#not really i think he gets stuck in tree
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an-au-blog · 1 year ago
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Oh, your love is sunlight
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Happy (late) Valentine's Day (version without text ↓ +description in tags)
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#east blue asylum wing au#zosan#zoro x sanji#zs#first off if its bad quality - it's a huge canvas and it's more pixelated if i try to export the picture than if I screenshot so... :/#I sometimes like assigning songs to different dynamics and or characters I play around with and I've been recently listening to#a lot of Hozier again and I'd like to think that Sunlight is how Zoro sees Sanji - he is Icarus flying to the sun and he is willing to get#burned if only to reach the sunlight - it's a deathtrap... because of course it is... all attachments are but Sanji's love is the death tra#that he welcomes like a moth to a flame because even Icarus felt the bliss and freedom before his wax melted#I haven't depicted it here but Sanji's Hozier song for Zoro would probably be NFWMB because in his eyes Zoro is this untouchable force#that would watch the world go up in flames and when the time Sanji wouldn't mind being a tree just to fuel his fire (im well aware how#cheesy that sounds just bare with me... or better yet listen to the song its really good trust me ok?)#the world starts and ends with him and where they lay#and their shared Hozier song is Francesca because if anything in this au zosan are two lovers stuck in Dante's inferno and sprinting back i#only for the chance to get back to their lover and if that meant going back into hell to look for each other then so be it#there's a part of the song that goes “My life was a storm / Since I was born / How could I fear any hurricane?” which is pretty fitting imo#op#fan art#my art
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tj-crochets · 6 months ago
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I have new neighbors and today they were out in their yard (the youngest kid saw a cool bug) and their little dog was offleash so I got to meet neighbor dog! Neighbor dog is my new favorite
#the person behind the yarn#neighbor dog is small and has curly fur and tiny little corgi-esque legs#and her tail is so fluffy it drags on the ground when it's down#but she mostly walks around with her tail up and waving like a flag#absolutely adorable! I sat on the ground to greet her (to be less intimidating)#and once I passed the sniff check and she'd greeted my dad and brother too#she came back to me and flopped against my legs for more pets#I am delighted to meet her and hope I will see her again in the near future#and since she's an offleash dog and my yard is not really fenced between my house and my neighbor's#I'm sure I will lol#I do not understand offleash dogs? like. fundamentally don't get it#but also none of my childhood dogs were recall trained#and my main two dogs in childhood were A. a runner. wanted to run more than anything. if the door was open he'd run and run and run#not to get away he just really liked running#and B. my dear Wolfie who had the common sense of a block of concrete#we could not let that dog offleash because he would get lost inside the house#he got stuck up a tree once (only like a foot off the ground)#he was the size of a sort of large rabbit (another reason not to be offleash)#so he was offleash in our fenced in yard but only supervised#either by a human or by our other dog (who was both smart and scary enough to scare away other animals)#okay I guess I had three childhood dogs? I think we got Lilly when I was an adult though#Lilly could not be an offleash dog because she had an EXTREMELY high prey drive. she was a hunting dog#she was also Wolfie's bodyguard
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waroferas · 1 year ago
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tp link’s childhood makes me so emo to think about tbqh
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the-witchhunter · 6 months ago
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I really think we don’t play into the comedy of various folk traditions of dealing with ghosts actually working on Danny Phantom ghosts/Danny
The Fentons paint their home Haint Blue and suddenly Danny has a hard time finding his way home
Danny unable to cross running water and just suddenly ejected from the GAV as they Drive over a bridge
Amity Parkers driving the box ghost away from the Nasty Burger by throwing salt packets at him
Folks hanging up bottles in a tree and Sam having to let Danny out every time he gets stuck in one because he got too close in ghost form
The juxtaposition of the doctors Fenton being like “we can shoot them!” And everyone else just getting a box of kosher salt from the grocery store and it somehow being just as effective
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maybanksprincess · 4 months ago
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satisfy you
warnings: 18+, smut, cheating, p in v sex, pet names, kissing, squirting, drinking.
summary: reader is dating rafe, and he isnt satisfying her needs, jj offers to help.
pairings: nice!kook!reader x pogue!jj
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you attended this big bonfire that everyone went to every single year in the outer banks.
if you lived in the outerbanks you knew that bonfires were the core place that drama started.
usually you would go to drink one or two beers, have fun, and dance with your friends a little. but this time that wasnt the case.
Rafe had been getting closer with this bartender from the country club, and it was really starting to weigh down on you.
you tried to ignore it at first, but he had started going to the country club a lot more often, more than usual. and he stopped touching you all together.
first he stopped fucking you as often, but then it quickly turned into just no attention or affection from him at all. and it really hurt.
you went to this party to get wasted, and forget about all your problems, even if it was temporary.
you drunk a few beers, and downed a couple shots, now a bit tipsy from the alcohol floating in your system.
you were sitting in the grass, knees pressed up to your chest, back up against a oak tree with a few carvings on the bark of it.
your just staring at everyone partying and having fun, zoning out and just lost in your thoughts.
your snapped out of your thoughts as you see a fit blonde walk in your direction, stopping beside you.
"sup, can i sit?" the blonde asks
"yeah, of course." i look up at him and scoot over, making room.
as he sat next to me in the grass i smelled a mixture of alcohol and weed on him.
"so, what are you doin' alone at a bonfire?" he asks while giving you a once over, admiring the sight of ur curves in that dress.
"jus' trying to get my mind off things, you know?" i look up, finally locking eyes with him.
"yeah? things like what? i bet ur pretty little kook life is awesome." he says as he brings the joint between his fingers to his lips, taking a puff out of it.
"kook life really isnt all that great jay. not as great as you think" you say with a hint of vulnerability behind your words.
"it actually sucks," you continue "all the girls are mean. all they care about is money, and their boyfriends fancy cars. and all the kooks are assholes."
he puffs out the smoke, exhaling and listening to your rambling.
"i just feel like..im stuck in bubble wrap sometimes. i dunno if that makes sense" you put your head down, feeling like you said too much.
he turns so hes sitting in front of you, his face in front of yours.
"y'know its okay to get outta the bubble wrap sometimes..." he says, his eyes trailing to the hint of exposed cleavage from ur dress.
you dont know if it was the alcohol in your system or the way he was looking at you, but damn, he was so hot.
you find yourself staring, and look away, until he uses his index finger to tilt your chin back so your face meets his.
you felt a familiar pooling between your legs, but it wasn't like the pooling that happened when rafe was around.
you barely got turned on by rafe by the way he treated you, literally having to beg him to touch you most of the time. he couldn't commit to one woman, and the better of you knew that. you just couldn't seem to let him go.
i involuntarily clench my thighs, and it doesn't go unnoticed by jj, his eyes dart down to the exposed skin on your thighs.
his cargo shorts start to tighten, as if he wasnt already hard when he first approached.
you and jj start to pass the blunt, and eventually the tension becomes too much, the weed and alcohol is floating in your systems, and you find yourselves leaning into eachother.
your lips eventually meet, and it only escalates from there.
at first it was sweet and slow, but then it quickly got hot and heavy, your tongues tangling together.
you straddle his lap, grinding your clothed core against his bulge that was straining in his shorts. his hands start to grope your ass, as his dick seeks more friction from you.
he groans, and his arms hook under your thighs, he pushes himself off the ground, supporting your weight easily.
he carries you over to the twinkie, all the other pogues are still occupied out at the bonfire partying.
he uses one hand to open the sliding door, and lays you flat on your back on the surface of the backseat. he shuts the car door and he wastes no time in connecting your lips with his again.
in between kisses, he mutters out "'m gonna fuck you so good, ya gonna forget rafe exists."
following his words, he unbuckles his shorts and slides them down his legs, kicking them to the side, along with his boxers.
you look down at his dick and your eyes widen. you've never took dick that big before, fuck you were panicking.
he smirks at your reaction, and he slides your dress down your thighs, and off, tossing it where his boxers were. he lowers his face to angle it down with yours, his arms on either side of your head.
he strokes his hard cock, his tip leaks salty white precum on your thighs. his hands go down to the waistband of your panties and he hooks his fingers into it.
"can i take these off, pretty girl?" he asks, his ocean blue eyes boring into yours.
you nod, breathing getting heavy, the pool between your legs intensifying by the second. you were really about to get fucked by jj maybank.
you almost couldn't believe it, you both came from totally opposite sides, he grew up in the cut and you didnt. it was weird, but in that moment you didnt care.
all you cared about was getting his dick inside of you.
with the fingers that are hooked in ur panties, he slides them down your thighs with. he tosses ur panties and his eyes zero in on your spread pussy.
he groans, his cock jumping at the sight. he spreads your thighs some more, and the sudden feeling of a warm substance hitting your pussy shakes you out of your thoughts.
you look down to see his cock leaking precum onto your clit.
he spreads his precum on your folds with his tip, you both moaning at the situation. he lines his tip with your entrance and he pushes himself in.
as he slowly pushes in, he dips his head down to kiss your neck to soothe the slight pain from the stretch of his thick, girthy, cock.
he whimpers against your neck at the feeling of your tight walls fluttering around his member.
he starts to slowly thrust in and out, before his thrusts become faster and deeper. you grab onto his shoulders as a leverage, even though you weren't going to fall.
as he continues to thrust in and out of your sopping pussy, he speaks, his voice muffled by your neck. "mm what a fuckin' shame. that kook passed up the chance to fuck this pussy?"
you moan at his words, the stretch of his dick, the sound of his voice, the way his hand comes down to rub your clit, its all too much.
you start to see stars as you throw your head back, pussy clamping down on his cock. your moans and his groans fill the twinkie. the car rocking with every thrust, due to however old the junk was.
his tip nudges the spongy spot inside your pussy that makes you squirm, you start to whimper and let out long moans, signaling your close.
jj can tell by the way your clamping down on him, and the way your eyes roll back, that your close. he starts to thrust into you at a relentless speed, rubbing your clit rapidly, meeting your lips in a heated kiss.
you shout into his mouth "fuck jj!"
he smirks against your lips, pulling away for a brief moment to speak, his speed never faltering "cmon baby; tell me i fuck you better than rafe." he breathes out
i moan, tears flowing out of your eyes "fuck yes, so much better!" your eyes roll back again
he feels your nails scratching at his back, desperately trying to hold onto something. "yeah? who do u belong to now, hm?"
"you jayjay.." you barely manage to get out with the tears flowing out of your eyes.
he kisses your forehead gently, still slamming into your pussy. "cmon, give it t'me princess. cum for me baby."
following his words, you feel a unfamiliar gush of liquid come out of your hole. you've never done that before. it feels different but it feels so damn good.
you scream out, continuing to squirt on his cock.
he thrusts a few more times, groaning and moaning as he cums on your tummy, "your mine now. my fuckin' girl."
after he comes down from his high, he pulls his phone out, and snaps a picture with the flash, adding a text to it that says "jus made your girl squirt, looks like shes mine now, kook 😎"
he sends it to rafe, and then he helps u back into ur dress, then puts his shorts back on after.
"y'know i meant what i said, ur mine now." he seals his words with a quick kiss.
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sanguineterrain · 2 months ago
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holiday spirit | jason todd
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Summary: Stuck at a shitty office party for your shitty job on Christmas Eve Eve, you’re at your wit’s end. The last thing you expect is to play vigilante for a night with the Red Hood.
Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!reader 
Word count: 7.2k
Warnings/tags: panic attacks, reader has anxiety, creepy coworkers, office party shenanigans, canon-typical violence, jason being both a menace and a sweetheart, attempts at humor, fake relationship, silliness!
the divider
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You’re grateful for a reason to escape. Someone announces that the lights on the obnoxious eleven-foot Christmas tree are burned out and you’re already on the elevator, volunteering to find spare lights. 
You hate these office parties. They’re just a way to play politics, show off fiancés, and reaffirm cliques. You wanted to skip it all together. But Mr. Emerson, your boss, had insisted that attending tonight’s party was mandatory.
Alma had told you about a hundred times to skip tonight, but Alma’s worked here since the Reagan administration and has too much pull to be fired. You, conversely, have been here eight months, and if you get fired, your next job is going to be as a henchman for a B-list Gotham villain. 
Being painfully ordinary and anxious is a toxic mix. Your doctor still thinks all your worrying is because of your menstrual cycle. He doesn’t believe in work-related stress.
So anyway. You’re just trying to get through tonight. And find some tree lights that work. 
You unlock the spare office where all the holiday junk is stored and turn on the light. 
The motherfucking Red Hood looks at you, one leg dangling outside of the window and one leg inside the office. He unclicks his harness. 
"Oh my God,” you say, hand frozen on the light switch.
Red Hood pulls his leg in from the window and steps into the office. He puts the harness in a duffel bag and roughly zips it, then tosses it unceremoniously onto the floor. 
"Oh my God.”
He glances at you, helmet eyes glowing. "No God here, just me.”
"Oh my God," you say again, near hysterics. "Oh my God, Red Hood."
"Always nice to meet a fan," he says irritably, brushing snow off of his jacket, flashing his holsters. Oh, fuck. That's a lot of guns.
"What, um—" You close your eyes, lick your lips, try to find your sanity. "To what do I—why—are you gonna kill me?”
"The fuck? You think I'd sneak into an office and kill someone in cold blood? What kinda operation you think I'm running?"
Your mouth opens and closes in horror. "Wh–I... I don't—I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you, Mr. Hood."
"Please, Mr. Hood was my father."
He laughs. You taste bile in your throat. 
Hood sobers. "Damn. Tough crowd. Look, sorry to freak you out, but I got shit to do. If you'll just point me to Hershel Emerson's office, I'll be on my merry way."
"That's m-my boss. Are you gonna kill him?" You can’t handle murder tonight. You’ll have a breakdown for sure. 
"Literally, what did I just say?" Hood throws his hands up. "Not one minute ago. I'm not killing anyone!"
"Yet?" you ask weakly, mind inundated with too many mob movies to watch your manners. You know what the Red Hood is all about. Everyone does. 
"No. I'm not killing Emerson. But he is a bad dude, so I gotta take care of business. Actually, I should kill him. He deserves it."
You squeak in horror. He raises a hand.
"But I'm not!" he says gruffly. "Respectfully, get a grip. You live in Gotham."
You swallow. "What're you gonna do to my boss if not kill him?"
Hood shrugs. "Eh, maybe scare him a bit. Mostly get intel to take him down. He's currently sitting on five million dollars of stolen life savings from clients."
You blink. "What?"
"Yup. What I really wanna know is which of his employees are in on it. He didn't do this alone."
Hood takes out a small roll-up pouch of what looks like lockpicking tools. You release your sweaty death grip on the doorknob, causing it to squeak. Hood doesn't look up.
Five million dollars is ringing in your head. That happened here. Where you work. Your boss is even scummier than you thought.
“Is that a lockpicking kit?” you ask.
“Yup. Good eye.”
"This seems... illegal.”
"Well, I won't lie to you, most of what I do is. You won't be implicated though.”
He looks at you. You flinch. Even with the lights on, the Red Hood is scary as shit. 
"Yeah..." he says, shaking his head. "You wouldn’t do well in prison. I can tell."
Your chest hurts. "I don't think anyone does well in prison," you say, eyebrows scrunching. "Have... you been to prison?"
"Only to break out a friend. You ask a lot of questions."
"Sorry. Um, Mr. Red Hood—"
"Ah-ah. Call me Red. Or Hood. No Mister-ing."
"Okay.” You lick your lips, hoping he doesn't go back on his temporary no-kill policy. “Hood, do you think you could come later? After the Christmas party?”
He tilts his head at you. You keep talking. 
“Not that I don't admire what you're doing! Because I think taking down my boss for stealing money is great, eat the rich and all that, but, um, I came up here to get lights to replace the ones that burned out downstairs because that's a normal thing that happens and now you're here, at my job, and I'm freaking out. Oh God, oh my God—”
You grab the wall for stability, feeling like you've been rocking on a boat for hours. Sweat beads on your forehead. This time, you really do feel like you’ll throw up. Throwing up in front of the Red Hood would be humiliating. 
“Look, I got shit to do, okay? I'm sorry you're freaking out but your boss is gonna cash out in a few days and then I lose him and that five million. It's now or never."
You should've just stayed home and baked cookies. Fuck being social! This is what happens when you're social: you meet morally gray vigilantes who force you to be complicit with their crimes.
Your cheeks feel wet. Are you crying? Maybe it’s sweat. 
Hood points to the hallway. "Is there a camera outside?"
"Y-yeah.” Your voice is weak. “I think I’m having a heart attack. Can you call security on your way out?"
“Does your left arm hurt?”
“No, but—”
“Are your limbs stiffening?”
“No, but—”
“You’re not having a heart attack. Your speech is fine.”
Hood takes out a few more things from the duffel, then kicks it under a desk with his foot. You wheeze and grab onto the doorknob again. 
It’s quiet for a second. Then— 
“Shit. You're having a panic attack,” Hood says.
"Mm, probably," you say, hunched over like an armadillo. Fuck your stupid doctor. 
There's silence as you wheeze quietly. Then something small hits your head. You flinch and squeal.
"You don't need to throw things at me!" you say, beyond defeated, near tears.
"No, I wasn't—sorry. It's a Warhead. I have one when I'm feeling… not my best. They're s’posed to help occupy your other senses so the panic disappears."
You stare at the candy, confused and suspicious at once. "Is it spiked?"
"Again, what sorta operation do you think I'm running? It's not drugs. Look." Hood unwraps a Warhead and sticks it in his mouth underneath his helmet. You hear him suck on it. "Eesh, that's sour. Okay? No drugs."
So you take the candy from the floor, unwrap it, and pop it into your mouth. The sour taste immediately overwhelms you. It's like your brain resets. You pant through the sour.
"Ough," you say, face scrunching from the taste.
"Yeah, right? Life changing hack."
You suck on the candy desperately and close your eyes, trying to find your breath. 
“It’s okay,” Hood says, stilted and awkward. “Just, uh, focus on your breathing. Exhale longer than you inhale. Breathe through your nose.”
It takes another few minutes, but the feeling passes. Your chest lightens. It’s the quickest you’ve ever recovered from a panic attack. 
“I was just kidding about the prison thing,” Hood says. “You’re not gonna go to jail ‘cause of this, I promise.”
Yeah, but what if you lose your job?
You spit the Warhead into a trash can and smack your tongue a bit. “Are you sure you can’t come back tomorrow night?”
“No can do,” Hood says. “Your boss will be gone by then.”
“It's just that I'm really bad with keeping secrets and according to Google, that's how ulcers form and I really can't afford any sick days off, so—"
You yelp as the door suddenly swings open, hitting your shoulder. You spin around.
"Hey," Bill says, squinting at you. "Where have you been?”
"No!" you yell, and turn off the light. 
Bill stares at you, illuminated by the hallway light. “Uh…”
You clear your throat. "Ahem. I'm fine. It's just taking me a moment to sift through all these decorations. Please return to the party.”
You hate Bill. He’s a sleaze and doesn’t do any work. More than once, he’s trapped you by the water cooler in a conversation about his “smokin’” imaginary lawyer girlfriend.
“If you wanted me to come help you, you could've just said so," he says, reaching for the light, way too close. You don’t like his tone either.
"No!" you yell, blocking the light switch with your hands.
"What the hell? Why not?"
"Because—"
There's a creak from the back. You wince. 
Bill immediately whips his head toward the sound. "Is someone here? Hello?"
He reaches for the light. Again, you block him, swatting his hands away.
"Would you stop—is someone here?"
"My boyfriend!" you blurt.
Bill stops, looking at you. "Your boyfriend? You've never mentioned a boyfriend."
"Well, I have one and he's here."
"Okay. Why can't I turn on the light and see him?"
"Because he's... um..."
You spot the red Santa suit out of the corner of your eye. 
Oh, this is a terrible idea.
"He's changing! He's our Santa for the party. Surprise!" You make weak jazz hands.
Bill looks into the dark where you're pretty sure Hood is hiding. You hope, anyway. Otherwise Bill is going to tell everyone that you're making up boyfriends. "Really?"
"Yeah, really," comes Hood's unmodulated, deadpan reply, and you jump. "Don't turn on the light. I'm naked."
"Oh..." Bill looks queasy for a moment. "Uh—" He looks at you and suddenly grins. "Oh, I get it. You two were having fun before going to the party, huh? Didn't know you were such a wildcat."
"That’s disgusting,” you say. “I would never do that in the office.”
Bill wiggles his eyebrows. "Me-ow. Does the Santa thing turn you on?"
"I'm right here, Bill, and naked or not, I'll kick your ass," Hood says.
Bill pales and quickly backs out of the room. "Right. Sorry. Uh, carry on."
He closes the door. You push your back against it and exhale, heart racing.
"Bill is a shithead," Hood says. 
“How… do you know his name?”
“Employee background check,” Hood says mildly. 
"Oh… yeah, he's been written up a bunch of times for inappropriate behavior, but he's close with Emerson, so he never gets fired."
"Want me to kill him for you? Free of charge."
"What? No! Hood—"
"Oh, relax. I was kidding."
"Uh-huh." You turn on the light. Hood has his helmet on, and his voice is modulated again. "What're we gonna do?"
"Well, I'm gonna go make sure Hershel doesn’t fuck off to Bermuda. The lights you wanted are here, by the way."
Hood tosses you a box of multi-colored tree lights. Then he walks toward you. You plaster yourself across the door.
"Wait! You can't leave. I said that my boyfriend is going to be Santa. Bill will tell everyone. They’ll expect you.”
"I appreciate your quick thinking, but that's a hard pass,” Hood says.
"You can't leave now! Bill's gonna tell everyone I'm a liar and they'll think I was up to something worse in here, like snorting coke."
"I mean this gently: I think you should look into anti-anxiety meds. My brother swears by Xanax.”
“My doctor won’t prescribe it to me,” you say glumly. “He thinks my anxiety is made up.”
“Huh. Want me to kill him? I know a better doctor.”
"Well…” You hesitate, then shake your head. “No! No. Hood, please. They’re all gonna expect a Santa. And when I don’t show up with Santa, they’ll remember that I didn’t participate in White Elephant or any of that other office nonsense that I don’t want to waste my money on. I need this job!”
“They’re not gonna fire you for not doing White Elephant,” Hood says. 
“You don’t know them! It’s a popularity contest.”
But Hood is indeed disinterested in the fact that you'll be the office pariah. Probably because he’s never worked in an office. 
Instead, he ushers you aside without a struggle. Then he turns the doorknob.
"Wait! Wait, listen. If you dress as Santa, you'll have access to the party and offices. You won't have to sneak around. And people get really drunk at these. They'll talk. You can figure out who's helping Emerson steal money."
His hand pauses. He looks at you. You look back, wringing your hands.
"You're pretty crafty," he says. 
"...Thanks?”
Hood releases the doorknob. "Alright, fine. I'll do the Santa shtick.”
“You will?”
He tilts his head. “Should I not?”
“No! No, you should. It’ll be a good disguise.”
He hums. “Sure. But we're in this together now, got it? You blow my cover and we both go down."
"Y-yeah, got it."
Hood heaves a gusty sigh. "Next time, I'm sending Roy in to do this shit."
"Who's Roy?"
"Ah." He holds up a finger. "Too many questions."
He makes a beeline for the Santa costume and then looks at you expectantly.
"Yo. Boyfriend or not, you're not watching me change. Guard the door, Mrs. Claus."
"Oh, right. Sorry."
You turn off the light and go into the hall, shutting the door behind you. It's empty, luckily. You rap your fingers on the box of lights, leg jiggling. 
This is insane. You should just tell Hood you can't do this and let him figure out his own plan.
But then... this would make it easier to find Emerson's crime partner. And you're really sick of Bill being a jerk. You don’t want to be called a liar, or get iced out for the rest of your time here because you didn’t bring Santa. Maybe having Hood be your Santa-boyfriend would make people leave you alone. Which is a crazy reason to stick to this plan, but still. You're trying to find the bright side.
And all those people that Emerson stole from... surely, you have a responsibility to help get their money back and bring him to justice, don't you?
The door swings open. You turn around.
“You wear a mask under your helmet?” 
“As a precaution.” He sounds defensive. “Lots of people in my profession do it.” 
You doubt that. “Don’t you think it’ll be weird if Santa has a mask on?” 
He hesitates, evidently debating between protecting his identity and arousing suspicion.
“Fine.” He carefully peels off the mask and tucks it into his pocket. The surrounding skin is slightly pink from irritation. His nose and cheeks are dotted with freckles. 
And wow. The Red Hood has beautiful eyes. So vibrant and clear, like seafoam. And young! How old is he, anyway? He doesn’t look much older than you, if at all. 
His eyes are framed by thick, dark lashes, and it makes sense, Hood being a brunet.
“What?” he snaps, glaring.
“Nice eyes,” you blurt.
His brows furrow. You remember the guns.
“Um, anyway. Should we go?” you squeak out, backing away.
Hood huffs through the beard. It flutters. "We need to have some ground rules."
"Okay."
"First, you should know that I will shoot if there's a physical threat at this party. Two, you're gonna call me Todd at the party. Three, if you try to tell anyone that I'm Red Hood or that I'm taking down Emerson, I will make your life hell. And if you're his partner, you'd better tell me now or I'm gonna be a lot less jolly."
"I'm not!" you say. "I would never do that. And I won't tell anyone you're Red Hood."
"Good. Let's go. Keep your ears open for hints about Emerson's partner."
He takes off in long strides. You hurry to keep up. The Santa costume doesn't slow him down.
"So how did you find out that Emerson's stealing?" you ask.
"Got a tip. You really didn't know he was stealing?"
“I don’t have access to the finances. I work in user interface. Website design.”
"Yeah? That's pretty cool. I got a brother who's into that stuff," Hood says.
"The same one who takes Xanax?”
“Would you believe it?”
You try to picture Red Hood with a regular family. With a brother or a sister or a father. It's hard to imagine.
“How come you don’t take anti-anxiety medication?” you ask. 
“I have Pit Madness Syndrome, and it has a weird chemical reaction with that stuff.”
“Oh.” Subject change. Quickly! "Do you celebrate Christmas?" 
"Not really. I'm not a believer or celebrator of much. You can see what my plans are two days before Christmas."
"Your family doesn't celebrate?"
Hood just grunts, eyes suddenly stormy. You take the hint and stop talking.
The room where the party is isn't particularly special. It's big enough to fit about a hundred people. For all the money the company makes, you'd thought that they could afford to splurge a little and rent an actual hall. Now you know what the profits have been going toward. But the decorations are decently lavish.
"Oh, wait." Hood leans in to speak in your ear. Lightning shoots down your spine. "I don't know your name."
You give it. He repeats it, and you shiver, like your boyfriend just said your name.
"'Kay. Stay in this room. We don't know how much Emerson or his partner knows, but assume they’re willing to do anything to get away with the money."
You nod. “Got it.”
“Hey, it’s Santa!” Bill shouts from across the room. “He made it!”
You smile tightly. “As promised.”
A few people wave. Others cheer. 
“These people really like Christmas, huh?” Hood asks.
“You have no idea,” you say, hyperaware of his hand brushing your back.
“Don’t think I got your name, man,” Bill says as he approaches. He sticks a hand out. “Bill.”
“Todd,” Hood says, taking his hand and shaking. Bill winces at the handshake. You hide a smile.
“Ah, Todd. Right.” Bill looks at you, trying to subtly soothe his hand. “You’ve never mentioned him.”
You shrug. “Never came up.”
“I’m pretty private,” Hood says, putting an arm around your shoulders. “But we’re very much in love. Ain’t that right, baby?”
“Th-that’s right… honey,” you say, face going hot.
“So what do you do for work?” Bill asks. “My girlfriend’s a lawyer.”
You roll your eyes. Hood snorts.
“There’s no way you’re dating anyone. You look like you got dressed in the dark, Billy.”
You cough your laugh into your arm. Bill’s eye twitches.
“Enjoy the party,” he says icily. He glares at you, then stomps away.
“That was amazing, but I think Bill might retaliate,” you say. 
“Don’t worry ‘bout him,” Hood says. “I’ll take care of it.”
You look at him with big eyes. “Hood—”
“Not like that. Just… it’ll be handled. Okay?”
You nod. Maybe it’s insane, but you trust him. “Okay. Want some punch?”
Hood hums. “No alcohol. Thanks.”
You go to the punch bowl, a little relieved to escape Hood’s piercing ocean-eyed stare. He’s intense. Whoever dates him for real is in for a ride. 
Then again, you can’t imagine Hood meeting someone for coffee or dinner. You giggle at the image of him showing up with his guns and helmet. 
“Hey, IT.” A woman in a white sweater you’ve seen maybe once waves at you. “Cool idea, bringing a Santa.”
“Yeah, Emerson’s too cheap to,” the man next to her says. They laugh.
You smile. “Glad you like it.”
You serve yourself two cups of the alcohol-free punch. Then you turn. 
Your smile falls. Across the room is Hood and Tanya Donaldson, resident shit-stirrer. She’s trying to cozy up to him. You sigh and walk over, bracing yourself.
“Hey, baby,” Hood says, practically dragging you into his side. He takes a cup of punch. “Just met Tanya.”
You can guess exactly how he feels about that.
"Oh, is he your boyfriend?" Tanya asks, eyeing Hood like he's a slab of steak. “I had no idea!”
"Uh-huh," you say. "This is Todd."
She wiggles her fingers, grinning. “So how often do you go to the gym, Todd?” She rests a hand on Hood's arm. "I didn't know Santa was so big and broad."
Your gaze drifts to where you're pretty sure Hood has a gun strapped to his ankle, and the temptation does appear, you won't deny.
But you need this job and it's going to be really hard to explain why Santa's armed and dangerous, so you just grit your teeth. Tanya's the worst for this kind of behavior and she doesn't respect you, so bringing your hunky boyfriend is like dangling a bunch of carrots in her face. 
And it’s not like Todd is actually your boyfriend. 
"Are you flirting with me in front of my girlfriend?" Hood asks, prying her hand off of his arm.
"Flirting?" She claps a hand over her mouth, the movement slightly delayed from all the wine. "No, oh my God! I was just saying—"
"That's really pathetic," Hood says. "Don't do that."
He walks away and you follow, leaving a wobbly Tanya on her own. You smile to yourself.
"Thank you for that," you say.
Hood gives you a thumbs up. "I can plant evidence on her and get her fired if you want."
"No, I don't want to feel damned for eternity. Thanks anyway."
"You have a lot of assholes at your job," Hood says. "But you're not one. I admire that.”
You sigh. "They're not all bad. Alma is cool. She keeps me from quitting.”
"And where is she?"
"At home. She's a sixty-two year old accountant who doesn't care about these parties. Her hip aches when it's cold."
"Mm. Maybe you should follow her lead," Hood says.
"But then who would help you with your spycraft, Hood?"
He allows himself a tiny laugh at that. You wonder how often he laughs. If ever.
“Well, suffering Tanya wasn’t in vain. She said this whole party cost twenty grand.”
“So?”
He gestures grandly. “Does this look like it cost twenty grand to put this together?” 
It's true. The alcohol is the most expensive thing here. No food, except for some people that participated in the potluck, but you don't trust anybody's food here. The decorations are old. Not to mention the Red Hood as your Santa. Your boss might have spared a thousand for tonight. No more. 
“So where did all that money go?” you ask. 
Hood snaps his fingers. “Bingo.” 
“That is so shitty. I got a chocolate-covered pretzel as my Christmas bonus,” you say. 
“A bag of ‘em?” He shakes his head. “Pretty cheap.”
“Ha, no. No, I got one big pretzel. In a box. The box cost more than the pretzel, I think.”
His eyes widen. “Jesus. Even I give more than that to my guys.”
“Got any openings?” you ask, half-joking. 
Hood snorts. “Don't think you'd like what we do. Why d’you stay?” 
You shrug. “Nowhere else to go. I have to eat somehow.” 
“Crappy boss, crappy coworkers, no Christmas bonus. Hell, I feel sorry for ya.”
The Red Hood feels sorry for you. Perhaps you've reached a new low. 
He drinks the punch and coughs. “Ahem, wow. Did you make the punch?”
“No, some people mixed it here.”
“Oh, then I'll be honest. Tastes like a flavor that's not found in nature.” He throws his cup away. You trust him and set your still-full cup on a table.
“I won't even mention the potluck,” you say. 
“Yeesh. Can't eat at everyone's house.” 
“That's what I say!” 
He winks at you. You look away, flustered. 
The crazy thing is, you could get used to this. Well, not specifically Red Hood, but having a boyfriend to bring to these functions, who’ll warn you against gross punch and defend you against Tanya. 
And Hood is surprisingly good at this. If you forget the past hour, you can almost pretend that this is just another office party that you happen to be spending with your new boyfriend. 
"Hey, look! It's Santa! Dude, check me out with Santa!"
One of the finance guys who's very drunk—you want to say that his name is Matt—bounds up to you and Hood. Hood tenses, reaching for his hip (gun!) and you touch his elbow, reminding him to relax. He drops his arm. 
Matt reeks of alcohol, the front of his shirt stained with bourbon. He laughs, forehead shiny with sweat.
"Santaaa, hey, Saint Nick, take a pic with me, man!"
Matt throws his arms around Hood. Hood does not like that and shoves him off accordingly. But Matt doesn't seem to notice and holds up his phone, camera facing front. Hood slaps the phone out of his hand.
"No pictures," he says.
You wince. The guy stares and blinks, taking three to five business days to process what just happened.
"What the fuck, man? That was my phone!"
"Sorry. I'm drunk." Hood sighs like he's physically in pain, then leans back and makes drinking motions with his fingers. "Fuckin' wasted! Did you try those rum shots? Lit, dude!"
The guy cheers up, forgetting all about the phone. "Oh, yeah, for sure! I'm gonna go get one right now! Thanks, Santa!"
"You do that!" Hood says cheerily.
As soon as the guy leaves, Hood returns to his resting scary face.
"Wow," you say.
"I know. I threw up in my mouth a little."
You laugh. Hood grins. Then it fades.
"Damn it. We're getting no closer to finding Emerson's partner. I should just interrogate Emerson until he tells me."
Interrogate makes you feel woozy. You're pretty sure you know what Hood's idea of an interrogation is.
"Wait! We just need to lure them out. If they think their money might be in jeopardy, they'll sneak out of the party to go check on it, right?" you ask.
"Potentially, yes. But how do we lure 'em?"
"There's an alert if someone withdraws more than ten thousand dollars from the company. But I don't have access to the accounts," you say.
Hood smiles slowly. "You don't need it. Remember I mentioned my computer whiz brother?"
"Yeah…” You grimace. “This sounds illegal again.”
"Hell yeah it is. He owes me a favor too. Lemme call him."
You two go off to the side while Hood dials.
"Yeah?" comes a voice on the other end. He doesn’t sound at all like Hood, more like a one percenter from the Diamond District. This is Hood’s brother?
"Aliases only. I need you to withdraw fifty grand from Emerson Corp,” Hood says. 
"Why?”
“‘Cause you owe me a favor. Just do it.”
“Zombie breath.”
“Shortass,” Hood says, voice taking on a distinct older brother tone. 
“You’re such an asshole,” the voice says. He yawns. “B’s wondering if you’re coming tomorrow.”
“I’d rather die again,” Hood says. “And you can tell him I said that.”
“The broody emo bullshit is getting old, dude,” the voice says.
You giggle. Hood looks at you sharply. You press your lips together, properly chastened. Sorry, you mouth.
"Who's that?" the voice asks.
"No one," Hood says. "Did you do it?"
"Chill out. I'm getting past their firewall. So who is that?”
“It’s the TV,” Hood says.
“No, it’s not. That was a lady's laugh, IRL. And you wouldn’t lie if it was someone we know…”
“Mind your damn—”
“I’m helping him with a case,” you blurt. 
Hood throws his hand up, glaring at you. It’s silent on the other end of the phone for a solid ten seconds. Then…
“Holy shit,” Hood’s brother says. “You do have a girlfriend. Wait. Hold on. This is wild. You don’t even have a social security number.”
“I do not have a girlfriend!” Hood snaps, drawing the attention of some coworkers. You nudge him. He exhales through his nose.
“I don’t have a girlfriend, you little fucker,” he says, quieter. “She’s telling the truth.”
“Can I ask your girlfriend a question? Respectfully, what were you thinking? You can do so much b—”
“Text me when it’s done,” Hood growls and hangs up.
You look at each other for a moment. 
“You didn't hear any of that,” Hood says. “Got it?”
“Got it.” 
“Good. Let's see who gets scared. He should do it right about…” 
His phone beeps. You look around the room. 
Soon, your culprit reveals himself. Matt!
Holy shit. 
"He didn't want a picture," Hood says slowly. "He was frisking me! Motherfucker."
"But isn't he drunk?" you ask.
"No." Hood sighs in disgust. "How did I miss that? Br—someone I know does that all the time, spilling alcohol on himself so he smells like he's been drinking. God. Oldest trick in the book!"
"Do you think he knows you're the Red Hood?"
"No. But he might suspect something. Let's go.” 
You follow Matt out of the party. He's walking fast. Yeah. Definitely your guy. 
Down the hallway, Matt turns around and makes direct eye contact with you. You panic. 
“Hood!” you whisper. 
“I know,” he says. “Follow my lead.” 
Loudly, he laughs and puts an arm around your waist. “C’mon, baby, no one’ll know.”
And then you're being herded into a janitor’s closet. 
You stumble in, confused and reeling from how easily Hood plays the affectionate boyfriend role. He follows you in, shuts the door, and pulls the chain dangling from the ceiling. The single light bulb turns on. 
You take care to not knock over any cleaning supplies. You don't see the mop on the floor, however, and you trip backwards on the handle. 
Hood's reaction time is impeccable. He jerks forward to catch you, tugging you back on your feet with his hands on your arms. 
“Y’alright?” he asks. 
“Uh-huh,” you say, mildly mortified. “Thanks.”
He lets go. You shift on your feet. 
“How long are we gonna stay here?” you ask. 
Hood checks his phone. “Well, he should've moved on by now. Let's—”
The doorknob jiggles. You look at Hood in fear. His expression is similar. 
“Pretend!” you whisper, and that's all he needs to understand and move. 
You're expecting your arms around Hood, maybe exaggeratedly feeling him up. You are not expecting Hood to hoist you up by the backs of your thighs and press you against the wall. You squeal, arms shooting out to hold onto his neck. Hood's beard ends up in your mouth and you spit it out. 
The door swings open, revealing a very tipsy couple. 
“Oops!” the woman says, grinning. “Sorry. Carry on.”
The guy gives a thumbs-up. “True love.”
You smile awkwardly. Something is pressing into your hip.
“True love,” Hood deadpans. “Rock on.”
As soon as the door closes, you're squirming. 
“What is that?” you hiss. 
“My gun! Oh my God, it's my gun,” Hood says, quickly setting you down. “It's not…”
He trails off and backs away. You stand there, processing what just happened. 
“That wasn’t—”
“I didn’t—”
You both stop. Hood adjusts his beard. 
“You're really strong,” you say, wringing your hands. 
Hood nods. “Sorry about the, uh…”
“Yeah, let's just not talk about this.”
“Yup. Find Matt?” 
“Absolutely.” 
You open the door and peek out. The hallway is empty. Glory be.
“All clear,” you say, and Hood is on your heels as you sneak out. 
“Any ideas on where he'd go?” Hood asks. 
“Matt works in a cubicle like the rest of us. Emerson’s office is on the twelfth floor.” 
“Fine. We'll hit Emerson's office first. More privacy, and maybe they'll both be there. Two birds.”
“Emerson's office is protected by a password lock. He changes it every night,” you say, scurrying to keep up with Hood. 
“That's fine. I got a key right here,” he says, patting his holster.
“Wait! If the lock is tampered with, it sets off an alarm and security will come. You can't shoot it, Hood.”
He stops and sighs. “Why is everything so goddamn complicated? Alright, new plan. I'm gonna get my stuff from where we were and I'll break in the old-fashioned way.” 
Fifteen Minutes Later.
“This seems really unsafe!” you say, watching Hood dangle outside a three story window on a wire. He's attached to a grappling hook but still. Still! 
“Eh, I died once. Didn't stick. Hold the hook.” 
“I am!” As if you'd do anything but. You don't want the Red Hood to become Red Goo. 
Chilly December wind makes your eyes water and your nose cold. Still, you hold on. 
“Almost there!” he says. 
“Hey! What're you doing?” 
You whirl around and close your eyes due to the flashlight shining at them. Even though the lights are on. 
An elderly security guard glares at you. It's a good thing you're not an actual criminal… though after tonight, you're not so sure. 
“Um.” You try to hold onto the hook while hiding it behind your back. “Bird watching?”
The guard turns off the flashlight and tucks it into his belt. He slowly walks to you. 
“If you're doing something illegal, Miss, you're in big trouble.”
Well, this is fantastic. Of course it would be you that gets caught. 
The guard is getting closer. Your grip is sweaty. He peers over your shoulder. You let go of the hook, praying to every spirit out there that Hood is as good as everyone says he is. 
The guard looks around and scratches his head. You shrug, heart in your throat. 
“See?” you say. “Bird watching.”
He frowns at you. “I've got my eye on you.”
“And I commend you for that.” 
“Are you sassing me?” 
Are you? You might be. You've been spending too much time with Hood. 
Hood! You turn and look out the window. You don't see any red goo below, but it's also cold and foggy. Shit. You hurry to the elevators. 
“Okay, happy holidays, bye!”
The elevator doors open. You press twelve and close the door before the guard can consider getting on with you and shooting you a hairy eyeball all the way down. 
You hurry out and run down to Emerson's office. The door has been left ajar, which is good, right?
Bang!
You throw yourself against the wall. Shit. Maybe not. 
Ugh, you told Hood no shooting! Son of a bitch. 
“We're doing this tonight!” That's Emerson's voice. “I don't care if I have to shoot my way out.” 
Shoot? Oh no.
You carefully peek through the crack. Hood is standing with his hands behind his head. His beard has blood in it. Emerson is in front of him, gun to his head. 
Hood catches your eye. He gives you the tiniest head shake. You swallow. 
You can't just leave him there. 
Okay. Think. Emerson's back is to you. You can't see Matt, but you figure he's far enough away to not immediately shoot you. Hopefully. 
Anyway, what's your other option? The feisty relic upstairs? You can't risk any civilians getting hurt. 
Technically you're also a civilian but not tonight. Tonight you might as well be Batman. 
You slowly pull the door open further. You sneak in, then hide behind the secretary's desk.
“Is it done?” Emerson snaps.
That's when you see Matt in the corner on a laptop. 
“It takes time,” Matt says, obviously stressed too. 
“Well, hurry up!” Emerson looks at Hood. “Then we'll dispose of Santa here.”
Hood shrugs. “You can certainly try. Many have. ‘M still here.”
“Lots of bravado for a man in a costume,” Emerson sneers. “What are you, police?”
Hood groans. “As fucking if! I'm not a cop.” 
He hums. “Perhaps not. Otherwise this place would be crawling with them already. But you're alone.”
“How d'you know I'm alone?” Hood asks. 
You're glad he's calm because you're feeling the beginnings of another panic attack. But you can't panic, not now. The adrenaline pulsing through you is the only thing keeping you from going catatonic. 
You have no weapon, no plan. How the hell are you supposed to help Hood?
“You're bluffing,” Emerson says. 
“He has a girlfriend,” Matt says. “Some IT girl. She might come looking for him.”
“Then we'll take care of her too.”
Matt looks uncomfortable but he doesn't say anything. Hood is still cool as a cucumber. 
“She won't look for me. We had a fight. I forgot to buy the candy she likes.”
Candy? Why would—oh!
On the secretary's desk is a glass bowl filled with mini candy canes. You wrap your hands around it. 
“She knows my favorite,” Hood says, locking eyes with you.
You throw the bowl with all your might. Emerson is too slow—Hood grabs the bowl one-handed and swings it, knocking the gun from Emerson's hand. The candy explodes into pieces. Hood swings again, this time into Emerson's head. The bowl cracks. Emerson crumples to the floor. 
“Are you o—”
Bang! Bang! Bang!
In a blink, Hood wraps one arm around your waist and yanks you to the floor, covering your body. You curl into him on instinct. 
“I got you, I got you,” he says, patting your shoulder. “You okay?”
You nod, words not coming right now. You squeeze his hand. Hood seems to understand and he scoots you both behind Emerson’s desk. Then he loads his gun and cocks it.
“Stay here,” he says, then fires six shots. 
“Goddamnit!” Matt yells across the room. “This wasn't the plan! You're not supposed to be here!”  
Hood laughs, which is absolutely terrifying. “Don't talk to me about ruined plans, buddy. I've been waiting all night for an excuse to shoot somebody. Please make my night.” 
Matt fires four more shots. 
“Fuck you, cop!” 
“What the fuck? Fuck you more! I'm not a fucking cop!”
“Maybe it's the way you stand,” you say, teeth chattering from anxiety. 
Hood squeezes your shoulder comfortingly. “I stand like a cop? Gross. I gotta work on that.” 
“You're somebody!” Matt yells. “You're not just some guy, Todd, don't lie to me. You and that chick from IT are in cahoots.”
You huff. “He knows your name but not mine?”
“I’d take it as a compliment.”
Matt fires again. Hood tucks you behind him. 
“He won’t kill anybody,” he says, with way too much confidence, in your opinion. 
“Oh, is that why he's peacefully shooting at us?”
“He's scared, sure. But he can’t kill. Trust me, I know. Hey, Matt!” 
“What?”
Hood stands up. Your eyes bug out of your head. 
“Hood!” you hiss. “Hood!”
He ignores you, of course. 
“You won’t hurt anyone,” Hood says. He starts walking toward Matt. “You're not a killer, Matt.”
And all this time you thought Hood was sort of sane. Nope. 
“I will shoot you!” Matt warns. 
“Aw. You wouldn't shoot Santy Claus, would you?” 
Matt pulls the trigger. You gasp. It clicks. The magazine is empty. 
Hood closes the distance between them and grabs the gun, then elbows Matt in the face. Matt sprawls onto the floor. 
“Yeah, I don't risk my life on human emotion,” Hood says, loud enough so you can hear. “People can be so unpredictable. I will take a chance on a gun that only fires seven rounds, though. For a guy in finance, you're not very good with numbers, Matty.” 
You sigh in relief, slumping against the desk. After tonight, you're retiring. 
“Y'okay over there?” Hood asks. 
“Yeah.”
It's quiet for a bit. Then Hood returns and offers you a hand to help you stand. You do so on shaky limbs. 
He's got a cut on his eyebrow and a bruise on his cheek. You frown. 
“I'm sorry I let go of the hook. I thought—”
“You let go of the hook?”
You stop. “Um. No?” 
Hood squints at you. “Choosing to forgive you for that.” 
“I knew you were inside the office!”
“Yeah, sure.” 
“I'm not the only one taking risks,” you say. “Matt still fired at you.”
“Eh.” Hood shrugs. “He’s a crap shot. And I counted the rounds. I maintain my point. Factually, he could not shoot me.”
“You could've told me the gun was empty,” you say. 
“I wanted you to think I was cool and brave.” 
You laugh. “I already think that.”
Hood looks at you for a moment, like he’s trying to see right down into your soul. Intense. You cross your arms.
“So, um, ready to ditch this party?” you ask. 
“With pleasure.”
“What about them?” you ask, pointing to Matt.
“I have backup arriving soon. Let's get your coat.” 
You get your things while Hood changes back into his usual garb. He meets you at the back exit, the one that leads to an alleyway, Santa suit gone. The party's winding down and most are getting into their cars. You're grateful no one stops to ask where you disappeared to. 
There's police outside, but they're not here for Emerson. It's Bill that's being questioned by Commissioner Gordon. You stop short at the sight. 
“Hood… what did you do?” 
“Hm? Oh! There might have been some discrepancies in Bill's finances and he might have committed fraud to pay off his gambling debts. All circumstantial, though.”
“Please don't tell me you framed my coworker because he's a jerk,” you say. 
“No, but I'm not above that, for the record. I recognized Bill from when I was casing the Iceberg Lounge. That's where he racked up all that debt.”
You nod slowly. “That's how you knew his name.”
“Yup. He was a nobody, so I didn't bother with him. Had I known he was such a menace at work, well…”
You grin. “It's okay. I appreciate it now.” 
Hood nods. The silence is awkward for a few seconds. 
“So—”
“You don't have to keep working here,” he says. “You can leave if you wanna.”
“Hood…”
He puts up a hand. “Hear me out. I have a contact at Wayne Enterprises. I can get you an interview. Hell, I can get you the job.”
“And what would I owe you?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing. Think of it as a thank you for tonight. You didn't have to help me but you did.”
You open and close your mouth. “I don't… I don't know what to say.”
“Don't gotta say a thing,” Hood says quietly. “If anyone deserves a new year, it's you.”
“Oh.” Your throat feels tight suddenly. “Oh, Hood, that's really—that's nice of you.”
“It's been known to happen. Don't spread it around though.”
“But I don't want the job without interviewing!” you say. “I want to get it on my own.”
Hood nods. “Deal.”
You want to hug him but that seems like too much, even with all you’ve done tonight. So you take out a candy cane instead.
“I salvaged one from the bowl,” you say. “Merry Christmas, Hood.”
He takes it, tucking it into his pocket. “Merry Christmas. Need a ride?”
You shake your head. “I'm fine. See you around?”
“Maybe, maybe not. Stay safe, alright?”
“Oh, I will. Will you?”
He laughs. “No promises.” 
Then you blink and he's gone. You shove your hands into your coat pockets. 
In each pocket, there's a handful of Warheads. You smile.
610 notes · View notes
waves-against-a-cliff · 3 months ago
Text
After the End - Post-Apocalypse Omegaverse AU
Summary - They're starting to think maybe this omega isn't so sweet.
Tags - Omegaverse (duh), alpha/beta/omega dynamics, non traditional dynamics, all of the 141 are alphas, you're an omega. Eventual smut, dub-con, knotting, mating press, polyamory, alphas love alphas. 141 x reader, injuries, masterbation
Masterlist
Patreon, Ko-fi and Throne
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Now you were back in your little cabin in the woods. You had even lit a fire and dragged your mattress with its nesting contents into the small living room to get properly cozy. You sighed as you buried your face into the nest and relaxed further into the arrangement of blankets, pillows and dirty laundry.
Despite yourself, your omega whined and paced. She wanted their scent here too. You hadn't smelt them when they were up close because of the cotton up your nose but just that whiff on the wind had begun the beginning of the end.
You whined into the sheets and buried further into them. The idea of one of them surviving the traps sounded better with each passing moment. A feral alpha that was strong enough to withstand your defenses and persistent enough to find you. The thought made your chest warm and small purrs leave you.
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"She has us running in fuckin' circles Cap," Gaz said to Price before he even noticed that he was upside down. "Trap get you?" He asked as if it wasn't obvious.
"Gettin' cheeky are you?" Price shot back and Gaz grinned as he grabbed the knife off the forest floor and walked towards his Captain.
"Nah, just takin' the piss Cap'n," He walked to the rope keeping him upside down and cut it. Price was fine, he was only a few feet off the ground. 
"Do you know where Soap and Ghost are?" Price asked as he put his beanie back on and took the combat knife back from Gaz.
"I found Ghost, he's stuck in a pit. And I don't know- oh speak of the devil and he shall come!" 
Soap emerged from the bushes, his hair singed at the ends and soot on his face. "Damn omega nearly blew me up!" He cursed and Gaz snorted which got him a dirty look. "Awa an bile yer head," Soap huffed and Price chuckled. "Where's LT?"
"In a pit." Price and Gaz responded at the same time. Soap let out an amused huff.
"So how are we gonnae get 'im out?" Asked the Scot and Gaz nodded to the rope.
"Reduce, reuse, recycle right?"
"Always ken ye were some kind o' hippie."
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Ghost looked up into the snowing sky when he heard the rustle of bushes. A deer? A bunny? Maybe it was the omega coming to put a bullet through his head. "Oi, don't fall in too you idiot!" Gaz barked and Ghost laughed silently.
"You still alive in there Ghost?" Gaz asked as he peered his head into the hole.
"Unfortunately," Ghost replied and Gaz rolled his eyes.
"He's fine. Tie the rope to that tree."
After a few minutes the rope was tossed down and Ghost climbed up with a grunt. "My ankle is throbbin'," he grumbled to himself. It wasn't going to stop him or really slow him down significantly but it was a pride thing really. "Let's go get that 'mega."
Words spoken so easily are not actions done with ease.
They should've expected that it wouldn't be easy but some part of them hoped that you hadn't set up more traps. Gaz cursed as he fell into a pit and screamed, "Fuck!"
Price rushed over and his eyes darkened at the sight before him. This pit was not like Ghosts, instead it had sharpened sticks waiting for whoever was unlucky enough to fall in. Ghost pulled Gaz out, "You broken?" Price asked immediately even as he fussed over the puncture wound in Gaz's thigh.
"Negative," Gaz grunted. Ghost looked down at the two of them, a storm brewing in his dark brown eyes. "I'll be fine, just need to patch it up."
Price couldn't help the growl that left him when Gaz tried to stand. "No, you're gonna sit back down and we're gonna make camp."
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You peaked outside as night fell and took in a deep breath then recoiled when you smelt them on the wind. They're closer warned your omega even as heat built up in your abdomen. 
You close the door quickly and wiped away the cold sweat. The near beckoned to you and you went back in, a dull throb from your clit making it harder to relax this time. 
You hissed defiantly and tried to ignore it until it became near painful. You growled to yourself and shoved your hand down your pants, no preamble or work up. Your body wanted an orgasm? You could give it an orgasm.
You were completely soaked, your slick coated your thighs and panties as you circled your puffy clit and bit down on your lower lip at the shocks of pleasure. Your mind wandered to territory where it shouldn't. That pretty one with his slender fingers toying with your clit while the one with a beard lapped at your gushing pussy like it was the fountain of youth.
You hissed out a breath and gyrated your hips against your own hand as you dipped two fingers down and sunk them in with embarrassing ease and a squelch. Your palm applied pressure to your clit as you pumped your fingers in and out. Petting that spot you could hardly reach and your legs tensed up as the pleasure built.
Your hips bucked and small moans left your mouth as you came on your fingers, slick gushed out around them and coated your thighs and soaked your panties. 
It was embarrassing just how quick you came from just those images, the other two weren't even in it but you refused to think about it. Your body hummed, the small waves of pleasure bringing you down into a cozy sleep.
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roosterforme · 2 months ago
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You're on the Naughty List, Rooster | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley knows no limits when spoiling his family, especially for his daughter's first Christmas. When he's down to the wire getting everything ready, he lands himself on the naughty list. He'll do whatever it takes to fix things, including calling on one of Santa's helpers for backup.
Warnings: Fluff, adult language, smut, oral sex
Length: 3000 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This is a The Younger Kind one-shot, but it can be read alone! Check out my masterlist for more!
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"What is this?" you asked, holding up a receipt that trailed from your outstretched hand all the way to the floor. "Because I know you didn't spend eight hundred dollars on toys on your way home from work today."
"Uh," Bradley replied, brow puckered. He looked up from his spot on the living room floor next to the Christmas tree where he was putting batteries into a remote control dinosaur. "It's, uh.... well, yeah, I did stop for a few more toys on the way home, but I only spent like seven hundred and sixty bucks..."
"Daddy!" you gasped. "Noah and Noelle already have way too much stuff! And we agreed to put money aside to go to Disney World next summer!"
Bradley rolled his eyes and waved his hand casually in the air. "Don't worry about that. This is Noelle's first Christmas, and I really wanted to spoil her."
You shook your head, balled up the receipt, and threw it at his head. But you were smiling. "Where are these toys?"
"In the Bronco," he muttered. "I was going to sneak them under the tree after you went to bed and hope you didn't notice that I got a few more things."
You deadpanned. "You don't know how to wrap gifts. They would have stuck out like a sore thumb," you muttered, sliding your feet into your slippers and pulling on Bradley's discarded sweatshirt. 
Without another word, you slipped out into the crisp, cool night to retrieve everything. To your dismay, it took you several trips back to the living room before you got all of it.
"You are in so much trouble," you warned, pulling his sweatshirt off and crawling across the floor toward your husband. "You're on the naughty list."
"I'm not," he whispered. "I've been really good all year."
You pointed to the Elf on the Shelf which was perched on the windowsill next to the front door. "That's not what Skittles Junior told Santa. I saw the note he sent to the North Pole. Everyone was on the nice list except for you."
"Including Skittles Senior?" he asked, pulling you close until you were sitting halfway on his lap. The Yorkshire Terrier looked up from her napping spot under the Christmas tree, annoyed that they kept saying her name without offering a treat.
"Especially Skittles Senior," you confirmed.
Bradley wrapped his hands around your waist and whispered, "What if I bought my way onto the nice list?"
"How?" you asked, chin jutting into the air, playfully haughty.
Bradley leaned in, pressing his lips to the side of your neck. You had the softest skin, and he let himself indulge in some kisses before saying, "Maybe I already booked the trip to Disney World."
You gasped softly. "Well, this is an interesting turn of events. Did you pick a nice hotel?"
"For my family? The nicest."
"And we get to go for a week?"
"A full seven days, Princess," he rasped, brown eyes reflecting the lights on the tree as you tipped his head back to examine his face.
"Let me check with the Elf," you whispered with a wink. You turned toward the window and asked, "Hey, Skittles Junior? You think we can let the old man slide this year? He wasn't too bad."
But Bradley was already easing you onto your back, right next to the snag in the area rug, while you laughed. "I know for a fact you're on the nice list. You're so nice, in fact, I'll let you have one of your presents early," he murmured. You bit your lip as he started to tug your pajama pants over your hips. "This is something I definitely wouldn't be able to figure out how to wrap." He kissed below your belly button, tossing your pants on top of his hoodie. "But I know it's something you like."
The tip of his nose tickled the waistband of your underwear before he started to pull them down as well. Then he kissed his way along your thigh, mustache prickling you as you shivered, pussy completely bare for him. "Daddy," you moaned softly, fingers grabbing at the rug while he held tight to your thigh and dragged his index finger along your slit.
His face was handsome in the glow from the multi-colored lights, gaze fixed on where he was stroking you. "You're so fucking pretty like this," he grunted, collecting your slick and circling your clit until you whimpered. His lips found the inside of your knee before he set your legs gently on his shoulders. You watched as he licked his finger clean, eyes closed in pleasure. "You taste like a Princess."
"I am a Princess," you replied, eyes flicking to the collection of paper crowns which your son added to the Christmas tree. Then your eyes slid closed as Bradley's tongue traced you from hole to hole before his lips sealed around your clit with just the perfect pressure. 
"Oh, god," you whined as your fingers sunk into his thick hair. His broad shoulders kept you planted against the floor, pussy already fluttering with need as you tried to roll your hips for more.
"Just wait," he whispered, mustache dragging through your wetness. "Don't rush it."
"But it feels good," you whined loudly, tugging him by his hair. "More." 
That's when he lifted you slightly off the rug, his big hand landing on your butt, spanking you one time. You sucked in a deep breath, enjoying the sting as he kissed the inside of your thigh. "I said don't rush it. Want you to make a mess."
"Oh." He was going to make you squirt. That was the gift he was giving you. Even now, you weren't sure how he managed to make it happen every time he put his mind to it, but you weren't mad about it. You tried your best to keep your hips still as he worked you up while his hands made their way to your waist. 
He drew little circles against your skin where you were most self conscious after being pregnant with Noelle, but he never seemed to mind your stretch marks. He just kept at it, licking you up and down your slit with a steady pattern until you were starting to get loud. Then Bradley shoved two fingers inside and circled your clit with his thumb.
"Don't wake up the kids," he scolded playfully, guiding his body over yours while his hand worked at your pussy. The sounds were wet and indecent as he finger fucked you while you licked yourself from his lips and mustache. "God, you're so fucking sweet," he crooned, making you whine for him as he pulled away again.
As soon as his face was back between your legs, his lips took over for his thumb, and you knew you were close. His fingers felt thick and unrelenting, giving you the most delicious friction as he sucked on your clit. When his tongue swiped you, your back arched up from the rug, and your legs started to shake. When his fingers slowed, your vision blurred, creating a colorful mosaic from the Christmas lights as you clenched around him, your body trying to keep his fingers inside.
"Jesus," you gasped, riding his fingers, looking down at his face, lips still all over your pussy. "Daddy!"
You gushed on his face, and he moaned in pleasure, lapping up everything from your ass to your clit as you gasped and giggled, fingers pressed to your lips as you shakily rode out your orgasm.
"Merry Christmas, Princess," he crooned, teasing you with his fingers before removing them. He kissed your chin and your parted lips before letting you suck on his fingers while he sprawled out next to you. Your tongue cleaned him up, enjoying the taste of yourself on his rough hands before you rolled onto your side.
"You want me to wrap all of the extra toys you bought, don't you, Bradley?" you asked, voice shaky as he nodded.
"Yeah. I mean, I thought that was a given."
You laughed, but a few minutes later, you were once again dressed, wrapping presents until well after midnight. Bradley handed you the tape and scissors when you asked for them, and he made both of you mugs of hot cocoa when you needed a break. He told you his plans for the summer vacation to Florida, and you lined up the mound of toys for Noah and Noelle under the tree until you couldn't stop yawning.
"I don't know if I'm more tired from my orgasm or wrapping. Or both?" you asked, kissing him before standing. "But I'm going to bed."
"I'll be in after I put the mugs in the sink, Princess. I love you."
You stood and arched your back in the most alluring way before running your fingers through his hair and kissing his forehead. "Don't forget to move Skittles Junior to the tree for Christmas morning."
"Right. I'll take care of it," he grunted as you walked away, Skittles Senior trailing behind on her way to her puppy bed. 
After straightening up the kitchen, Bradley took the time to clean up a few wrapping paper scraps and adjust some of the ornaments. The tree looked beautiful covered in homemade art projects you and Noah crafted together. The whole house had taken on a new life since he met you, and if you wanted to go to Disney World in the summer, he was going to make it the best trip ever.
"Get over here," he told the Elf on the Shelf, picking him up and searching for a good spot on the tree to hide him. "And I better be on the nice list tomorrow, Skittles Junior. There are a lot of things I want from my wife next year, if you catch my drift, buddy."
But Bradley took a wrong step trying to avoid the huge pile of presents that he bought. His eyes went wide as he reached for the tree, somehow managing to keep it and himself upright while the presents scattered noisily across the floor. He stood there silently, trying to regroup, but then he heard footsteps in the hallway.
"Daddy, did Santa come?"
Bradley turned in time to see Noah peek into the room, his brown eyes wide as he took in the scene before him. Then he burst into tears.
"What's wrong, Bub?" Bradley asked, scrambling around the presents to get to his son.
"You touched the Elf!" he wailed, tears streaking down his cheeks. "Now Skittles Junior won't be magic anymore!"
Bradley tamped down the string of obscenities on the tip of his tongue and winced, throwing the Elf at the tree. "He's okay. See? He's in the tree now. He's just fine."
"No!" his son cried, dropping to the floor where Bradley joined him, trying to keep him quiet so he didn't wake you or Noelle. "He's not magic anymore!"
Fuck. Bradley had been setting up elaborate scenes involving the elf leaving flour footprints in the kitchen and dangling from dental floss in the bathroom for the entire month of December. He knew he wasn't allowed to get caught touching the damn thing.
"I'm pretty sure there's a way to fix his magic," he said, collecting the sobbing child against his chest.
Noah gasped for air as he said, "Someone at school told me the only way to get an elf to be magic again is if Santa sends a helper to sprinkle new magic on him. That's the only way."
Bradley tried to think of a solution to appease Noah, but he was beyond exhausted. "How about I take you back to bed, okay? Santa was clearly already here, but Mommy and Noelle are still asleep. We can open presents in a few hours-"
"No!" Noah protested, looking up at him. "I want to stay here with Skittles Junior until Santa sends a helper to give him back his magic!"
Bradley gritted his teeth. It was four in the morning. He wanted to be curled up next to your warm body in bed. He didn't know how the fuck to fix the elf as it dangled helplessly from the tree. But it was Christmas, and the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint his son.
"Right," Bradley agreed, scooping Noah up and settling onto the couch with him as a plan started to take shape. "How about you and I wait right here? I'm sure it won't take long."
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When you woke up, the bed was cold. You could hear Noelle starting to fuss in her crib, so you went to her room before investigating where your husband could possibly be.
"Hey, Noelle," you whispered as she giggled and reached for you when you walked to her crib. Thankfully she was finally sleeping through the night now after getting a rough start. You kissed her forehead and changed her into a fresh diaper. "Merry Christmas," you told her, tickling her tummy, making her coo. "Let's find Noah and Daddy and make breakfast."
When you walked into the living room, you froze. The wrapped presents were all over the floor, Skittles Junior was dangling from the Christmas tree, and Bradley looked miserably tired with Noah pouting on his lap.
"What's going on?" you asked, and they both turned to look at you and Noelle.
"Daddy touched Skittles Junior, and now he's not magic anymore."
Noah's lips quivered as Bradley rolled his eyes behind him. "It was an accident," Bradley replied through gritted teeth. "And Santa's helper should be here shortly to remedy things."
You looked at him like he had two heads. "What are you talking about? Santa's helper?"
"It's the only way!" Noah insisted, his little fists clenched on his lap. "It's the only way to get his magic back!"
You looked from one pair of brown eyes to the other. "I'm still confused," you whispered, but then there was a knock on the front door. "Who could that possibly be at this hour?"
Noah launched off Bradley's lap. "It has to be Santa's helper!" he exclaimed, racing for the door and opening it. You nearly choked when you saw Natasha standing there, dressed as a life-sized Elf on the Shelf with heavily rouged cheeks and her hair hidden under the pointy hat. She was also wearing oversized glasses which she pushed up her nose as Bradley stood.
"Hi! My name is Pip! I'm an elf!" she squeaked.
"Did Santa send you?" Noah asked hopefully, opening the door wider for her.
"He sure did!" she told him with a smile while you took in the events before you with Noelle in your arms. This had to be the most insane thing you'd ever witnessed as your husband's best friend walked into the living room with a canister of gold glitter in her hand.
"Did he tell you my elf lost his magic?" Noah asked, pointing at the tree.
"Oh, yes," Natasha squeaked. "He said your dad was very, very naughty." She glared at Bradley who just shook his head. "He's going directly onto the naughty list for the next decade or so. Everyone knows you aren't allowed to touch the Elf on the Shelf. Only a complete moron would-"
"Okay, Pip," Bradley barked. "Can you fix the elf or not?"
She adjusted the glasses and opened the glitter. "Of course I can. Just a little sprinkle," she said, dousing the elf and half the tree in gold dust, "and he'll be good as new."
"Yay!" Noah shouted, jumping around the room. "He's magic again! He's magic again!"
You gaped at Bradley and whispered, "Do I even want to know?"
"Absolutely not," he replied, taking Noelle and giving her a kiss while Noah plopped down to open aone of his presents like all was right in the world.
When Natasha turned to quietly sneak back out the front door, you followed her to the porch, closing the door behind you.
"What in the world is happening here? I thought you and Javy were coming over later for dinner?"
She waved her hand in the air in clear annoyance. "I don't know exactly what your husband did to fuck up enough that I got texts in the middle of the night and had to drive an hour each way to the only Walmart that opened at seven in the morning on Christmas to buy this outfit, but he owes me dearly. I'll be back at a normal hour, and you can tell him he better be ready to start kissing my ass."
The elf stormed across the yard to her SUV, tossed her hat in, and drove off. You scratched your head, still confused as you went back inside. Skittles Junior was practically dripping with gold glitter as you passed the tree to find your husband and both of your children were wearing their paper crowns.
"Mommy, put it on," Noah said, handing you the purple one as you took a seat on the area rug with them.
Bradley leaned in and kissed your cheek while Noelle reached for one of the wrapped gifts. "I'll explain everything later," he whispered. "The important thing is the elf is magical again, and everyone is happy."
You shook your head and pursed your lips. "Everyone except you. Ten years on the naughty list? You better hope Pip changes her mind before she gets back to the North Pole."
Bradley groaned and sprawled out on the floor while the kids opened their presents, but there was a smile on his face the whole time.
------------------------------
It feels good to check in with them! I'm so obsessed with elf Natasha, if you couldn't tell. Thanks for reading! Happy holidays! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
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happy74827 · 11 months ago
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He’s Got The Fire
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[Johnny Lawrence x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: To your surprise, Johnny shows up at your window unannounced, but it doesn’t take long to realize it’s not for kicks {GIF Creds: pilvimarja}.
WC: 2076
Category: Slight Hurt/Comfort, Slight Fluff, Introverted(ish)!Reader
Honestly, I’m surprised I haven’t started writing this franchise earlier given how it’s about equal with my love for BTTF
『••✎••』
The sun had already gone down a while ago, the air was crisp, and the sky was starry. It was the perfect evening to watch the moon rise. The wind carried a chill, and the trees were almost bare, swaying in the breeze.
With a sigh, you closed the book you had been reading and stretched your legs, looking out the window of your room. By now, everyone had been asleep for a few hours, and you worked on upcoming assignments to pass the time. But when you had gotten to your last one, you just couldn't be bothered anymore, so you set it aside.
The quietness was nice, and the light from the moon cast a blue-ish glow on everything around you. You were so calm, but there was still something that had you feeling off.
Johnny.
He was never around much lately. It wasn't surprising, but it was disheartening. Ever since that championship loss a while back, he had been training even harder, and when he wasn't training, he was out doing god-knows-what.
You understood how important Cobra Kai was to him, but the fact that he was putting everything else on the back burner really had you worried. He had a tendency to go down the wrong path and not think about the consequences until after the fact. You hoped that wasn't what was happening this time.
Pulling your knees up, you rested your head on them and looked out at the night. There was a full moon, and you wondered if Johnny had noticed. He used to love taking walks at night just to see the moon and look up at the stars.
He had changed so much since then. That fire inside of him burned so brightly that sometimes you wondered if it would burn him, too.
Sitting like that for a while, you lost track of time. It was easy to get distracted and drift away from reality when your mind wandered. It was something you were trying to work on, and you were actually doing pretty well.
Until you heard a pang on your window.
Sitting up, you looked around, wondering if a bird had flown into it, but you saw nothing. Your mind immediately went to a branch falling or something like that, and you were ready to dismiss the strange noise and go back to daydreaming.
But the pang came again, and your heart leaped in your throat. You stood and cautiously moved toward the window. At the same time, a face popped up from below, and you shrieked.
He motioned for you to open the window, along with attempts to hush you. It was a very frantic gesture, and you felt your heart rate rise. You quickly opened the window and stuck your head out.
"Johnny?!" You whispered-yelled, and he was pulling himself up. "What are you doing?"
"Shhh!" He held a finger to his lips and looked behind him, and your eyebrows furrowed.
"Johnny-"
"Do you want the whole neighborhood to know I'm here? Let me in!"
You stared at him for a moment longer before helping him through the window. It didn’t go as smoothly as one would expect, like the movies, but he managed to tumble in. You stood there, arms folded, as he dusted himself off.
You haven’t seen him in so long, and the day you choose to miss him, he shows up out of nowhere. You would’ve called yourself psychic if it weren’t for the fact that Johnny always did the unexpected.
He looked… good, to say the least. The red jacket still fit him perfectly; his blonde hair was combed and fluffy, and his eyes were still focused and alert, even if his body language seemed a little sluggish.
To be honest, Johnny was the most beautiful person you had ever laid eyes on. His sharp jawline, his toned muscles, and that cocky smile of his. The way his eyes crinkled when he laughed and the way he always looked at you like you were the only girl in the world.
For a while, you didn’t understand why he chose to pursue you, of all people. He could have anyone he wanted. You weren't exactly a social butterfly, and you always got nervous and shy in the presence of others.
Johnny was the opposite of you. He was outgoing, and his charisma attracted everyone to him. And the way his voice was so smooth and deep. He could be the most annoying person on the planet, but when he said your name, you would melt.
So when he asked you out, you thought it was some sort of joke. I mean, he was the hottest guy in school. And you were just… you.
But then you realized there was more to him than just the bad boy exterior. He had a sensitive side, and his vulnerability was endearing. His family was… well, a lot. His mom was nice, but she had her fair share of issues, and his stepfather was a piece of work.
It only took one date to realize the Johnny you were accustomed to wasn’t the real him. The real him was like you… except he could kick ass and had some pent-up anger issues.
And yet, here you were.
"Johnny-" You began, but he stepped toward you and wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on the top of your head. You stood stiffly, arms at your sides.
"God, I've missed you."
That was the last thing you expected him to say. You felt your face heat up, your chest warm up, and your shoulders slumped. You melted into his embrace, wrapping your arms around him.
"I've missed you too."
You could feel him grin against the top of your head, and he squeezed you a little tighter. He was so warm, and it made you forget the fact that he was literally climbing through your window at almost midnight.
After a minute or so, he pulled away and held your face in his hands. You were looking into those piercing blue eyes, and you could feel butterflies in your stomach.
"Why are you here?" You asked, your voice a little above a whisper.
He hesitated, and that was the moment you knew something was wrong. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
"I, uh… I needed to see you."
You raised an eyebrow, but you didn't say anything. You were waiting for him to elaborate, but when he didn't, you sighed and grabbed his wrist, pulling him towards the bed. You sat on the edge, and he followed.
"Johnny," You said, turning toward him and placing a hand on his knee. "Talk to me. What's going on?"
"Nothing, I just… wanted to see you."
You didn't say anything. You knew better than that. So you waited.
"Okay, okay," He sighed. "Look, I'm not gonna lie to you, but I can’t tell you why."
"That's reassuring."
"It's just… things are… well, I just needed to get away. It's nothing, I'm fine, don't worry."
You were silent. You didn't really know what to say. There was so much going on, and it was hard for you to believe him when he told you not to worry.
"Is it… Is it Sid? Your mom?"
"Just…” He shook his head and stood, rubbing the back of his neck. He started pacing, and that was when you knew he was really upset. “Just drop it, alright? Everything's fine."
“You ignored me for the past two weeks, Johnny. Something is wrong."
He stopped and glared at you, and you froze. You were taken aback by the expression on his face. He seemed frustrated and almost angry.
The look… you knew it wasn’t directed at you, but you couldn't help but feel a little intimidated. He was always so hot-headed and stubborn, and when his mood shifted, you had a hard time knowing what to do.
He seemed to realize his expression and looked away, rubbing the back of his neck with a sigh.
"Sorry, God, I'm sorry, it's not you. I'm just-" He sighed and plopped back down on the bed next to you, running his hands over his face. "I'm a fucking mess, okay? Just forget I came."
It was weird how, in certain situations, you could completely shift into a different person. You’ve seen it in movies and TV, and it was a cliche. You didn’t think it would ever happen to you.
And yet, the second you heard the words come out of his mouth, you were hit with an overwhelming urge to turn his head towards yours, grab his face in your hands, and kiss him.
So you did.
You couldn’t really tell him why you did it. It just felt like the right thing to do, and it was an impulse. You figured it was the best way to let him know that you were here and he wasn’t alone.
The second your lips met, he was leaning into you, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer. You could feel the passion and desperation behind the kiss, and it took you a moment to match his energy.
He was rough and intense, and he pulled away after a few moments, moving to your neck. You gasped and gripped the collar of his jacket, feeling the heat of his lips on your skin.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder, they say. And it was true. You had missed him more than you had thought. You had almost forgotten how much of a force he was to be reckoned with.
You let out a shaky breath, trying to form words, but failing. Instead, you tugged on his jacket and pulled him towards you, hoping he would get the message.
And he did.
His lips found yours again, and he was pushing you back, holding himself above you with one hand. His other was moving up your shirt, his fingers grazing your stomach, causing goosebumps to rise.
Your breath hitched in your throat as his fingers danced across your ribs. His lips were rough, but they moved with such grace and delicacy it was hard to keep up.
He pulled away for a moment, and you looked up at him, catching your breath. His blonde hair was messy, and his eyes were a little hooded. He looked like a mess, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care.
You reached up and brushed his hair back, giving him a soft smile.
“Is that…” His eyes peered away from you, and you raised an eyebrow. "Do you still have that damn elephant?"
Your eyes followed his, and you spotted the elephant in question. It was a gift Johnny had given you back when things were different. Come to think of it, you weren’t even sure you were together at that point.
"Why wouldn't I?" You asked, and he chuckled. “Ozzy's special."
"You named it? What are you, ten?"
You swatted his arm, and he laughed again. His eyes found yours, and you couldn’t help but smile at him. It felt like old times.
"Don't make fun of him. You gave him to me."
"Yeah, whatever," He rolled his eyes, but his smile remained. "Can't believe you kept him."
"I keep a lot of stuff, Johnny. Especially when they're meaningful."
He was silent for a moment, his eyes still focused on you. The moonlight was shining through the window and casting a shadow on his face.
"I keep a lot of things, too."
Before you could say anything, he was leaning down and kissing you again. You could tell this one was different, more meaningful, like he was pouring his heart and soul into the kiss.
And he was.
He wanted you to know how he felt about you without actually saying it. And although you weren’t really sure what was going on, you had a feeling this was what it was.
The fire inside of him was burning again, but finally, after so long, he realized that he needed to take a breather every now and then. Add some water to the flames.
It was a delicate balance. And although he may be bad at showing his feelings, talking about them, or acknowledging them, you were there to make sure he didn't lose himself in the heat.
And maybe, just maybe, the flame was a little more subdued, and the burn a little less harsh.
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ptergwen · 20 days ago
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can you do a fic where one of the peters (garfield or holland) is making out with the reader and starts to kiss and bite her neck and the little sounds she makes drives him insane
three strikes
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ask box  |  taglist  |  blurb masterlist  |  main masterlist
w/c: 655
warnings: making out, suggestiveness
a/n: i went with tasm!peter hehe, def a fluffier approach to it but so so adorable & i hope you enjoy! keep the reqs coming y'all <3
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winter in the city is magical. everything in the park is covered in a light dusting of snow, all the stone pathways and the trees, couples hand in hand and kids playing. then, there's peter. he's looking up at the sky with his tongue stuck out. he's so focused on trying to catch snowflakes that he doesn't notice you digging your hands into the snow, collecting a handful.
something hits peter's chest; a snowball. he looks across the way, where you're smiling mischievously. he brushes the snow off his jacket, chuckling. you're already making another snowball.
"i dunno, babe. i wouldn't do that if i were you."
despite peter's warning, you aim your arm to throw.
"you're playing with fire, you know that?"
"no, i’m playing with snow."
"oh, that's cute. really cute."
you promptly hit peter with the snowball. he raises a challenging eyebrow, and you know you're in for it. you start to run away, giggling, peter chasing after you. he's quick to catch up. he grabs your waist and pins you against a streetlight, breathing out smoke into the cold air through laughter.
"you wanna try that again?"
peter's gaze darts between your eyes and lips. you bite back a grin.
"kind of."
"what a shame. it'd be strike three."
"what happens after strike three?"
"you wouldn't get this."
peter leans in and kisses you. you loop your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. he hums in content, hands squeezing your waist and lips trailing over to your cheek. he pecks both your cheeks, your nose, just above your lips, peppering kisses all over your face until you're giggling and trying to push him away.
"no, no, no, stop! that tickles!"
peter kisses down your chin and back up, across your forehead, over to your temple. you grin despite yourself, tugging at his locks that are damp with snow.
"i’m serious, pete! stop it!"
"no can do, babe. can't help myself, you're just too damn cute."
peter pecks your cheek a few times, earning a noise of protest.
"so cute i could eat you up."
"nuh uh."
you pull the zipper of your jacket all the way up so it's covering the lower half of your face.
"yeah huh."
peter leaves big, lingering kisses on your forehead, each one punctuated with a mwah. when you realize he's not going to let up, you finally concede. you uncover your face and capture his lips with yours, the only way to make him stop. your nose nudges his, head tilting to look at him.
"are you done?"
"not even close."
peter kisses you again. you kiss him back, smiling into it. he moves your jacket out of the way and continues his kiss attack, this time on your neck. you let him have his fun, enjoying the feeling of his lips on your skin. you squeal when he finds one particular spot and nips at it.
"pete! what're you doing?"
"i told you, eating you up."
he playfully bites at your neck between a series of kisses, arms locked around your waist, drawing the most adorable sounds out of you that he can't get enough of. you thread your fingers through his hair.
"don't forget we're in public, mister."
your tone doesn't match your words, unconvincing, and you're resting your head on the lamp pole so peter has more access. he smirks.
"i know, they're just love bites."
he starts to suck at your neck. the pressure is light, but enough to leave a hickey. you play with his fluffy hair, letting out a noise between a sigh and a moan. you feel the vibrations from peter laughing. you feel something poking at your thigh, too.
"and you're telling me we're in public? whew, i think we'd better get you home."
"you'd like that, wouldn't you?"
peter answers by holding you in place and kissing down your neck, making you breathless from laughter.
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thepigeonhasapen · 4 months ago
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Finding Them When They're Trapped: Olympian Edition (NSFWish)
(I promise I'm working on requests but the horny bug bit ok)
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🩷Aphrodite🩷
"Oh, darling, I'm afraid something simply tragic has happened. One of my suitors has taken advantage of me and left me like this!"
"...In your own bedchamber?"
Aphrodite waves a hand. As well as she's able to with the short chain connecting it to the bedpost anyway. "Sweetheart, it's sex. We don't need to apply logic to it."
"...I see." You sit next to Aphrodite, admiring the way the restraints draw her body into long, smooth curves. She wriggles in her chains, a deliberate enticement. An enticement too is the way she's looking at you, lashes fluttering and eyes locked sweetly upon your own.
"As I was saying..."
"Yes, yes, a horrible man left you tied to a bed and now I'm here to take advantage of that fact?"
"You do catch on quick, my dear."
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⚔️Ares⚔️
Ares does not think this is funny. Unfortunately for Ares it is objectively pretty funny.
He glares at you from the bed, squirming against his chains. "Stop laughing and let me loose."
"I can't believe Aphrodite just left you like this!" You giggle. "I'm pretty sure she just straight up forgot you were here actually."
You can tell Ares is positively fuming about the whole thing. The headboard creaks as he yanks at the cuffs, but all the furniture upon Olympus is far too durable to break that easily. He glares at you once more and then sighs.
"Will you please set me free? I have something I wish to discuss with our dear Aphrodite."
Aphrodite has been so kind as to leave your favorite god naked, and you take advantage of this by resting your hand on his groin. You don't miss the sharp intake of breath when your skin touches his own.
"But it would be such a shame to let you go when I already have you here like this."
"I... be that as it may, I-" Ares's pupils blow wide with lust as you swing onto the bed to straddle his lap.
"Aphrodite isn't going anywhere. And-" You laugh. "Neither are you apparently."
"I suppose... my evening might still be salvageable after all."
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🏹Artemis🏹
How embarrassing... to get caught in one of her own traps. Artemis is never going to live this down if anyone finds out about it. Too late for her, though, you've already found out about it.
"It's not funny! I just forgot where I set it, okay? Now let me down so we can both forget this ever happened."
Perhaps Artemis might be more intimidating if she wasn't blushing so fiercely. Oh yeah, and hanging upside-down by her ankle from a tree branch. That too.
"So if you're the prey, what's hunting you then? A deer? A bunny?"
You didn't think it was possible but Artemis blushes even harder. "Yeah, yeah, just get me down."
"Deal... but in exchange for not telling anyone about this, you'll owe me."
If looks could kill, not only would you be dead, you'd have been vaporized from existence. You start to walk away. "Or I guess you could just wait for somebody else to come by... Hermes, maybe?"
It doesn't take long for Artemis to break. "Okay, okay, deal! Now cut me loose before somebody sees."
As you're helping her down, Artemis shoots you another dirty look. "You’re just lucky I've got a soft spot for you."
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🦉Athena🦉
One of the last places you expect to find Athena is stuck in a hole in the ground, but here you are. She looks up at you, visibly relieved to catch sight of you.
"Hail, Y/N. It would seem the Lady Artemis is leaving her pit traps strewn about the grounds. Again. I really must have a word with her about it. But first I require your assistance."
"Oh yeah? I hope you're not expecting me to carry you out of that hole." Look, Athena's like twice your size. You love her but it's just not gonna happen.
"No, nothing of the sort. If you could run to Hephaestus's workshop and fetch a ladder..."
You sit down at the edge of the hole, elbows resting on your knees. "I might do that. But to be honest, it's kinda hot seeing you be bested every once in a while."
"I was not bested. This was no battle of wills. This was my foolish half-sister being careless once again."
"Still... you being trapped is kinda doing it for me."
Athena sighs. "If you fetch me a ladder, I swear I will let you tie me up to your heart's content. Do we have an arrangement?"
"Done."
And you can't wait to take her up on that.
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❄️Demeter❄️
"I'm going to kill that wretched foster brother of mine. We'll see if he can still throw his precious lightning bolts when he's encased in ice."
You've stumbled across Demeter cuffed to the railing of her balcony. You don't quite know what happened, but Zeus had something to do with it from the sounds of it.
"He told me I ought to get more sun! That it would be good for me! Put a smile on my face! Pah, as if there's anything to smile about upon this blasted mountain."
"Ahem," you say.
Demeter softens. "Ah... my apologies. Of course you give me cause to smile quite often."
"Would it make you smile if you said you looked cute in those cuffs?"
Demeter doesn't look in the slightest bit amused. "It most decidedly would not."
"Ah."
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🍇Dionysus🍇
Dionysus had asked you to meet you in his vineyard but how strange, he doesn't seem to be here. Well, since you're here, you may as well look around. As you wander deeper through the plants, you hear rustling and the sounds of someone struggling.
He looks almost sheepish when you find him, half-buried in foliage with rogue vines twined around his limbs.
"Hey, so uh... there may have been a little... incident. Would you mind maybe lending a hand?"
"Don’t you have control over grapevines?"
"...These are special grapevines, yeah?"
And how kind of the vines to splay him out so beautifully. And to let him take off his cape first. And that all of his usual retinue is conveniently absent.
Dionysus shivers when you run a hand down his muscled chest. "And how exactly am I meant to help you if even a god as powerful as you can't set yourself free?" You stop just above where you're certain he wants you to touch him. "Shall I fetch someone to help?"
Dionysus whines when you remove your hand. "You’re such a damn tease, man! Just have your way with me already."
"I'm a tease? I'm not the one who's tied myself up in hopes of being ravaged."
"If you want we can switch places." Dionysus offers playfully.
"Hmm. Maybe later." You think you're gonna pass this up? Not a chance.
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🪽Hermes🪽
You didn't expect to find the Messenger of the Gods tangled in a bunch of vines, but to be perfectly fair you're pretty sure he didn't intend for you to find him like that either.
"Oh, hi there, boss. I seem to have encountered a spot of trouble here but don't you worry, I'll be out in a jiffy."
He squirms, trying to free himself, but he's really just making the problem worse. Something he soon figures out when he sighs and looks helplessly at you.
"Don’t suppose you'd care to lend a hand?"
"Haha, oh alright," you manage through your giggles. "Hold on just a moment."
"Kinda can't do anything else," he points out.
You wade into the bushes, reaching for the vines that ensnare his wrist. Unfortunately, there's a bit more of them than you bargained for. One catches on your foot and you go tumbling forward, knocking both you and Hermes to the ground.
"Shit, sorry!"
But Hermes doesn't look as bothered as you thought he would. It's probably because your hand has landed squarely on his groin. You hadn't quite been sure if he was blushing before, but now he most certainly is.
He's not quite looking at you as he says, "You know it would really be a shame for you to let an opportunity like this go to waste, you know."
...He makes a valid point.
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🔱Poseidon🔱
"Damn that blasted nephew of mine! I swear when I catch him, I'll- oh hello, dear! Would you mind helping your favorite sea god out of the predicament he's found himself in?"
You laugh. You can't help it; Poseidon looks absolutely ridiculous looking at you upside-down from the floor. Somehow he's ended up wrapped head to toe in chains, his arms pinned behind his back and his legs bound firmly together.
"What happened here?"
"That good for nothing nephew of mine, Hephaestus swore to me that he'd created chains so powerful that nothing could break them! I, of course, had to put such notions to rest. Nothing can overpower the might of the sea! Anyway, I uh..."
"So you let Hephaestus do this to you?"
You've never seen Poseidon look quite so flustered. "I, er... well, we don't need to linger on the past. Why don't you set me free and we can both go out to a nice dinner?"
"Not a chance, sea god." You drop to the floor beside him, greedily taking advantage of a sight you so rarely get to see. The might of Poseidon, bound. And looking quite handsome in his chains if you do say so yourself. "I think I've got a better idea than dinner."
It doesn't take Poseidon but a moment to catch your drift. "Ha! You best take advantage of the moment then because I don't imagine it'll be happening again."
Maybe. Or maybe Hephaestus will let you borrow these chains from time to time...
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⚡️Zeus⚡️
It's funny... this situation that you've found Zeus in almost seems... familiar.
"Curses! Damnit... that blasted, darn Hephaestus... and my foul brother. I shall have both their heads for this, I swear..."
"Whatcha doin'?"
You've never seen the King of the Gods blush before. And certainly not so fiercely. "I um... well, I've run into a spot of bother. And it is entirely the fault of that wretched brother of mine. He insisted that these chains were unbreakable. Naturally, I had to show him the error of his ways. None can stand against the power of the heavens!"
Well, apparently being a cocky, arrogant idiot runs in the family. You drop to a crouch beside him, unable to keep the amused grin off your face. "And how's that working out for you?"
"Yes, yes," he huffs, "I can have a sense of humor like any other. You've all had your laugh. Now let me loose."
You reach down and squeeze between his legs, just enough that Zeus's eyes start to go hazy. He won't get mad at you for the imposition; he thinks far too much with his cock for that. "Oh, but I never get to top."
Zeus looks as if he's already having trouble formulating words. "Well... maybe just this once..."
Once? Not if you can help it.
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achilles-rage · 1 month ago
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What’s Good for You
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summary: when your cat gets stuck up a tree, you have to call 9-1-1, which leads you to meet a very handsome firefighter.
word count: 2.3k
a/n: idk where this came from, i just wrote it in an hour lol. it started with thinking about how humiliating it would be to have to call 911 about your cat stuck up a tree, and this is what happened. enjoy<3
warnings: none, no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader
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“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” you hear from your phone speaker as you pace around your living room. You’re biting at the skin of your thumb as your eyes dart towards your balcony window, and then you look down at the phone, letting out a quiet sigh.
“Hi. My cat is, um,” you begin, clearing your throat as you feel embarrassment filling your belly and making your cheeks heat up, “stuck in a tree.” you finish, mumbling. 
You feel so stupid right now, but you’re not sure what else to do. You can see the small ball of fur from your spot in the living room, a black speck perched on the branch furthest from your balcony, as if taunting you.
“Sorry, what?” the woman asks. You tilt your head back with a louder sigh, closing your eyes as you gather what’s left of your dignity before you speak up.
“My cat is stuck in a tree.” you tell her again, spacing out the words and letting them hang in the air around you while resisting the urge to hang up the phone and go buy a ladder yourself.
“Did you try to get it down?” she asks after a moment, and you can tell she’s trying to hold back a laugh. She’s most definitely smiling, you can hear it in her voice, and if you had gotten this call, you would be too.
“She’s, like, really high up there.” you mutter, walking out onto your balcony and looking down towards the sidewalk below. Well, at least she hasn’t fallen, you think.
“How high?” 
“Well, I live on the sixth floor, and she ran onto the balcony when I opened the door and jumped into the tree beside it. She’s on the other side of the tree now, right out on the far branch, so I can’t reach her.” you explain. It feels like you’re digging a bigger hole for yourself as you speak. She probably thinks you’re stupid, or at the very least, a bad pet owner. 
“I’m so sorry, this is definitely not an emergency, I shouldn’t have called.” you suddenly add on, ready to hang up the phone and never dial the number ever again.
“No, that’s okay, don’t hang up. It’s better you call us instead of climbing the tree yourself and falling. I’m Maddie. We’re gonna get your cat without someone getting hurt. Now, what’s your name?” Maddie tells you, and you stop your hovering thumb from clicking the end call button.
“Okay, okay.” you mumble, then begin to give her all your information.
You watch your cat, and try to call her a few times, and finally, a firetruck appears below your apartment. You haphazardly put on some shoes before going down to the main floor to meet the firefighters, thanking Maddie and hanging up the phone on the way down.
“Is this your cat?” a man with a captain patch on his uniform asks when you approach them. 
You nod, a sheepish smile on your face as you look up to see your cat, now looking extremely small from her high spot in the tree. It’s now that dread fills your belly. You’ve had your cat for years, and she helped you immensely when you first moved to LA and didn’t have any friends, so now that the initial embarrassment has worn off, all you can feel is fear.
“Yeah, I’m so sorry. I opened my balcony for, like, one second to water my plants, and she-” you try to explain, but the captain just shakes his head with a smile on his face, giving you a comforting pat on the back.
“Don’t worry about it. We answer these kinds of calls more than you’d think. We’ll get ‘em down.” he reassures you. 
You give him a small smile, and stand back with him while he tells one of the other men to control the ladder while another goes up.
You don’t miss how attractive the man going up the ladder is; curly hair and bright blue eyes. He looks strong, and kind, but you try not to think about it as you watch him climb the ladder, getting closer to your cat.
You inhale a sharp breath when the firefighter finally gets up to your cat, hearing the quiet, distinct sound of her hiss as he grabs onto her. Your brows knit together in confusion, however, when you see how easily the man is able to come down the ladder a second later; your cat happily perched in his arm.
You take your cat gratefully once he’s down, a grin on your face as you clutch her to your chest and finally make eye contact with the firefighter who saved her, but not after he takes a brief moment to check you out. He’s pulled in by your curves immediately; your soft belly and your thick thighs, but he also thinks you have the nicest smile he’s ever seen.
“Thank you so much for saving her.” you say as you look into his eyes, feeling yourself getting lost in the prettiest blue you think you’ve ever seen. 
You feel underdressed; wearing a pair of leggings and an oversized long sleeve tee for your day off of work. You were planning on lounging around the house, but apparently, the universe had other plans.
Buck’s smile turns to a smirk when he notices the way your face changes, feeling his chest swell with pride. He’s used to being thanked while doing his job, but it’s not as often he’s thanked by someone as pretty as you.
“No problem. She’s sweet.” he replies, reaching out and rubbing the spot between your cat’s ear, causing her to purr loudly and rub against his hand.
“Yeah? She usually hates men.” you tell him with a shrug. 
A small laugh escapes your lips as you both look down and watch your cat being so friendly with him. You’ve only ever seen her like this with you and your close girlfriends.
“Really?” he asks in slight disbelief, eyes raising back up to meet yours. 
You nod, laughing again. It’s like she knows that he’s there to help, or, she can sense that you’re extremely attracted to him and is turning on her charm. You’ve seen it before; she’s extremely good at suckering you into giving her more treats than she needs.
“Yeah, she hated my ex, even after a year of us dating.” you tell him, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as soon as the words fall from your lips. Why did you just bring up your shitty ex-boyfriend to this handsome, muscular stranger?
“Guess she knows what’s good for you. That’s why he’s your ex.” he reasons with a smirk. You begin to nod, looking down as your cat leans into his hand, but when you look up and see the way his lips are quirked up on one side, you realize what he’s also alluding to. That he’s good for you.
“Yeah, I guess so.” you breathe out, suddenly finding it hard to find any words at all. 
You can’t believe he’s flirting with you right now. You know you should be aware of his team surrounding you, no doubt listening to your conversation and able to see the dazed look on your face, but while looking up at him? Everything fades to the back of your mind except for him.
As he’s about to say something else, one of his teammates cuts him off. He’s glad, because he was about to completely ignore his rule about not dating people he meets on calls.
“Come on, lover boy, we gotta go! There’s a structural fire on third!” 
Both of your eyes widen, and you jump slightly in surprise as you look over at the shorter firefighter climbing into the firetruck. You can see the hint of a blush appear on the man’s face as you look back over to him, and he laughs awkwardly, raising a hand and rubbing the back of his neck.
“I’m sorry, I gotta go. It was nice to meet you!” he tells you, taking a second to drag his eyes over your figure one last time before he’s gone, running to the truck.
“Yeah, you too.” you mumble to yourself, watching from your spot on the sidewalk as they drive away, lights and siren blaring.
You walk back up to your apartment in a slight daze, your cat clutched tightly to your chest until you’re finally inside and the front and balcony doors are closed. You throw yourself down onto the couch, unable to stop thinking about the handsome firefighter. 
You run your hand along your cat's back as she jumps up onto your lap and makes herself comfortable, still feeling butterflies swarming in your belly as you think of his kind smile and broad shoulders.
“You did your best, but I think I’m the one that fucked up here.” you tell your cat, laughing softly to yourself. She had acted as the perfect wingman, and you still couldn’t bring yourself to do anything. You know you should’ve asked for his number, or at the very least, his name, but you were far too afraid. 
Maybe he was just being nice? Or maybe he has a girlfriend at home, and he likes to be flirty on the job. 
Either way, you still can’t stop thinking about him, and you desperately wish you could see him again.
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It’s been a few days since Buck had met you, and he can’t help but think about you. He could tell that you were slightly embarrassed about your situation, but it just made you more endearing to him. You had a figure that had his mouth watering, and all your dips and curves on show in your outfit were teasing him as he tried to do his job. 
That’s how he found himself here, in the grocery store closest to your apartment, hoping he’d coincidentally run into you. 
He had to go to a specific store a little further from his house; it being the only one that sells a specific ingredient he needs for dinner tonight, and on his way home, he realized he forgot another ingredient for dinner.
He was a couple blocks from your apartment; it being in between his apartment and the store he needed to go to, so he decided to stop there rather than go to his usual grocery store. 
With his luck, you wouldn’t be there, but he thought he might as well try. It’s a perfect loophole to his work-dating rule.
As he wanders the aisles, not used to the layout of the store, he hears a voice apologize to someone behind him, and his eyes widen. He knows that voice, he heard it the other day, apologizing for calling him to get a cat from a tree.
He grins when he turns and his eyes set on you, now in a sundress, and looking fucking incredible.
“It’s you.” you mutter in disbelief, a smile growing on your face as you look up and see him standing right in front of you, directly in front of what you came to this aisle for.
“It’s you.” he repeats, letting his eyes trail down your figure. Your bare legs have him licking his lips, and when his eyes snap back up to meet yours, you finally tell him your name.
He lets your name roll around in his mouth, feeling the weight of it on his tongue and making him grin. Finally, a name to the pretty face.
“Buck.” he replies, and you repeat it quietly, nodding sheepishly. 
He can tell you want to speak, that the words are on the tip of your tongue, but you seem nervous, so he takes over.
“Do you wanna go out sometime?” 
Your lips part as you look up at him, surprised at his words. You had spent the last few days telling yourself that he probably didn’t want you in an attempt to force yourself to stop thinking about him, and you were beginning to believe it.
“Like, a date?” you ask, your brain now completely empty as you try to keep looking into his eyes. His attention focused solely on you has your heart pounding in your chest, and his gaze has you thinking more about what your hands are doing, and your facial expressions.
“Yes, a date. How about tonight? I can make you dinner.” he clarifies with a quiet chuckle. You’re fucking adorable, and he can’t get enough.
“Okay.” You’re not sure what else to say. It would be embarrassing if you did anything else to show him how excited you actually are on the inside. 
He smiles, nodding as he tilts his head to the side, admiring the way you reach up and fidget with your necklace. When you see that his eyes are trained on your hand, you drop it back down to your side, giving him a sheepish smile.
“I’ll pick you up at 7?” he asks with a smirk, and you nod quickly, trying to hide your surprise and excitement with a small, not-too-excited smile.
“Yeah, that works.” you reply, then take his phone as he hands it over to you. You put in your name and your number with shaky hands, then hand it back, eyes focused on how large his hands are in comparison to yours.The rest of the day after you say goodbye to him goes by quickly, and you wish it wouldn’t. You’re stressed enough for your date tonight, and no outfit you put on seems appropriate. All your worries fade at the end of the night though, when Buck pulls you in for a kiss, mumbling a quick “guess your cat does know what’s good for you” before his lips meet yours passionately.
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nosyrobin · 3 months ago
Note
I wanna see more
inosuke!reader
stuff I’m really enjoying it so far.
but I do wanna ask are you going for a romantic route or are you going with a platonic route?
Thank you for reading this and giving me the time of day! Have a good day/night
||INOSUKE!READER BABBLE SHENANIGANS||
A/N: honestly it’s whatever route you think until someone requests a certain route for inosuke!reader
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Inosuke!reader: *running around and bumping his head into anything*
Dick: *worried* is he…okay?
Tim: *drinking coffee* he’s fine…
Inosuke!reader: *crashes into a tree, making a hole and is now stuck* TAMMY! RICK! HELP MEEEE!!!!
Dick and Tim: *sighs at the same time*
Jason: *peeks out from manor* Did boar head get stuck again!?
Dick: YES!
Tim is now trying to pull the male with the boar head who squirms.
Damian is just inside watching this go down petting Titus: What a moron.
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cameronsprincess · 1 year ago
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— summary: stuck at the chateau with jj— who hates you— during a hurricane turns into a night you definitely didn’t expect.
— pairing: jj maybank x kook princess!reader
— warnings: smut! 18+ hate sex!! dub con, fingering, protected sex, degrading, hair pulling, choking, spanking, some language, jj is a so mean in this. i think that’s all.
↠ note— i literally found this in my notes from back in June lmao. thought i’d finish it and post it.
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❥ the storm— j.m
“i’m not afraid, sare! i just don’t necessarily like storms. i don’t understand why you and john b. couldn’t stay here tonight”
a sigh leaves your lips, fingertips pushing the thin curtains of the room you’re in to the side as you watched the rain pour down, the trees roughly swayed from the strong winds as booms of thunder and cracks of lightning fill your ears.
sarah chuckles. “y/n/n you’re going to be fine! besides jj is there too, why don’t you go hang out with him? the storm should be passed by morning”
you groan, letting the curtains fall from your fingers. quickly turning your body, you make your way toward the bed, tossing yourself back onto the mattress as you roll your eyes.
you’d gladly hang out with jj, but he hated you. you never understood why, but he always acted like he would rather be anywhere else when you were around.
“jj hates me, sare. you know that”
the sound of john b’s voice and sarah’s giggles fill your ears, making you roll your eyes again.
“he doesn’t hate you! he just doesn’t like kooks, so he’s taking his time on warming up to us”
boom!
a loud rumble of thunder causes you to slightly jump. you completely throw the fact that jj hates you out the window and jump up from the bed, slowly making your way toward the door. “okay sare, i’m going to find jj, y’all have a good night”
sarah says her goodbyes and you hang up the phone. you slowly pull open the bedroom door, slipping out of the room in search of jj.
you make your way down the small hallway and into the living room, finding a shirtless jj standing at the screen door of the house as he watched the storm roll in.
you find yourself staring at him longer than you probably should, but you couldn’t help yourself. you had thought jj was attractive from the moment you first laid eyes on him, and how couldn’t you? he was beautifully tanned and toned, his back muscles contracting with every move he made, his messy blond hair framed his face perfectly, his perfect plump, pink lips, and his eyes. his bright, ocean blue eyes could make any girl melt.
but you would never openly admit any of that.
“hey j, can’t sleep either?”
your voice startles him, making him jump and turn to face you. his face quickly turns into a look of annoyance when he sees it’s you, not like he could see anyone else, you’re the only two here.
he turns back toward the door, his focus back on the storm outside. “what do you want?”
you sigh, running a hand through your hair and sitting on the old couch.
“i just couldn’t sleep, it’s really coming down out there huh?”
jj groans, resting his head against the screen door before he pulls back and turns to face you. “are you really trying to make small talk with me right now? you and i don’t get along, so let’s not pretend we do”
you scoff, turning yourself on the couch and sitting on your knees to face jj fully. “you don’t like me, i try to be nice, but you make it so goddamn hard when you act like you can’t stand me!”
jj opens his mouth to speak but quickly shuts it when a loud rumble of thunder shakes the small house. you jump slightly at the sound, your eyes going wide as you frantically look around the small house, cursing yourself for coming here in the first place and getting stuck overnight with jj fucking maybank.
jj notices your tense demeanor, snorting out a laugh as he smirks in amusement. “you’re seriously scared of a hurricane? haven’t you like lived here your entire life?” he pauses, snapping his fingers in mock realization as he laughs darkly. “oh wait, that’s right. kook princess is used to her generators and big fancy house on figure eight, never been stuck in a small house on the cut during one of these i assume?”
you sigh exasperatedly. “why are you such a dick, jj? what the fuck have i ever done to you?”
“i just don’t fucking like you”
you groan, pulling yourself from the couch and making your way into the kitchen. you pull the fridge open harshly, grabbing a beer and popping it open. you bring the rim to your lips, taking a long sip from it before harshly sitting it on the counter. “well good to know. i don’t fucking like you either, you’re a complete asshole who thinks he’s some hot shot because he’s attractive, but newsflash, you’re not special jj”
jj’s head whips in your direction, his eyes narrowed toward you. he takes a few long strides toward you, making your breathing accelerate the closer he got. your bodies were so close together you could feel his breath fanning over your face, and you were sure he could hear your heart rapidly beating in your chest. you swallow thickly, straightening yourself and locking your eyes with his.
you gasp loudly, your hand hitting the counter and knocking your beer bottle onto the floor when he wraps his large hand around your throat, squeezing so tightly your vision began to instantly blur from the tears forming in your eyes.
“and you’re a fucking kook princess who thinks the world revolves around her. you think everyone has to fucking like you, but newsflash. you ain’t special either, princess”
you begin clawing at his hand, trying to pry him off of you, but he was much stronger than you. you whimper as he squeezes tighter, his fingers surely bruising the skin of your neck, an amused smirk on his lips as he watched you struggle under his hold. you tried to get words out, wanting to beg him to let you go, but you couldn’t breathe, much less talk, due to the grip he had on you.
“what was that princess? i didn’t quite catch that”
you dig your fingernails into the back of his hand, leaving half crescent shapes in the skin. you use your free hand to continue pushing at his chest, hot tears flowing down your cheeks as you felt your head becoming fuzzy from the lack of oxygen.
jj finally releases your throat, pushing you back into the fridge when he does. you begin gasping for air, trying to suck as much oxygen as you could back into your lungs. “what the fuck jj? are you fucking psychotic?”
you begin rubbing at your throat, trying to ease the sting from where his hands were. another gasp leaves your mouth when jj is in front of you again, bodies so close you could feel his bulge against your thigh through the thin fabric of his sweatpants. he takes his hands and tightly grabs your arms, turning your bodies and pushing your back into the countertop, more pain shoots through you from the impact.
“you really need a fucking attitude adjustment, princess. and i think i know just how to fix it”
your breath hitches in your throat as jj inches his face closer to you, his lips ghosting over yours. you’d be lying if you said the aggression that spewed from him wasn’t a turn on to you, the ache between your legs and arousal pooling into your panties an obvious indicator that you were in fact turned on.
“what- what’re you gonna do? hmm? i bet you don’t even know how to properly fuck a girl” you spit out, your noses brushing over one another as you keep your eyes locked on his.
this just made jj even angrier, he places his hands back around your throat, smashing his lips against yours roughly. you let out a strangled moan when he slips his tongue into your mouth, using the grip on your throat to pull you further into him.
you melt into him for a moment, your lips moving fervently with his. it’s a mess of teeth and tongues, the feel of jj’s hard cock pressed firmly into your thigh making you wetter, needier. he releases your throat, running his hands up the sides of your face and digging his finger into your hair, tugging at it lightly.
your mind begins racing, your senses finally hitting you. you push jj off, slapping him across the face, his head whips to the side from the impact.
“i’m not sleeping with you, jj”
jj slowly turns his head toward you, bringing a hand up to rub at the spot you’d just slapped. “oh yeah? i’d bet you’ve soaked those pretty little panties of yours, why don’t we find out, hmm?”
you begin rapidly shaking your head, biting down on your bottom lip so hard you taste blood. you try to push past jj’s body, but he has you caged in, your back firmly pressed against the counter top. jj’s hands fly to the waistband of your sleep shorts, pushing a hand down and into your panties, his thick fingers running through your slick folds making your head throw back in pleasure, eyes squeezed shut as you try and stave off your moans.
“what’d i say? you’re fucking soaked, your pussy is begging to be fucked by me”
a small whimper escapes your lips when jj shoves his index finger into your soaked core, thrusting it in and out of you slowly as his dark eyes stay locked on yours. you could see the enjoyment on his face, he enjoyed watching you fall apart for him, he loved the control he had over you in the moment.
and as much as you wanted to push him off of you, tell him to go fuck himself, you were enjoying this too much.
“jj” you breathe out, chest heaving up and down.
he swipes his tongue across his bottom lip, shoving another finger into your cunt. he begins harshly thrusting them in and out of you, his palm firmly pressed against your clit.
you feel your orgasm building inside you, the band threatening to snap when he curves his fingers slightly, hitting that sweet spot deep inside you that no man has ever found.
“i-i’m gonna cum, jj. fuck, s’close!” you whine, grinding yourself against his hand, chasing your high as he pushes his fingers roughly into you. you begin clenching around his fingers, your release threatening to burst out of you.
jj stops, pulling his fingers from inside you and sucking them clean. “mmm, the princess tastes so good, who knew?”
you throw your head up, eyes narrowed toward him in annoyance. “jj what the fuck, why’d you stop?!”
jj chuckles darkly, his hands flying to the back of your hair as he smashes his lips to yours, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. you moan against his lips when you taste yourself on his tongue.
he pulls your lips from his, holding your head back as his dark eyes burn into yours. “bratty little sluts like you don’t get to cum that easily”
you pout. “but-“ you begin but your words die on your tongue, jj’s tight grip on your hair pulling a whine from your lips. he begins pulling you to the couch by your hair, your legs failing to keep up with his long strides causing you to stumble and trip over your own two feet.
jj tosses you onto the couch, a dark laugh falling from his mouth as he watches you stare back at him in frustration.
“take your clothes off, now”
you hesitantly pull your shirt over your head, tossing it onto the floor in front of you before you move to pull your shorts and panties down your legs. you feel your face heating up, feeling a little too exposed in front of jj for your liking.
jj sucks in a sharp breath, his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes scanned the length of your naked body.
he takes a step toward you, making you flinch and scoot yourself further into the couch. you weren’t afraid of him, but after the way he’s been all night, it was out of instinct to flinch away from him.
“don’t be scared, gonna fuck the attitude right out of you, and then we can go back to acting like the other doesn’t exist, got it?”
“o-okay”
jj pulls at the waistband of his sweatpants, shoving them down his legs and kicking them to the side. your eyes go wide when you see his impressive length pressed against his thigh through the fabric of his briefs. you’d always heard rumors about jj’s size, but seeing it for yourself, he looked much bigger than you’d expected.
jj leans forward, gripping at your arms and yanking you upright. he pulls you to your feet, sitting on the couch and patting at his legs, making you cock your head to the side in confusion.
“c’mon, lay across my lap”
you do as he says, laying your body across his lap. you weren’t sure what his plan was, but you were too turned on to care, whatever he had in store for you would be worth it.
slap!
you wince, the feel of jj’s hand landing harshly on your ass making you whimper. “what’re you-“ slap! jj’s hand lands another harsh slap against your ass, tears forming in your eyes from the pain left behind.
“just a little discipline, you need to learn not to talk back all the fucking time, not to have such a fucking attitude”
he lands another harsh slap to the other side of your ass, the burn you felt from his hands making tears flow quickly down your face.
jj begins rubbing at your ass, his large hands kneading at the flesh. you sigh in relief when you think he’s finally done with the spanking, but your mind goes blank when you feel him land yet another rough smack.
he pulls you up, sitting you on the couch and wiping his thumb across your cheek. “stop fucking crying”
you sniffle, nodding your head and wiping your tears away from your face.
you watch as jj makes his way toward john b’s room, returning quickly with a condom in hand. you watch in awe as he slides his briefs down his legs, his large cock springing free and slapping at his stomach.
“stop staring, princess. s’not nice” your eyes meet his, an amused smirk on his face when he sees the look of fear in your eyes. he strokes himself a few times before he rips the foil packet open with his teeth, sliding the condom down his length and stepping toward you. “it’ll fit, don’t worry. and if it doesn’t, i’ll make it fit”
you swallow the lump in your throat, nodding your head as you watch him fall onto the couch. “come sit on my cock, want you to ride me”
you stand from your spot on the couch so quickly you trip over your own feet, stumbling forward, hands pressed firmly into jj’s chest. you throw one leg over his waist, straddling him and gripping his cock in one hand. you begin grinding your hips over his length, a low groan pulled from him.
“stop fucking teasing me, i don’t want to have to hurt you again, but i will”
you nod your head, reaching behind you and grasping his cock in your hands, stroking him softly and lining him up with your entrance. you push the head in slowly, gasping when the thick head pushes into you.
jj groans. “fuuuck”
you fully sink yourself onto him, a loud moan falling past your lips. you dig your fingernails into his shoulders, resting your head in the crook of his neck as you sit still, trying to adjust to his size.
jj grips your hips, sliding you up slowly before pushing you back down harshly. your breath hitches in your throat when the head of his cock hits your g-spot. “fuck, jj, fuck!”
he lands a slap to your ass, a whimper falling from your lips at the action. “move, now” jj demands, both his hands landing harsh slaps to your ass cheeks again.
you quickly do as he says, bouncing yourself up and down his length. the sounds of both your skin slapping together, soft whimpers and loud moans fill the room.
jj runs his hands from your hips to your ass, gripping at the flesh hard, landing smacks as you continue to bounce yourself up and down. “such a good fucking slut, bouncing yourself on my cock, the cock of the man that fucking hates you”
you whimper, jj’s cock pushing into you so deep you could feel it in your stomach. the head of his cock continuously hits at your sweet spot, the band in your belly begins to tighten, your vision blurred with tears. “jj, i’m gonna cum- fuck! i’m gonna cum!”
you hear jj tsk, his hands making purchase on your hips again as he stops your movements. “you don’t fucking cum until i say you can, got it? brats don’t get to cum whenever they fucking want”
you whine, your hand slithering between the two of you, fingers finding your clit instantly. you begin rubbing slow circles around your sensitive bud, trying to chase your orgasm despite jj’s telling you no.
jj’s hand grabs yours, pulling it from your clit and twisting your arm behind your back. “are you disobeying me, princess? i would recommend you not do that”
jj begins pounding his hips up into yours, his cock repeatedly hitting your g-spot, a string of curses and moans falling from your lips at his continued abuse to your cunt.
“such a tight fucking pussy. who knew the girl i fucking hate would feel so fucking good” jj groans, his voice low and raspy.
he begins placing sloppy kisses around your neck, his teeth nipping at the skin. you feel his thrusts getting sloppy, letting you know he was close to his orgasm. “j, can i please cum? please” you whine, tears flowing down your face from the pressure you felt between your thighs.
jj sinks his teeth into your shoulder, his dick stiffening as he bursts into the condom.
“fuckfuck, go on, cum. be a good slut and cum all over me”
his words were all it took to send you flying over the edge, your release bursting from you in body shaking euphoria.
“jj, shit, feels so fucking good jj” you cry out, his hips pounding into you a few more times before he goes limp beneath you.
you rest your head on his shoulder, trying to slow your breathing. jj slaps at your ass, making you lift your head as he lifts you from his lap, tossing you to the side.
jj chuckles, standing from the couch and pulling the condom off of himself, tossing it into the trash. “thanks for that, i’m gonna sleep good now”
he opens the fridge, pulling out a beer and opening it. he takes a long sip as he makes his way back into the living room, grabbing his underwear and sweatpants from the floor and slipping them back on.
“we don’t talk about this, ever. got it? it was just.. hate sex? someone had to fuck the attitude out of you. this changes nothing, you mean nothing to me, and i still hate you”
you sit on the couch, tears beginning to fill your eyes again as you stare at him in shock. you felt dirty, used, hurt. he just fucked you for fun? he still hated you? you were regretting your decision to sleep with him now, even though you never fully said you wanted to, you never said no, never stopped him.
jj laughs darkly at the expression on your face, taking another sip from his beer, his head shaking in amusement as he disappears down the hallway and into john b’s room.
you bring your knees up to your chest, letting silent, choked sobs escape your throat. jj fucking maybank. this changed everything, and now, you fucking hated him as much as he hated you.
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sinner-as-saint · 1 year ago
Text
stuck with you
Bucky x Reader au
Run-through: Alone, cold, and stranded in the middle of a small town on top of a mountain. Not the most ideal situation to be in when the weather starts getting bad. No motels or inns have room for you so the locals suggest you reach out to a man named Bucky Barnes for shelter. Apparently, Bucky is known to always help stranded people, or lost hikers. No matter how weird it feels to drive up to a stranger’s house and ask for help, you have on other choice but to do just that. The plan was simple: stay with the strange, kind man for a couple of days until the snowstorm passes. But then you meet him and you find yourself unable to stick to the plan. 
Themes: age gap (reader is in her twenties, Bucky is in his early forties), strangers-to-lovers ish, smut, slight degrading kink, fluff
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It felt like the start of a horror movie. 
Unknown town, unknown people. You cursed yourself as you walked out of yet another motel who had no room left for you. 
What the hell were you thinking? After uni, you thought travelling the world on your own would help you with learning the right lessons, having the right experiences, and all that before you joined the family business and began working with your parents for the rest of your life. 
Instead of having fun though, here you were. Stuck on top of an icy mountain, in a small town, and nowhere to sleep for the night. With the snowstorm approaching, you had to find shelter quickly. But none of these motels or inns were free. Every hiker, skier, and tourist had already booked ahead of you apparently. 
“Uh, miss?” A voice called from behind you right as you were about to step outside into the cold evening. 
You turned to look and it was the owner of the motel. The same man who had just turned you down because he had no space left to accommodate you. He looked apologetic as he approached you. 
“Hi.” You said, then patted your pockets quickly, “Did I forget anything on the counter?” 
“No.” The man smiled and shook his head. “Look, I’m sorry you can’t stay. But snowstorms in this area can be dangerous and deadly, and you wouldn’t survive the night if you slept in your car.” He pointed at the rented jeep you had parked right outside the motel. “But there’s a man who can help. His name’s Bucky. Bucky Barnes. He often helps out stranded hikers and stuff, and I already called him and asked if he had room and he said yes.” 
The motel owner proceeded to give you details about Bucky and how to get to his house. From what you’d just learnt, Bucky Barnes was a business mogul who preferred seclusion. He was wealthy, and lived alone in his luxurious cabin that, rumour has it, he built himself. He was in his early forties and had people running his businesses for him all over the world. He moved to this small town after living in lavish cities his entire life. He owned acres upon acres of land, so he was also the local lumberjack and spent his time manually taking down trees whenever anyone needed wood. 
“Don’t worry, miss,” The motel owner reassured you, with a kind smile. “Mr. Barnes is a nice guy. Everyone around here knows him. Just follow the directions I gave you and you’ll find his house not too far from here. It’s a wooden behemoth right on the edge of the forest.” 
When you got back in your car, the first thing you did was google the man really quickly. And the headlines, as you scrolled and read them, made your eyes widen a little each time. They were all basically just about what the motel owner already told you. But you needed to make sure it was all real. 
It was. Bucky Barnes was indeed a filthy rich business mogul who chose to come live all the way up here to get away from busy cities and journalists who always followed him around for quotes to put into their articles. 
And then, you began searching for pictures of this man. Your heart skipped a beat upon finding them. Pictures of him at fancy dinner parties, galas, charity events. Pictures of him shaking hands and clinking glasses with famous faces. Pictures of him on business magazine covers.
Pretty blue eyes, handsome face, and a kind smile. You noted the crinkles by his eyes whenever he smiled or laughed in pictures. Whenever he was photographed with a group of people, everyone seemed charmed by him. He seemed tall too. Oh well, safe to say the man was drop dead gorgeous. 
What if he was a serial killer and the people in this town directed victims to his house like he was some kind of twisted leader of this town?
You cringed at the exaggerated thought, shaking your head. 
Usually you weren’t one to trust strangers quickly but it was getting darker, the wind was beginning to howl and the cold was making you shiver even beneath all the layers you were wearing. The snowstorm was expected to last at least three days, so it was either trust a stranger for a few days or die. 
— 
You stopped your car in front of what the motel owner called a ‘wooden behemoth right on the edge of the forest’. And he was right. 
The luxurious log home was situated higher up on the mountain, looking over the small town. Surrounded by towering trees, mainly pine, and the area around the house was foggier than the rest of the town. It would’ve seemed eerie if it weren’t for the warm, golden lights coming from inside the house. 
The house was indeed massive, with intricate carvings on the huge front doors. The roof was covered with dark, polished slate, and what gave the home a more contemporary touch were the large, floor-to-ceiling windows. It looked like the perfect place for someone who sought seclusion and comfort. 
Or a murderer, your brain added. You hissed at the thought, shoving it away as you got out of your jeep. It was beginning to drizzle, the wind howling louder than earlier. You walked up the front porch and knocked on the large doors. 
Before you could check out the porch, you heard loud footsteps approaching. Then, the front door opened. And on the other side stood a handsome man, slightly different from how he looked in the photographs you’d found online, but just as gorgeous. Well, the photographs were all taken from years ago so it made sense that he looked different. Bucky Barnes hadn’t been photographed ever since he moved here, according to the articles, and it was a shame because he was truly a work of art. 
“Hey,” He said with a deep, confident voice. “You must be the girl I just received a call about from the motel.” He opened the door wider. And for a couple of seconds, you didn’t move. 
You were frozen in place. He was… too pretty. That same handsome face as in the photographs, except he had more facial hair now. And longer hair. So long in fact that he had to put it all up in a messy bun on top of his head. A few strands escaped the bun and fell on either side of his face, making him look beautiful in a rugged way. 
You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander for just a second. He was just as tall as you imagine, but slightly more muscular than he seemed in the pictures. The white t-shirt he was wearing clung to him like a second skin, the jeans clung to his thighs in a way that should be illegal. 
You quickly looked up and cleared your throat before you got caught ogling. “Um, hi Mr. Barnes. I’m sorry for–,” 
He cut you off politely, “There’s no need to apologise,” He signalled for you to come in. And as you walked into his home he said, “And please, call me Bucky.” 
You smiled at him as you stood near the entrance, waiting for him to shut the door. When he turned to you, he asked for your name and asked what you were doing here. While you answered, he led you further into the magnificent house. 
If you thought it was beautiful from the outside, the interior was absolutely breathtaking. Spacious, with high ceilings. Most things inside were wooden, except for the rugs and the plush sofas. It was an open concept, and you could see the more farm-style kitchen from the living room area and it was just as pretty as the rest of the house. The more you looked around, the more you fell in love with the interior. Elegant curved staircase which led upstairs, massive fireplace, accents of stone and metals everywhere. It looked like a lot of thought went into building this home. 
“This looks like a dream.” You commented, standing in the middle of the living room and taking it all in. The owner looks like a dream too. You sighed at the sound of your inner thoughts. It was true. 
Bucky smiled, looking proud. “It took some years to build but…” He sighed, “It’s worth it.” 
You smiled at him, noticing the crinkles by his eyes as he smiled. Fuck, this man was beautiful. 
“Give me your keys, I’ll bring your bags in, then I can show you to your room.” He extended his hand out, waiting for you to drop your keys into his palm. 
“Oh.” Your face got all hot when you realised you’d just walked into his home empty handed. You’d forgotten your bags in the jeep. “I can go get it, it’s–,” 
“No, I’ll get it,” He cut you off again, stepped closer and took the keys from your hand. “It’s getting bad out there.” Then he walked away. 
And you shamelessly watched him leave. His back muscles moved and shifted under the tight shirt as he walked and you felt a shiver travel down your spine. Think about how those warm, hard muscles would feel under your fingertips… 
Shit. This man was being kind to you and here you were being a pervert. 
Bucky brought your bags in, all four of them. Carried them through the front door like they weren’t heavy at all. Well, he cuts down trees for fun so maybe he’s used to carrying heavier things. 
He showed you to one of the many guest bedrooms he had. And the room was just as beautiful and perfect as the rest of the home. King-sized bed, large chest drawer, private bathroom which was fully stocked with toiletries. Large windows, and a small balcony which overlooked the dense forest outside. 
“Well then, I’ll leave you to unpack and make yourself comfortable. Dinner will be ready in an hour or so. See you downstairs.” He left with yet another smile which made your heart skip a beat. 
You found yourself making your way downstairs after a long, warm shower. You wanted to unpack after your shower but then the smell of dinner cooking forced you out of the room. You followed the delicious scent of what seemed like pasta sauce, sniffing the air quietly until you made your way into the gorgeous kitchen. With an even more gorgeous man in it. 
“There you are,” Bucky smiled at you as you approached the large kitchen island which was also the dining table. “Everything okay with your room?” He asked, stirring some kind of sauce in a pan before resuming chopping some other thing. He looked so comfortable in his kitchen, it was endearing. 
“Yeah, everything’s good.” You answered, lingering by the kitchen counter awkwardly, “You need help with something?” 
“Sure, if you want.” Bucky nodded and pointed at the other side of the kitchen with his knife, and said, “Can you be a doll and grab us a red wine from the cellar?” 
You froze for a quick second at the sound of ‘doll’. It was sweet, but the way it sounded from his deep, smooth voice… you cleared your throat again before your thoughts got inappropriate, turning around and heading for the cellar because of course he had a wine cellar. 
After grabbing what you hoped was a nice wine, you made your way back to the kitchen and found Bucky plating pasta into two plates. He had a slight frown on his face as he focused on the plates. If there was anything you had noticed about Bucky it was that he was very detail oriented. 
Bucky’s frown disappeared the moment he looked up from the plates and saw you standing there. “Hope you like pasta and cheese.” He winked with a maddeningly handsome smile. 
“I do.” You smiled back, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach as you handed him the wax sealed bottle of wine. For a brief moment, his hand brushed against yours and you could’ve sworn it felt like you’d been electrocuted. 
A strange shiver danced down your spine as you took a seat at the table and watched Bucky break the seal, uncork the bottle and pour it into two glasses before pouring the rest into a large decanter. 
All that wood chopping did him good. The man was muscular in all the right places. But his hands… oh his hands. Large, veiny. Imagine those hands all over– 
“So, tell me about yourself.” He said, taking a seat across from you. “And what are you doing on this icy mountain?” 
The conversation flowed perfectly. You told Bucky about how you were travelling to all the places you wanted to see before you moved back home, and he told you all about his life here. He said he liked the peace and quiet. Even the snowstorms, he grew to love them. 
By the time your plates and the decanter were empty, the two of you were laughing and exchanging life stories like you were old friends catching up. 
“So wait,” You chuckled, “You built this entire place out of spite?” 
Bucky nodded, laughing as well. “Well, I guess. My friend Sam came to visit when I told him I bought some land out here and he said ‘Well what are you gonna do here, Buck? You can’t just build a house in the middle of nowhere and become a lumberjack providing wood to the locals.’ and I thought, ‘Wait, that’s not a bad idea’, then I did exactly what Sam said.” 
You laughed, the wine made everything funnier. Bucky’s cheeks were now pink, his lips stained due to the wine and you couldn’t look away from him. Fuck, he really was gorgeous. He must have changed before dinner because he was no longer wearing that tight white shirt. He was wearing loose, beige coloured loungewear and looked just as mouth-watering. His hair was just as messy, but made him look effortlessly handsome. 
You eye-fucked him so more before realising that he was checking you out too, and neither of you had said a word for the past minute or two. But it wasn’t awkward. His blue eyes stared into yours and you were suddenly too aware of the thick tension in the air. 
The way he licked his lips, the way he toyed with the stem of his wine glass, the way his hand–
Bucky cleared his throat and looked away first. You tried to blink away the tension too but it remained. Then Bucky asked, “So, you have a boyfriend or something waiting for you at home?” He gave you a playful smirk. 
Oh? 
You shook your head, “Nope. What about you? You came all the way here to live in seclusion, are you running from an ex or something?” 
Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. “No, nothing like that.” 
That tension came back again, filling the air like smoke. You couldn’t ignore it. Neither could he, given how he fidgeted in his seat. 
This is wrong. Isn’t it? 
He was being kind enough to offer you shelter and you were being inappropriate. So before you did something you might regret, you said, “It’s late. I should head to bed. I drove all day and…” You trailed off, looking away and avoiding his eyes. 
“Yeah, yeah of course.” He said quickly, getting up from his seat. He went to reach for your plate but you grabbed it first. 
“Oh I’ll load up the dishwasher, don’t worry.” You moved before he could stop you, grabbing your plate and then his. Then the wine glasses and everything else. 
You could feel Bucky’s eyes on you as you carefully arranged everything in the rack before turning it on. You washed your hands, and wiped it on a tea towel while turning to leave but Bucky’s heated stare stopped you. 
There he was, leaning against the kitchen island and looking even more yummy than the dinner he made. You were glad you had the tea towel in your hands otherwise you wouldn’t know what to do. 
Luckily Bucky spoke up first, “If I had known you were coming I would’ve made dessert.” 
Such a simple sentence yet it sounded like he’d whispered some dirty, filthy secret in your ear the way your body came alive. You refrained from clenching your thighs together. His voice was lower, deeper but just as smooth and it was driving you crazy just imagining how this man must sound in bed. 
And now you were jealous of all the people who had had the chance of hearing what he sounded like, moaning and grunting, whispering out of breath… fuck. 
“Uh…” You struggled to find your words, now that the image of him naked in bed wouldn’t leave your head, “That’s alright. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth anyway.” 
You didn’t know when you moved, but you found yourself standing closer to Bucky now. He turned to face you completely and there were mere inches between your bodies. You felt… hot. Maybe it was the wine, but you were almost certain it was because of the way Bucky looked at you. Like he’d devour you if he could. You had sensed tension between you and other people before, but it had never been this strong. 
“Shame,” He muttered under his breath, his hand coming up to gently touch your face. “I happen to like something sweet before bed.” His voice dropped to a whisper. 
All you could focus on was the way he was touching your face. Gently, like you were made of glass. His hand was warm, but rough. You let out a shaky breath as you wondered how his rough hands would feel all over you– 
“Go to bed.” He said in a voice that made you tingle all over. He didn’t let go of your face. His thumb caressing your cheek, and his eyes staring into your soul. 
You blinked, wondering if you misheard. “What?” You asked softly, leaning into his touch subtly, obviously not wanting to move. 
“Go to bed, doll.” He repeated, still not letting go of your face. 
You frowned slightly, “But–,” 
He cut you off by placing a gentle finger over your lips. His eyes couldn’t look away from where his finger touched your mouth. He leaned in a little, then said, “We shouldn’t.” 
“Why not?” You asked, lips brushing against his finger as you spoke. 
He gave you a soft smile and said, “I should be a good host, not seduce you.” 
You shrugged, “Well I’m nice and seduced, now what do we do?” 
He chuckled, leaning in until his nose brushed against the side of your neck. His simple touches were driving you crazy. 
“You know what happens when there’s a snowstorm in this town, doll? It lasts for days,” He whispered, lazily kissing your neck. “And by the time that’s over, the roads are completely blocked. And this is a small town so it takes a while before the roads are functional again.” 
Your heart fluttered, your body felt too hot and yet you shivered. You gently pulled away to look at him. “So you’re saying I’m stuck with you here for days?” You couldn’t help the smirk on your face. 
He caught the hopeful tone in your voice. Bucky nodded. “And if I touch you right now,” He whispered, cupping your face in his large, rough hands, “I’m not sure I’ll let you leave my bed at all for the next coming days.” 
It was risky because as beautiful as he was, you didn’t know Bucky. But you had never wanted someone this much before. This felt like a new kind of longing and need. You didn’t care what was right, ethical, or risky. “Then don’t.” 
That did it. 
Bucky stopped thinking why he shouldn’t and instead pressed his lips to yours, kissing you like he was tasting his favourite dessert. His tongue easing your own as he tasted you leisurely. “We’re sure about this?” He asked, breathlessly. 
“Yes,” You whispered against his mouth, gasping as his hands trailed up and down your body, sliding under your sweater and fondling your breasts. “We are.” 
Bucky smiled into the kiss, then spoke again. “Aren’t I too old for you, doll?” 
You chuckled, your own hands wandering and sliding up and down his muscular back. You wanted nothing more than to just take off that comfy hoodie he was wearing. “Oh, what’s a decade or two?” You murmured. 
Bucky’s hands dropped down to your waist, caressing your skin, fingers threatening to slip past the waistband of your sweatpants. You had to bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning too loudly. The storm was picking up outside and it would surely drown out all your cries, not that there were any neighbours to hear to begin with. 
“Will you be good for me?” He whispered, kissing down your face as his fingers slowly dipped into your sweatpants. One hand held you at the waist while the other inched dangerously close to where you craved him the most. 
His touch, his words, it was all too much. “I’ll be good,” You replied, your hands sliding under his hoodie to finally touch him, exploring and curious. His body was incredible to the touch, hard muscles and warm skin. 
He finally slipped his hand into your underwear, hissing as he found you dripping wet. He chuckled against your skin as he kissed and licked your throat, “How long have you been this wet, doll?” He asked, sounding cocky. 
You gasped when you felt him sliding a finger inside you, gently. “Since you opened the front door.” You answered honestly. 
Bucky laughed, his warm breath tickling your ear. “That long, huh? I’m sorry.” He cooed, “Let me take care of it for you.” 
You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your mouth when you felt him slide another finger inside you, fucking you slowly with both now. Bucky kissed your neck, your face, your mouth. Licking and biting your skin as he pleased while he finger-fucked you until you were right on the edge. 
“Get up here.” He murmured, pulling his fingers and hand away and pointed at the kitchen island. 
You didn’t move immediately. Probably because your brain was all foggy from his kisses and his touch that it took a second for you to register and process his words. 
Bucky smirked and repeated. “Come on. Take your clothes off and get up here.” 
You did as he asked. Taking off your sweater and sweatpants, followed by your underwear and revealing your bare body. Bucky took a second, letting his fingers trail up and down your stomach and chest before he pointed at the island again. 
“Up.” 
You hopped on the edge with a giggle, hissing upon feeling the cold surface against your warm skin. Once sat on the edge, you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer. Bucky smiled as he placed his hands on you again, your arms wrapping around his neck as you stared into his ocean blue eyes. 
“Such a pretty doll,” He whispered, placing his hands on your thighs and spreading them further apart. He looked down at your wet folds, mindlessly dragging a finger up and down your slit, making you shiver all over again. “Now, lie down.” He said. 
You wasted no time. You unwrapped your arms from around him and carefully laid down flat on your back, hissing at the cold again. 
Bucky’s eyes trailed up and down your body, his hands caressing your skin. From your thighs, to your hips, to your breasts where he pinched your nipples, making you cry out again. 
“Can I taste you, doll?” He asked, pulling your legs up to the edge and spreading your thighs as far apart as they would go. The island was high enough where he only had to bend down for his mouth to touch your heated skin. Lips brushing against your lower abdomen, he asked again, “Can I?” 
Your brain was a mess. Yet you managed to mumble a firm, “Yes…” 
With his mouth mere inches away from your throbbing clit, he said, “Keep your legs up just like that for me, okay?”
You nodded, looking down in between your legs as he leaned in and pressed his mouth against your wetness. He looked up immediately, holding your stare as he slid his tongue against, the roughness of his beard against your softness was driving you insane. 
You held yourself up on your elbows as you watched him eat you out. The warmth of his mouth, the slow caress of his hands against your inner thighs, the intense look in his eyes as he tasted you. It made you feel like you were floating. 
It was too much, it was not enough. You wanted him, you wanted more. 
“You taste sweeter than any dessert, doll.” He whispered, kissing around your wet clit before sucking on it hard enough to make you come, your back arched off the surface, riding his face as you cried out in pleasure. “But it’s not enough.” He admitted, pulling away and kissing his way up your body. “Is it?” 
You barely caught your breath, your heart racing as you laid there in front of him. 
“Get down, and bend over for me.” He spoke in that enchanting voice of his which put you under his spell so easily. 
You moved immediately this time. He was still fully dressed and you didn’t have a single article of clothing on and somehow that made you feel hotter. 
You bent over the island in front of him, your front pressed against the edge. You placed your hands down and turned to look at him over your shoulder. You watched how he grabbed your hips and spread your legs, leaning closer to kiss up your spine. 
“So beautiful,” He whispered against the back of your neck. “Now, are you gonna let me fuck you? Hmm? Are you gonna let me put both of us out of our misery, doll?” 
“Yes.” 
“Good.” 
He pulled his hands away from you for a moment, lowering his trousers enough to free his cock. You wished you could see it properly. You wished you could kneel down in front of him and take him into your mouth and– 
You gasped out loud when you felt the tip of his hard, warm cock pressing against you. Nothing mattered in that moment, not when he was gently rubbing his cock up and down your wet slit, parting your folds. 
You squirmed against the hard surface under you, pushing back into him in need. “Please…” You whispered, desperate for him. You had never been this needy for a man before. 
You braced yourself for his thrust, knowing it was coming. 
Slowly, Bucky slid inside you, filling you up and stretching you out as he did. He let out a sigh of pleasure once he was seated deep inside you, gripping on your hips tightly as he gave you both a moment to get used to it. 
You felt so full, like you’ve never been before. So full, you could barely form a coherent thought. All you knew was you wanted more. 
You let out a quiet moan as he started fucking you gently. 
“You feel so fucking good,” He hissed, “So warm and tight for me.” Bucky whispered, fucking into you with a pace that made you want to scream and shout because it felt so good. 
Each time he filled you up, the tip of his cock brushed against your most sensitive spot and you moaned as your walls clenched around him. 
“Poor little doll,” He cooed, “This will be your new routine for the next few days now. Just getting fucked, and caressed all the time while the storm rages on outside.” 
His thrusts got harder. Your moans got louder. His words made you clench around him even more. 
“Look at you,” He growled. “Pretty girl letting a older man she barely knows fuck her like she’s a needy little whore.” His voice was deeper, and as menacing as his words were his touch was just as soft and careful. His fingers circled your clit gently while he pounded into you from behind. “Would you bend over for any man, doll? Hmm? Whoever offered you shelter from the storm, is this how you’d repay him? By letting him fuck your needy little cunt?” 
You couldn’t help but cry out, moaning in pleasure as his words took you higher. You did have a little bit of a degrading kink, who didn’t? But never had anyone ever hit the spot like Bucky did. And given how your wetness dripped down his fingers, he could tell. 
Bucky chuckled darkly. “Does that turn you on, doll? Knowing that I can selfishly take from you now that you’re stuck here with me?” His other hand came up to grab you by the back of your neck as he whispered into your ear, fucking into you hard enough that your body slammed into the kitchen island with each thrust. “Does it turn you on knowing you’ll have to be my little slut for the next few days? That you’ll have to spread those legs for me and let me fuck you whenever I want to?” 
“Yes…” You whimpered as he pounded deeper into you. You didn’t want him to stop. Ever. 
He hissed into your ear, “Is that what you are now? My little slut?” He chuckled, rolling his hips in a way that had you whimpering and squirming in pleasure beneath him. “Well, what a perfect way of repaying me for my kindness, hmm?” 
“Please, Bucky…” You whimpered. 
Bucky hummed, kissing your warm skin, “I know, pretty girl. I know, it feels good, doesn’t it?” 
His words made you feel feverish, and wild. Lust-drunk more than ever. You moaned as he sped up again, a familiar warmth taking over you, and a pressure building in between your hips. 
You whined, “I’m gonna come.” You cried, and you were pretty sure you had tears streaming down your face. 
“Come for me, then. Come all over my cock, doll.” 
Your brain was a foggy mess after that. You came hard though, clenching around him violently as you did. 
“Fuck… look at you,” He whispered, his cock pounding harder into you until he came as well, spilling all over your lower back as he panted in exhaustion. “You okay, doll?” 
You nodded slowly, pressing your forehead down against the cool surface and catching your breath. 
“Come on,” His voice was softer now as he pulled you up and held you against him. Your back to his chest as he wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling your neck and leaving soft kisses all over your neck and the side of your face. “Let’s get you in bed, yeah?” 
You asked in a shaky voice, “And then can we fuck again?” 
Bucky chuckled, hugging you tightly before saying, “Yes we can, pretty girl.”
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elodieunderglass · 10 months ago
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This morning Dr Glass decided to offer me the opportunity to enjoy some psychic damage and harm. “Are you ready for something that will hurt you a lot?” He asked, linking me to an article in The Telegraph, a right-wing UK newspaper, advertising some content published by an even-more-right-wing think tank.
The Telegraph headline is trying to make it sound like a proper research “report” but it’s just an ad for this guy’s book.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
While it’s interesting to remember & reflect on the fact that the transatlantic slave trade enriched individuals, while the majority of British citizens were forced to pay for the military that enforced the colonial violence that protected that wealth, it isn’t exactly a “gotcha” that somehow undoes the logic of reparation. The intended audience just skims headlines and then gets mad, so the rest of the writing is really just a prop to justify the headline.
However, as Dr Glass knew it would, the sheep farming thing took me out at the knees.
Wandering about with a blank stare wondering if British sheep farming - sheep farming! Shaped the ecosystem of a nation! Sheep! Roman Britain! Chalk downland ecosystems! Queen Elizabeth’s mint sauce! The Highland Clearances! Textiles! Industrial Revolution what! help!!! - is something the guy, like. hasn’t heard about. like he just somehow coasted his way into a paid job doing british economic history never hearing about sheep farming, so it can sort of be waved away. “Why get so upset about slavery when it was only as impactful in British economic history as sheep farming, which we NEVER hear about” is such a deranged take that I hang myself up on it like a cartoon character stuck on a tree while falling off a cliff.
. Like I get that this is disingenuous but that deranged little broken part of me, as Dr Glass predicted, is practically frantic wondering if the guy somehow just had Sheep Blindness Syndrome, like he mentally overwrites all instances of encountered sheep as, like, mushrooms or something. I keep explaining to my mind that he is just using cheap&nasty rhetoric with no intention of standing up to scrutiny, but I am also the innocent and passionate child grabbing myself by the collar going ELODIE HOW DID HE MISS THE SHEEP? IS HE OKAY?
Anyway, spreading out the damage amongst you all instead so I can focus on my day .
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