#no beta we die like jet

[ravennhearted]

My FAVORITE fanfic tag is “no beta we die like [insert character here]” it never fails to make me cackle

[sunnytastic]

my favorite part of fandom is that each one has a unique "no beta, we die like ____" tag

[paranoid-spotlight-everest]

Schoolboy Crush (zukaang)

Part 1:The Meet-cute(with fiery tension!)

Aang grinned, the wind in his face as his penguin slid down the hill. He was speeding down and then… whoomp! The fire nation person attacking Sokka lost balance as Aang slid under his legs. Aang couldn't see it, but he could hear the shout of surprise and "Oomph-" as he landed on his face. 

Aang's penguin bucked him off as he slid to stop in front of Katara, Sokka, and the village.

"Hey, Katara! Hey, Sokka!" The 115-year-old airbender greeted. 

"Hey, Aang." Sokka grumpily replied. He had grey and black paint on his face, probably a water tribe custom. "Thanks for coming."

Aang turned back to soldiers. "No pro-" he stopped, frozen. Not literally, even though the South Pole was probably cold to someone who couldn't regulate their temperature.

The soldier he had knocked over had gotten up, smoothly rising to his feet. He had such… presence. Such confidence. 

His brow furrowed in concentration, his handsome haughty as he extended his arms, and then fell into a firebending stance. Aang watched his elegant posture, his strong, armor plated arms, torso, and chest, before he realized fire nation soldiers were surrounding him.

This probably wasn't the best time to stare, slack jawed. Aang rose, but didn't fall into a defensive stance. He struck… some kind of pose. He was going for charming and cool.

"So, handsome," he smirked, hoping he looked roguish and charming. "You're looking for me? I'm flattered!"

The soldiers were a bit too close for comfort, interrupting this meet-cute Aang and Fire-guy had going on, so Aang blew them back a couple feet, using his most elegant and exaggerated moves.

Fire-guy was slack jawed, obviously wowed by Aang's skilled flirtation and impressive bending. Aang puffed out his chest and grinned widely.

Then Fire-guy spluttered, cheeks flaming. The snow melted off his armor, and Fire-guy fell into a powerful, defensive stance. His brow furrowed, and a concentrated frown tugged down his beautiful pink lips. He was SOOO HOTTT, the confidence, the subtle firebending like it was nothing, his face, the strength! 

"You're the airbender?!" Fire-guy exclaimed, and the awe in his tone was enough to encourage Aang's confidence, despite the undoubted danger.

Aang's cheeks heated, and a smile tugged up his face as Fire-guy asked, "You're the Avatar?"

He heard Sokka and Katara voice their surprise, but he tamped down his guilt to focus. Fire-guy was coming closer, strong arms flexed into a fighting stance.

"I've spent years preparing for this encounter," he said, his voice smooth and almost soft. Aang felt weak. He knew this probably wasn't intentionally romantic, but boyyyyy, was it hot.

"Training, meditating," Fire-guy continued, his large, practiced hands flexing into a firebending stance, still walking closer. He was pretty short, only had about an inch or so on Aang himself, who had yet to get his growth spurt.

Aang was forced to step back, due to Fire-guy's offensive position. But he wasn't discouraged, he and Fire-guy had common ground! "I meditate too! Y'k-" 

Fire-guy spoke right over him. Rude! 

"You're just a child." He snarled, and Aang scowled. 

"We're like, the same age! And you're just a teenager!" This was banter, this was fine. 

Fire-guy looked like he was about to say something, his beautiful face screwed up in focused concentration. 

"A very hot teenager!" Aang rushed to add, winking with his most charming smile.

Fire-guy's frown slipped, replaced by surprise, and hopefully the good kind. He spluttered again, and the soldiers with him traded looks. 

"Hot?!" He squeaked, voice cracking slightly. Aang grinned wide, stepping closer, but Fire-guy regained his footing and sent a burst of fire at him. 

Aang nearly didn't dodge in time, watching Fire-guy's arms and torso move in smooth, strong, practiced motions, and then beautiful fire follow the path of his arms.

"Hey, could you keep the fire pointed slightly away?" Aang requested politely, grin ever so slightly forced. "Not that wasn't sexy as-" Another burst of fire stopped inches from his face. 

Aang blocked streaks of fire deftly and skillfully. Hopefully, this would impress Fire-guy, like some kind of courting ritual, and then Aang could show him- well, no, Fire-guy would have to show him some places to have a good time 100 years in the future. 

But then a fire blast was aimed at the village kids behind him, and Aang pushed it upward with surprising force. His jaw set, and he couldn't help but feel disappointed. 

"If I go with you, will you promise to leave everyone alone?" Aang asked. He didn't exactly want to be captured, he hoped for sweeping him off his feet and leaving the army forever, but the village's safety came first.

Fire-guy stepped back, arms falling to his sides before crossing over his chest, and Aang's beautiful soon-to-be boyfriend (fingers crossed!) nodded silently. He was so distinguished and honorable. Probably not trustworthy, but who needed trust when you were as gorgeous as him!

Guards came up from behind him and clamped their hands on his shoulders. Aang gathered his confidence as he was marched forward into the ship. 

He heard Katara shout, "Aang, don't do this!" He looked back at the Water Tribe siblings, forcing an encouraging smile. 

"I'll be fine! Just ough-" his words hitched as a soldier shoved him forward. He'd have to have a talk with the guy once Fire-guy had fallen for him and everything had been cleared up. 

"Take care of Appa for me! Remember to-" his voice is cut off as the ship's door closes, and Aang feels like he's been swallowed by a monster.

He squares his shoulders and looks ahead to Fire-guy's proud stride. He's about to crack a joke when Fire-guy shouts, "Set a course for the Fire Nation!" As attractive as his confident command is, Aang still feels dread pool in his stomach, and he barely swallows through the lump in his throat.

@my-throwaway-tbh

[mycomfortblanket]

"I really dislike you," // "Oh, so you don't hate me anymore?" Jetkka @krastbannert

It's hard trusting Jet again after everything that they have been through, but the determination on his face as he stares down at a map is making Sokka pause. He seems more adrenalized about finding Appa than the rest of them have felt for a few weeks now. The renewed energy is kind of refreshing. 

"Are you sure you know where to look?" Sokka glances down at the map and back up at Jet's face skeptically. His eyes travel along his jawline and take in the windswept look of his hair. Since the Freedom Fighters found them, Jet has been without the piece of hay in his mouth and he honestly looks better without it. It doesn't pull the gaze away from the way his lips are constantly on the ready to turn up into a smirk nor does it distract from the hungry, predatory gleam that seems to only be in his eyes when he looks at Sokka. 

"I don't know exactly what it is, but trust me, I'll know when I see it," Jet says determinedly, not looking toward him.

"Yeah, trust you. That's something we won't have a problem doing," Sokka hears Katara mutter from across the room and knows that Jet must have also heard it but is seeming to ignore the comment. 

Aang walks up on the other side of Jet's shoulder and looks down at the map as well, confusion furrowing his eyebrows as he looks at the crisscross of the city streets. His eyes drift back up and again, he follows the cut of his jaw and the hunch of his shoulders as he studies the map. Suddenly, Jet's hand shoots down onto the table to point at something causing him to jerk out of his staring situation. He's pointing at a particular street that dead ends at a lake. "Here, Lake Laogai."

"Lake Laogai, yeah, that doesn't sound fake," Katara says sarcastically under her breath but she walks over to look at the map as well. 

"Didn't we go there once? There wasn't anything but a partially dried-up lake and some dead shrubs," Toph calls from the other room. They can hear her digging through the extensively stocked cabinets for some food. Something is continuously crashing to the floor as she continues to search for something particular. 

"It's under the lake," Jet murmurs. 

The crashing in the kitchen stops and a few seconds later, Toph emerges from the kitchen, "I'm sorry, I was in the other room in pursuit of something, I think I misheard. Did he say 'under the lake'?" She asks, disbelief lacing her words. 

~~~

As Toph opens up the tunnel that will take them down to the interconnecting channels of the underground compound, Sokka whistles in appreciation. Already his brain is whirling with the physics that had to go into building something underneath a lake. How strong the stones had to be to ensure that the water above the compound wouldn't collapse the structure. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Jet shoot him a smirk, "Told you it was here."

Sokka's appreciation quickly dissipates and is replaced with an annoyed glare that he sends toward Jet, "I really dislike you," he grumbles. 

Jet's smirk deepens and Sokka can feel himself flush from his face down to his chest, "Oh, you don't hate me anymore?"

"Let's just get through this and we can discuss how I actually feel about you," Sokka says, swallowing a little. He looks back over to where everyone is starting to climb down the ladder and into the tunnel when he sees Toph giving him a 'are you serious' look. Shrugging and adverting his gaze, he makes his way over to the ladder. 

Send me a prompt!

Check out my Archiveofourown.com to see the rest of my works!

[anonimusunnoaniswriting]

𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝑴𝒚 𝑳𝒂𝒅𝒚 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝟏

(𝑺𝒆𝒃𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒂𝒏 𝑴𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒔 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)

⚠️MDNI. 18+ ADULTS ONLY⚠️

🎀Age in bio or blocked🎀

Rating: Mature

Category: F/M

Fandom: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler

Relationship: Sebastian Michaelis/CielsCousin!Reader

Characters: Sebastian Michaelis; Reader

Summary: You visit your dear cousins manor in the countryside to get a well deserved break from the humdrum exhaustion of the city after an illness. What you do not expect from your quaint retreat is the start of an exhilarating illicit affair with the butler. But taboos mean nothing when lust love transcends human norm.

Additional Tags: Fluff and Smut; Sex; Vaginal Sex; Eventual Smut; Neck Kissing; Kissing; Gentle Kissing; Surprise Kissing; Making Out; Implied Sexual Content; Phantomhive manor; Reader-Insert; Victorian

A/N: not beta read. We die like men.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 1: 𝔗𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔅𝔲𝔱𝔩𝔢𝔯; ℑ𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔐𝔬𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤

“My lady,” you hear a soft voice calling you, “My lady, you must wake up, it is morning.” You open your eyes. The sheets around you are soft, freshly laundered. Your head sinks into the large white pillow, and you take a deep breath that turns into a yawn and turn over to go back to a more comfortable position. But the voice rings out again. “Now, that won’t do at all...” You twist your neck toward the direction of the voice. The sound in meats your ears like the gentle beat of a raven’s wing. Shielding your eyes because of the bright sunlight streaming in through the windows, you squinted to see a dark black figure stood before the opened curtains around your bed.

Sebastian Michaelis; the imposing shadowy butler of your cousin, Ciel Phantomhive who’s estate you were staying at while you visited the countryside after your illness. This man’s efficiency left you in awe. Managing an entire household with three other servants, an old butler, and a young master who was still very much a child. His roles extended far beyond that of an ordinary butler, to that of baker, chef, driver and even a pseudo parent. Additionally, with his smooth, silky, jet-black hair and contrasting pale skin he looked rather like a vampire – one from the cheap romance novellas you would pick up from the bookstore to keep yourself entertained. You definitely wouldn’t mind him sinking his teeth into your neck. You had been inappropriately lusting after the man ever since he greeted you into the Phantomhive manor. He was gentle and helpful, and you had found yourself yearning for the feel of his hands upon your skin. Sebastian seemed to sense your longing and took it upon himself to torment you with his sly touches at every opportune moment. He took your hand to help you down stairs, tied your shoelace if he thought it wasn’t done up well enough kneeling in front of you, he even lifted you and took you to bed one night when you were feeling especially tired from the day’s activities. You had been mortified to have been treated in such a manner but when he had leaned down and kissed your ear whispering a soft goodnight you exploded on the inside. Ever since then, you had been thinking the lewdest thoughts about the man- who would often catch you staring at his back and would wink at you and laugh when you turned red. And often your fingers would slip between your thighs, to rub over your mound below in an attempt to quell the aching need.

“Your maid seems to have caught a slight cold my lady.” Sebastian speaks drawing you back to the present. He smiles. “I hope you don’t mind me standing in for her this morning. I wouldn’t want you to exert yourself so soon after having recovered from one illness.” His eyes crinkle and he tilts his head while his smile grows wider.

For a moment, you stare at him and then understand the implications of his words. Still not fully awake you muster up the energy to ask, “But, who is to help me with my dressing?”

“I’m pretty sure you will find me capable enough, my lady.” He says, still smiling. You sit up quickly. Heart pounding in your chest.

“Sebastian!” you expel in admonishment “Surely that would not be proper!”

Sebastian prowls over to the the edge of the bed and leaning down, says, “Would it be as improper as this my lady?” He plants those smooth pale lips onto yours. They burn hot against your cool pink ones. You feel his hand caressing your cheek. Your heart beats hard in your chest and you sit rigidly unable to process what is happening around you. Is Sebastian really kissing you? Are his lips truly on yours? 

But before you can fully digest what happened, he moves away. “Are you awake now my lady?” he asks. You touch your lips feeling incomplete without his warmth and nod. “Good.” He says. “I want you to be awake for this.” He smoothly takes off his black coat and lays it down on a chair, then his vest, then as he unbuttons his shirt he climbs onto the bed. “Impropriety has been a recurring thought in your mind, has it not my lady?” he says to you. He kneels down in front of you. You feel your heart beat – loud enough for the whole mansion to hear.

“Wh– whatever do you mean, Sebastian?” You feign ignorance, trying to ignore the loud pounding of your heart.

“Don’t be coy my lady.” He smirks, his body almost enveloping you on the bed and playing with the string on the neck of your nightgown. He pulls it – untying the bow that your maid had made the night before. So smooth. His movements flow like a stream of water. Almost inhuman. You look into his eyes knowing that however improper it may be, you wanted the man. You wanted him in the basest way that a human may want a human. He cups your cheek in his hand and you can’t help yourself, you move forward to feel his burning lips against your own once again. He runs his fingers through your soft hair and wraps his arm around your torso pulling you closer. You pull off his already unbuttoned shirt. The heat of his body penetrating your thin nightgown. He presses his body against yours, kissing you, a hunger in his movements like no other you knew. His fingers reach your breast and he kneads it roughly. His tongue seeks entrance at your mouth. You open up readily, moaning softly at his touch. He tastes spicy yet at the same time sweet; it reminds you of chocolate a rare taste for such a rare man. Wanton moans drip from your throat and you just want more and more. Your head feels heavy—intoxicated. 

You close your eyes and pull him closer. He’s lean, yet you can feel hard muscle under the skin. Sebastian holds the bottom of your nightgown and looks at you with heavy lidded eyes.  “Are you sure about this my lady?” For a moment you think you see them flash a dangerous red but shake it off seeing them their regular brown.

You close your eyes and nod, biting your lower lip. It is what you want. Damn all the restrictions of society. Damn it all. It was your body and here was a man who made it writhe and respond on its own accord – without your control. You wanted him to feel you, touch you, make love to you. And you knew, he would appreciate you to the fullest – you would bloom like a flower beneath his touch.

A/N: This was originally posted on AO3 back in 2017. Since then much time has passed and i wasn't feeling the motivation to continue this series, but now with this resurgence of Kuro I would like to take this series up again. I am posting it here now, with changes made and small edits. Just to make it a better read while still keeping my original story intact. I hope you've enjoyed. As always, Likes and Reblogs are much appreciated and Comments will earn you kisses.

Masterlist

[animereaderinsertwriter]

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Tags/Warnings: bakugou x fem!reader, mdni, smut, group sex, almost crack treated seriously? whatever it's goofy and funny and lewd and doesn't take anything seriously at all so there's that, no beta we die like men

Final Word Count: 3k

Plot summary: Dynamight's agency has a reputation that they earn only once a year- and this year, you're invited!

Excerpt:

They called it the Love Shack.

You’d heard Mina talk about it forever and ever— this magical, midsummer day of sex and scandal— but never with any names, and never in any kind of detail. It was like a lewd fairy tale that your best friend told you at sleepovers to pass the time. It was a fun, juicy little piece of gossip, a part of Mina that you got to keep all to yourself. 

Until, one day, she asked you if you’d want to come with her.

(No pun intended).

There were… rumors about pro-hero Dynamight’s agency.

The ominous, omnipotent they said that there were wild parties at Mina Ashido’s place on every second Friday of the week— nothing illegal, sure, but plenty immoral, with everyone drunk and half-dressed and writhing—

Ahem. Right.

Other theys said that Red Riot was having an affair on his wife with his best friend, Dynamight; still others claimed the same of Pinky and Cellophane when Ejirou and Mina’s baby came out with a shock of black hair (nevermind the numerous brands of red hair dye that Red Riot publicly reviewed when he used them to cover up his own naturally jet-black hair). If a body looked hard enough, they might even find tabloid articles about Chargebolt’s drinking problem, Hitoshi Shinsou’s secret life as a rentboy, and Earphone Jack’s moonlight job as a dominatrix. No matter how you sliced it, there was one thing that all the theys agreed on:

As far as the public was concerned, Ground Zero was one giant den of depravity.

Why the theys thought this, it is generally unclear— though it was nonetheless true, if only for one day out of the year. For three hundred and sixty-four days out of the year, the members of Ground Zero behaved impeccably, navigating the world of pro-hero fame with dignity, grace, and humility; as far as anyone could prove, they were all perfectly normal. On the one day of the year that they were not well-behaved, well, no one else was around to see it. They traveled long and far to ensure that fact.

At least, that was the way it was supposed to be. Why the damn fools wanted to change that, Bakugou had no idea.

“It’s because you never participate,” Mina told him one evening, her hand gliding through her husband’s soft hair. “We feel like you’re left out.”

“I do participate,” he huffed, his infernal cheeks burning at just the thought. “Just— by myself.”

That is to say, he liked to watch. The idea of being touched by someone other than himself— by his friends— was entirely too much. There was a certain power in touch of that kind. Bakugou wasn’t interested in giving that up, not even to the men and women he trusted with his life.

“That’s exactly it,” she told him, and Enjirou groaned as she scratched his scalp. “It’s not that any of us mind, but you look— you always look pained. And lonely. Would it be so bad to find somebody you could play with while we’re all… indisposed?”

Bakugou tried not to think of those times. If he did, he’d pop a stiffy right here in the middle of the Kirishima family living room. 

“I’m fine like it always is— I don’t see why anything has to change, Mina. Really, just leave it.”

Mina frowned. Perfectly in sync with his wife, Ejirou shifted to look up at Bakugou with dark, pleading eyes.

“C’mon, man,” he said, that reflective gaze piercing Bakugou’s very heart. “Would you be okay with us just looking for someone for you? It won’t need to go any farther than that if you don’t want it to.”

It was a stupid idea. It was monumentally idiodic to even consider saying yes— but Bakugou never could deny his best friend anything.

“It’s three weeks until June,” he said, relenting. “You have until then.”

Mina beamed, and Ejirou gave him a soft smile that made Bakugou feel a little sick and squishy inside.

“Thanks, bro,” Ejirou told him, patting his thigh with a large, warm hand. “You won’t be disappointed.”

Bakugou wasn’t sure about all that. He was beginning to think he might be in some trouble.

***

They called it the Love Shack.

You’d heard Mina talk about it forever and ever— this magical, midsummer day of sex and scandal— but never with any names, and never in any kind of detail. It was like a lewd fairy tale that your best friend told you at sleepovers to pass the time. It was a fun, juicy little piece of gossip, a part of Mina that you got to keep all to yourself. 

Until, one day, she asked you if you’d want to come with her.

(No pun intended).

“And do what?” you laughed. “I’d like to be a fly on the wall, sure, but my tastes run a little more monogamous than that.”

“Well,” said Mina, leaning in conspiratorially as though the both of you weren’t cuddling on her bed while her husband rubbed her feet, “We have a friend who also likes to watch, if you know what I mean. He just— needs something a little… less than the group stuff. He sits in the corner by himself and fucks his hand until he’s nearly raw with it, but keeps on going because he’s just so…”

Mina trailed off, her eyes glazing over as she remembered some unspoken memory. After a moment, she shook her head and snapped out of it.

“He sounds kinda like a loser,” you admitted, cracking a grin. 

Mina laughed, and Ejirou chuckled right along with her.

“If only he could hear you now,” Ejirou laughed. “He’d either die of shame or implode the building.”

You frowned. 

“You’re not building a convincing case for him, Kirishima-kun.”

Mina rolled her eyes.

“Look, you said you’re in a dry spell?” she asked, and you nodded. “This guy will pop you like a fucking glowstick as many times as you want. He’s freaky good at sex.”

“And how would you know?” you demanded, shoving her lightly. “Apparently he won’t come within three feet of you!”

Things got awfully quiet, and Ejirou Kirishima’s face turned as red as his hair.

“No,” you laughed, but when no one denied it, your jaw went slack. “No!”

“Yes,” Mina replied, poorly stifling a laugh.

Ejirou hid his face in his hands.

“Guys, please,” he begged, but there was no way you were letting him go that easily.

“Oh no no, you’re not getting out of this,” you laughed. “Who is this mystery guy, and how do you know what he’s like in bed?”

“We went to U.A. together,” said Mina, patting her poor husband’s hand. “They had a whirlwind romance senior year, fucked like rabbits the whole time until he finally broke it off because they really, really were better off as friends. Otherwise, it got… obsessive. On both sides.”

You were burning with curiosity.

“Who? Who was it, Mina-chan?”

“You gotta give your answer first,” said Ejirou, propping up on his elbow. “Will you or won’t you?”

Oh, who were you kidding? You were fucking horny all the time, and besides, the suspense was killing you!

“Of course I’ll go—now tell me who it is!”

Mina smirked.

“Katsuki Bakugou.”

You nearly fell off the bed.

“Why the fuck didn’t you lead with that, Mina?” 

Your heart was racing. That evil, wicked, acid-slinging she-witch knew you’d had the biggest crush on him forever! Dynamight was the hottest pro-hero working, damn it— you'd have agreed immediately if she'd told you! 

“Because you needed to know he’s a loser!” she insisted. “Because he is a loser! A big one, that needs you to keep him from killing himself via orgasm!”

“Mina!”

“What? It’s the truth!”

“Mina!”

And that was how you ended up like this.

The room was cozy, complete with soft vintage furniture and colorful afghans. Somehow, the entire party had managed to fit comfortably into the living room of the quaint, countryside cabin, and you watched on in awe and wonder as everyone kissed and touched and let their instincts lead them as they went. 

"Can I touch you, Bakugou-san?" you asked, entranced. 

Bakugou, who was currently the color of a freshly-picked cherry, wouldn't even look at you. You tried not to take it personally when he replied in the negative. 

All around you, Bakugou's friends were in various states of undress. Hitoshi Shinsou was kissing Mina with a hand up her shirt as Denki Kaminari rubbed his long, bobbing cock against Hitoshi's boxer-clad ass. Ejirou's eyes were closed as Sero Hanta helped him out of his shirt, and Kyoka Jirou was fiddling with the buttons on Sero's ridiculously tight pants. They were all ridiculously, unfairly beautiful— and, unlike Bakugou, they were all sneaking nosy looks at you, curious and perhaps a bit hungry. 

In hindsight, it would have been a better idea for you and Bakugou to start alone together in a separate room. That would have allowed the two of you to get to know each other more intimately in a private setting, and surely it would have made him more comfortable, wouldn't it? Well, maybe that would have made it worse. You certainly couldn't imagine trying to take your clothes off in front of him if he was just as unresponsive then as he was now. 

Now, though, there were other folks watching— and you didn't see a reason to deprive them of a show. 

Slowly, you removed the silky dress separating your itchy, awful lingerie from the open air. Grinning at Mina, who was currently in the process of bending over a couch cushion, you unhooked the clasp of your black lacy bra, baring your breasts to the chill of the room. 

"Mira," Sero murmured to Jirou, his eyes fixed on newly-revealed flesh. "Isn't she beautiful?"

Jirou grinned, her eyes shadowed with a thin veil of appreciation. 

"She is. If you don't want her, Katsuki, we'll take her— no harm, no foul."

Your cheeks glowed at the compliment, heart racing at the thought. 

"Back off," Bakugou snapped. "You fuckers picked her out for me, didn't you?"

Still, he made no move to touch you— but his eyes were now yours, for better or for worse. 

"That's right," you agree, voice soothing and even as you smile at him. "I'm afraid I'm reserved for the day."

And just like that, Bakugou turned away, as though ashamed. 

This would not do. 

Projecting confidence you did not feel, you moved from your spot on the loveseat and onto the floor in front of Bakugou, kneeling sweetly. Crimson eyes watched you, guarded, wary; you placed a hand on top of his, testing the waters, and he allowed you to take it. Gently, you placed the callused palm of it on your cheek. It was warm and a little sweaty against your flesh, and heavy where you held it. 

“You have big hands,” you noted, turning slightly to press a kiss to his wrist. “They’re very pretty, too.”

Bakugou grunted, but did not pull away. Allowed this far, you decided to push for more; you pulled away, then pressed kisses to the pads of his fingers, allowing him to become acclimated to your touch. When he still did not resist, you figured it was all or nothing— you wrapped your lips around a long, thick digit and sucked it into your mouth, simulating oral.

“Fuck,” he swore, and you knew you had him.

Slowly, you pulled off of his finger with a wet pop. The next thing you knew, his mouth was on yours, the smoky scent of his aftershave enveloping you. Big hands caged your face, holding you still; surprisingly soft lips nudged against your own, and the moment was so tender that you nearly lost yourself in it, forgetting momentarily the larger context of what they were there to do.

A rowdy wolf-whistle made sure that didn’t last, though. 

Distracted, you turned to grin at Kaminari— doubtless the guilty wolf-whistler— but sudden pain burned in the form of fingerprints on your jaw, turning your gaze back to meet Bakugou’s. 

“Eyes up here, sweetheart.”

You shivered. 

“Yes sir,” you replied, allowing yourself a small smile, and Bakugou grinned in return.

“That’s what I like to hear.”

What came next was more than you had expected. With pro-hero strength, Bakugou lifted you bodily from the floor and sat you on his lap, your knees on either side of his hips. His sweats were soft against your skin, but there was little time to process anything else before his mouth was on your tits, tongue dragging across a peaked nipple. Startled, you moaned, and a large, warm hand squeezed at your hip, pulling you down to feel the hardness growing in his pants. The length of him brushed against your sex as you started grinding, encouraging his erection; the stimulation was muted but perfect as he played with your tits, leaving his mark across bare flesh with lips and tongue and teeth. 

"So fucking pretty," he murmured against your flesh, his breath hot and his hands heavy. "I want to fuck you." 

"That is what we're here for," you teased, but all laughter left as the thong you were wearing ripped beneath his hands, falling uselessly from your hips. 

"Turn around. I want you to watch them with me while I get you off."

You turned your head over your shoulder, following Bakugou's gaze. Mina was spread-eagle on the couch, watching you from upside-down as Shinsou ate her out. Somewhat strangely, his eyes were on you as well. This became something of a trend; you and Bakugou, it seemed, had the attention of the entire room. 

"Yeah," you agreed, dismounting his legs in order to turn around. "Yeah, I like that."

When you returned to your seat, facing the rest of the room, Bakugou's thighs were bare. The soft down of his hair tickled the backs of your thighs, which might have made you laugh if something warm and large hadn't brushed your entrance, forcing you to catch your breath. A hand moved to your hip, squeezing the fat of it, and then Bakugou was pushing inside you, filling you with length and girth that you wouldn't previously have credited him with. You felt… fuller than you had expected to be, and the sensation left you moaning at the penetration. 

"Mm, fuck yeah," he growled, his lips close to your neck, raising the small hairs there. "Moan for me, baby."

There was a noise behind you, and then damp fingers snuck around your waist and then between your legs, searching for your pleasure. His thick middle finger circled your clit, and almost involuntary, your hips bucked, shifting the long, hard cock inside you at a different angle. You moved again, chasing that feeling, and soon you were riding Bakugou in earnest, fucking yourself on his cock. 

In front of you, Ejirou was slowly stretching Sero"s ass, murmuring praise with a smile like sunshine. Sero, whose cock was in Jirou's mouth, made eye contact with you and winked, speaking fragments of Spanish that you couldn't decipher. Across the way, Mina was being spit roasted by Shinsou and Kaminari, who were sucking on each other's tongues as they took their pleasure from her. The whole scene was graphic and lewd and terrible and wonderful, and you couldn't think of anything that was quite so terrific when Bakugou managed to exceed your expectations, prying his lips away from your neck long enough to say,

"Fuck yeah, princess, you're so fucking hot. Lean back, lean back— I'm gonna hold you up and fuck you hard."

Before you could protest, he manhandled you backwards, crushing you against his still-clothed chest. He made good on his promise of fucking you hard— his hips rutted up into yours with strength and purpose, filling you up and stretching you out, forcing himself further inside with every thrust. His finger on your clit was relentless; it was all you could do just to breathe and tremble and shake and take all he had to give. 

"You close?" he grunted, never slowing. 

"Yeah," you confessed, almost embarrassed by it. "Yeah, m'really close."

"Good." Relief was evident in his voice. "Me too."

In the space of a few strokes more, you found your peak. With Bakugou groaning in your ear, you came hard and fast, your orgasm crashing over your head with the force of a falling oak. Bakugou, not far behind, actually lifted you up and off of his cock before he came, spilling hot seed over both your thighs. Really, it was ridiculous how much he came; looking at the volume he spilled, you almost wanted to feel it inside of you. 

In the afterglow, Bakugou was still a beast. Seemingly unbothered by the strength he'd had to exert in the last few minutes, he shifted you bodily until your back was against the loveseat and he was above you, straddling your thighs and kissing your mouth with the hunger of a starving panther. His cock, long and heavy even soft, twitched as you moved your hands up his thighs and to the curve where his hips met his back.

"I want to suck you off," you told him, filterless as you thought of his big, heavy-looking balls in your mouth. "Wanna feel you get hard in my mouth."

"In a minute," he said, taking his shirt off, expression tender  "I want to enjoy you for a little while more."

This part— the ravenous hunger followed by strange softness— found you woefully unprepared. Your heart pounded as his hands grew gentle, touching you like a lover would; how could you ever have prepared for such sweet exploration? Even his kisses had lost their bite, and were now soothing and something more than they'd been before. 

All around you, the others were reaching their own climaxes. Moans echoed throughout the cabin, but in the here and now, all of that seemed distant, fading. All of a sudden, you were intensely glad that Mina had asked you to come here, to experience this with them— but you were especially glad that it was just you and Bakugou, separate from the rest of them as he gave you his kindness and attention as well as his passion.

Really, you thought as Bakugou lowered his head between your legs, you wouldn't have it any other way. 

[what-the-ship]

Healing Touch

Here is my contribution to the rare pair that gnaws at my brainstem.

Obligatory sickfic. Tigerghost. TW: vomiting No beta, we die like Danny

Superheroes don’t get sick. Or so they like to tell themselves. Especially one Manuel Pablo Gutierrez O'Brian Equihua Rivera! 

It wouldn’t be so bad if he were at his place in Miracle City. There he could be weak around his family. At Headquarters, that was a different story. There wasn’t a room dedicated to personal use except for Jimmy. It was his dimension after all. Timmy had been pressuring the genius into expanding to allow for at least one room to be used for sleeping. The idea was shot down every time. His brillant idea was taken from some popular space travel series where the lower decks slept in the hallway. Sure they got their own shelf but it was still a hallway at the end of the day. When Manny first saw it he was reminded of catacombs.  

 So when Manny woke up one random Thursday with a pounding headache and a sore throat all he could do was groan. 

“Manny?” Inquired the voice of Timmy somewhere beyond his sight. When Manny went to answer he gave a dry, raspy cough. The cough hurt his stomach so bad he ended up throwing up on the floor. Since there was nothing in his stomach it somehow made it hurt even more. Timmy was now shouting and alarms were going off. Manny felt like crying as the sound drilled into his already-pounding head. 

When he awoke there was something cool pressed against his forehead. It felt amazing. Allowing his more cat-like instincts to take over he nuzzled into the coolness. To his delight, a second soft coolness was placed on his neck. Curiosity winning he opened his eyes to investigate the source of delight. To his shock, he saw a pair of blue eyes staring down at him. Jet black and snow white hair framed the most delightful face. 

“Ángel,” Manny whispered before closing eyes to get some more sleep. The next time he awoke his head was feeling much better. He looked around wondering where he was. It wasn’t his room in his dimension and it certainly wasn’t his shelf in the hallway. 

“Oh you are awake,” Jimmy had entered the room without Manny noticing. He must still be out of it. He was dressed in a hazmat suit and carrying a clipboard. Trotting next to him was his robotic dog Goddard. 

“Therometer.” Commanded the teen genius holding his hand out for Goddard to produce said item in his upturned hand. He then swiped the device across Manny’s forehead. 

“Thirty-seven point four degrees centigrade.” Announced Jimmy as he made a note of it. “Not perfect but acceptable. If you are up for it, I can have some soup and crackers brought down.”

“Soup sounds good.” He really could go for his mom's sopa azteca right now. Manny was left alone again to look around the room. It looked like a barracks complete with metal bunk beds. He was currently on the bottom bunk at the moment. Hoping he could convince the person above him to switch places. He was always more of an up cat.  

“Soups on!” Spongebob sang out as he danced into the room. He then sat down the trey on Manny’s lap. Manny gave a smile and a thanks as he looked over the meal. He frowned a little. It looked a little like caldo de pollo but not. Chicken bits and carrots checked out. The stringy noodles confused him slightly. There wasn’t much of a smell and the broth was far too clear. Not wanting to seem ungrateful he ate a spoonful. 

Bland. He gave a smile and thanked the chef. Spongebob smiled before excusing himself. The second the door shut Manny set the whole tray on the floor in disgust. He could feign sickness for not finishing. Sipping the lukewarm water he debated on trying to get up or get some more sleep. Splitting the difference he located his phone to scroll lazily for a while. The door opened again and Manny instantly geared up his too-sick-to-eat act. To his surprise it was Danny. He was carrying a paper bag in both hands. His soft smile morphed into confusion at the sight of the tray on the floor. 

“Not up for eating?” Danny frowned at the practically untouched now cold soup. Danny set down the bag to use the spoon to poke at the flimsy noodles. “Can’t say I blame you. Maybe you’re up for something different.” 

Danny pulled out a styrofoam bowl with a plastic lid from the bag. He peeled off the lid releasing the smoky scent of pozole. Manny almost spilled the treasure in his excitement. He took a sip straight from the container as Danny fished out a spoon from the paper bag. 

“Gracias guapo.” 

“You’re welcome.”

Timmy entered a second later with a bulging backpack.

 “Congratulations on getting us the Nap Room! I call top bunk.” Declared Timmy throwing his bag on one of the other metal bunk beds. Timothy Turner, ever the opportunist. Like the pre-evolution of a lawyer.  

“Just wish you didn’t have to puke on the floor to get it.” Danny tacked on.

“Anything for my amigos.” Manny flashed a winning smile getting one back from the ghostly hero. “Speaking of hooking amigos up, where can I get some of those ice packs?” 

“Ice packs?” Timmy paused in turning his bed into a nest. He was standing on the ladder as he spread out a small blanket. He had to twist his upper body to look back at the duo.

“Yeah. The ones from earlier. Oh, man. I would wear those things all night. They were so soft and perfect.” Manny stopped praising the ice packs as Danny’s face became redder and redder. 

“Oh no I got you sick. Here,” Manny panicked slightly holding out his half-eaten meal. Danny politely declined as he made an excuse to leave. 

“Oye I mean it. I could sleep with those things all night.” 

“Oh I bet you could,” Timmy smirked. “All. Night. Long.”

“Isn’t it about time you go bother Jimmy?” Danny was now in his defensive posture. 

“Not til two. Besides I am very interested in Manny’s story about how he could spend the night with-” Timmy’s speech was cut off by a carefully placed mini plasma shot right to his backside. It was just enough to cause the teen to give a yelp. 

“Worth it.” Groaned the brunette through clenched teeth.

Danny had already left the room before Manny got his answer. Making a mental reminder he polished off his soup trying to recall the details of his strange dream about the angel.

[libraryofantiquitea]

𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡.

pairing: jake "hangman" seresin x civilian female reader

summary: jake visits you at the gallery where you work after he's done training for the day. it becomes very apparent that you've both caught feelings.

warnings: explicit, minors do not interact! oh look, it's smut again! but this time there is [drumroll] some plot! unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex (female receiving), jake being turned on by his own callsign.

word count: 5.1k

author's notes: no beta, we die like goose. mainly because i didn't want to subject anyone to how long this part is!

i hadn't intended for this to become a series, but this is the third part in august slipped away.

previous: pt. i | tell me my name pt. ii | tokyo summer

likes / comments / reblogs are very much appreciated! thank you for reading! ♥

There was a small art gallery just outside of Miramar; if you wanted to wander around for hours you’d need to make your way into the city proper to go to the San Diego Museum of Art, but if you just wanted to browse some more local art and perhaps purchase a painting or piece of artwork, Evergreen Brush was there for all of your artsy needs.

And that was where you worked as a curator, helping select the pieces and artists that you featured, and turning on your charm to sell artwork to sailors and aviators who might not know the first thing about artwork but wanted a little piece of San Diego to bring home with them.

Jake had texted you early in the morning, he was training pretty much all day but would come and pick you up after you closed the gallery and take you out. For what, he didn’t say, but you didn’t really give a damn where you went, you just wanted to spend time with him.

You had just flipped the sign on the door over to CLOSED for the evening as the familiar sound of fighter jets passed overhead, and you idly wondered if Jake was in one of them.

Fidgeting with some of the everyday rings you wore on your fingers, you wandered further into the gallery to do your “end of day” tasks. It had been a few weeks since you’d met Jake at The Hard Deck, a few weeks since you’d begun this situationship with him. You had promised yourself a very long time ago that you’d never get involved with another military man, but then had realized that if you were going to live in Fightertown that you really didn’t have much of a choice if you wanted to date ever again.

Jake was the type you should’ve run away from, but you had been powerless then to say no to his invitation out for a drink. He was definitely the type you’d normally go out with once, bring back to your home for the night, and that would be that. But there was something incredibly disarming about him that you hadn’t anticipated, a wall that he knocked down everytime you were in his presence.

You got the feeling that wasn’t something that he did often, and wondered what made you so special.

That first night, Jake had told you that he didn’t know how long he would be around. He couldn’t tell you much about what he was doing, it was very hush hush, but you got the impression that the mission was perilous enough that he might not return. And even if he did, this wasn’t where he would be posted long term. Whenever he left that would be it.

You’d had relationships, flings, with expiration dates before, but this was different. With the unknown “best before” date looming over your head, you tried your hardest not to catch feelings. It was fucking impossible with the likes of Jake Seresin.

Sighing, setting some invoices down on the counter, you raised your head and looked across the room to a series of abstract paintings, hoping they would put your mind at ease, quell the noise that would just not shut up.

There was no future with Jake, so it was best to just have a good time while you had him.

Convincing yourself of that was easier said than done.

In the employee lounge, the owner kept all kinds of liquor. Wine, whiskey, beer, anything a customer making a big purchase, an artist making a big sale, or a stressed out curator might crave. You made your way back there and grabbed a bottle of whiskey and two glasses, knowing that it was Jake’s favourite. You didn’t know if he’d want to stick around, or what manner of plans he had for you both when he inevitably arrived, but there was no way you were going to have a drink and not offer him some.

-

You were just wrapping up recording sales for the day when there was a knock on the door. Glass of whiskey lifted halfway to your lips,  you looked over to see Jake at the front door, hands in his pockets, smiling broadly when you made eye contact.

You giggled, feeling like a teenager being picked up for a school dance.

Somehow you managed to keep yourself from running to the door, though you moved as quickly as your feet and self respect could take you. From the other side of the door, Jake held your gaze as you unlocked it, before swinging it open and allowing him access.

“Hey darlin’,” he said brightly, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in close for a kiss.

“Hey,” you murmured, returning his kiss and draping your arms over his shoulder. “Gimmie a sec and I’ll lock the door.”

You mournfully pulled yourself from Jake’s embrace and moved to lock the door, while he stepped further into the gallery. “I never knew this place existed until you told me about it,” he said, looking around at some of the paintings.

“I don’t think it’s in the pamphlets they give you when you arrive at TOPGUN about sights to see while you’re here,” you teased, locking up and turning around. “I found a bottle of whiskey in the break room. Would you like some?”

“Baby girl,” Jake said, tilting his head slightly and raising his eyebrows as he turned to look at you. “C’mon.”

You grinned so brightly that your face hurt, and you walked over to the counter to pour a glass for Jake and another one for yourself. 

“Very different work environment from mine,” Jake teased, taking a glass and then clinking it against yours. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” you repeated, watching him for a moment before taking a sip from your glass.

You couldn’t stop watching him; the way his Adam's apple bobbed as the alcohol slid down his throat, the way his green eyes practically twinkled in the low light, the closeness of him when he truly did not have to be that close at all.

It had been a few days since you’d seen him, and all you could think about was the last time you had seen him. Your face felt warm, and whether it was from Jake’s presence or the liquor you would never truly know.

“I just need to finish some paperwork, and then I’m all yours for the night,” you said, shuffling some papers and clearing your throat. More for your own benefit than Jake’s. “Feel free to have a browse.”

Jake smiled at you, before slowly pacing over to the wall of paintings. “I think I will, darlin’.”

Swallowing hard, you forced yourself to look down to finish what you had been working on, even if your eyes wanted to follow Jake through the gallery, watch the way his hand clutched at the glass of whiskey, the broad span of his shoulders, his perfect ass.

You told yourself the sooner you got done with paperwork, the sooner your hands could busy themselves with something else.

It was just as you were finishing up that you heard Jake say, “Could you tell me more about this one?”

Smiling, you moved from behind the counter, grabbing your drink along the way and sauntering over to where Jake was standing. When you realized exactly which painting he was talking about, something in your stomach began to flutter.

It was one of yours.

“Well,” you began, as you stood next to Jake, “this is a contemporary figurative painting. The artist specializes in the genres of portraiture and landscape. But, with this painting she has found a way to … sort of combine the two.” You looked out the corner of your eye to observe Jake, to find that he was hanging on your every word, and seemed genuinely interested. “The landscape in question is the artist’s own body.”

“Hmm,” Jake hummed, before looking closely. “She’s laying down, right? The curves of her body look like rolling hills.”

“That was precisely her intent,” you continued, looking over at Jake. “She isn’t always her body’s biggest fan, and society as a whole still has a problem with bodies that don’t fit the typical beauty standard. So, she is subverting their judgemental gaze by focusing on just a small part of her body, at an angle that most people would not see her in.”

Jake inhaled sharply, as if processing, and you briefly wondered if you’d made yourself too vulnerable, put too much on the table. Of course you and Jake had enjoyed some deeper discussions since meeting, and you’d talked about your art with him, but this was different than all of that. This was opening up in a way that you didn’t with even people you’d known for quite a long time. He’d be right to be put off by it.

“I think it’s stunning,” Jake said quietly, before polishing off what remained of his whiskey and then letting his arm hang loosely at his side, holding the glass by the rim. “And I’ve seen this body from this angle. It’s one of the most gorgeous and magnetic things I’ve ever seen.”

“Jake,” you whispered, shaking your head slightly. You were alternately touched and thought that he was putting on quite the show.

“What?” he asked, turning his attention from the painting to look over at you, eyebrow raised quizzically.

“You don’t have to flatter me so much,” you said, reaching for the empty glass and offering him a smile. “You already have me.”

“Darlin’,” Jake began, his voice dropping into that low register that drove you wild, “I’m not … saying that to try and butter you up. This is gorgeous.” He gestured to the painting. “I don’t know much about art, but I think I know what I like.” He paused, simply looking into your eyes for a moment. “I want to buy it.”

“Jake,” you began, biting at your bottom lip and shaking your head slightly. “C’mon. You don’t really want to buy a painting of my back curving into my ass. There are so many better paintings here. If you want some art I’d be happy to -”

“I’m not playing at something,” Jake insisted, brow furrowing as you turned toward the breakroom. He reached out and grabbed your wrist. “Hey. I like you. We wouldn’t be doing … this, if I didn’t. I like your art. I want to buy some.”

You’d whirled around, facing him, and swallowed hard. God, he was going to make you talk about all of this, wasn’t he?

“I can make you some art. Some better art. You don’t want that one,” you insisted. “Besides, it costs far too much money.”

“So give me a discount then,” Jake said, smiling at you. You set the empty glasses down on a nearby shelf. “I don’t understand. Why don’t you want me to have this?”

“Do you really want a painting of a part of my naked body?” you asked incredulously, raising your eyebrows. “I have so much better work than that. Something that will actually look nice hanging in your home. Something that people won’t ask you questions about.”

“Yes, I want a painting of a part of your naked body,” Jake insisted, reaching for your hand. “I really like your naked body. I really like you. Besides it would be nice to have something -”

“Don’t.”

“- to remember you.”

Even though you had desperately wanted to have this conversation, even though your heart threatened to beat out of the space behind your rib cage every time you thought of him, the last thing that you wanted to talk about was the after. Aside from a couple of slip ups, you’d generally done pretty well about ignoring the fact that this was all going to end.

Somehow, Jake acknowledging it made the whole thing real, and worse, stating that he wanted to remember you felt like a dagger to your heart.

“We agreed not to talk about it,” you said simply, trying to turn away from him, but he was still holding on tightly to your wrist.

Jake pulled you toward him, against his chest, and held you close. “I know,” he said, a kindness in his voice as he relinquished his hold on your wrist to brush your hair away from his face. “I know we did. But, as we’ve established, I like you, want to remember you after I leave. What’s so wrong with that?”

“Because we agreed that when this was over, whenever that might be, that we wouldn’t,” you said sternly, trying desperately to act like your heart wasn’t cracking open like a ship against the rocks. But in a good way. You didn’t want to hold back what you felt, but you did it because of what you’d both agreed to. “And now you’re trying to change the rules. That’s not fair.”

Jake pursed his lips together. “You’re right, it’s not.” You puffed your chest out, having felt like you’d won a little victory. “But I never said I was fair.” He held you a little closer, and you could feel the heat radiating off of his body. “I like you. A lot. More than I was anticipating. I don’t want to act like you don’t mean anything to me. You do. I’m not going to forget you when this is over. How could I?”

“I don’t want to talk about the expiration date,” you murmured, a little breathless. Jake was leaning in closer to you, his nose bumping against yours. “We have right now. We’ll worry about later when we get there.”

It was easy enough to say. You had been worrying about later since yours and Jake’s first date, when he’d left your home and headed back to the base, while you had sat on the floor, his come dripping down your thighs.

You wouldn’t have changed what the two of you had for anything in the world. Even if it would inevitably be painful in a matter of weeks.

“Right now,” Jake murmured in agreement. God, he was so close. You tried to close the space between you and he pulled back a little, smirking at you with a flash of perfect, white teeth, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Fuck, you hated him in that moment. “I kind of want to bend you over something and fuck you.”

“Jake.”

“Dress hiked up over your hips,” he continued, his hands moving down along your sides before settling on your aforementioned hips.

“Jake,” you repeated, wrapping an arm around his neck and trying to haul him closer. He still wouldn’t kiss you, and you decided that you were done playing fair. With your free hand you reached down between Jake’s legs, and grabbed his stiffening cock through his pants.

“Fuck,” he growled, hips canting forward toward your touch.

“Hike my dress up over my hips then,” you breathed, squeezing him gently through his jeans, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear. “Raw me.”

He said nothing, and instead gave you that kiss that you had so been craving. It wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t gentle, and there was the very real possibility that your teeth knocking together would result in a trip to the dentist for one of you. But you didn’t care. It was so passionate, so incredibly raw, and you lived for the intensity that he put into every kiss that he bestowed upon your waiting and eager lips.

You found yourself crowded against a wall, between two contemporary impressionist paintings, and visions of your first time together flooded back in your mind. Not one to reminisce while in the process of being ravished, you turned your attention back to what was happening in the then and now, Jake’s teeth scraping along the column of your throat. You tangled a hand in his hair, loving the feeling of the soft tendrils wrapping around your fingers, where his hair was a little longer. 

During a moment of respite, where you both needed to come up for air, you held Jake’s gaze as you hiked your dress up slowly, hooking your thumbs into the waistband of your underwear and shoving them down your legs. Jake didn’t tear his eyes away from yours, but you could tell from the shift in his breathing that he wanted to. Your underwear off, you relinquished your hold on the hem of your dress and reached forward, palming Jake’s hardening cock through his jeans.

“Do you want me, love?” you rasped, and only regretted calling him love a little bit. It was a term of endearment that you used with many people, but it seemed like such a loaded word with him.

“Yes,” he gasped, still rapt as he looked into your eyes, nodding his head slowly as you began to undo his belt.

“Do you want to split my pussy open on your thick cock?” you purred, pulling the belt from its loops and tossing it onto the floor.

Jake leaned forward slightly, bracing one hand against the wall, the other against your throat. You gasped, tipping your head back slightly as he applied just the slightest bit of pressure. “Yes,” he growled, that southern drawl making your cunt pulse around nothing, his thumb smoothing over the delicate skin along the column of your throat.

Your hands trembling, you shoved the waistband of his shorts down just enough to free him. Your hand circled around his length, stroking him slowly, and you marvelled at how wet he was already, how eager he was. Whenever you were together you never doubted how much he wanted you. It was always quite apparent.

The angle was all wrong - he had several inches on you height-wise. Jake dipped his head down, claiming your mouth in one final brutal kiss, before he reluctantly pulled himself away. You whimpered, but didn’t have long to look at him questioningly, or look at him at all. He grabbed you roughly and turned you around, slamming your front against the wall. Your hands automatically went out to brace yourself, and you let out a satisfied groan.

“Not too rough?” he asked you.

“No,” you replied breathlessly. “Fuckin’ perfect …”

The only downside was that you couldn’t see him, and you loved looking at him, his face, watching as every emotion he felt, everything he thought passed over his features. At least with you. You looked back over your shoulder to find him stroking himself, and you let out a low moan, wriggling against the wall in anticipation. He must’ve felt your eyes on him, because he looked up and regarded you for a moment before reaching for the hem of your dress and pushing it up over your hips, just as he said that he wanted to.

“God, look at you,” Jake rumbled.

You let out a soft noise that died on your lips when he drew his hand back and cracked it hard against your exposed ass. “Oh!” you cried, forehead dropping against the wall. “Holy shit …”

“Okay?” he asked with some trepidation.

You appreciated him asking, but it took you a few moments to find the words. “Yes,” you finally replied. “I’ll - you can do whatever you want to me. I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

Those had apparently been the magic words, because you heard him groan, heard the slick sound of his hand moving over his cock before he smacked your ass hard again. He hit you with such force that you felt your entire body jostle from it, could feel the ache that lingered between your legs permeating through your entire core. You pushed away from the wall, pushed back against him, cock moving between your cheeks.

“Oh my god,” he murmured, hips jerking forward, his hands settling on your hips. “Baby girl -”

“Jake, please,” you whined, wriggling against him. “Don’t - don’t make me wait.”

That was apparently the last thing that he wanted to do. One of his hands relinquished its hold on you, reaching between them to grab at the base of his cock. He shifted it so that it was nestled between your thighs, letting out a shuddering breath as it dragged against your clit, your lips.

“Fuck me,” you gasped desperately, reaching behind yourself and curling an arm around his neck, drawing them closer. His mouth immediately sought out your throat, and he nudged the collar of your jean jacket to the side with his fingers. “Hangman, give me your cock.”

You’d never called him by his callsign before, and he let out the most pathetic, devastatingly sexy sound you’d ever heard. 

He didn’t make you wait any longer, pressing his fingers along his length and guiding it into your wet and waiting cunt. You both gasped, relieved, and seemingly melted against one another as he began to press inside. Jake’s hands sought your breasts, squeezing them gently through the fabric of your dress, your bra, a low moan echoing off the walls of the art gallery as he sunk deeper inside of you.

“Fuck. Fuck,” he moaned as you pressed back against him. “Baby girl … oh my god.”

You, in that moment, felt so incredibly powerful. You felt used, like a plaything for little more than his pleasure. But the way that he filled you, worshipped your body with every touch, every kiss, every shift of his hips let you know the truth - you were cherished, you were ultimately the one in control. You could bend him to your every whim, and he would go willingly. 

You whined and gasped as he filled you, and when his hips met your ass and he couldn’t move any deeper inside of you, you made a small, frustrated sound. You would’ve gladly taken more of him if there were more to take - and he certainly wasn’t lacking.

Swaying your hips, you tipped your head back against his shoulder, your own hands settling over his, encouraging him to grab your breasts harder. “Hangman,” you murmured breathlessly. “Fuck me. Split me open, love.”

“You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me,” he moaned, peppering your face and throat with desperate, messy kisses.

“Why would I do that?” you asked with a breathless smile, turning your head slightly so that you could get one of those kisses on your lips. 

After taking a moment to get accustomed to the feeling of being inside you, of finding the position that made you cry out the most, Jake began to move. Slowly at first, but then in earnest, his hands coming to settle on your hips once more. He guided you along him as he moved, his hips snapping forward and meeting your ass again and again, the deliciously improper smacking sound filling the gallery.

Christ, how you wanted to see him.

“Jake,” you whimpered as he fucked you with abandon. “Love, I can’t - let me - I want to see you.”

He seemed only too happy to oblige, and though he reluctantly pulled out of you (you both let out mournful sounds), he quickly rectified it by manhandling you until you were facing him. Your eyes wide and startled, you barely had a moment to react, to adjust, before he was swooping in and kissing you, pushing you back against the wall. You lifted a leg, hooking it over his hip, and he groaned something against your mouth about you being so flexible, and you smiled. You ground your hips against him, and he bucked against you, growling as his tongue delved into your mouth.

“Put it - put it back in,” you whimpered, arching against him, draping your arms over his shoulders. The angle was still all wrong, and for the first time in a very long while you hated how short you were compared to him. “Jake,” you whined, frustrated, head thumping back against the wall.

You had no idea what had gotten into you that night, but you felt all manner of things all at once. You could scarcely remember a time when you had wanted anyone but Jake, despite the fact that he’d only come into your life a few weeks previous. Your heart ached from how strongly that you felt for him, and from the inevitable end of your relationship. You were so overjoyed, while simultaneously being absolutely gutted.

“Sweetheart,” Jake murmured, pressing his mouth along the curve of your jaw. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

One of his hands moved under the thigh of the leg you had up over his hip, while the other traced idle patterns on your other leg. You whimpered quietly, looking into his green eyes as he searched your face for a moment. You didn’t know what he was looking for, but whatever it was you wanted to give it to him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, as if he’d never said it to you before. He had, that night of your first date, but your heart felt full from hearing it again.

“So are you,” you responded in kind, and Jake smiled and bit at his lip.

“Put your arms around my neck,” he murmured. “A little tighter than you already are.” You did as instructed, looking at him quizzically. “Hold on.”

You didn’t have the time to ask him what he was doing. He hooked his arm under the back of your knee against his hip, and then crouched down, doing the same with the other leg, hoisting you up off the floor. You let out a startled noise and held onto him tighter, your hand fisted the collar of his shirt in your hand.

“Jake,” you gasped.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, pressing his face against your throat for a moment.

Jake pushed you back up against the wall, using that as leverage to hoist you a little higher. You untangled one of your arms from being wrapped around him and reached down between the two of you, grabbing his cock and guiding the tip inside of yourself. Gravity took care of the rest.

“Oh, fuck,” you whined, eyebrows furrowing as you looked down to watch Jake’s cock slipping inside. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

At that point, Jake seemed to be beyond even four letter, single syllable words, and simply pressed his mouth against your throat, alternating between breathing harshly and moaning, delicious sounds coming from that you hadn’t been aware he was capable of making.

You wriggled, attempting to move yourself up and down along Jake’s cock, using his shoulders as leverage. You were able to move slightly, but mostly it was left up to gravity, and Jake’s arms lifting you. He was so strong, but you were sure that he couldn’t keep that up for long. Thankfully, the angle was fucking perfect and he wouldn’t have to.

“Jake,” you gasped, tangling one hand in his hair and tugging. He moved shallowly, the base of his shaft rubbing against your clit. You wouldn’t last. “Jake!”

He gasped your name in turn, tongue darting out to taste your skin, covered in a fine sheen of sweat. “I’m - I’m coming. Come with me. Sweetheart, please -”

You didn’t need to be asked twice, his pleas and the way he stretched you open, hit all of the sweetest spots inside you ensuring that you came tumbling along with him. Jake was inelegant as he came - grunting and gasping and twitching against you, and it only spurred your own orgasm on further, your entire body trembling with the force of it. It rocked you to your core so hard that when you closed your eyes for a moment you saw the brightest of stars.

Gingerly, you attempted to lower your legs, but your feet still didn’t touch the floor. You could feel his entire body quaking against you, and he crouched slightly to pull his cock out of you, ease you onto the floor, still breathing hard, still making soft sounds against your skin. He seemed reluctant to pull away from the warmth of your throat.

“Fuck,” you gasped, tipping your head back against the wall, your fingers gently scratching at his scalp. “Jake …”

You had said little else for several minutes. They seemed to be the best two words, at least for the moment. They were good words. They were undoubtedly your favourites.

Jake leaned his forehead against yours, and you traded ragged breaths as you attempted to regain any semblance of composure. You didn’t know how the rest of the evening was likely to shake out, but you hoped that it didn’t include being upright for any length of time, as you felt you were barely capable then of standing without assistance.

He pulled away from you, and you were about to tighten your grip on his hair, not wanting him to go anywhere, but he began to slowly sink to his knees. There was a question that died on your lips as he lifted the hem of your dress, which you took a hold of in your hands and hiked up over your thighs as you watched him. Hands settling on your thighs, Jake leaned in and licked the sensitive bundle of nerves at your center. You cried out, relinquishing your hold on your dress with at least one hand, which you tangled into his soft, mused hair once more.

Without a word, he tilted his head to the side and began to lick into you and it was through a haze that you realized that he was licking his own come out of you. 

You may have come again from the sheer knowledge of that alone.

“Oh,” you gasped, watching him intently. “Oh god. Fuckin’ ... Jake.”

He moaned against you like it was the sweetest thing that he’d ever tasted, his own release mixed with yours. And you didn't doubt for a moment that he thought just that. Jake ate your pussy like it was a goddamn honour.

“You … holy fuck,” you purred, fingers carding gently through his hair.

You spread your legs a little wider, Jake’s tongue probing your cunt, as if he didn’t want to lose a single drop. He was positively filthy, and looked so incredibly debauched on his knees in front of you, neck craned, brow furrowed in concentration. He opened his eyes to look up at you, and you shuddered under the heat and intensity of his gaze. When Jake deemed you sufficiently clean, he drew back, licking at his lips and smoothing a hand over his face, his eyes still locked with yours.

“I …” You found that you couldn’t speak, and instead let go of your dress, letting it tumble over your thighs. Your now free hand joined the other in Jake’s hair, the both of them sweeping down over his face, thumbs brushing over his cheeks. “Wow.”

Jake chuckled, turning his head and pressing a kiss to one of your palms. “Yes, darlin’. Wow.”

/end.

[we-die-like-x-tag-tournament]

Friday, Round 1, Poll 4

[atla-confessions]

Please proof read your posts before submitting.

No beta, we die like Jet

Bruh 😭

[mochie85]

To Have and To Hold - Chapter 6

THaTH Masterlist Complete Masterlist

Summary: Loki finds Violet. Will they be reunited? A/N: I wanna thank @lokisgoodgirl for being my BETA and @michelleleewise for all the wonderful ideas. You two are the absolute best! 🥰 Pairing: Loki x OFC/Reader Word Count: Over 2K Tags/Warnings: Lots of angst. Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

There was a frenzied knock on your door that put you on high alert. You grabbed the small dagger you kept by your nightstand as you slowly made your way to the front. “Violet, I know you’re in there. It’s me. Open up!”

You raced to the lock, trying to open the door as quickly as you could. “Rhodey, what’s wrong? What are you doing here?” you asked puzzled. You hadn’t seen Rhodey in two months. Not since that video call where you asked him where your brother was stationed and if he could connect the two of you together.

“Just got a call from Cap. The Cap. Says one of the jets went missing. And the flight chart says they’re heading straight here. Now, one Avenger wanting to see her dear brother, I can believe. But three more coming this way after your supposed ‘holiday?’ What’s going on Vee?”

Three? “I-I can’t. Rhodey, please don’t tell him I’m here!” you said holding onto your stomach.

“Him? Him who?” Rhodey looked down at your figure. You could see the wheel of questions turning in his head before he let out a breath a decided it would be better if he didn’t know. “You need to hide then. Now.”

“O-ok,” you nodded.

“Lock all the doors and don’t come out till either Callum or I get you. You got that?” He instructed. You nodded your head. Your eyes followed his retreating figure onto the Humvee and he sped off. You latched every lock and turned every deadbolt you could.

You leaned on the door, sliding down to the floor as tears welled up in your eyes. He was finally coming for you. Would he be mad? Happy? You had wanted to call him every day. You wanted to talk to him, but every time you picked up the phone, you just remembered his angry cold eyes and the betrayal in his voice. You didn’t think you could live seeing or hearing that again.

You took out his note, the one that you always kept with you and prayed that he wouldn’t find you here. Because if he did, if he found out you had lied about your child, that hatred in his eyes would be cemented in them forever. Every time you would look into his deep eyes and see the pain and loathing in them, you would die a little each time. And you knew there was no way you could live like that.

The jet’s engine hummed for the past five hours. Loki sat there as patiently as he could, feeling the vibration of the aircraft, letting it soothe his anxious mind. What would he say to you? How could he convince you to come back home? To him?

“It would be past midnight when we land in a half hour. Have you gotten any rest?” Bruce asked through the headphones in the cockpit.

“I can’t sleep, Bruce. Not till I know she’s all right.” Bruce simply nodded.

“We would need clearance. Just because we’re the Avengers doesn’t mean we can barge into an American military base without cause.”

“We do have cause!” Loki argued.

“Not one that’s important in the eyes of the government. Or sanctioned for that matter.” Loki huffed his annoyance. He is getting inside that base, and no one is going to stop him. “Let me speak with the Lt. Colonel in charge before you barge in, OK?” Bruce pleaded.

Not long after, the jet was given special permission to land inside the base. Bruce, Thor, and Loki stepped out to a small battalion of armed soldiers. Heavy artillery aimed at the three men as they walked down the gangplank. Their hands raised in surrender.

“Rhodey? What is all this?” Bruce asked as he made his way to Lt. Colonel Rhodes.

“I’m wondering the same thing, Bruce. I was in Germany when I was told to get my butt over here because you three would be landing here in a few short hours. In a stolen jet, no less!”

“Borrowed!” Thor corrected.

“I was also told that HE does not have the authorization to leave American soil, let alone New York,” Rhodes pointed to Loki.

“We’re looking for Agent Moreau,” Loki yelled out.

“And what makes you think she’s here? Last I heard, she went AWOL after…” a stolen beat. Silence had entered Rhodes’ mind as he tried to decide what to say.

“After what, Colonel?” Loki demanded. From the corner of his eye, Loki noticed someone familiar. The same large eyes and facial structure as Violet. Callum. Loki watched as he exited the vehicle he was sitting in to get a closer look. When he noticed who had arrived on base, he took a big sigh and slowly started to make his way back to the civilian row, where you were.

“Why do you need her? If she’s even here that is.”

“That is none of your concern Colonel,” Loki yelled.

“Rhodey we just want to speak to her and then be on our way,” Bruce added.

“She’s not here,” Rhodey said. “I suggest you get back on that jet and go back to New York, gentlemen.”

“Lies!” Loki yelled. “You know where she is. And so does he!” Loki pointed to Callum who stopped and froze in his escape.

“Colonel Rhodes, we mean no harm. All we want is to set some things straight with Agent Moreau. Then we’ll be on our way.” Thor tried. “Would you deny us council with one of our trusted teammates?”

“Uh-huh, sure. Bruce, what is this really about? Why did you bring the smash brothers here on my base?” Rhodey asked.

“What else would this be about Rhodey? Loki came here to talk to Violet. He risked his ‘parole’ so he could see her!”

“To talk? That’s why you, The Hulk, are here? And why Lord of Thunder is here too?” Rhodey said disbelievingly.

“Would you rather I not be here to look after my brother?” Thor said impatiently.

Loki had kept an eye on Callum. Watching him retreat backward ever so slightly. Go on rabbit, lead me to where she is, he thought. Loki watched from the corner of his eye, as Callum took off to warn Violet of his arrival.

“I will do what I came here to do, and none of you can stop me.”

“Loki,” Thor warned.

“And what exactly did you come here to do?” Colonel Rhodes yelled. Loki disappeared in a cloud of smoke and reappeared not too far away. Whenever he materialized he ran in between soldiers and avoided hits and gunshots before he would disappear again making it hard to catch him.

He followed Callum as fast as he could as he lead Loki down a small street with bungalows on either side. It was a small neighborhood of civilian housing for active-duty personnel and the families that stay with them. She’s here. In one of these houses. I just know it. “Violet!”

Soldiers gathered behind him. Bruce, Rhodes, and Thor leading the way.

“Violet! Violet, Where are you?” Loki yelled out. His time was short. He needed to find her quickly. By now he’s sure that the Colonel has alerted the Captain. In turn, he would’ve alerted Asgard.

“Darling, please,” his voice resonated throughout your body. Like the deep toll of a church steeple beckoning you home. You hadn’t heard his voice in months. You hadn’t felt that richness, the depth of pain and history. You heard the sorrow and longing in his timbre, and you ached to go to him and comfort him.

You shut your eyes, hoping that this nightmare isn’t happening. That it’ll go away if you squint just hard enough and not listen.

“Loki! I’m warning you to stop this instant or I will be forced to use drastic measures!” You heard Rhodey say.

“Violet!” Loki yelled as he passed your window. You looked through the slit of the curtains onto the street. Loki stopped and turned. As if he knew where you were. As if a rope was tied between you two and he felt it recoil, pulling him back to you.

“Loki Laufeyson. You are hereby under arrest for unlawful trespassing, violation of your parole in New York, and disobeying orders from your superiors.”

“I am a prince of Asgard and the rightful king of Jotunheim. I AM THE SUPERIOR!” Loki growled. You heard shouting and a scuffle ensue. If they weren’t careful, they could all get hurt. You know how strong a rampage Loki could get in if he wasn’t careful. All these people would be injured if you didn’t do anything soon.

“STOP!” you cried out banging the door open. “Stop! Please.” You saw a whole crowd of soldiers gathered around Loki, standing in the center. Their guns pointed in his direction. Loki’s outstretched arms ready for battle as his seidr smoked out of his hands.

“Violet…” he whispered. His eyes were tired and sunken. His cheeks had gotten sharper and more defined. He hadn’t been taking good care of himself and it showed. But even with all the grief and agony written on his face, he was still the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

His eyes held onto yours as he watched you make your way through the crowd. A huff of relief escaped him, and he almost cried with joy at having seen your face again.

He noted how you had looked more radiant. More voluptuous as you made your way past the guards. There was a brightness in your eyes and a glow on your skin that he craved to touch.

Two things happened simultaneously. The first was your brother, Callum, holding his arm out to stop you from getting closer. As you reached the front, Loki took in your whole figure. Including the prominent bump that was now exposed for him to see.

The second was Colonel Rhodes using Loki’s momentary distraction to place magic-dampening cuffs on his wrist.

“Vi…Violet?” You could see Loki’s eyes, cold and confused. Thoughts flickered past his mind as he tried to assess what was happening. You were still pregnant?! But how?! “How?” His eyes squinted and his breath lashed as he watched you hold on to the precious life that was growing in your belly.

“Loki, you know the rules. You can’t just march in here like you own the place.” You could barely hear Rhodey and the monologue he was saying. He was reiterating what would happen if Loki were to ever step out of line.

You kept your eyes on Loki as his eyes darted up and down your body. “I’m sorry,” you mouthed to him as you started crying. You didn’t want him to find out like this. “I’m so sorry.”

The last thing that happened that night was something Loki didn’t anticipate happening so soon. He thought that he would at least have a day with you to reconcile. But The Fates work in more mysterious ways than he can foresee because the last thing Loki saw was you screaming for them to let him go.

“No! You can’t do that!” you screamed as your brother held on to you. “Let him go, please!” You began to sob.

More tears. More heartache. Loki had had enough. He didn’t want to see you like that again. He wanted to run to you. Comfort you. Tell you that everything was going to be ok.

But instead, a spectral light shone down on him, keeping him in place. Loki looked up confused. Everything was happening so much more quickly than he wanted.

Looking back down, he spotted you again in the crowd, “Wait for me. I’ll come back for you.”

“No, Loki. Please, stay. I’m sorry,” you cried. “This is all my fault. My fault,” you held on to Callum, trying to convince Colonel Rhodes. “Please don’t do this. Don’t let them take him.” Your breath hitched and hiccupped. The pain in your chest was all-encompassing and tearing at your heart.

“I love you,” Loki mimed before he was taken by the Bifrost, back to Asgard.

⬅️ Chapter 5 | Chapter 7 ➡️

🏷️ @emarich7 @coldnique @vickie5446 @psychospore @mukagentropy @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallows @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @holdmytesseract @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie

[ao3feed-zukka]

i think they did it (but I just can't prove it)

Read now on Ao3 at https://ift.tt/hXigzyI by theideaofthefall Katara just knows something is up. She can’t exactly pinpoint what. It’s just…there are so many little signs that everyone, even the human lie detector Toph seems completely oblivious to. She’s been rethinking the whole situation in her head so many times… When all of a sudden, Zuko waltzes in with some of his own hair strands...burned? And Sokka, right after him, with his hand covered in bandages. Words: 2351, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Avatar: The Last Airbender Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Toph Beifong, Ty Lee (Avatar), Mai (Avatar), Sokka (Avatar), Zuko (Avatar), Aang (Avatar), Katara (Avatar), The Gaang (Avatar), Iroh (Avatar) Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Aang/Katara (Avatar) Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Secret Relationship, Firelord Zuko (Avatar), Ambassador Sokka (Avatar), Post-Canon, Oblivious Aang (Avatar), Tags Are Hard, Implied Sexual Content, Fluff, katara knows something is up, everybody are oblivious, katara in her sherlock era, Let Toph Say Fuck, no beta we die like jet, they are very gay your honor, it doesn't align with comics because I wrote this and I can do whatever I want, Hurt/Comfort, may involve some accidents with candles (in non sexy way?), its short but its long Read it on Ao3 at https://ift.tt/hXigzyI

[ptolomia]

Poison Either Way - Chapter 1

Summary: Ivory “Ivy” Demetrius, daughter of Demeter, member of the Avengers, and Bucky Barnes’ sworn enemy. Could a two week mission in Milan mend their relationship or will it open old wounds and tear them further?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Asian!OC/Reader

Series warnings: Canon Typical Violence, war, blood, gore, death.

Chapter warnings: Flashbacks, Angst, Bucky being cruel, Bucky calls Ivy a bitch, No beta we die like Loki.

A/N: The flashback is italicised to make the reading experience smoother. Message me to be added to the taglist! Happy Reading🫶

Fury had called, instructing me to pack my things for an international mission. Though begrudgingly, I prepared for the worst, packing as lightly as I could. I sighed when I realised how late it was. Rushing into my car I made sure to inform my friend, Allie I was dropping off my cat, Salem. Once she was taken care of I began speeding to the tower.

“There ‘ya are, Ivy,” Bucky’s accent pricked at my ears. As I slipped off the elevator. “What do you want, Barnes?” the words came out with more venom than I’d intended. “Nothin’ Fury told me to come find you, he’s ready to brief us.” he says lazily.

“Avengers, you’re tasked with infiltrating the bases of a new criminal organisation called INDIGO. Your goal is to confiscate their replicas of Dr. Banner’s Hulk serum, our inside sources dictate that they’re using the radiation to create mutants set to destroy SWORD. This will allow soldiers of Thanos onto earth. Your mission will span two weeks as you will cover 1 of 3 international bases each. Ivy, you will be paired with Barnes in Milan, Roger’s and Wilson will be going to California, While Romanov and Barton handle Russia. Is this clear?” Fury’s words left me appalled. Me, and Bucky? How am I meant to spend weeks in Italy with that him? I open my mouth to object but my mouth runs dry. With a raised eyebrow Nick turns and disappears into the shadows.

As I walk up the stairs of our jet I can’t help but remember how cheerful everyone else was. Natasha and Clint boarded their flight joking about their days in budapest while Sam and Steve walked side by side. It was bizarre, there I was sitting on a private jet, across from the only person on the team I despised. I would’ve been perfectly happy with anyone but him, and still. Fury stuck me with him in a misguided attempt to soften our relationship. He’s wrong, there is no “softening” my relationship with Bucky, not after what he said about me, not after he shattered my soul.

Hungary - 2018

My first international mission, I was paired with Bucky and I couldn’t’ve been happier. I’d been harbouring a feelings for him for months. The weeks we spent together had allowed hope to bloom in my chest. I began thinking that romance was blossoming between us. That was until the pinnacle of our mission came.

We’d successfully made it into HYDRA’s Hungarian base, taking down several of their agents before their tech room erupted in flames. The grenade they had set off filling my lungs with smoke. I scrambled to find Bucky, he had to be here somewhere, he was my partner after all. He had to be here!

Jumping through the broken glass I stumbled down the hallway, opening all of the doors before fire could engulf them. I had to find him damn it! My patience wore thin as I reached the end of the hall, one last door, one last chance to find him before we burnt to death.

I jumped into the office, relieved to find Bucky sprawled on the couch by the balcony. I held him up, dragging us to the balcony where Sam could easily see us and send help our way.

In the helicopter I held onto him, “Ivy, please.” he said squeezing my hand lightly. Using my powers, I asked the medic to let me mend the gash on his forehead. He looked up at me, smiling lightly as i started to pinch his skin back together. I hadn’t noticed the way my venom slowly seeped into him. It wasn’t until the all familiar seizing began that I realised what I’d just done. I held him tight, stilling him as the medic injected him with an antitoxin.

When he came to we were in a hospital room, 5 hours later. When he gained the strength to open his eyes he practically leered at me, “What did you do you bitch?!” his words pierced straight through my heart. “Bucky liste-” he cut me off immediately, “No! Why would I listen to you? You almost killed me! I trusted you and you poisoned me!” he said, his hands still shaking. He yelled at me, instructing me to leave immediately, so I did, abandoning the flora of hope that blossomed within me alongside him.

The memory left as Bucky snapped his fingers at me. I looked up at him, raising an eyebrow wordlessly. “What’s got you twisted?” he asked unamused. “Nothing, I was just thinking about all the ways I’m gonna make this mission miserable for you.” I smiled, masking the ache in my chest. “Yeah? Try not to kill me this time, that way you have someone to keep miserable.” He rolled his eyes at me, standing to get a drink.

[charturnus]

Diversionary Tactics pt. 1

Ships: Wanda x Female!Reader - Natasha x Female!Reader

a/n: For Magda, here's to your 25th, and another year of growth, happiness, laughter, and love. I would have given you the world, but you won't let me so here is some smut instead. I'm so grateful to be your friend, and I cannot wait to watch you grow in the next year. Remember that I love you to the moon and to Saturn. @stonemags you did ask me to post it at the end of the day, doesn't get more the end of the day than a few minutes before midnight.

Summary: Everybody is pretty sure you're on a path to destroying yourself. You're pretty sure all you want is your strap down Wanda's throat. Opinions differ.

Warnings: 18+, top!reader, bottom!Wanda, face fucking, throat bulge, strap on, degradation, honorifics, vaginal sex, self loathing, angst. No beta we die like men.

Word count: 5k

‘’Alright kids, now remember, stick to plan,’’ Tony says severely, rising from his seat on the quinjet, ‘’no improv, no games, no funny business.’’ His eyes sweep across the room, and I feel his gaze lingering on me. I don’t look at him, instead pretending to be very interested in the map of the hydra base we’re about to invade. ‘’I want you all back here safe and sound, ready to be tucked in by Rogers and Hill at the end of the day, capiche?’’ From my periphery, I’ve been watching him move closer and closer, but now I can no longer feign ignorance. I look up slightly, Tony in his shiny red and gold suit, ready to close the armour over his face. When he speaks, it sounds like he’s addressing the whole group, but his eyes are locked firmly onto mine.’’

‘’And remember, don’t play the hero.’’

***

One by one, my colleagues jump from the jet, after they don their suits, and grab their parachutes if necessary. I watch as Steve checks Sam’s suit before allowing him to jump. Sam has barely disappeared from view before Tony grabs me by the scruff of my neck, pulling me away from the opening in the floor.

‘’Why aren’t you in your suit?’’ Annoyed, I bat his hand away, my bone hits the metal of his armour, and pain shoots up my arm, but I fight to keep my expression neutral. ‘’It’s not really my style, you know, with all that colour.’’ I’m well aware that I’m being difficult, but I can’t put a stop to it. I’m so exhausted that I’m ready to burn a whole city to the ground, myself along with it. The suit is incredible, but also flashy and extremely heavy. And maybe I enjoy making things harder than they need to be, so what? Tony stares at me incredulously, before turning to Steve as if to check if he heard my comment too. Steve just holds up his hands in defeat, ‘’I’m not getting caught up in this, Tony, handle it yourself.’’

Coward. 

‘’Not your-’’ Tony halts, breathing sharply in utter annoyance, ‘’you know people have committed murder to get a hold of one of my suits.’’ 

‘’I’ll pour one out for them.’’ 

‘’Romanoff, help me, before I duct tape the kid to the wall,’’ Tony grumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose with his shining red fingers. The last thing I need right now is Nat with her lectures about what’s good for me, and while I know she means well, and I love her so much, I want nothing more than for her to just shut up. Both of them, actually. 

Before she gets a chance to speak, I hold up a finger in the air. ‘’Actually, you know, this thing has been really bothering me lately.’’ Nat looks genuinely interested and concerned, and I almost feel bad for fucking with her. ‘’There’s this little bone in your jaw, apparently, I never knew about it before.’’ I use my fingers to pretend like I’m looking for something in my jaw. ‘’There,’’ I say, stopping near where my wisdom teeth once sat. ‘’Can you feel that?’’ Nat goes along with it, trying to mimic where I’ve placed my own fingers. ‘’I think I can feel something, yeah.’’ 

‘’Yeah, right there. Turns out, that bone allows you to shut the fuck up.’’ 

Both of them look furious, and I decide that this is my cue to get out. I hold up my hands in an imitation of Steve, walking backwards like I’m retreating and admitting my defeat. The parachutes are now right behind me, ready to be snatched up by my willing hands. 

‘’Nat, I love you, I really do. And I respect the hell out of you, Tony, but it’s not going to happen.’’ Quick as a flash, my fingers secure one of the chutes, and with two quick steps, I’m at the edge of the open floor. ‘’I don’t need your suit, I’m feeling brave.’’ 

Nat and Steve both dive at me, but I’m too fast for them, letting myself fall backwards into the open sky. 

Falling…

Falling…

Falling…

***

The fight was a disaster, to say the least. The mission was accomplished, but barely. Clint and Bucky both got wounded pretty badly, and everyone else has seen better days. I myself would have been crushed to death along with Peter and Natasha if Wanda hadn’t kept the bricks from falling just long enough so that we could make a quick escape. Still, one of the Hydra agents got me in the head with the but of his gun, causing blood to stream copiously from the wound, coating my face. I shot him in the foot for his trouble, though. 

Tony has called us all to the medical bay, no doubt to lecture us all on our performance. Even I can’t find a reason not to obey this command, so I slow down my pace deliberately in order to fall behind the group. 

Jumping from the jet without my suit wasn’t my best idea, but I made it to the ground in one piece. The landing was rough, though, and I seriously hurt my left leg in the process. My knee and ankle are still killing me now, but I try not to show too much of it. The injury seriously impedes my ability to run, slowing me down enough to be an easy target for the hydra agents. Nat and Tony had to save my ass more than once, and the thought of facing them after that show I put on in the jet is beyond embarrassing. 

I need some way to recover from this bruise on my ego. I wouldn’t say I have a God complex per se, but I put a lot of stock in my fighting ability, and my performance today was severely lacking. I need a reminder that this is not who I am. 

Instantly, my eyes find Wanda in the group of people walking ahead of me. 

It’s almost accidental. Almost. 

Her hair is in a ponytail, and she looks to be amongst one of the most unscathed team members. Wanda’s magic has been growing incredibly strong recently, and she most certainly doesn’t need a suit to keep herself safe. Still, her attitude doesn’t reflect her powers. In battle, Wanda is fierce, throwing around grown men like they’re rag dolls. Back at the compound, it is she who prefers to be thrown around like a rag doll. 

I think that’s just what I need. Wanda gagging on my cock so loudly that the voice in my head calling me a failure finally shuts up. 

‘’Hey,’’ Peter calls from behind me, breaking me away from the images in my head. The poor kid looks pretty beaten up, but he’s smiling in spite of it all. ‘’That was a tough one, huh? I almost thought Mr Stark was gonna call off the whole mission.’’ Peter’s limping, his right leg clearly too tender to stand on. My own leg feels like absolute hell, but I can’t let Pete struggle his way over to the med bay without help. ‘’Yeah, it was a tough one for sure. You got your leg hurt? Here, let me help.’’ I scoop one of his arms over my shoulder, helping him take some weight off of his leg. In turn, that puts extra weight onto mine, sending tendrils of pain shooting up all the way to my hip. This is no time for weakness, though, no time for pain or tears. I just grit my teeth and help Peter over to a bed in the medical bay, while he chats to me about how he saw a guy’s shoes get blown off his feet by the force of an explosion created by Strange. 

To everybody’s surprise, and horror, it isn’t Tony giving us the lecture. Once we’re all grouped in the medical bay, surrounding our hurt team members in their beds, Maria Hill emerges from the side entrance of the bay. Behind me, I hear Scott curse, and Peter gives me a concerned look from where he’s sitting with his leg elevated. 

‘’She looks really mad,’’ Wanda whispers, and a few of us who heard look over to where she stands with her back to the wall, nervously picking at the hem of her dress. Wanda is always so self-assured in battle, making seasoned warriors lose their minds with her magic. But out here it’s like she draws into herself completely, always needing reassurance and protection. 

So, naturally, I go to her. Compared to me, Wanda looks like she just got out of a spa. There isn’t a spot of blood or dirt on her. Her knees are dusty, and she has a scrape on her forehead, but there’s no sign of it breaking the skin badly enough to actually release any blood. She’s just a little dusty. Meanwhile, the whole right side of my face and hair are covered in my own blood. Head wounds always bleed like they’re going to end your life, even if they’re not so serious. This one certainly doesn’t feel too bad, but that might be the adrenaline talking. 

‘’You’re okay, dove.’’ I tell her, ‘’Hill might be mad, but she didn’t see what it was like out there. And besides, you did so well out there.’’

‘’Really?’’ She looks up at me with those pretty green eyes, full of innocence and disbelief, as if she can’t remember how she single-handedly saved three of her colleagues’ lives. I wonder how much of it is an act, but then, even if it is, do I really care? She gives me those same eyes when she sucks me off, and I certainly don’t care then. 

For the most part, I manage to tune out Hill’s shrill voice as she lectures us like a bunch of naughty school children. I’m too occupied with Wanda trying to cuddle up to me, moving to stand with her back against my front, pressing her ass into my crotch.

She’s always desperate to be fucked after a fight. 

‘’And next time, remember. Playing the hero doesn’t pay off, if I hear of anyone going into battle without a suit, you’re getting pulled from the team.’’ This most certainly catches my attention. She has enough grace to not address me by name, but everyone is looking at me anyway, so I decide to make use of the stage provided for me. ‘’Will you kick out Tony if he keeps making those ugly suits?’’ The reaction is a real mixed bag. Shuri doubles over with laughter, and Scott and Strange are fighting their smiles. Hill looks furious, and so does Nat, but I think the latter has something to do with my hand being placed firmly on Wanda’s midriff. 

***

I act like Hill’s commentary doesn’t bother me, like Tony’s disappointment doesn’t sting. Fake it until you make it, right? I know I was wrong for doing what I did, but I seem to be rapidly losing control of any and all rational decision-making skills. I’m not trying to get myself killed, like my teammates are probably thinking. I don’t want to die, not yet, there’s still so much for me to see and do. But barely scraping the edge, coming face to face with it and walking away alive, that is a feeling like no other. It makes me feel untouchable, godlike even. 

It’s almost as good as having my fist in Wanda’s hair as she tries to take my cock down her throat. She’s so desperate to please and be comforted that it’s almost laughable. The promise of getting tucked in at night, and fucked how she likes it, is enough to turn her into a desperate little whore. 

She’s on her knees for me on her pretty white rug. My boots flank her on either side, some enemy’s blood visible even over the black of my combat boots. I can see my own face in the mirror on the opposite side of the room, the whole front of it is covered in my own blood, now dry and flaking off. Wanda didn’t even let me wash myself first, insisting that she likes me fresh from the fight. 

She’s a pretty sight, kneeling between my feet like this, but she’s slacking off on taking my strap. I’m not in the mood for niceties today. I need to remind myself of the power I wield, before I allow myself to become overrun with weakness. 

Wanda has one hand at the base of my cock, and she’s suckling prettily on the head. ‘’That’s cute, dove.’’ I say, leaning forward to grab her by the throat, ‘’but you know that’s not what I want.’’ 

I lay her down on her desk, so I can stand up instead of hunching over undignified on the bed. Her head hangs over one side, and her open mouth, wet and waiting, is much too inviting. The sound of her gagging is like music to my ears. This isn’t wholly selfish either, I have to remind myself. Poor Wanda, so tired of having to be a big girl all the time, just needs someone to put her in her place. Who am I to deny her?

She lays there so prettily, mouth wide open and willing, her legs spread and her hips bucking up in search of non-existent friction. I’m obsessed with the way my cock bulges in her throat, bobbing up and down along with my thrusts. I could cum just from the sight of this, and the noises Wanda makes below me as I take her. This harness has a soft silicone grinder that is made especially to sit snugly against my clit, and with the combined friction from the strap, and the sight of my cock deep in Wanda’s throat, it’s enough to put me right on the edge. I won’t let myself fall though, it will take me right out of this high and then the self-hatred will settle in. I’m not ready to face that. Even just the thought of it makes me shiver, and I have to ground myself in the moment to push those thoughts to the back of my mind.

I place first one, and then both of my hands over her throat, feeling the movement of my strap. My hands are large enough to cover her whole neck, and it’s nothing short of satisfying to be so utterly in control. At least with Wanda, I’m always the one standing tall. Her face is all red and saliva is running down her cheeks, gravity pulling it dangerously close to her eyes, where tears are dribbling steadily into her hairline. 

Still, the strap isn’t all the way down her throat. We’ve been working on it, but she’s not quite there yet. I try to push her a little bit every time, and she’s been doing better and better. But it’s still hard for her. She lets out one gag so bad that I have to pull out completely for a second, allowing her to spit out a mouth full of saliva onto the floor. I’m not phased by this. Once you’ve seen men die in the worst ways possible, a little spit is nothing. 

I squat down, holding back the stream of swears I want to let out at the horrible pain in my leg. I use my thumbs to wipe the saliva and tears away from her eyes, and I give her a kiss on her sweaty brow. ‘’You’re doing so well, princess. Can you try again for me? Just a few seconds, I want you to take all of me. You can do that for me, can’t you pretty girl?’’ She catches her breath slowly, her mouth still open. Already fucked dumb, and I haven’t even gotten to her cunt yet. She nods at me blearily, ‘’wanna make you proud, daddy.’’ 

Something in my chest contracts at that, but I couldn’t name the emotion if my life depended on it. For now, I try to focus on how wet the sight of her like this makes me. ‘’Good girl,’’ I say as I stroke the strap lightly, rubbing the head over her luscious lips. ‘’Just a few seconds, and then I’ll let you cum, okay?’’ She nods, and obediently opens her mouth further for me. ‘’Good, now relax your throat and let daddy do the work.’’ 

I hold her head securely, making sure it’s tipped back enough, before sliding my hands back over her throat, I’m going to want to feel this. I’m not gentle, and I really can’t find it in me to be sorry about that, not when this feels and looks like complete and utter euphoria. I fuck my cock into her with one sharp thrusts. She gags instantly and sputters, her hands reaching for my thighs trying to push me away, but I don’t let her. I reassure her softly that she’s doing great and that it won’t take long, which seems to make it easier on her. I push against the last bits of resistance, sliding the strap all the way in. I rut into her mouth, as deep as I can. The sounds coming from her are obscene, but I cannot bring myself to pull back. In the back of my mind, I’m counting seconds. I’ll allow myself to stay here and soak this in for 20 seconds. With my fingers, I press lightly on her throat to feel the bulge of my cock inside of her. The zip of my trousers digs into her skin, and I know it’ll leave a mark there. 

The pressure against my clit threatens to undo me, and I let myself get dangerously close. I even grind my hips, fucking her throat lightly. One day, I’m going to hook a cum reservoir onto my strap and cum down her throat, along with my own orgasm. But not now. I have to control myself, so when the count in my head reaches 20, I pull out. 

Wanda is back to spitting out saliva and gasping for air. She coughs a few times, and it sounds pretty rough. I help her up, cradling her in my arms. The hard work is done now, I assure her. For a few minutes, I sit with her draped over my lap on her bed. I cradle her head into my chest, petting her hair and whispering praise to her. ‘’You did so beautifully, dove. You’re getting so much better, do you remember how you couldn’t even take half of me when we first started?’’ She’s gone too far into subspace to really speak, but she’s still responsive, and I feel her nod. 

‘’One day I’m going to be able to fuck you like that for 10 minutes straight, princess, and you’ll love every second of it.’’ This seems to stir something in her, because she mewls into me, spreading her legs slightly. We’re both still clothed, and I must say it’s a thrill to fuck Wanda with her dress still on. But not today. I strip her of everything except for her thigh highs, as they make her look like the slut I know she is. 

She’s incredibly wet, her cunt swollen and red, moisture running down between her cheeks. I consider for a while if I should make her wait, but I don’t want to deprive myself of watching my cock disappear inside of her. 

Instinctively, she tries to get on her hands and knees, but I’m not having that. I grab her by her waist and lay her down underneath me. I could almost laugh at her pained expression. She’s moaning already, and I haven’t even touched her yet. Using both of my hands, I part her thighs and push them up to her chest. Her breasts bounce slightly as I manhandle her into position, and my mind has already skipped ahead to watching them move in time with my thrusts as I fuck her. 

I keep both hands steady on the backs of her thighs, folding her almost in half. I look down to where my strap stands at attention, teasingly I slide it over her slit, enjoying the way she writhes when the slightest pressure is applied to her clit. 

Who’s going to tell her this is for me, and not for her? 

In sharp contrast to how I fucked her throat, I slide myself in gently, allowing her some time to adjust. She’s gasping, and clawing at my clothed back, and I’m slightly upset that she’s not leaving deep red marks all over my bare back. Oh, well. 

After a few short minutes of light teasing

She’s trying to move her hips against me, but I have her in such a tight hold that she’s getting nowhere. ‘’Tell me what you want, pretty girl,’’ I goad her. She huffs and puffs, her face still bright red, her hair sticking to the sweat on her brow and the semi dry salvia on her cheeks. ‘’Please, please, please,’’ she whines breathily, ‘’ruin me, daddy.’’

How am I supposed to deny a request like that? 

I take my chain necklace into my teeth, so it doesn’t hurt her by smacking into her face, and I set a punishing rhythm for us both. My leg is killing me, but Wanda underneath me like this is such a captivating sight that I cannot stop myself. She holds me against her tightly, like she’s afraid I’ll let go. In her defence, I’ve left her like this multiple times, so the poor girl probably has trust issues. 

Tears are falling freely from the corners of her eyes now, and I’m so focussed on that, that I don’t notice one of her hands leaving my back. She snakes it in between our bodies, so she can reach her clit. When she moans sharply and her body seizes up, I realize what she’s doing. Quickly, I reach down to snatch her hand away. 

I pull my strap out in one swift movement. With my free hand, I squeeze her cheeks and force her to look me in the eye. ‘’That’s a shame, I was going to let you cum, but now you’ll have to work harder for it.’’

I decide to make her ride me. 

It’s hilarious to watch her try to mount me with her shaky thighs. The poor thing is actually crying now, her tears dripping down all the way to her chest, along with her salvia. With one hand I hold both of her wrists tightly, with the other I rub her spit over her hard nipples, enjoying the way her hips twitch when I rub them in just the right way. 

Once she manages to sink herself down on my cock, she thinks she can get away with grinding her way to an orgasm, but I disillusion her of that idea quickly. ‘’Nuh uh, baby, if you want to cum you’re going to have to work for it properly.

After a small fit of crying and whining, she gets down to work. Fucking herself until her already shaky thighs are on the verge of giving out. She has let her head hang forward, absolutely exhausted. All that I can hear now are the obscene, wet, sucking noises that come from between her thighs, and the exhausted little moans and pleas to relieve her of her ache. 

She holds out for a heroic 15 minutes, until her thighs quite literally cannot keep her upright any longer. I had taken pity on her about 7 minutes into it, but it’s still impressive to watch her fight for it so hard. I take her face in both of my hands and kiss her forehead tenderly. ‘’Alright baby girl, you took that so well. Are you ready for your reward now?’’

In spite of her exhaustion, she nods, a soft whimper coming from her red and puffy lips. I put her on her elbows and knees, but within the first few thrusts she collapses under me. I hold her upright easily, fucking into her like it’s the last time I’ll be able to. She’s a bit too loud, and I know the others will have dirty looks for us tomorrow, but I really don’t care. 

I place a sloppy kiss on her back as I finally reach down to rub her clit. ‘’You can cum whenever you need to, princess.’’ I grunt, as I use all my focus to keep up with the thrusts and the rhythm of my rubbing fingers. 

Thankfully, it doesn’t take long. It’s impressive, really. In less than ten seconds, she’s cumming all over my fingers, her cunt clenching so tightly around my strap that it makes it hard to move as firmly as I would like. I fuck her right through her peak, and I’m prepared to push her into another, but Wanda is clearly done.

She’s shaking and shivering, her muscles weak and tired, she still tries to push me away. I’m tired myself now, so I don’t need any more incentive. I pull out of her and cover her tenderly with a blanket. She wants to go to sleep, and I don’t blame her. But I force her into a shower, sitting on the lid of the toilet, I watch over her to make sure she doesn’t pass out. 

Once she’s freshly showered, I tuck her in. I lay on top of her sheets, which feels wrong in my state, covered in dust and dried blood as I am. Wanda doesn’t seem to mind, though. She begs me to stay, and I don’t have the heart to tell her I won’t. So, I comb my fingers through her fair, and kiss her slowly, telling her how good she’s been for me, and that it’s time to rest now. It doesn’t take her more than 15 minutes to fall asleep.

Once I’m sure she’s out, I tip toe my way across the room, and out into the hallway. Stupidly, I have my back to the hallway as I close the door. I try to shut it as softly as possible, not wanting to wake Wanda. I’m so tired after all of that, that my eyes feel heavy. I’m ready for a hot shower, and bedtime, before the thoughts of the mission can overwhelm me. 

My room is next to Wanda’s, so I don’t expect any trouble, but really, trouble always shows up when you least expect it. In this case, trouble comes to me in the shape of Natasha Romanoff. 

*** 

Nat corners me as soon as Wanda’s door is closed. 

‘’What the hell have you been doing?’’ 

I narrow my eyes at her, not sure if she’s serious. I look down to the harness and strap in my left hand, and then look back to Nat. ‘’What do you want me to say, that we were braiding each other’s hair and talking about boys?’’ 

She crosses her arms over her chest. ‘’I don’t care what you get up to with her.’’ 

That’s debatable. 

‘’I mean the mission today, and every mission we’ve been on this past month. What the hell has gotten into you?’’ 

I try to sidestep her, to get to my own bedroom door, but she blocks my path. ‘’You were out there trying to get yourself killed.’’ Nat hisses. 

At this point I’m too tired to deal with this, so I snap back at her, ‘’Well, I’m clearly still alive’’ 

Nat’s eyes are boring into mine with such intensity that I would shrink away if I didn’t have a reputation to uphold. ‘’You going out there without a suit on? What do you call that?’’  She fumes. 

I shrug, a genuine half smile creeping into my lips in spite of the dire circumstances, ‘’an adventure?’’

‘’That was attempted suicide,’’ Nat says severely, clearly not as amused as I am. I just snort, unable to keep myself from cracking a joke ‘’I’m going to show you attempted suicide’’ 

Her mouth forms a hard line, ‘’that’s not funny.’’ I know it’s not, and I can tell she’s upset, but I can’t wipe the stupid smile off my face. 

She’s on the verge of saying something when the sound of a door opening makes us both turn around. Peter is standing in the doorway of his bedroom, wearing only a Captain America branded shirt and a pair of boxers. I quickly hide the strap and harness behind my back. ‘’Hey guys,’’ he says cheerfully, in spite of the limp in his step. ‘’I was going to make myself a freezer pizza, you want anything?’’ 

Nat gives him a tight smile and shakes her head. ‘’No, thanks, Pete,’’ I tell him, ‘’I still haven’t cleaned up, I’ll get something after.’’ 

Seeming to pick up on the uncomfortably loaded energy, he pulls an awkward face and shoots a pair of finger guns at us. ‘’Okay, well I’ll hide a margarita pizza for you underneath the ice cubes, so you won’t get stuck with the Hawaiian.’’ Peter really is a good friend, I decide. ‘’Thanks, kid, I owe you one,’’ I say, watching him limp clumsily towards the kitchen. Once the door has fallen shut behind him, Nat grabs my upper arm and tries to pull me towards her own bedroom. I shrug her off. 

‘’I want to shower, Nat, I’m covered in blood.’’ 

‘’And Wanda’s cum.’’ 

‘’Jealous it’s not yours?’’

Her eyes are ablaze with fury now, and there’s no hiding it. ‘’You’re trying to kill yourself, and I’m not going to sit here and watch you lose yourself.’’ 

‘’Nat, I’m fine.’’ I say, slowly losing my smile. 

‘’You don’t look fine.’’ 

‘’Then stop fucking looking at me.’’

It comes out much louder than I had intended for it to, and it startles me slightly. I can see Nat is taken aback by it too, but she’s not afraid. Her expression shifts from anger to concern in a matter of seconds. ‘’

‘’Can you just listen to me? Please, if not for your sake, then for mine. I’m not your enemy’’ 

I can’t argue with this, not when she looks so upset and my conscience is screaming at me after that outburst. I weigh my options in my head, I can go to the kitchen with Peter and god knows who else, and face all of their questions about why I went into the fight without a suit, and why I haven’t showered yet. Alternatively, I could try to barricade myself in my room, and ignore Nat, but I have a nasty feeling that this won’t take me very far. 

‘’Fine,’’ I say, deciding this will be the least painful option in the long run. ‘’Fine, Nat, whatever, but I’m tired, so please keep this short. And don’t lecture me any more about the suit, Hill already did that plenty.’’

‘’Just put that thing away,’’ she says, waving vaguely at my strap. 

‘’And here I was thinking you wanted a round too.’’

[mycomfortblanket]

Without Interruptions

Toph and Katara are on the dance floor, their hips swaying to the music. Toph can feel the bass pump through her as she lifts her hands over her head when she feels large hands settle on her waist and a body press against her back. 

"Can I join you?" a man yells in her ear. Toph doesn't answer, just continues to sway her hips to the beat. The man's hands start to roam her body and she can't help but close her eyes and lean her head back against his shoulder. 

She feels someone close in on her front, and for a brief moment, she panics, thinking she's about to be abducted. "The guys are watching, you know," Katara's voice shouts over the music. 

Toph feels Katara lean back and out of her space, but her hand continues to grip onto Toph's. A smile comes to her lips and she shrugs at her friend. So what if the guys are watching her? They should be proud of her for pulling some random without even having to speak a word to him. 

They dance to a few more songs, her hand never letting go of Katara's even while the guy continues to feel her up. Eventually, Katara leans in close again, "Go to the bar with me. Now," and there's an insistent tug at her hand. 

The smile drops from Toph's face as she's pulled after Katara. She can just barely hear the guy behind her say what the fuck, but the alcohol that is coursing through her system isn't allowing her to care very much right now. 

They finally make it to the bar and Katara sets her hand on an empty stool, letting her know where she can sit. Pulling the stool out, she hops up onto it. "So, what the fuck was that for?" Toph asks, her voice has just a slight slur to it but she feels completely sober... which probably isn't a good thing. 

"That guy had his hands on you in a way that..." Katara trails off. Toph thinks that she is just going to drop the subject when she hears Katara rattle off a drink order to someone. The bartender must have come up to take their order. 

"Anyways. I could tell Aang was getting upset about it. You know, you should really watch how you flirt with other guys when he is around. Doesn't exactly go over his head or make him feel good."

Toph's brow furrows, "What do you mean?" Katara lifts Toph's hand and guides it forward and rests it against a cold glass. Lifting the drink to her lips, she takes a sip and is pleasantly surprised to find a sweet-tasting drink.

"I'm giving you a look right now. A 'You're fucking kidding' look."

"Why are you giving me a look? I didn't do anything! I can dance with whoever I want. What does Aang care? He should go out there and dance, too." She sips at her drink some more, an intrusive thought telling her to chug it all, but she knows better than that. She has no idea what kind of drink this is or what kind of alcohol is in it. 

"Wow, you really don't see it, do you?" Katara says seriously. 

"I don't see a lot of things," Toph says pointedly. She is about to ask Katara to elaborate a little when she feels a hand touch the small of her back. The person leans down a little and says in her ear, "Hey."

Smiling, Toph turns to face Aang. "Hey, Katara says you're upset about something. Care to clue me in?" Toph feels Aang move a little and a muffled yell and protest comes from Katara. 

"I'm not upset," Aang says in her ear again. Usually, she would let it go, but there's something off in his voice that makes her hesitate. Before she can call him out on it, he moves away from her personal space so she can't ask him if she wants him to hear her. 

"No, wait," she reaches out and grabs his arm. Her fingers touch the soft fabric of his shirt and instantly grips the material and pulls him back to her. She feels him stumble slightly as his foot hits her stool and his arms shoot out and kind of encircle her as they brace against the bar on either side of her. She can feel how close he is to her, she knows that if she were to turn her face, they'd practically be sharing the same breath. "Talk to me," she says at a normal level and she knows Aang can hear her. 

For a moment, all she can feel is Aang's breath on her face and then a hand is grabbing hers and pulling her off her chair and away from the others. She lets him lead because A) she has no idea where he is wanting to go, B) there are way too many people here for her to navigate this place on her own, and C) she kind of likes the way his hand feels in hers. 

Eventually, they clear the crowd and she hears a door being pushed open and she's pulled into a room. The door shuts behind her and the sound of the club is immediately muffled to a dull roar. "Are we in the bathroom?"

"You asked why I was upset," is all he says to her. Toph cocks her head a little bit at his tone. It sounds just a little bit sad with a hint of anger. 

"Yeah. I mean, I had just talked to you before Katara and I had gone out to the dance floor and you were fine then."

He lets go of her hand and she hears him walk away for a second, he huffs out a breath and laughs a little, "Aang, what is it? Talk to me," she steps forward, her hand reaching out to feel for him, but he is just out of reach. 

"I saw the way you were dancing with-" he cuts himself off, "With him," he finally spits out.

She begins to nod but stops herself. Why would he be upset about her dancing with someone? he's never been upset about that before, in fact, he used to make fun of her for it. 

"I don't see what that has to do-" his hands come to her shoulders and she is roughly shoved against the wall. 

She is just about to open her mouth to yell what the fuck, but she feels lips against her own. Soft lips. Lips that feel as if they are made just for her and for no one else. Her eyes are open wide and the shock is rolling off of her in waves. 

Toph can feel Aang beginning to pull back from her, but she lifts her hands to his shoulders and pulls him tighter against her, and starts to kiss him back. She can feel the smile that pulls at his lips as his hands travel down to her hips to slip under her shirt, and runs his hands back up against her bare skin. 

"You have no idea how badly I wanted to be the one out there with you. Having you grind against me," he growls out. He moves his lips down to her jaw and nips at the skin there as he makes a trial to her ear. "Seeing his hands on you," he sucks a bruise into her skin, just under her ear and she's having a hard time keeping track of this conversation, "I'm the only one who should be touching you like that."

He bends and grabs the back of her thighs, picking her up easily. He presses her against him and the wall and she wraps her legs around his waist. Placing her hand on the back of his head, she brings their lips back together, trying to kiss him, but one of his hands leaves her and travels up to her hair. He grips the strands and pulls her head back, exposing her neck. Aang attaches his mouth to her skin and sucks another mark into the hollow of her throat. 

Toph is practically panting and a desperate whine leaves her lips when he runs his tongue over the mark he had just made and then nips at the skin. 

He moves then, walking somewhere in the room, and places her down onto a counter. She can feel water on her thighs and seeping through her shorts, but she honestly can't bring herself to care when Aang presses himself harder against her, his mouth back on hers. 

Toph wraps her arms around his neck and keeps him close to her, making sure his mouth isn't leaving hers anytime soon. His hands are gripping at the top of her hips and eventually slip up to dig into her hips. 

He pulls her tighter against him and she can feel how hard he is against her inner thigh, and an uncharacteristic moan spills from her lips. Aang chuckles and rocks his hips into hers, trying to pull that sound from her again. 

The sound of the door opening is what actually pulls them apart. Toph's head swivels towards the sound, but Aang just uses the opportunity to attach his mouth to the underside of her jaw. 

"Uh... I'll just... hold it," a man's voice says and she hears the door swing shut again. 

"Jesus, Aang. Can we go somewhere else? Like, literally anywhere else where someone won't walk in on us?"

~~~

The kitchen counter at Aang's apartment is where she's shoved next. They had left the bar and hailed a cab, barely remembering to text their friends saying they were headed home for the night. The whole ride home, Aang's hand never left the upper part of Toph's thigh, and his promises were being whispered into her ear. By the time they climbed out of the taxi, Toph could practically feel herself dripping. 

Aang had grabbed her hand in his and together, they all but ran up the stairs to his apartment complex, stopping every so often to kiss each other and giggle at how drunk the other was when they fell against the stairwell wall. 

Toph is sure the plan was to make it to his bedroom, but they didn't get further than the kitchen, and the cool granite under her burning skin feels good. The whole ride here was a new type of foreplay that she isn't used to so she's almost begging by the time his fingers start fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

She pulls away from his lips and takes the hem from his hands and rips the material over her head. She grabs his hand and immediately places it on her breast which she arches up into. She's desperate and doesn't know how to communicate that to him because her words are currently failing her. 

Somehow, bless him, somehow he knows just what he needs and he pulls the cup of her bra down and latches his lips onto her nipple. "Oh, fuck," a broken moan tumbles from her lips, and her hand comes up to grip the back of his neck, making sure he doesn't move. 

Aang swirls his tongue around her nipple as he reaches behind her to unclasp her bra. The straps slip down her shoulders and Toph tries with shaking hands to remove it from herself. 

"Goddammit, Aang. I can't, I can't-" she arches further into his mouth. His hands grip her waist, holding her against him as he works his mouth against her before he moves to her other. Reaching up with one of his hands, he gently massages the breast he just moved from. He pinches the bud between his index finger and thumb, rolling it gently. 

Toph feels like her body is on fire, she needs to be touched, touched more than what he is currently doing, and she needs it now. Her hands go to the waistband of her shorts and she fumbles with the button, trying to get another message across to him without using her words. 

Again, being the fucking saint that he is, Aang releases her breast with a pop and pulls back to look at her. She is sure she looks wrecked; sitting on his kitchen counter topless, panting, and quivering with need, there's no telling how wrecked she looks. 

"Fuck, Toph," his hand comes to cup her cheek, his wrist resting against her collarbone, "If only you could see yourself right now," he presses back up against her, leaning his forehead against hers. "You have no idea how beautiful-"

She cuts off whatever it is he is about to say by lifting her chin and pressing her lips against his. The kiss starts off slow, but when his tongue slips into her mouth and brushes against hers. But, when his hips roll against hers, it's like the temperature of the air goes up by ten degrees. 

Aang's hands go down to the button on her shorts and pop it open and slowly slide down the zipper. Toph could practically cry with the relief of finally feeling them come off. He hooks his fingers in the waistband of both her shorts and panties and pulls them off all in one go. 

She lifts her hips, trying to help as much as she can, but she's so fucking desperate. She's sure that she's creating more problems than she's helping because their heads bump together in a painful crash that leaves both of them rubbing their foreheads and giggling. Grabbing a hand to his cheek, she pulls him in again for a kiss. She continues to attempt to kick her shorts off the rest of the way but she feels them get caught on her heel, but she can't exactly bring herself to care. Especially when she feels his fingers beginning to creep along her hip and gently brush against her center. 

She lets out a whimper at the same time Aang lets out a groan, "Fuck, T., you're so wet. How are you already this wet?" He pulls away from her, and Top is about to open her mouth to protest when she feels his hand cupping her ankle, pulling at her shorts where they got caught on her heels.

Taking in a deep shaky breath, Toph presses her head back against the cabinet and lets her eyes flutter closed at the feeling of his hands skimming up her legs and pushing her knees apart. She hears him take in a breath and can feel his exhale on the inside of her thighs. 

A broken moan tears through her throat when he drags a finger through her folds gathering her juices onto his finger. He spreads her legs further apart and she just barely feels his tongue on her when the front door crashes open. 

Toph whips her head towards the sound, her eyes wide. Did they fucking forget to lock it? To deadbolt it?

"Oh my god! Oh my fucking god! My eyes, oh my god!" She hears Sokka scream.

"Hey, guys," comes Zuko's nonchalant voice. 

She feels Aang rip himself away from her and tries to stand in front of her as much as he can when she is up on the counter. 

"Your bedroom is literally 6 feet away from where you're standing! How the fuck-" Toph hears a smack and some cussing from Sokka.

"Sorry, guys. We'll leave you to it," Zuko says good-naturedly. 

"Better fucking sanitize the counter-" she hears another slap, "Ow! Zuko what the fuck?!" their voices disappearing down the hall, and then the tale-tell sound of a door shutting.

~~~

Aang drops her down onto his bed and moves away from her to close the door to his bedroom. "Fucking lock it. I don't think I can handle another interruption." Laughing, he twists the lock and even tries the door to make sure it's locked fully. 

He moves back towards the bed and she feels it dip when he places a knee onto it as he starts to crawl over her. Laying her head back onto the pillows, she feels Aang wrap his arms around her thighs as he settles himself between them after taking off her heels. 

Toph sucks in a shaky breath as she waits to feel his mouth on her. It feels like forever has passed before his tongue barely presses against her in a kitten lick. Arching up off the bed, she reaches down and threads her fingers through his hair, pulling at it, trying to actually get him closer, to use some kind of pressure. 

She feels more than hears him laugh, but the next pass with his tongue is firmer and actually spreads her lips and grazes her clit. He does this again before moving his hand to gently hold her folds apart so he can have easy access to her clit. Wrapping his lips around the little bud, he sucks gently causing Toph to cry out. 

"Fuck, Aang. Fuck, please, I need-"

"What?" he pulls away just barely. When he speaks, his lips still brush against her. "What do you need?"

"I don't know, I just- Please," she begs. Toph has never been the type to beg, has never needed to since she was always the dominant one in the bedroom, but Aang has her wound so tight, she can't form a complete thought on what she needs. The teasing that has been going on since they left the club however long ago has put her so close to the edge. She knows it's not going to take much to push her over the edge. 

Releasing one of her thighs, he rubs his fingers through her folds, gathering her wetness so it's a slick slide when he presses into her slowly. 

Toph's hips shift downwards towards him, and she moans, "God, yes. Yes, just like that." She reaches down and grabs a hold of his wrist, pushing his fingers in further. He kisses her wrist and she releases him, allowing him to take over again. 

Aang leans in and licks from her entrance up to her clit, feeling the way she shakes as he begins to pump his fingers. 

Her legs try to close around his head as his fingers begin to pick up speed, but he shoulders them open so that he has full access to her. The slick wet sound of his fingers sliding in and out of her mixed with the wet smack of his tongue and lips working her clit sounds throughout the room. 

Toph is rocking her hips against his face and chanting his name, urging him to go faster. "Please, Aang. I'm so fucking close. I'm so close."

Adding another finger, he shifts on his arm so that he is able to pump into her faster. HE curls his fingers at every thrust, brushing against that spot inside of her that has her clamping down on his fingers. His tongue continues to make quick work at her clit when he feels Toph's whole body clench. He looks up at her and sees her back arched off the bed, her head pressing down into the pillow, and her mouth open in a silent cry. 

He continues to move his fingers in and out of her, coaxing her through her orgasm. Slowly, she comes down and he gives her a few kitten licks to clean her up a little before pulling his fingers out of her and crawling up the bed. 

She's panting hard, but immediately reaches up and grabs his face, pulling him down for a kiss. Swiping his tongue into her mouth, Aang lets her taste herself and he feels her nails dig into his cheeks a little. The smirk that he presses into her mouth is definitely not something he can help. 

Toph releases his cheeks and starts pulling at his shirt with one hand and then with the other, trying to undo his belt and jeans. "Chill, Toph. We've got all night," he says against her lips. 

"Yeah, but I've been waiting for this since we were in the bathroom at the club," she growls. "Fuck. Me. Now," her voice is hard and even makes Aang pause for a moment before he is quickly undoing his belt and jeans, shimmying awkwardly out of them. When he leans back over her, Toph pulls at his shirt and manages to get it caught on his head. Both of them laugh as they continue to pull at it. 

"Jesus, are you desperate or something?" he laughs. 

Once he is free of his shirt, she takes his face back in her hands and brings his forehead down to rest against hers, "Yes, very much so," she breathes. Toph smiles a little shyly but when she lifts her chin searching for his lips, he immediately grants them to her. 

She lifts her hips, trying to get the message across that she wants him inside of her. Her wetness just barely grazes him and his hips jerk automatically, his hard length brushing against her inner thigh, smearing precum on her leg. 

"Fuck, okay. Let me get a condom," he murmurs against her lips and is just about to pull away from her when her knees tighten around his hips, not letting him move. 

"No, I want to feel you. I want to actually feel you."

"But-"

"I have an IUD." Aang searches her face for a moment but those three little contraceptive letters have enough power over him that he is pushing her back into the pillows. 

"Okay. Okay," he takes himself in hand, pumping himself a few times before leaning forward. He rubs the tip of his dick through her slick folds, brushing against her clit and making her hips jump at the contact. Toph groans out his name and wraps one of her legs around his waist, pulling him more towards her. 

He laughs a little and lifts his face to kiss her forehead. His dick prods at her entrance before gently pushing in, and he instantly drops his head so their foreheads are resting against each other. Pushing forward, he lets her hot wet heat surround him and he hearts the most beautiful moan slip through her lips. 

Toph brings her hands up to his hair and threads her fingers through it, pulling him back down for a kiss when he bottoms out. They stay like this for a moment, connected together in the most sensual way. 

Eventually, the little shifts and movements that both of them do create enough of a tease that Aang has to move or he is going to explode. He pulls his hips back until the head is just barely inside of her, and he snaps his hips forward. 

The gasp that leaves Toph makes him jerk his gaze up to her face. Her eyes are closed with her eyebrows raised and her mouth is almost a perfect O shape. 

He does this motion again, snapping his hips forward and she presses her head back into the pillow as a jagged moan sounds from the bottom of her throat. God, she is so beautiful. He leans down and presses his face into her neck, peppering kisses there as he continues to thrust into her. 

Toph starts rocking her hips up to meet him, trying to take him deeper each time their hips come into contact. A thought occurs to him then and he stops, pulling out of her just slightly so he can grab a pillow. When she feels the cool air hit her body where he once was, she opens her mouth to protest but stops when she feels him lift her hips and shove a pillow underneath her. Without hesitation or waiting for her to tell him to do something, he sinks back into her, much deeper than before. 

Toph's hands immediately clutch at his back, her nails digging into the skin so hard, Aang is sure the skin is breaking. He sets a brutal pace, and when he shifts his hips just slightly, Toph practically screams. 

"Fuck, right there, Aang. Right there, do that again," she pleads. 

Aang smirks and aims for that spot with each thrust. Toph buries her face in his shoulder, trying to smother the noises that leave her, but even so, she is really loud. He can feel his release starting to build but before he can say anything to Toph, to warn her, she clenches around him so tight. 

She bites down on his shoulder as her orgasm tears through her. Aang continues to push into her at a brutal pace, helping her through it. The fluttering of her walls around him triggers his own release and just as she is coming down, his climax comes. He fully thrusts into her three more times, milking it for all its worth before he slowly and gradually comes to a stop. 

Both of them are breathing hard, Toph with her face buried in his shoulder and Aang trying to hold himself up over her so he doesn't squish her. Gently, he pulls out of her and he can feel her flinch and her legs automatically close when he is out of the way. 

Dropping down onto his side, his breaths still coming heavy, he looks at Toph and sees that her eyes are still closed and her eyebrows drawn together. He stays like this, watching her for a while. Eventually, she opens her eyes and turns to face him, a smile on her face. 

"How long have you been wanting to do that?" she asks. 

Aang can't help but laugh at the pure delight on her face and he leans over and kisses her. He can feel her smile against him as he gently cups her face and brings her closer to him. 

When they finally break apart, she tucks her head into the crook of his neck and slings a leg over his hips. "Hope you don't mind that I'm staying the night," she whispers. 

"No, I don't mind at all."

~~~

Toph wakes up to warmth at her back and an insistent hardness poking at her ass. She immediately smiles as she remembers that Aang is behind her and that it's his morning wood rising to meet her. She wiggles her hips a little and unconsciously, Aang bucks into her. 

Giggling a little, she turns around in his arms and nuzzles her face into his chest. Hearing a hum rumble in his chest, she looks up at him. "Good morning," he says,  his voice deep with sleep and makes a fire burn in between her legs. 

Dropping her face back to his chest, she bites back a smile and says, "Good morn-" she is cut off by a shriek that is heard from outside his room. 

The pair of them pull back from each other and look towards the door as if it will give them some kind of answer. A moment later, a banging is heard on said door followed by, "Aang, I swear to fuck, if you don't get out here and disinfect this fucking counter!"

[thegoodshit-ficrecs]

But I deserve it (I deserve it all)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54837724

Title: But I deserve it (I deserve it all) Author: Shikoku (No Tumblr Located) Rating: Not Rated Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender Locked/Unlocked

Completed- 1 Chapter Published- March 30, 2024

Additional Tags:                                  

Zuko-centric (Avatar)

Child Abuse

Zuko's Scar (Avatar)

Partially Blind Zuko (Avatar)

Scars

Abusive Ozai (Avatar)

Iroh is a Good Uncle (Avatar)

the abuse is much worse than it is in canon

Sorry Not Sorry

Zuko (Avatar) Needs a Hug

Angst

Angst with a Happy Ending

Zuko Has Issues (Avatar)

no beta we die like jet

Partially Deaf Zuko (Avatar)

Summary:  

By the time he turns 13, Zuko knows how to care for scars better than most people in the Fire Nation army.