimace, your boyfriend tentatively looks at the door. "You think people... saw?"

"Saw? No. But I'm sure they noticed a changing room shaking and hissing."

"Ah yes, well," he laughs. "Well, if anyone asks, we will just tell them it was the heat messing with them."

[deerboybreeder]

LONG fucking fantasy below the cut whoops. Tw for rape, drugging and stalking ♥️

I move to a small town in the middle of nowhere to completely restart my life. The community is small and tight knit, but thankfully extremely accepting, so me being trans is a non issue! Or at least, people have the decency to not say anything about it to my face. I feel welcomed in this town, though I spend a lot of my time improving the patch of land I moved onto and less talking to residents, even though I've met nearly everyone.

I start getting letters in the mail, complimenting me in sweet, flowery language. It makes me feel special, but there's no return address, so I can't write back. But over time, the letters get more possessive. Once, the letter describes my body fairly graphically, in all the most complimenting ways, but it's clear they saw me working shirtless in my garden, tits free to the wind. My land is huge and fenced in, someone would have to have jumped my fence and gotten very close without my noticing to see me doing that.

I start spending a little less time at home and more time in town, hoping to make some connections to keep my mind off my "secret admirer", who started recently describing how beautiful and motherly of a man I would make swollen with his baby. I don't tell anyone about it, embarrassed by the content, and the fact that despite the obvious escalation, it makes me wet to think about all this attention. I'm not beloved by the town, but I make a few good friends.

One day, a year to the day I moved into town, a package shows up at my door. Its from my secret admirer, a very small bottle of wine with a letter attached. Praising all my accomplishments this year, in detail, in order. Singing my praises and wishing for even more in the upcoming year. Against my better judgement, I accept, and take the wine inside.

I generally am a lightweight when it comes to alcohol- I learned that recently, out with friends at the local bar. One had bought me a drink and I needed help home afterwards, and the friend that bought me the round felt so badly about my state he walked me home himself. But I had nothing else to do that day, so I poured myself a glass anyway.

I don't drink often, so I didn't recognize right away that something was wrong. Didn't notice that I was fading in and out of consciousness on the couch until one moment I was watching a documentary on wilderness survival, and the next it was about space travel. My body was heavy, I could barely move, so the couch would have to do that night.

I almost chalked it up to overindulgence when my front door opened.

It was a small town- I had no reason to lock my door. Even my secret admirer hadn't made mention of wanting to break in, just lamented that they couldn't work up the courage to approach me first. But apparently, this was how they chose to do it.

I yelled, a slurred and disoriented thing. Time was runny, and I didn't even have time to process running before they were on me. A mask, sunglasses and a ball cap obscured my attackers face, hair seeming meticulously tucked into the cap to further obscure their identity.

I tried to struggle, but I'm small and they're much bigger- not to mention the wine that I realize must've been drugged. They shush me, clearly altering their voice so I wouldn't know who they are- small town, after all.

They pull up my shirt, tangling me in it and covering my face so I can't see them. Everything is running together, and at some point they've taken my pants off too, Im lying naked before them. Everything narrows down to sensations that run together. A mouth sucking on my nipple, my attackers hands running reverently down my body. They're murmuring words I can't understand because my head is swimming from the spiked drink. Their fingers find my wet and waiting slit, and they thumb over my tdick, and despite myself I make a strangled noise.

Then, I am aware of their cock at my entrance, and I get another burst of fighting, but it's useless. They shush me, kissing the side of my face through the fabric of the shirt around my face, and promise to be gentle as they push themself into my dripping cunt. They moan openly into my ear, muffled by the shirt, and start playing with my tits while they rape me.

Everything is blurry, I keep slipping in and out of consciousness, only to wake up and find that they're still fucking me. They whisper praises, saying they wish they'd done this a year ago when I first moved in, how much of a tease I was working in my garden shirtless or changing in front of the window. How we were going to be so happy together, how excited they were to realize I had a womb they could fill. How they'd start with one, but they knew I would look heavenly round and heavy with their baby for the rest of my life.

I don't know how much time passed, them using my pliant body like a cocksleeve. They were mostly true about being gentle, aside from the bruising on my hips where they held me down. They came against my waiting cervix at least once, but it all ran together for me. After cumming inside me, they gently rubbed my stomach over my womb, scratching the trail of dark hair that sprouted over the year taking testosterone.

I wanted to cry, but they stayed inside me growing soft for a while, gently fondling me or kissing my body. Eventually, I blacked out entirely.

The next morning I couldn't pretend it was a dream- I was left tangled up in my clothes, though a blanket from my room was draped over me and my TV turned off. My cunt was sore and I had the world's worst hangover. I stumbled to the shower and tried not to throw up.

I didn't want to be alone, so after my chickens were fed I went down to the friends house who helped me home that night. He had been so kind, and we'd started getting close. He had even dismissed a mutual friend making a joke about taking advantage of me the night he helped me home- he'd just helped me to my bed and left. I could trust him.

He knew something was off the moment he saw me, and ushered me inside. He got me water from his fridge, and sat down with me to let me talk.

I told him everything. First about the rape that night, then elaborating to the stalker in tears. He looked horrified, and let me sob in his arms. He was so kind to me, so good to me. I told him I didn't want to be alone. He offered to move in with me for a little while, to make sure nothing else happened. I agreed immediately, and he started packing up his things right that second.

His time spent moved in was nice. I got up early for my chickens and garden, but somehow he was always up earlier, making me coffee and breakfast. Some days he even watered my plants for me, just to be kind. He was sweet, always there to support me. He slept on the couch with no complaints, and even held me close when a noise outside had me convinced the stalker was going to break down the now locked door and rape me again.

The admirers notes slowed. They first were promises of coming back again, to see my "beautiful fertile body" up close again. Then threats when my friend moved in. Then nothing. I thought the nightmare was over.

I had chalked up the throwing up to a traumatic response and the drugs working their way out of my system. When it continued I didn't think much of it. Attributed the weight gain to my friend fussing over me and making sure I ate well. But the slightly round look of my stomach unsettled me, so I bit the bullet and took a pregnancy test.

Positive.

I was in hysterics when I saw the lines, and my friend ran into the room asking if I was hurt. I just shook my head and showed him the test, and he took me into his arms. We both know by this point it was too late to abort in the state this town was in, and travel costs put it out of the question if I could go out of state to have it done.

My friend assured me that it would be alright. That he'd help me through this. That he'd even help me raise the baby if I didn't want to be a single father.

Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, maybe it was the kindness he'd shown me this past month or two. Maybe it was the way he looked up at me, having knelt down in front of me to make his promise of support. But I kissed him. I had fallen in love with this man, who'd taken care of me in my time of greatest need. And with the way he kissed me back, he'd fallen for me too.

It was like a switch was flipped, like he had been holding back this entire time. I invited him into my bed, and every night his hands were on me. I loved the way he felt, so happy to have someone else touch me after what happened. Every touch was adoring and reverent, he made me feel like a prince. Id beg him to cum deep inside me and breed me, and he'd get a look in his eyes when he pounded my cunt. It helped me pretend it was his baby growing inside me, especially when he'd put his hand on my growing stomach protectively.

Our relationship moved quickly. We were dating for only three months when he proposed to me, but it felt like three years. Gladly I accepted, and it took only two months to set up the wedding. He handled everything, insistent I just relax because he didn't want to stress out the baby. I was heavily pregnant at our wedding, and I heard a few murmurs about it being a shotgun wedding. I let them gossip- I hadn't told anyone about my attack, and I didn't care if they thought we were just getting married because I got knocked up. My husband and I knew the truth.

Those final few months were hard, but my wonderful husband took such good care of me. Doted on me hand and foot, took care of the chickens entirely, and with winter setting in soon I didn't need to tend the garden at all. This loving wonderful man cared for me through every stage of this unwanted pregnancy and turned it into the start of a beautiful life. It was like a scene out of a romance novel.

My labor was hard, but he was there through it all. Fussing over me and ensuring I got the best care. It hurts beyond words, the baby huge and heavy, but I managed. A sweet baby girl.

He was overjoyed. The next two months spent in a sleepy newborn haze, of course. But he was always there, at my side. He cooked dinner, kept the house tidy, watched the baby as I tended the chickens, our main income aside from a few residuals from some old novel he wrote years ago. He didn't even ask for sex, knowing I was healing, even if I wanted to regardless of doctors orders. But we waited.

The anniversary of the attack came and went, and he held me through my sobs. Reminded me that even if the experience was horrible, we had our beautiful daughter, and our beautiful relationship, because of it. And he was right. I was able to leave it behind.

As time wore on, he continued to be an amazing husband. Attentive in daily life, wonderful to our child, and absolutely fantastic in bed.

Nights spent after the baby was sleeping entwined in each other. His cock buried to the hilt in my needy cunt, his mouth on my heavy milky tits. Some nights, id let him take Polaroid photos of me impaled on his cock, or sucking him off, or stroking my tdick as his cum leaked out of me. I never saw where he kept them, but the idea that my body was so important to him he kept photos around made me feel good and loved. I never needed to ask with him, he somehow always knew what I needed, and I was often marked with hickies along my body from him. He said he was claiming every part of me.

A few months into summer, I felt off again. This time I didn't wait, and took a pregnancy test right away. Positive again. We weren't trying explicitly, but we weren't preventing it either, especially not with how I begged him to breed me every night. I told him, and he was overjoyed. I felt like I was in a fairy tale.

We decided to turn his old stuff into a playroom, since the nursery itself was small. I set to work on it in the mornings, while he was making breakfast. It was a lot to take down and move, so it took a while. While emptying his desk to have him move it to storage, I found a little cardboard box. Curious, I opened it up.

At first I thought it was the dirty photos he had taken of me. The idea of him alone in his study, fucking his hand to these photos when working late on a new story made me shiver. But then, under those photos were more. Candid shots of me out with friends, even before the baby. I hadn't gotten out much after the baby came, not like I went much of anywhere after the attack. These photos were old.

Then, the ones from my home. In through the windows while I was changing. My shirtless working in my garden. Me reaching for a gift wrapped bottle of wine.

With shaking hands, I set the box down. My husband, unbeknownst to me, had come up behind me. He wrapped his arms tightly around me, in a way hours ago I would find protective but now felt like a vice grip.

"What's the matter, love?" He asked, as he placed a hand over my womb, once again full of his child. "I told you we were meant to be. That you would look beautiful heavy with my baby for the rest of your life. I know you think so too. Why else would you beg me to breed that fertile, beautiful body of yours again? Just as I said before. If it weren't for that night, we wouldn't have our daughter, or our marriage. I just wish I'd done it sooner."

[urdepressedslut]

Hello lovely,

I saw your post that your requests are open, so I will give it a try =)

Imagine Bucky and reader are best friends but they have a huge argument and now they don't talk to each other for days. She's feeling really bad, missing him. He is her most important person and now without interacting with him for days, she's feeling lost and lonely and heartbroken. Maybe she has not a super power and is only a normal human, helping the Avengers with IT or something. Due to the argument with her best friend and not talking to Bucky (Bucky ignores her completely) she begins to feel it not only mental but also physically. She can't eat probably and at the end falls deathly sick.... With a fluffy happy ending and a worried and protective Bucky

Please. That would be nice.

Take care honey

oh my goodness— my heart 😭❤️ the angst is gonna hurt, but i’m such a sucker for it. i had so much fun writing this one, thank you for requesting and i hope you like it🥰

Love Hurts

♡ Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: You and Bucky get into a heated argument, things are said and done and now he won’t speak to you. You don’t think you can handle him ignoring your existence.

♡ Warnings: language, mentions of bucky’s trauma, heavy angst, malnourishment, depression, anxiety/panic attacks, minor injuries, hospitalization, suicidal ideation, self hate, literally hurt just writing this

main masterlist

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | MATURE CONTENT 18+

Your nails bit into your palm, denting the flesh— threatening to pierce the delicate skin. It was all to hold yourself back, distract you from the words that wanted to burst out.

It was becoming a sickening routine, Bucky was reckless and had yet another near death experience on his recent mission. The anxiety and the nerves stopping your body from functioning— the dreaded wait for his jet to arrive back at the compound. You shouldn’t have to be used of receiving the call that he had yet again made a reckless move— but you were starting to discover a pattern.

It did nothing to ease the panic that swirled in your chest every time he left for missions. You’d sob, throwing up everything you had eaten that day— unable to stomach anything with the idea that Bucky was on a mission. You never found your anxiety to be so severe— but when Bucky was even mentioned about going on a mission… it spiked.

That’s where you found yourself in his room, watching him pace the space— avoiding your frustrated stare. You weren’t angry at him per say— you were angry that he didn’t value his life.

“Seriously (Y/n)— you get so worked up over nothing. I’m here and alive— isn’t that enough?” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.

You pressed your nails tighter to your palm, yet the pain couldn’t stop your thundering thoughts.

“You’re here and alive now, until you do some stupid shit like this again and are dead!” You hissed, trying to keep your voice low but you didn’t know how much longer you could control yourself.

He glared at you, squinting his eyes in anger and then rolling his eyes.

“Oh for fucks sake— can you stop fucking babying me? I can handle myself!” He raised his voice, his metal arm whirring.

“I’m not babying you— I’m just scared you’re gonna get yourself killed. Do you care about your life at all?” You asked him aggressively, your voice raising just a tad.

He took a long pause, staring at you with his face void of emotion— only annoyance.

“Not really.” He admitted.

You were taken back, although you had these conversations with him a time or twenty. It was an ongoing process to get him to slowly love himself— his past as The Winter Soldier torturing his soul. He was so convinced he wasn’t deserving of anything, not even a roof over his head. It was a struggle to help him, but you weren’t going to give up on him.

“You realize if anything ever happened to you I—” Your voice broke, needing a breath, “Buck I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

You thought you saw his eyes flash with guilt, but before you could linger on the look for too long— his face was hardening again.

“That doesn’t sound like my problem.” He mumbled out, making your eyes widen.

You were extremely taken back from those words, your chest aching painfully— him not knowing what effect those words had on you.

“Are you fucking serious?” You asked him, your face morphing into a hurt expression, mixed with anger. “Can you just do your job without trying to kill yourself?”

His face grew red with rage and he was stomping up towards you— his face inches from yours.

“I am doing my job— very well in fact. Unlike you who just fucking sits here doing nothing!” He defended himself, his breath hitting your face in warm pants.

“Doing nothing? Buck— why are you like this?” You puffed your chest, not backing down from his towering form.

But your words seemed to have hit a nerve, as he shrunk back slightly, narrowing his gaze at you.

“Like what?”

You furrowed your brows, slowing your racing heart from the shouting— you weren’t sure you had said anything bad. Did you?

“What?” You squeaked out, nervous now.

“You said, why am I like this… like what?” He pushed, stepping closer to you now, his face still red with anger but you could see the hurt in his eyes.

You swallowed and wondered how to convince him you didn’t mean anything bad by what you said. But you were almost positive it would be an impossible task to get Bucky to listen.

“Buck, I didn’t mean anythin—”

“What— you think I’m not capable of doing my job? You think I’m still the monster hydra made me?” He spat, his chest rising and falling quicker.

“No, no Buck listen—”

That was definitely not what you meant, you could tell he was spiraling and you were still confused as to why. You would never make him think that.

“After 70 fucking years I finally have a job that I like— that I enjoy doing— I fucking help people! I’m finally doing some good and now you’re telling me I’m not capable of doing it?” He boomed, his chest puffing into yours and your stumbled back slightly. “You think I’m only capable of being a monster? Huh? Is that what you fucking think?”

You were growing scared now, the look in his eyes wild with something and you didn’t like how close he was to you— you knew he’d never hurt you but your fear overwhelmed your senses.

“Friday— call Steve and Sam in here now!” You shouted into the room, and Bucky’s eyes squinted painfully— his metal arm whirring again.

Bucky only saw one thing— you didn’t reassure him that he was thinking irrationally. You didn’t correct him that he wasn’t the monster. Instead you called for help, that you were clearly scared— because you thought he was a monster.

He was at a loss for words and just stared at you, almost through you— as his breathing was only getting heavier at the sight of your fearful eyes.

Not even minutes later, Steve and Sam were busting through the door, taking in the scene and separated you and Bucky.

“Hey— what’s going on?” Steve asked in between the two of you. “Buck, what’s wrong man?”

You couldn’t seem to find the words and just stood speechless as well— the fight startling you. This was one of the worst ones, and it was also one that still left you confused. You cursed yourself for not being careful enough with your words— but it was almost impossible to get through to him when he was on the brink of having an episode.

Sam walked closer to you, his facing morphing into concern as he took in your shocked expression.

“(Y/n)? You okay? Did he hurt you?” Sam whispered, keeping his words only between you two.

You slowly shook your head but still didn’t respond verbally.

“Okay, okay that’s good. You wanna go get a drink from downstairs? Why don’t we take a breather okay?” Sam suggested softly, big brother mode kicking in at the sight of your frazzled state.

Without another word, you left the room with Sam— missing the devastated look from Bucky.

Steve waited until the door shut, then his attention was back on Bucky.

“Buck, you gotta talk to me man— what happened?” He asked softly, watching his friend slowly relax, but it wasn’t from being in a relaxing mood— his body and mind were just exhausted from the argument.

“I fucked everything up. That’s what happened.” He mumbled, turning away from Steve to sit on the edge of his bed.

Steve followed behind but stood in front of him, shaking his head— ready to argue.

“You didn’t mess anything up, arguments happen. You guys will work it out. I know how much you mean to each other.” Steve pointed out, watching Bucky’s face unchanging.

“You didn’t see the way she looked at me— she’s scared of me I—” He shuttered, his breath shaky as he remembered your look, “I fucking scared her.”

Steve’s chest ached, the state of his friend breaking his heart. He knew Bucky meant no harm, and he almost for a fact knew that you knew that too. But Bucky for sure didn’t believe that himself.

“I didn’t see what you saw, but I can guarantee you that she’s not afraid of you. This is (Y/n) we are talking about. You are her world Buck.” Steve tried to convince him.

Bucky shook his head, running his flesh hand through his hair.

“I think I just need to stay away from her for awhile.” Bucky came up with instead.

Steve immediately started shaking his head, knowing that was the last thing he needed.

“Bucky I—”

“Please Steve… I just need some space.” Bucky pleaded, his body sagging in exhaustion.

Steve couldn’t find it in himself to argue with him anymore about this. Maybe he did need some time to himself, to cool down and gather his thoughts. Also Steve wasn’t going to force him to anything ever. After the years his pal went through— he would never make him do anything. He had enough things decided for him, and Steve wasn’t about to stoop to hydra’s level.

Meanwhile down in the kitchen, Sam was getting you a glass of water— standing across from your seated form at the island. He slid the cup across, sending a worried glance at you.

“(Y/n)?” Sam snapped his fingers getting your attention.

You were shaken from your state of staring, but even snapped out of the trance— the anxieties still swirled within you.

“Yeah sorry… I’m here.” You whispered, grabbing the glass and taking a tiny sip.

Sam gave you a quizzical expression, watching you start to slip back into a mindless stare— so he spoke up.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” He asked, genuinely curious what had went down.

He knew— hell everyone knew you and Bucky were extremely close. Best of friends, always there for one another— dancing on the line of strictly friends to lovers. Truthfully, Sam found it completely obnoxious and just wanted you two together already.

“I don’t really know… I think I said the wrong thing— I didn’t mean to make him upset.” You confessed, keeping your eyes on the countertop, not risking a glance to Sam.

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up— mistakes happen. I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” Sam told you.

You shook your head, gripping the cup tighter.

“God I hope so… I don’t know what I’d do without him.” You whispered pathetically, tears welling in your eyes.

Sam reached out to rub your arm comfortingly, trying to relax you so you didn’t start crying. He hated to see you cry— made his heart hurt.

“It’s been a long day for everyone, why don’t you go head upstairs and get some sleep. I’m sure things will have blown over by tomorrow.” He suggested and you finally met his gaze, smiling weakly and nodding.

Without saying goodbye, you stood up and headed to your room. Taking Sam’s words and playing them on repeat in your head.

Tomorrow is another day, tomorrow would be better.

God had you hoped that was the case— it only was the beginning on the torment.

You had slept in longer than usual, but overall felt refreshed. The first thing that came to mind when fully waking up was Bucky. Immediately you headed downstairs to find him— needing to talk with him— apologize.

Making it down to the kitchen, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in at the sight of him sitting at the island— sipping at his coffee. You furrowed your brows, thinking he'd be done with his coffee by now, since you had slept in. Your chest ached with guilt with the possibility that he didn't sleep well.

You took a deep breath before making yourself known, although you were sure be could sense you in the room— considering he was a super soldier.

"Morning Buck." You announced, walking around the island so you could face him.

He kept his gaze down at his coffee, finding the cup more interesting than you.

Okay, that’s fair. You thought, you most probably deserved that reaction.

“You sleep okay?” You asked again, picking at the skin on your nails nervously.

Again— he didn’t even lift his head. In fact, he wasn’t even acknowledging you. You waited several minutes for a response, the silence becoming thick with tension and you couldn’t stand it.

“Bucky?” You tried, and this time he lifted his head.

Your heart twinged in your chest at his bloodshot eyes, clear evidence that he hadn’t gotten good sleep. You hated yourself for causing him the stress, especially knowing he was just starting to actually get hours of sleep. It was huge progress compared to his nights either screaming awake or just staring at the walls. But now you had to go and ruin all that progress. You felt sick to your stomach— disgusted with yourself.

“I’m really sorry about last night… I didn’t like how ugly it got and I’m sorry if I said something to upset you— you know I’d never intentionally hurt you.” You told him, picking more aggressively at your nails, causing to nail beds to bleed.

You swallowed nervously when he didn’t answer right away, instead staring at you with… what was that? Disgust? You didn’t know, but you hated the look altogether.

“Bucky, please say something.” You pleaded.

Bucky lowered his gaze to his coffee again, taking a minute before he stood up and looked your way.

“I just need some space.” He told you quietly.

You were relived to have him finally talk to you, but to hear him suggest space between you two— you could almost feel the knife digging into your chest. You tried to keep a neutral expression but otherwise felt your bottom lip quiver.

Without giving you time to respond, Bucky was walking out of the room— leaving you standing there speechless, lungs begging for air. You didn’t want your mind to go immediately to that thought, but you couldn’t ignore it either— he hated you.

“Hey babe, I need you to help me out in the lab tod—” Tony came busting into the room, but immediately shut up once he saw your broken expression. “Honey, what’s wrong? You alright?”

You nodded your head, lying to him and yourself and started waving him off with the fakest smile.

“Yeah— yeah I’m good. Just need to uh— need to get some things done.” You told him, your eyes darting all around the room, the familiar feeling of panic seeping into your being.

Tony gave you a ‘really?’ look and stepped closer to you.

“(Y/n) I’m not blind— I can see you’re upset. Talk to m—”

“Seriously Tony— I’m fine! Just leave it alone!” You told him a little too aggressively.

His face was taken back and you felt guilty immediately, cursing yourself for hurting everyone.

Why are you such a fucking issue? Your mind screamed at you.

You didn’t waste another second and sped walked out of the room, needing to calm yourself down before you ran into any one else. You were spiraling and you needed to just relax— take a deep breath. Maybe you just needed one more day and things would be back to normal.

Yeah… just one more day.

You had hoped that was the case as well… but as always— things only got worse.

Bucky refused to talk to you or even look at you. He’d given you the cold shoulder for almost two weeks now. He would get up and leave the second you entered the room. He couldn’t stand you it seemed.

You couldn’t keep hiding your hurt. At first, you had done a good job at hiding how you were really feeling. Saving the sobbing and attacks for when you were alone in your room. As the days lingered on, you found yourself weak and drained— you didn’t have enough energy to put up a charade anymore.

The whole team were sending you worried looks, and attempted to talk with you. But the second they’d try— you’d bolt. The subject was too sensitive, too raw. You didn’t want to talk to anyone but Bucky— and he hated you.

You had missed so many meals, forgetting to eat with your mental struggles throughout the days. You had been getting no more than two hours of sleep. You were so stressed, so stuck in your own mind that you couldn’t function. Even when you had managed to remember to eat, your stomach would knot up to the point that you were throwing everything up. You were gaunt, basically a real life zombie. You needed help— but you needed Bucky more.

You were laying in bed staring unknowingly into space, it had been hard to focus with no food or sleep in your system— so you had only managed to lay here. Even that was exhausting, no matter how much you laid around— your mind wouldn’t stop the assault. Your anxiety had never been this bad, you were a prisoner to it.

Knocking at your door had you jumping, your heart racing— and for a moment you forgot where you were.

You’re in the compound… yeah that’s right.

You slowed your breathing and swung your legs sluggishly over the edge of the bed to answer it. You weren’t prepared for the sudden dizzy spell, your vision spotting with black and white specks. You tried to blink it off, but suddenly you were toppling to the ground.

You fell to the floor with a loud thump, luckily landing on your front, your hands somehow catching most of your fall— you could already feel the throbbing in your palms.

You didn’t hear the persistent knocking, or the door open. You didn’t even hear the voice speaking from the doorway. It was when a hand landed on your shoulder that you were gasping, forgetting your surroundings once again.

Your eyes met Steve’s and you swore your heart was about to beat out of your chest.

“(Y/n) are you alright?” He asked you, hovering his hands over you— not sure what you had hurt.

You furrowed your brows, looking him over.

“Steve what are… what are you doing here?” You asked genuinely confused.

You watched Steve’s eyes widen and he swallowed nervously— his expression growing more concerned.

“(Y/n) it’s okay… I’ve got you.” Steve hushed, and he was pulling you into his chest, hugging you protectively.

You were still confused but then you tasted one of your stray tears, and you immediately came to your senses. You were crying in Steve’s arms… but why? You were having gaps of time missing from you, this wasn’t the first time this had happened— you just didn’t seem to care.

“Steve… my head hurts.” You slurred into his chest, sagging against him.

You were grateful that he was here, you desperately needed someone around. You were just hoping that someone would’ve been Bucky.

“Okay, let’s get you to Helen. She’s gonna take care of you, okay?” Steve asked you, and you could only give a weak nod.

He knew there was no way you were walking there, so he hoisted you up into his arms, and cradled your head as he started to the med bay.

You just stared blankly at his chest, not really caring if Steve were to throw you off the roof of the building. You just didn’t care.

Steve had gotten you down to her, and she checked you out. Alerting Steve that you were extremely malnourished, dehydrated— an insomniac. She kept listing off all the things Steve was afraid to hear. The whole time he was sure you didn’t hear a thing, although you were in the room— you were just checked out.

Helen eventually left, and Steve took his opportunity to speak with you. He pulled up a chair next to the hospital bed and grabbed your hand.

“(Y/n), what’s going on? You can talk to me— you can’t keep doing this to yourself. Please… just talk to me.” Steve whispered, pleading with you that you would stop torturing yourself.

“He hates me.” You mumbled.

Steve’s eyes widened and he frowned, knowing what you meant. He knew he let this go on for too long.

“(Y/n) he doesn’t hate you. He just needed time to himself, so he co—”

“I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, I don’t even know what I said to hurt him but I—” You rushed out, the heart monitor beeping frantically, “I’m a horrible person, I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to!”

You wheezed out, clutching your chest as you couldn’t catch your breath. Your cheeks glistened with a steady stream of tears, your wheezing only growing by the second.

“Okay, okay (Y/n)— I need you to slow your breathing. You’re okay, he doesn’t hate you. Just take deep breaths okay— even if you can’t just try. I’m here.” He tried to coach you, but this wasn’t his thing.

Now he was starting to get mad at his friend, Bucky shouldn’t of let this go on for this long.

You followed his chest rising and falling, staring at him as he tried to calm you down. Your breaths were heavy and painful sounding. Steve was about to say something but stopped himself when he saw your eyes look behind him.

He turned and saw Bucky standing in the doorway— his face paled. Truthfully, he looked like he was going to be sick.

“(Y/n)?” He whispered, his heart breaking at your state.

He had ran into Helen in the kitchen and was informed of your condition— he didn’t believe it and had to see for himself. He was shocked to find you like this.

Your tears only edged on from his appearance and you shook your head in shame.

“I’m sorry Bucky! Whatever I did, I’m sorry!” You sobbed and Bucky ran to the bed, kneeling down and taking your hands into his.

“Doll it’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here— I’m here. I’m not gonna leave you… I’m sorry.” He rushed out, shushing your cries, watching you slow your breathing at his words. “There we go, just keep breathing with me. I’m here, you’re okay.”

He kept repeating himself, making sure you knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

Steve knew you were in good hands and slowly snuck out of the room— knowing you two needed to talk.

Bucky tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers trail down your cheek to your jaw. You couldn’t help the way your face leaned into his touch, it felt like it had been forever since the last one.

Your breathing had slowed down, and now you just stared up at him— eyes glossy with more tears. You felt so many emotions. You felt relived, but also angry and hurt. Above all— you needed to know what you did to upset him. The guilt still ate away at your heart, and even just the memory of the argument had your chest aching.

“What did I do?” You whispered, making his eyes shoot up to yours, concern painting his face.

“You didn’t do anything.” He told you, and you furrowed your brows.

You were still anxious— he hadn’t answered your question. Even more so— if you didn’t do anything then why did he ignore you?

“Then why?”

“Why what (Y/n)?” He dared to ask, and you scoffed— ripping your hands out of his.

The anger was approaching.

“Why did you shut me out?” You wondered, and he only let his eyes cast down to the bed— making you angrier. “You ignored me for two weeks! Two fucking weeks you just acted as if I didn’t exist! Do you know how much that fucking hurts?”

You were breathing heavy again, but this time it wasn’t from panic— it was the full force of all your anger bursting out.

He lifted his eyes to you, and you saw how broken he looked. How your state had affected him.

“I could never do that to you Buck— I would never do that to you! You’re my everything! I don’t trust anyone as much as I trust you!” You raised your voice, while he stayed silent. “If I didn’t do anything then why would you— why—”

You broke out into a sob, covering your face with your hands. You felt good getting all the built up anger out— but now you felt extremely guilty. The pitiful face of Bucky staring at you, causing your heart to hurt all over again. It didn’t matter what happened, you always ended up hurting others.

“(Y/n) I’m so sorry I— god I fucked up. I didn’t ever mean to hurt you, please know that. You’re my other half, and no one has ever been there for me like you have.” He spoke through a tight throat, swelling with emotion.

You uncovered your face and just stared at him a little longer, still incredibly hurt from his actions— but you knew you couldn’t stay mad at him. You so badly wanted to forgive and forget— and just wrap him in your arms like you both needed.

“It’s hard to explain what’s wrong with me to someone when I don’t even understand what’s wrong with me— I just know I’m fucked up. I’m broken beyond repair.” His voice broke, his own eyes welling with tears.

You didn’t have it in you to keep up an angry facade, and so you reached out and took his hand in yours. His face almost immediately lit up, his breathing slowing at your touch.

“Try me.” You whispered, watching Bucky take a deep breath before he spoke again.

“The night of our fight…” He started, and you swallowed in having to remember that night. “I had never seen you look at me like that.”

You stayed silent, afraid to open your mouth and have a sob escape. You could feel it bubbling up— the memory playing back through your mind.

“You looked at me like you were scared. You looked at me like I was a monster.” He confessed and it all made sense to you now.

It wasn’t about what you said, it was your reaction that disturbed him to no ends. Even if you couldn’t control your reaction in the moment— you still felt guilty for causing him pain of remembering the hydra days.

“Oh Buck…” You whimpered, trying to pull him close— but he pulled away before he could reach your embrace.

“No— you don’t get to be nice to me after what I did. I promised I would never hurt you and I did— you’re in here because of me! I don’t deserve your forgiveness!” He raised his voice, and you weren’t scared of him— just concerned.

“I wasn’t scared of you Bucky, you just caught me off guard. Things were heated— I’m not afraid of you and I most definitely don’t think you’re a monster.” You tried to convince him.

“I really hope you’re not lying because if you were afraid of me… god I don’t know what I’d do. If you never wanted to see me again— that’s fine. Whatever you want, but I can’t live knowing you’re afraid of me.” He whimpered out.

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

He nodded his head, knowing damn well you’d never lie. That was one thing he loved about you— you were so honest. Keeping it real with him, even if he didn’t wanna hear it. He could count on you for the truth.

“I still don’t deserve your forgiveness.” He argued.

“Well too bad, I’m forgiving you anyway.” You finally told him and he felt his chest expand.

Like he could finally breath.

“Why?” He wondered.

You knew it was the line you two had been dancing on forever— but you knew if there was ever a time to say it. It was now.

“Because I love you.” You admitted quietly.

His eyes widened just slightly, and his breath stuttered. He had always had a feeling what you two had was more than friends, he just never spoke up about it. Of course he loves you too— god he loves you so much. That’s why the thought of you being scared of him was enough to pull him away. He couldn’t bear being around you if you were frightened by him. He couldn’t live with himself. More importantly he now discovered, he really couldn’t live without you.

“I love you so much.” He confessed back as your tears leaked down your cheeks.

You pulled his arm, and he let you pull him to the bed— close enough where you could cup both his cheeks.

“Don’t ever do that to me again, please. I need you Bucky— life is not livable without you.” You cried, kissing his forehead to which he leaned into your lips.

“Never again— I promise.”

This time, he wouldn’t break it.

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[surielstea]

Plaguing Dreams

Based on this request!

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader (mates)

Summary: After a particularly jarring dream, Reader is unsure how to separate it from reality.

Warnings: Mentions of adultery | happy ending | crack fic | mostly fluff | slight hurt/comfort

1.5k words

"Please, baby it's not what it looks like!" My mate scrambled from our bedroom, the one I had entered only to find some foreign whore who I hadn't recognized in my bed, with my husband.

I didn't quite know how to process it. I slammed the door shut in his face, my breath stolen from me at the sight.

The door swung open, revealing Azriel, this time with a shirt on.

"Baby, cmon," He reaches his hands out towards me with bunched brows. But once the shock subsided, anger took over.

"Don't, baby me. Are you fucking serious?" I looked at him with wild amusement in my eyes, my breath shaky as I attempted to calm it.

But deep down I didn't want to be calm, I wanted to rage and scream at him until my anger echoed like an incessant, permanent ringing in his ears.

"I swear to you, it's not what it looked like," He lowered his voice, his hands coming towards me like I was some rabid animal on the side of the road in need of taming.

"Swear to me? Like you swore an oath on our wedding day?" I ask, entirely consumed by my fury that was only multiplying the more and more he silently stared at him.

"For The Mother's sake Azriel, not what it looks like? You and another woman were naked in our bed. Ours." I gesture between us to stress my point.

"We can figure this out," His hand found purchase at my arm. My brows knotted as I looked down at the touch. Something was off. I couldn't put my finger on it, I just, sensed it.

"What is there to figure out? We're fucking done." I spit at him.

"C'mon baby don't be like that," He sighed as if this was boring him, like I was a chore for him to be dealt with.

"Do you hear yourself? You sound fucking insane," I grit out, pulling at my arm but his grip is iron. "Let me go."

"Once you calm down, I will." He said coolly and my rage doubled over. Calm down?

I looked down at his hold on me, the area around his grip now reddening. That's when I realized, he bore no scars, the ones his wretched half-brothers gave him were simply gone.

I look at him confused, blinking at him in pure bewilderment. Was the rage getting to my brain? Hadn't his hands been scarred? "Hey look at me," He demanded and despite myself I did as he said, meeting his grey eyes. Wait— no hadn't they been hazel? I shook my head, unsure who this was that stood in front of me but it certainly wasn't my mate. "Us Illyrians can't stay with the same girl for long, but you knew that from the beginning didn't you lovely?" He cupped my cheek with his free hand, the feel of his hands without scars sent a shiver down my spine. It made my skin crawl and my heart ache. "You knew I'd tire of you eventually, isn't that right?" He beamed, spinning on his heel back to our bedroom door that was left ajar, the nude female still lounging in our bed.

His lack of wings sent a wave of unfamiliarity through me and suddenly this stranger didn't look anything like the male I knew, not one bit. From the way he moved to his all-too-smooth voice.

"Go on and get out of here, you bore me."

I gasped, sitting upright in my bed. It had all been a dream. A stupid, unrealistic dream. I blinked, rubbing at my eyes and erasing the feel of sleep from them. Blindly I reached towards Azriel's side of the bed only to find it empty. My anxiety spiked but it quickly decreased when I noticed his pillow was still warm.

I release a soft sigh as I clamber from our mattress, running my hands through my hair once or twice as I make my way out of our bedroom.

The nightmare was burnt into the back of my head, a searing tattoo that was growing infectious. I groaned, rubbing my head in agony as a migraine seeped through the cracks of my skull.

I stumble into the dining room, in search of a glass of water only to find my mate leaning over the stove, making breakfast.

Shadows curl around my ankles and he turns to look at me.

I decided I no longer was thirsty. "Good morning," He smiled softly but I only spun on my heel and trudged into the sitting room. I could still feel his eyes on me. "Did you sleep well?" He asks, stepping slightly out of the kitchen to watch me slump onto the couch, shrugging in reply to his question.

His brows crease but he nods and returns to the kitchen.

I folded my knees up to my chest, winding my arms around them tightly as I thought about that dream. He was hard to look at the same, I know I was being irrational, who he is in my dream has nothing to do with reality, but my mother was a seer, maybe the ability to see visions was passed down to me.

Azriel peeked his head out of the kitchen to look at me. "Breakfast is ready," He informed and I slowly nodded, my mind elsewhere.

He frowned, leaving the kitchen and approaching me. "Is everything alright?" He tilts his head, squatting down in front of me and taking my hands in his, the familiar feel of his scars makes me remember how foreign it felt in my dream. I knew it wasn't him, and practically I should just let this go. But I can't get the image out of my head.

"Where were you last night?" I manage to get out, squeezing his hands, memorizing those scars that I’ve never been so grateful for.

"I was at Rita's, with you and Cass," He said with a concerned expression. "Are you feeling okay baby?" He brings the back of his hand to my forehead.

I veer away from his touch and stand, moving past him, striding towards the kitchen. "I feel fine," I murmur while grabbing a plate from the cupboards.

"My love," Azriel sighs, shadows slinking up my calves as he wraps his arms around my torso, pulling me into his chest. I lean into the warmth as his lips come down to the junction between my shoulder and neck.

"I'm begging you, tell me what's wrong," He said into my skin. It wasn't fair of me to do this to him. "Let me make it up to you, whatever I did let me fix it," He pleads and I shake my head.

"You didn't do, anything," I sigh while building a plate of homemade food, by the Gods he had been kind enough to make me breakfast. "I just had a stupid dream, that's all." I pat his hand that was splayed on my abdomen, silently dismissing him.

He only clung to me tighter. "Don't do that," He lifts from my neck. "Don't ignore your feelings for my benefit, tell me what's on your mind," He said, his voice calm as his arms loosened, allowing me to turn around to face him.

I look up at him, into his hazel eyes that I often found myself drowning in. Who he was in my dream is not who stood in front of me now. I take one long breath before muttering, "You cheated on me."

His brows lift, his lip curling as if even the idea was preposterous.

"In my dream, I caught you with some other girl— it's kind of a blur but, it just, affected me," I shrug, brushing it off, and his scowl deepens.

"You know I would never even think about doing anything close to that—" He begins to wind himself up and my shoulders relax, smiling slightly as he looks just as disgusted as I must've in my dream.

"Az," I cup his jaw, my thumbs rubbing along his sharp cheekbones. "I know, I know you," I smile. "It shouldn't have gotten to me," I shake my head.

He intertwined our hands and brought them to his lips, softly kissing each of my knuckles in order to shut himself up.

"If I could, I'd kill whoever that guy was in your dreams," He hummed, and an amused smile spread across my lips.

"He didn't have your eyes," I shake my head, inching closer to his lips. "Didn't have your scars." I sling my arms around his shoulders. "Not even your wings," I purred, running a nail down the membrane of his impressively large black wings.

He looks at me with a raised brow, his eyes gleaming with something more primal.

Suddenly he hoists me up into his arms, taking me out of the kitchen and carrying me down the hall. I giggle, halting my teasing on his wing.

"Breakfast will get cold," I protest and he only shakes his head.

"Let it, I need to show you that you're the only girl I will ever want," He stated and my grin widened, as I kissed up his neck softly.

"Sounds good to me," I murmur as he lays me down on the mattress.

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[smallestapplin]

I too have been enamored with your Autobot Harem and I would like to see more please ...but I'm also picturing how fucking funny it would be if the Decepticons somehow heard about this new human friend and decide to kidnap them for Schemes(TM) So they send one of the minicons to scout things out, to see what this human is about, only to be bombarded with footage of Prowl, of all bots, holding the Autobot Darling in a mating press and fucking them stupid while they cry out his name

The 'Cons are baffled, frightened, and kinda grossed out and promptly nope the fuck outta there and spend the next few days trying to delete it from their memories

And they grow even more distressed when they realize just how *often* the Autobots have their way with you, including Optimus goddamn Prime, who seems to be the most addicted out of all of them, and everytime they try to sneak around there is at least one bot doing something lewd

The Autobots, meanwhile, haven't enjoyed this much peace and quiet for this long in a looooooong while, and they know exactly how to best enjoy it

Cackling at the same brain, but I adore the takes here >:) if you or anyone have anymore ideas don't be afraid to tell me

But I'd love to expand on this

🔞Warning : Autobot harem, Spitroasting, GN!Reader, decepticon pov so everything is referred to in Cybertronian words, non-consensual recording, non-consensual voyeurism🔞

Links to one here and chatting here

-

-

When the autobots don't make any moves it's not unusual, after all it's only when the decepticons attack will they be seen, so why not a stealth mission to try and get some intel and break their silly camaraderie?

Oh it was a genuis plan! Get dirt on them, spread it to their friends, and watch them kill each other instead, getting them out of the way once and for all.

Laserbeak was sent first to map up routes, and see who guards at certain times.

It was normal, it was routine even.

Until laserbeak catches sight (and recording) of you, a little human, slotted between Sunstreaker and Sideswipe.

Sunstreaker rutting into your tight valve, transfluid leaking from where you two connect. His hips wetly slapping into yours. Your stomach bulging from the large spike rearranging your insides.

And you struggling to take Sideswipe's spike in your intake while your digits toy with his valve. Drool and fluid leaking down your chin, tears sliding down your face as you struggle to breathe.

"Takin' our spikes like a champ, sweetspark."

"Such a greedy valve! Keeps suckin' me in like you want me to overload early-"

Soundwave is fast in disconnecting the line, shutting the video off and telling Laserbeak to get back to base prompto.

But that leaves the decepticons in silence.

What had they just seen? Cybertronians can interface with fleshies? What nonsense! That can't be right.

It starts off as disgust, but then they start talking and realizing this has been going on for ages.

"Those twins hate humans out of every autobot, so how did a fleshy manage?" Starscream speaks, venom dripping in his voice.

"Wait...wait remember when we attacked their base to get that energy switch, and we came across them, and Prowl nearly offlined Thundercracker?"

The room falls silent again.

Every instance comes flooding back to them, ones they would have never thought twice about are all starting to make sense. The autobots always became a bit more aggressive and protective when it came to defending you.

Even Optimus Prime himself nearly offlined Rumble for getting close to you, before picking you up and placing you with Bumblebee to get to safety.

"So...are all of them with one human or just those two?" Skywarp didn't even want to know, but of course if there is some weird romance thing going on, they could probably use that to their advantage.

Megatron sighs, looking to Soundwave "Tell Laserbeak to go back and pick up more evidence, as much as I hate to say that."

The larger bot sneers, loathing the idea of seeing more.

But Soundwave and Laserbeak do as told.

The minicon avoids the area he first saw you, Sideswipe, and Sunstreaker, making an effort to thoroughly explore the other areas, making note that Prowl and Jazz seemingly take guard duty at night.

By the next day you and those twins seem to have went back inside the base, where Laserbeak couldn't reach.

"Sir, we might need to send someone to sneak inside their base."

Megatron glances at Soundwave, who doesn't look away from the screen. They both know getting inside that base will be dangerous, especially with how protective those bots are when you're involved.

"Let's hold off on that, since they seem to enjoy fragging outdoors, I'm certain we will get something else."

Soundwave nods, and continues watching as nothing interesting shows up on camera.

Starscream groans, rolling his optics not believing this is what they are up to anymore, just waiting to see some human all bare taking a spike much too big for them.

How patheic!

He could easily break your valve in, much better than those autobots!.....wait...NO! He shakes his helm, getting rid of any thoughts of you he's having.

Grumbling himself about your stupid attractiveness, you're just some stupid fleshy that's probably so soft compared to him, and no doubt your valve would struggle to take him.

But he keeps up a disgusted act, not wanting anyone to know what he's thinking.

However Thundercracker is silent, optics not leaving the screen, watching whatever Laserbeak catches on camera.

His expression looks bored, but he's freaking out inside.

He can't believe a human could actually handle interfacing with a Cybertronian, and you took two like a champ! You look so cute, pretty valve stretched so wide just to take Sunstreaker.

Greedy little thing.

He wants you, he wants to know what it's like, wants to leave here and live somewhere peacefully with you in some far off woods.

He's only here out of fear.

But he can't believe he's letting himself fall for a human he's barely met, but he can't stop his thoughts from trailing off to you, picturing you crying out begging him for more.

He wonders how your valve tastes, and if you'd like he bury his glossa in your heat.

Thundercracker is broken from his thoughts by Starscream screeching.

"Have they no shame!?"

Several optics look back at the screen, only to see you with Hot Rod.

The flashy bot clearly rushing off with you, giggling as you two go through the trees to get a peaceful spot away from base.

Faintly through Laserbeak's mic they can hear you.

"Oh, you don't know how much I missed you, little light!"

You giggle, finding all his kisses to be tickling you.

"I missed you too, Roddy. I hope your missions haven't been to exhausting." You kiss him in turn, smiling when he lets out a dopey chuckle.

"Nothing I can't manage, I just wanted to get back to you safe and sound."

"Something tells me that's not the only reason." You tease him, your poor lover gives you a pleading expression.

"I got all my work done? Missions were a success since the decepticons have been quiet, oh! And I got my reports done!"

He's shaking, nearly vibrating in place waiting for something.

But you let out a dramatic sigh, playfully shaking your head.

"I suppose since you've been such a good boy then."

You kick your pants off, tossing them to the side, before plopping yourself down on his servo, spreading your legs wide for him.

"A good boy deserves a reward, right?"

Hot Rod drools, muttering 'thank you's over and over again as he buries his glossa into your greedy hole.

Moaning with you, unable to help himself when you taste so good!

The decepticons all look at each other, then to Megatron, awaiting his orders but even he is baffled.

Just how many bots do you have after you? How many do you already have under your thumb? In the fights where he has gotten close to you, you reek of Optimus far too strongly.

So you're with him too.

Do you have the entire autobot base at your beck and call?

"Megatron, what are your orders."

Soundwave's voice shakes him if his thoughts.

"If we can get ahold of that human, we might have our answers, however I'm not even sure we can with how frag addicted those filthy autobots are."

"Seems the human is never alone either, which would make that even harder."

Just what have they gotten themselves into?

[ddejavvu]

eddie being the speaker for venom’s adoring rant he eventually goes on at the end of your date when you’re just slowly strolling through a park, taking the long way home just to draw the evening out (but also eddie filtering it because some of the points are VERY INAPPROPRIATE and so venom gets mad and eventually takes over even though you are in public)

This post is 18+, minors dni.

"You're very pretty," Eddie narrates the voice in his head, but he shakes his head and tries again, "Pret-ty. He says- He says it weird, like prit-ty."

"Pretty," You try, voice low and gruff in a poor attempt to match Venom's, "Like that?"

"Spot on," Eddie laughs, and you let your chest shake with giggles as you roam down the sidewalk, "And he says your dress makes him think of blood, which," Eddie grimaces, "I'm sure, in his mind, is a compliment."

"Hm," You hum, glancing down at the red fabric you're draped in, "Yeah, I'll choose to take that kindly."

"And he wants to- woah," Eddie's eyes go wide and his hand tightens around your own momentarily, "Uh, hold your hand."

"What?"

"He wants to hold your hand!" Eddie insists, "And- Jesus, Venom! And tuck you into bed."

"I said fuck!" A voice roars from deep inside of Eddie's chest, and before you know it black ooze is emerging from your boyfriend's skin. You panic, yanking Eddie-turned-Venom into an alleyway between two apartment buildings and praying that no one is watching you.

"I said I wanted to fuck you into the bed," Venom clarifies, towering over you in the dark alley. If you didn't know him, in any other scenario, you'd be fainting from fear. But the hulking alien doesn't bother you now, and you put a hand over his mouth full of sharp teeth to try and get him to quiet down.

"Okay," You soothe, trying to acknowledge him so that he doesn't feel so misinterpreted, "Okay Venom. That's very- uh, nice. But you can't be out right now, you know that. Please just go back inside Eddie?"

"He is lying, I cannot trust him!" Venom huffs, voice not quieted at all, merely muffled by your hand, "I did not say I wanted to hold your hand. I said I wanted you to fuck my tongue!"

"Charming," You spit, face flushed with fire matching the heat in your belly, "Really, Venom, I- I'd like to, but- but we're out now, and I need you to quiet down and go back inside."

"Eddie does not deserve to take you on dates like this. He does not tell you how good you look."

"Yes he does!" You insist, still clamping your hand desperately over Venom's mouth. It does nothing, but you can't stand the thought of letting go.

"He uses words like gorgeous and beautiful. They are true," Venom promises, "But he never says sexy or delicious. Those are true, too, and you should hear them."

"Thank you, Venom," You croon, moving your hands to his cheeks to tug them closer to your face. He accepts a kiss to the teeth, seeing as he hasn't bothered to give himself lips in this form, and it's a rather odd sensation on your own. But it quiets him down, and he's calm under your touch.

"I'm happy you think those things," You grin, and you can't deny that you're flattered, "But if you want to say those things, we have to wait until we're home. I promise, as soon as the door shuts behind us you can join Eddie and I, okay? He'll say beautiful, you can say..." You fumble for a term, inches away from Venom's face, and he offers a helpful hint.

"Hot stuff!" He roars, definitely loud enough to be heard from the street.

"Okay! Okay, hot stuff," You nod, peering horrified at the mouth of the alleyway to make sure no one is coming to investigate, "That's very nice Venom, I'd love to hear that later."

"I will go back inside now," Venom tells you, and your heart rate spikes when you hear rushed footsteps coming your way, "But I will see you later."

"Later, later!" You promise, and the symbiote can't seem to melt into Eddie fast enough. As soon as the face in front of you is tan instead of goopy, you surge for it, locking lips with Eddie in a gesture you hope looks passionate and not rushed.

The man doesn't know what you're doing, but he doesn't care. He lets you slam him against the wall behind him with a soft groan, and you shut your eyes just as the footsteps thud beside you.

"Oh-" A resident of the nearby apartments scoffs, "Gross. Get a fucking room or something, you'll get an infection out here. Perverts!"

You flip the man off for good measure, and wait until he's a safe distance away to part from Eddie. He looks dazed from the kiss, but as soon as he comes to, he's got a message from Venom.

"He wants to know if he can bite that guy's head off," Eddie drawls, and you sigh, typical.

"No," You scoff, grabbing Eddie's hand and leading him back out of the alleyway, "But we should get home, he's got lots to say to me."

"And do to you," Eddie's face scrunches as he listens to Venom's rambling, shaking his head slightly at a suggestion you don't hear, "I- I don't think that's possible, buddy."

[ninibeingdelulu]

"I'm right here"

plot- an argument with depressed geto CLICK ME

"I can't believe you're being like this!"

Suguru's voice cracked with frustrated accusation, slamming his textbook down with enough force to make you flinch.

"It's like you're purposefully trying to drive a wedge between Satoru and me just because you're jealous!"

You felt your hands ball into fists at your sides as that familiar spike of molten defensiveness surged through your veins.

How dare he diminish your concerns so callously after everything you'd been through together? As if your feelings were some trite, immature flight of fancy rather than the genuine loneliness you'd been grappling with lately.

"Jealous?" you scoffed, tossing your pencil aside with a heated glare.

"You really think I'm that petty? That this is just me throwing some pathetic tantrum over not getting enough attention from Wunderkind Geto?"

Suguru opened his mouth - undoubtedly to fire back with another biting remark - but you barreled forward, finally allowing the dam holding back weeks of bottled resentment to burst open.

No more mincing words or letting things fester until they'd reached this ugly, toxic fever pitch.

"I'm worried about you, jackass!"

You shoved off the couch, gesturing wildly as the torrent of pent-up emotions flooded free in a tumultuous rush.

"That's all I've wanted from the start! For you to actually let me in about what's been eating you up so badly lately that you've become a total goddamn stranger!"

Suguru seemed to visibly deflate somewhat under the brunt force of your outburst. But that brief hesitation was rapidly replaced by the familiar stubborn set of his squared jaw and narrowed onyx gaze which indicated the imminent eruption of his own fiery temper.

"Oh, so now you're my therapist?" he sneered, bracing his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward in your direction with acerbic challenge.

"Sorry I've been such an inconvenience while busting my ass trying to actually secure my future instead of wasting time with teenage melodrama!"

You shook your head in disbelief, throwing your hands up as another harsh bark of laughter cut through the tension like a serrated blade.

"Un-fucking-believable...Is that seriously what you think this is about? Me being petty over you 'wasting time' with dumb high school bullshit?!"

Suguru simply glowered in stony silence, the muscle in his clenched jaw visibly twitching.

Waiting for you to either continue your tirade or offer more proof of your apparent delusions over the state of things between you.

Well, if he wanted you to spell out the tangled knot of anguish and confused longing festering in your chest with stark clarity...Then so be it.

"I'm in love with you, you arrogant prick!"

The confession exploded out of you with enough volcanic force to make you immediately slap a hand over your mouth.

Yet once uncorked, there was no recapturing the deluge as it raged on, raw and unfettered.

"And it's been ripping me apart watching you spiral so far down in this pit of darkness without letting anyone in to try and pull you back out!"

Suguru looked as though he'd been struck across the face.

All residual ire seeping away into slack-jawed shock and visceral vulnerability cracking those steely exterior walls you'd slammed against so fruitlessly in the past.

His throat bobbed in an audible gulp, those intense obsidian eyes you used to lose yourself in now swimming with a thousand different conflicting emotions roiling in their tumultuous depths.

The sudden, stark silence stretching between you was enough to buffer even the frantic hammering of your pulse thundering past your ears.

The fear of obliterating one of the most important relationships of your life in that combustive outpouring constricted around your throat like a vise of pure dread.

Then, after what felt like an eternity...Suguru's expression shifted again.

His features settling into an almost haunted kind of resignation piercing directly into your very soul. When he spoke, his typically unflappable baritone emerged cracking and subdued - the most naked glimpse you'd ever witnessed of what laid beneath the surface he fought so vigilantly to repress.

"I...I know..." he confessed in a gust of breath barely above a whisper.

One shaky hand scrubbed over his face, refusing to meet your wide-eyed stare. "Fuck, I've known how you felt and I-I kept pushing you away so I wouldn't hurt you more by—"

The strangled catch in his throat cut off whatever fragile truth seemed to be teetering on the precipice of being laid bare between you.

Suguru's free hand balled into a fist clenching the material of his pants until his knuckles bored white while haunted shadows flickered across his downturned visage.

Never before had you witnessed him look so...utterly wrecked. So excruciatingly human under the weight of inner demons you'd never known to be lurking underneath it all.

Not until they'd already carved out pieces of him you might never get the chance to recover.

But you couldn't allow either of you to retreat into that isolating darkness anymore. Not after clawing your way this deep into the open wounds between you both.

Too many regrets were already trailing behind in your wake...

The deafening silence hung thick and palpable in the wake of Suguru's shattered admission.

You could practically taste the roiling torrent of unspoken truths and anguished vulnerability thrashing violently just beneath the surface he was struggling so viscerally to repress.

You knew with every fiber of your being that if you didn't reach out in this pivotal moment, the fragile threads binding you both together risked snapping under the immense strain.

And you refused to let that happen - even if it meant wading blindly into the shadowy depths of whatever demons were currently carving him hollow from the inside.

Tentatively, you bridged the couch cushions separating you and laid your palm overtop that trembling fist clenched with white-knuckled force against his thigh.

Suguru flinched slightly at the contact, but didn't immediately recoil away. Emboldened by that microscopic victory, you gently pried his fingers open to lace them through your own in silent invitation.

"Suguru..." you murmured, injecting as much tender reassurance into his name as humanly possible.

"Whatever it is causing you so much pain...you don't have to keep shouldering it alone anymore. I'm right here, okay? I'm not going anywhere."

His jaw clenched spasmodically, those turbulent eyes still steadfastly averted from meeting your concerned gaze.

You could see the muscle twitching in his cheek from the sheer force he was exerting to keep that impenetrable mask locked firmly in place.

But you refused to relent, rubbing the pad of your thumb soothingly across his knuckles in hopes of coaxing him to simply breathe. To open himself up even a sliver after all this time...

"Please," you implored, daring to shuffle closer until your thighs were a hairsbreadth from touching.

Until that painfully unguarded expression was directly in your line of vision, begging to be witnessed without judgment or reprimand.

"Let me help carry this for you, 'Guru. You've been alone with this anguish for too long..."

Finally, finally , some of that tightly wound tension began leeching from his hunched shoulders as if the words had sliced through some of those invisible restraints shackling him down.

Suguru raised his other hand to rake shakily through his tousled raven locks, unravelling before your very eyes.

When his gaze at last lifted to lock with yours, the sight of those inky pools swimming with so much naked, harrowing vulnerability physically winded you.

"I'm so afraid..." he confessed in a ragged whisper thick with shame and trepidation.

His hand convulsed where you clutched it in your lap as if the admission had torn open a fresh, gaping wound inside.

"I've convinced myself I have this grand purpose to dedicate myself to completely, but there's a part of me that wonders if it's all been an excuse...a distraction from facing how truly lost and messed up I've become."

Tears glistened in those haunted obsidian depths and your heart shattered at the sight of Suguru's meticulously constructed walls crumbling before your eyes.

The instinctive need to pull him into your embrace and chase those demons away was near overpowering.

Yet you resisted, allowing him to unfurl at his own pace without outside influence. Simply being the steady presence and supportive tether he so clearly needed more than he'd realized.

"Everyone told me I was destined for greatness after awakening to my talents...That I possessed a gift entrusted to rectify this curse plaguing our kind."

Suguru's voice had descended into a hoarse, halting murmur as the floodgates burst completely open.

Each gravelly syllable etched in anguish carved into his very marrow.

"But deep down, I've always been so goddamn afraid of failing. Of disappointing everyone and being seen as the fraud I've convinced myself I must be for harboring any weakness or-or..."

His words finally failed, fading into a ragged exhalation torn from his very core as he lifted his imploring gaze beseechingly to yours.

"God, why am I like this? Why does any of this matter when all I've wanted is to open my eyes and see you smiling back at me without all this bullshit driving us apart?"

Your throat constricted wordlessly, scorching tears blurring your vision at the utter desolation contorting Suguru's features into the most wrenching expression imaginable.

Here was the strongest, most indomitable person in your life bearing the very depths of his shattered soul before you in total surrender.

And you instantly knew in that pivotal, crystalline moment - there was nowhere else you could ever fathom being that wasn't by his side.

Providing the steadfast strength and acceptance for those fragmented pieces until he felt whole enough to stand on his own once more.

There would be more tears, more shards to sift through together in confronting this pervasive darkness slowly consuming him from the inside out.

But the first painful, cathartic step had been taken. And you fully intended to never allow Suguru to slip backward into that isolating abyss ever again.

So you did the only thing left to reassure him he wasn't alone in this monumental fight for his very sense of self and purpose.

You surged forward and pulled him into your fiercely protective embrace - cradling his shuddering form flush against your chest as his own quiet sobs finally shook loose in heartrending waves.

"I'm here...I'm right here, 'Guru..." you whispered over and over into the downy strands of ebony hair tickling your lips.

"We're going to get through this, I swear it..."

Your shared tears and ragged breaths mingled achingly between your twined bodies as a new, mended path forward gradually unfurled with each passing heartbeat.

From the ashes of everything you thought you'd understood about him and the conflicted world he inhabited...

Bound now by the decision to walk whatever darkened road stretched ahead completely united in purpose and love at long last laid bare - come what may.

[taurasiluvr]

OMG PHONE SEX WITH CAITLIN 😣😣💕💕 NEED THAT

#needthat

 ⠀ ── ⠀warnings ;; nsfw under the cut, mdni. fingering, praise.

"been thinking about you all day, baby." caitlin's words came from your phone, her voice rough with exhaustion.

you smiled at her words as you pulled the phone closer to your ears. "yeah, me too, baby."

she'd been gone for only 3 days but those 3 days felt like an eternity, that was one of the negatives of dating a professional athletes. you wish you could come with her on away-games but unfortunately, you couldn't and had to settle for watching your girlfriend through the screen.

"good," she continued before pausing. "couldn't get you outta my head, sweet girl. everyone is teasing me about how distracted i am, but i don't care. they just don’t get it, how much i miss you."

you felt a warmth spread through you at her words, the longing and love evident in her voice. "miss you too, cait. it’s been so quiet here without you."

there was a comfortable silence as you felt your eyes flutter shut until you heard caitlin's frustrated sigh through the phone. "fuck, need you so bad baby."

you knew exactly what that noise meant, a smirk curving your lips as your stomach twisted in need. "yeah?"

"yeah," caitlin sighed again, you could practically see her expression. "you're my good luck charm, what am i supposed to do without you giving me good luck head before games?" her voice was laced with amusement but you could sense her frustration.

your cheeks flushed at her words, your body responding instantly. "i guess you'll just have to win this one for me," you teased, trying to keep your voice steady.

caitlin groaned, the sound low and throaty. "you know that's not fair, babe. you're making it really hard to focus."

"am i?" you asked innocently, biting your lip to suppress a giggle.

"yeah, you are," she admitted, her voice dropping an octave. "can't stop thinking about how i'm gonna fuck you senseless when i get back,"

you swallowed hard at the seriousness in her voice. "yeah?"

she chuckled. "yeah, princess. gonna fuck you so good, you won't be able to walk straight after."

"caitlin," you breathed, feeling your face flush as you began to toy with the hem of your pajama shorts.

"yeah, baby?" caitlin's voice was full of heat, and you could almost feel her breath against your ear.

you bit your lip, the tension between you palpable even through the phone. "i need you," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

"need you too," she responded, the sound of her shifting on her bed sending shivers down your spine. "fuck, gonna touch yourself for me, sweetheart? can you do that for me?"

your heart raced as you complied, slipping your finger to your underwear, sighing. "yeah," you said, your voice trembling with anticipation.

"good girl," she praised, and you could hear the approval in her voice. "now, touch yourself. imagine it's me, baby."

you let out a shaky breath, your hand moving between your legs, fingers teasing your folds. "caitlin," you moaned softly, your body responding to her words.

"that's it, baby," she encouraged, her voice rough with desire. "tell me how it feels."

"so good," you whispered, your fingers moving in slow circles. "wish it was you."

"me too, princess," caitlin groaned, the sound of her own heavy breathing making your arousal spike. "can't wait to get my hands on you. to feel how wet you are for me."

you whimpered, your movements becoming more urgent as you circled your clit. "'m so wet, cait. thinking about you has me soaked."

"fuck," she growled, the sound almost feral. "want you so bad. keep going, baby. cum for me."

you bit your lip, your body teetering on the edge. "'m close," you gasped, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak.

"let go, princess," caitlin urged, her voice a husky whisper. "cum for me."

with a cry, you let the waves of pleasure crash over you, your body shaking with the intensity of your release. "oh f-fuck, caitlin," you moaned, riding out the last of your orgasm.

"oh fuck, wish i was there," she murmured, her voice filled with longing. "you sound so beautiful when you come."

"wish you were, too." you whimpered as you heard caitlin's breath hitch, an indicator she was close too. "make me feel so good, baby."

"yeah, keep talking sweetheart." caitlin got out, her voice rough as she sighed.

you took a deep breath, your own voice becoming a seductive whisper. "love the way you touch me, caitlin. the way your hands feel on my body, how you know just what to do to make me cum."

"fuck, yeah," caitlin groaned, the sound of her moving on the bed making your own arousal spike again. "keep going, princess. ’m so close."

"need you so bad," you continued, your words coming out in a breathless rush. "can't wait to feel you inside me, to have you make me cum again and again."

caitlin's breath hitched, her moans growing louder. "god, i can almost feel you, sweetheart. so perfect, so fucking perfect."

"wish i could kiss you right now, run my hands down your body, feel how wet you are for me," you said, your own need building once more as you imagined her there with you.

"oh yeah, fuck," she gasped, her voice filled with urgency. "tell me you want me, princess."

"want you, caitlin. want you so bad. cum for me, baby. please."

with a loud moan, caitlin reached her climax, her breaths coming in ragged gasps through the speaker. "fuck, yes," she cried out, the sound sending shivers down your spine.

you both lay there in the aftermath, the distance between you feeling a little smaller after sharing such an intimate moment. "that was amazing," you whispered, a satisfied smile on your lips.

"it was," Caitlin agreed, her voice softer now, filled with love and exhaustion. "can't wait to be with you again, to really hold you."

"soon, baby," you reassured her, your heart full. "we'll be together soon."

"i love you," she murmured, the sound of her voice like a warm embrace. "so much,"

"i love you too, caitlin," you replied, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. "goodnight, baby."

"goodnight, princess," she said, her voice tender and content.

if you enjoyed, any interaction is greatly appreciated!

with love, rylin 𝜗𝜚

[bokutone]

˗ˏˋ REALIZING THEY FELL IN LOVE ˎˊ˗

including: iwaizumi hajime, kageyama tobio, atsumu miya, akaashi keiji. genre/warnings: just fluff. a/n: voilà!! i rewatched hq and i'm in my feels.

iwaizumi — he was quick to notice it and to say it. it was after a long day at work; he came home feeling tired with his shoulders and back aching, you noticed his state almost immediately, the fake smile on his face didn’t reach his eyes and the way his body moved didn’t match the energy of his voice. you sent him to the bathroom, almost pushing him to the room and urged him to take a warm bath with the promise of joining him later. 

when he had you in his arms while you babbled about your day, he said it. the warmth of your body against him, the way your hands played with his fingers and how you tried to distract him from his work were enough to fill his heart with love, the impulsive way the words left his mouth didn’t startle you how he thought. you turned your face with a bright smile plastered on your face and said i love you back so quickly that he wondered how long you were waiting to say it. 

kageyama — he's hyper-aware of the feeling. he can't pinpoint exactly when it started, but it probably was when he saw how carefully you listened to his explanation about volleyball and how happy you looked when he offered to teach you how to play. your smile was huge, and the way your eyes shined when he praised you after the not-so-bad spike you did was everything. he doesn't know what to do, should he tell you? do you love him too? even though he's very straightforward with his comments sometimes, he's careful about them when they're related to you. the relationship is a little awkward after that, and when you confront him about it, he tells you so abruptly that neither of you can see what's happening until the words are said.

atsumu — he didn’t know it until you said “i love you” first. he’s clueless about his own feelings for a while, not sure if what he feels is true love or just the comfort that having you in his life brings him (he’s a little dumb, but cute). 

it was probably when he accidentally eavesdropped on your conversation with your friend a few weeks later that he realized that it’s love and not other feelings that make his heart go faster when you laugh and hug him. it hit him hard though, listening to your low voice mumbling that you’re not sure if he loves you is the last thing that he wants to hear. and so, the next thing you hear before the response of your friend is atsumu screaming that he loves you so much that you’ll be going to end up getting bored of him. 

akaashi — he wasn’t shocked when realized he fell in love with you, he was actually relieved because all those thoughts swimming in his mind finally started to make sense. but he’s nervous, he’s an overthinker, and suddenly his pretty head was filled with the idea that maybe you don’t love him back. 

he’s distant for a couple of days, you have no idea of what is happening because he doesn’t have the courage to talk to you about it, akaashi doesn’t know how to admit he’s in love with you without considering that maybe, but just maybe, you already know that he’s in love because you are too. 

rbs and comments are really appreciated!

[heechwe]

between you and me | 𝐲𝐣𝐢

୨୧ pairing: yang (I.N) jeongin x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 3.2k ୨୧ genre: light comedy, smut ୨୧ tags: college au, TA!reader, collegestudent!jeongin, a bit perverted jeongin, degradation, dirty talk, pet names, body worship, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, cum stuffing ୨୧ synopsis: You're his TA; Jeongin's not supposed to be thinking about you, the picture-perfect girl. Yet, he can't control himself or his physical reactions when he's around you. He needs to let his feelings out once and for all, before he spends another class sexually frustrated.

⟢ AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you to my lovely friends for beta-ing this fic once again (@xomakara, @lovetaroandtaemin, @tbzhub, @mini-mews, and @gyubakeries).

Jeongin thinks now that you’re doing it on purpose.

Whenever you catch his eye amid Professor Bang’s lectures and give him a secret smile or conspiratory wink, he senses what you’re doing. The first couple of times at the start of the semester, he thought he was delusional. 

You only spoke a handful of times about his attendance and missed marks on the first assignment. There was no way that you, his ethnolinguistics teacher’s TA, has an interest in him. He’s just a little sophomore, still indecisive about what dinner to eat in the dining hall.

Jeongin reckons you have it all figured out by now. You’re too composed, too structured, too mature. Too perfect for someone like him.

Now, he thinks it’s all a cat-and-mouse game to you, and you’re simply waiting for him to take the bait.

Right now, you have your chin in your hand, flitting between typing notes and comments on Professor Bang’s lecture on your computer and staring at Jeongin. He’s spent the past hour pretending not to notice your eyes burning into him. Now, he no longer cares.

After a handful of minutes sharing glances, you tug at your bottom lip between your teeth. Instantly, Jeongin feels the blood flow out of his face and into the center of his legs. Thank God there’s a large desk sparing everyone, including you, a peek at the growing tightness of his sweatpants.

He wonders what your body would do in his hands. How it would feel to palm your chest with his fingers, drag each digit along your skin until they discover the secret parts of you that love pleasure. What it would feel like to capture that bottom lip with his own teeth.

The minutes drag on, achingly slow yet incredibly fast, until Professor Bang signals the end of class. Jeongin can’t stand up yet, still sporting a tent in his pants he can’t quell with a few quick absurd and horribly unsexy thoughts.

Gym socks. Family dinners. Hyunjin’s morning breath. Nothing works. 

As other students and Professor Bang himself make their way to the exit, Hyunjin stays stock still. You gather your stuff, but you notice out of the corner of your eye  Jeongin remaining in his seat. You smile at him before asking, “Yinnie, you alright?”

Don’t fucking call me that, he thinks with a tightening gut. It takes any of the power from his thoughts away, your voice and your words keeping a firm grip on his body’s current state.

“Fine!” Jeongin responds, voice a little too high and clipped.

You chuckle and step closer when you have all of your materials in your bookbag, sauntering over like you aren’t the cause of his current demise. “You didn’t take a lot of notes today. Something on your mind?”

What do you think?

He chuckles breathlessly and taps his pencil against his still open notebook. “Nervous about the final next month, I think.” He tries to focus on your face and not how close you are to him, the desk separating the two of you by a half a dozen feet. “Sometimes I get easily distracted.”

You click your teeth, smiling the entire time. “Well, if you ever need help to get back on track”—you lean your head a fraction closer to his over the desk, making all the nerves in his body spike—”just let me know.”

You re-adjust the strap of your bag and walk out of the classroom. Jeongin’s mind remains a jumbled mess as his dick stays incredibly hard, the implicitness of your words and actions leaving the poor guy without a clue how to relieve his recent problem.

“Did she actually see your boner?” Hyunjin asks before taking another swig of his beer.

“I don’t know!” Jeongin groans face-first into his pillow. “I felt so confident before I actually opened my mouth, and then it all went south.”

Jeongin ran back to his dorm after the debacle this morning to not only jerk off but bitch about his problems to Hyunjin, his roommate, the second the older one arrived home. In an hour, Jeongin's European Art History class begins, but he's too exhausted, both physically and mentally, to concentrate.

“While your dick started pointing north, huh?” Hyunjin winks and chuckles.

“Hyune, it’s not funny,” Jeongin says with muffled sadness.

His best friend sets his beer down and sighs. “It’s not wrong to like her, given she likes you back. Just try to control yourself and ask her out next time.”

“How do I do that when even the smallest sound from her mouth makes me hard?” He rises from his bed to stare at his friend, utterly lost.

“Maybe you don’t need to talk,” Hyunjin suggests, his eyes glinting with suggestive flare. “Grab her after class when the opportunity strikes.”

Jeongin ponders the thought. If all of his assumptions were incorrect, it would only be a short time before the class ends and he’ll never have to see you again and his desires can die right where they began. And if not, who knows where it will go?

Jeongin pops the bubblegum against his lips before walking into the classroom. To his surprise, the only one in the room is you and another student. Professor Bang would typically be at the podium, rifling through papers, but you stand in his place.

It wasn’t abnormal for you to teach here and there if Bang was absent. But seeing you in a floral midi skirt and low-cut top, he thinks he may sport another erection throughout the entire three hours of class.

“Hey,” you say when you look up from your laptop, instantly smiling. “You’re early today.”

He smiles and places his items in the front row. Choosing to sit directly in front of you today, he has to calm the increasing tempo of his heartbeat. He has to pace himself and relax. It’s only a smile, a world-upending one, but one that has no obligations or innuendos attached. “Professor Bang out sick?”

You nod with a solemn smile. Earlier that day, Professor Bang notified everyone that his daughter needed a babysitter and that you would be in charge; however, Jeongin wants to hear the words from your perfect lips. Any excuse to converse with you is a win in his mind. “You’ll be stuck with me today.” 

Leaning down to rifle with the papers on your desk, you give the perfect view of your cleavage for Jeongin to witness. And there goes the rest of his composure.

His body clams up as he feels heat pooling again in the worst place. Your chest is so supple, he thinks for a fraction of a second what it be like to cover the top of your breasts in hickeys that only he could see in private, knowing how he made them and how you would wear them with secret pride. 

But he can’t think about that now, not when he’s trying to hold some semblance of maturity.

He jams his notebook over his bottom half and walks over to your spot at the podium and adjacent desk. You feel his presence, but you don’t look up at him. You only move your head a fragment of an inch to let him know you’re listening. He still has an unobstructed view of your chest, one that’s arguably better now that he’s right in front of you. The sight shouldn’t make him stutter so terribly, but it does. “I-I actually meant to talk to you about s-something, Miss—”

Before you can respond, your plastic coffee cup flips up on its top to douse your papers and shirt with coffee. The milky brown liquid gets everywhere, dampening your skin and the fabric of your shirt. If Jeongin didn’t know any better, he swears he can see your nipples poking through the now dampened cloth of your shirt and nude bralette.

He immediately throws his notebook on the desk and takes off his jacket. Handing it to you to cover up, he realizes too slowly he’s given you an eagle eye shot of the tent in his pants. You blush before he takes his notebook back, but he hopes it's because the sticky coffee has soaked you and can't be cleaned until after class. He has to believe that, anyway.

Jeongin clamps down hard on the gum between his teeth, so hard it may become part of the crown of one of his molars at this point. You, still damp and looking up at him with doe eyes as you wait for his request, will be the death of him.

“Can I just talk to you after we’re done?” he asks, his pants brutally tight against his crotch. Students trickle in with only ten more minutes left before class starts, his initial plan on hold until everyone leaves.

You nod with another smile, motioning him back to his seat so you can dry the wet papers in the open air. Even as students look on and some offer to help you out, you can’t keep your focus off of Jeongin.

And this time, he hopes you see how your current state affects him. 

“Sorry, guys. Had a little spill before you got here,” you laugh boldly. “Now, onto endangered languages.”

When everyone departs to move onto their next classes, the front of the room still smells like the caramel and vanilla coffee from the accident before class. The aroma reminds Jeongin that his problem has not gone away, not for a single second, and if he doesn’t relieve it somehow, he will implode.

He stands up from his desk to make his move, watching as you move away from the podium to be directly in front of him. He has no reason to conceal himself from you now, but to remain professional, he hides with the help of his notebook once again.

“So,” Jeongin starts, “I want to just clear the air between us, so if you don’t feel the same we never have to—”

“Jeongin, what are you talking about?” He thought he loved the nickname you gave him before, but his given name on your lips almost makes him whimper out loud. 

You look at him wide-eyed, but he sees the ghost of a smirk on your lips. The confusion you’re feigning doesn’t meet your mouth, giving you away. “You know what I’m talking about,” he responds.

“I don’t think I do. Enlighten me.” You anchor yourself to the desk and cross one leg over the other, clearly amused.

He knows now, for certain, you’re teasing him. “You don’t think I’ve noticed how you look at me?” His voice is barely a whisper. It teeters on the edge between anxiety and lust. He wants to go there, to bridge the distance, but not before you supply him with some sort of physical affirmation.

“I was gonna ask you the same question.” You step towards him until he’s a breath away. You take the hand not holding his notebook gently into yours and guide it to above your skirt. His breath hitches when he feels the wetness between your thighs, even through two layers of clothes. “You feel that? That’s all because of you.”

He takes the hand you guided to your body and moves it to his erection, removing his notebook from his waist so you can see and feel the torture he's felt. Not just today, but for the past few months, it’s been like an inferno slowly crawling up his skin and setting him aflame. “You’re not the only one who’s in need of relief.”

“I won’t tell anyone if you won’t, Yinnie.”

Those eight words unburden him from what little reservation he had left. He takes your mouth in his, claiming all the explicit and implicit words shared between you with his tongue. The first kiss is slow and world-stopping, the chasm between the tension finally sewn shut. The ones that follow are anything but slow, but they still stop the world around the two of you.

He unbuttons the center of your shirt as you tug on the hem of his sweater. He explores every piece of skin he can with his hands. The parts not occupied by his fingertips welcome his mouth, your body on fire for him. “Slow down,” you say, although the words hold no weight. He knows it. “We can’t do this here.”

“I don’t care.” He stuffs his face in between your breasts, finally placing a hickey on the tops of the slopes with reckless abandon. You writhe against his kisses, bucking up into his mouth when his breath hits one of your nipples, the bud pebbling at his attention. “I want you. Now.”

“What if someone—”

“You know you don’t give a single fuck if we get caught,” Jeongin growls, unzipping the midi skirt at your waist so it falls to the floor. He’s never been this rough, this frantic. He can only blame it on the unresolved tension he’s been sitting with for what feels like forever. You are beyond blame; you’ve given yourself to him willingly, and he’s forever grateful.

He runs his hands over your waist and exposed chest. Your breasts in his hands feel exactly like he imagined, hefty but tender. “Seeing as you eye-fuck me every chance you get, I’d say you’ve been waiting for this to happen.”

You moan at the way he nips at your neck and collarbones in tandem with his squeezing of your chest, practically biting down with his teeth as he kisses your skin. You rip his clothes off in quick succession, his sweater and undershirt joining the pile you’ve made on the floor.

“I promise I’ll be quick.” Like rapid fire, he lifts you onto the desk and splays you out over the hard plastic top, his face practically kissing your heat already. “I just need to taste you.”

You mewl at his words. He lifts your hips so he can discard your underwear and leave it in the heap of clothes. He can’t pretend he didn’t notice the wet patch at its center before he threw them to the side, though.

And at the sight of your exposed cunt, Jeongin refuses to waste another second. He dives into the cleft of your thighs with reckless abandon. Long strips and flat licks up and down your pussy make you cry out. You reach down to yank him by the top of his brown hair, rolling your hips into his face as his nose bumps your clit.

It’s even better, tastes better, than all the fantasies he conjured in the comfort of his bedroom or the embarrassing public space of the common showers. He’s thought about it for so long, too long, but all the inner workings of his mind compared to this is child’s play.

He’s not ashamed to admit eating you out may be one of the best things he’s ever done. And he knows now that he’s a liar when he said he would be quick. He’ll take his time for all it’s worth, even if the lights go out and the department building closes up for the day.

You say his name repeatedly, alongside “Just like that” as well as “Please don’t stop.”

He detaches his lips from your folds with a pornographic suckling noise and finally drops  both his pants and boxers. His cock slaps against his stomach, the tip red and leaking. He’s done enough to prepare you for this moment.

When he slides in, he covers the entirety of your body with his own, using his long legs to keep his feet firm on the floor as he thrusts. You moan into his mouth, his tongue exploring the insides of your cheeks and the roof of your mouth.

The sounds of his skin slapping against yours are almost as lewd and animalistic as his pace going in and out of you. He tugs your bottom lip with his teeth. He feels only a smidgeon of guilt when a fragment of the skin speckles with blood, his desires giving way to acting on his impulses. But you don’t mind. If anything, you become more vocal.

He groans when you lick the blood at the corner of your lips. “You’re so dirty,” he says, pressing two of his fingers to the seam of your mouth. “Suck.”

You latch onto his digits eagerly, taking them and sucking until they practically hit the back of your throat. He chuckles darkly at the action, loving that your sexual energy matches his. He removes them from your wet mouth to circle your clit, the puffy flesh begging for as much attention as your hole.

“Oh, fuck.” Your eyes roll into the back of your head. “Jeongin—”

He takes your chin in his other hand, holding it in place as he continues slamming into you mercilessly and flicking at your clit with the pads of his fingers. “That’s it, baby. Who’s making you feel like this?”

“You, Jeongin, you.” Your moans verging on screams fill the room, the sounds bouncing off the walls in salacious echoes. “God, it’s so good.”

“When you spilled that coffee all over yourself earlier, I couldn’t help picturing my cum on your chest. And you just left yourself exposed for me and everyone else to see. You’re filthy and you don’t even realize it.” He clamps down on your neck as your face remains placid, creating a new mark on you while you stay still in his hold. “Lucky for me, I love that you’re a dirty whore.”

You whimper and whine, meeting each thrust of Jeongin’s hips. “Yunnie, I’m gonna come—”

“Not yet,” he warns, halting the hand against your clit from circling any more. “Not without me, baby.”

He knows he’s just as close to his orgasm as you are, but he wants you to know who’s in charge, despite your higher educational status. Despite every worry that he wouldn’t measure up to you, you wedged underneath him proves to be the best proof to the contrary.

And now, he gets to feel your release on his mouth, his fingers, his cock. It’s an ego boost as much as it is an incredible gift to be given.

“Fuck,” he swear, “where do you want me to come, baby?”

“Inside,” you say immediately, “I want to feel all of you.”

The words on your tongue sound almost like poetry. He can’t fathom how he got so lucky. “Come with me,” he whispers in a hoarse voice. “Come all over me.”

His orgasm comes like a wave breaking against a cliff. The second your pussy flutters around his cock, signaling your release, he’s done for. He whines pitifully as his seed coats the insides of your walls, your body at his mercy as he fucks all of his cum into you.

When he watches small droplets of his release seeping out of you, he stuffs it all back in with his fingers. And when his fingers glisten with the residue, you suck them clean with a sinful smirk.

Jeongin chuckles, gleefully satiated, and kisses the tip of your nose. “I think I’m starting to love ethnolinguistics now.”

You giggle into his neck. “I bet you’ll love ethnosemantics next semester.”

“As long as you’re TA’ing it, babe,” Jeongin says before capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

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