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natailiatulls07 · 4 months ago

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New wag in the paddock

Summary - Being the newest wag in the paddock can be quite daunting but with the right people around you, it's all okay

Warning - None <3

A/n - Slowly easing back into writing?? We'll see lol

Walking into the paddock with beyond nerve racking, with photographers just inside of the entrance and fans just outside of the entrance - I had no where to hide or breathe.

Luckily walking alongside me with Rebecca Donaldson, Carlos' partner. Because of our partners friendship, we were close friends. She had become someone who'd help me and become like a sister to me in the paddock and even beyond.

This morning particularly she had come over to mine and Landos suite to help me get ready for my first paddock day just after him and Carlos had left. Helping with picking out a gorgeous dress, helping with my makeup and also my hair. Like my own fairy godmother in a way.

'Wow there's a lot of people here...' I whisper in her direction, my eyes took in the busyness of a Sunday morning race day paddock. Next to me, I feel her laugh - She's used to this.

With a soft nod and a slip of an arm round my back, Rebecca is quick to reply. 'Yep it's a race day in Miami, you'll get used to it...' I feel her gently pushing me along, prompiting me not to run back out and go back to the safety of the hotel.

It wasn't long before she dropped me off at the McLaren hospitality. Wishing me good luck with a hug and a warm smile before I stand pathically watching her leave me to defend for myself - Almost like a child would whilst being dropped off for their first day of school. In a sense, it was exactly that; I had been dropped off and know expected to make friends until someone I knew would come and safe me.

I breathe in, turn on my heel and walk quietly into the McLaren hospitality. Inside it's modern and high tech, obviously very well thought out. There are multiple seating areas, some small groups accompanying a couple. I can smell fresh coffee as I walk over to a small sofa, sitting there anxiously.

Opening my phone, I can already see multiple notification from various social platforms. I hazard a guess that they are mostly all gossip sites tagging me in their posts.

But one notification stands out to me.

It's on instagram, informing me that I've been added to a groupchat. More specifically a groupchat for the f1 wags. My heart warms at their consideration and kindness, so this is what it feels like to be in a big friendship group of girls.

Soon a few messages start to load into the chat;

lilymhe - Heyyy Y/n! Welcome to the group, this is a safe space for you always xx

francisca.cgomes - Yeah all the girls are in this group so we all gossip, vent and help out in here! Girls support girls obv <3

carmenmmundt - Hi sweetheart!

kellypiquet - Literally if you need anything, send a quick message here and we'll help always x

alexandrasaintmleux - Babes I just saw the photos, you look STUNNING!!! <333

I don't even the big smile that forms on my lips, the feeling of acceptance heavy on my mind. Accidently I don't notice the person in front of me until I hear a soft cough. Looking up I recogise Lando trainer, Jon, stood waiting patiently with a small smile. I gasp at my oblivion. 'Oh my gosh, I'm sorry! You haven't been stood there long, gosh how oblivious can I get?' I nervously ramble.

I've only met him a hand full of times and to keep him waiting felt very rude of me. A soft chuckle escapes his lips as he shakes his head, prompting me to breathe out a sigh of relief.

'No don't worry, I came to get you cause you're boyfriend wants to see you before the race starts...' He explains, watching as I quickly gather my things - I don't want to keep him waiting any longer. 'Hey, no need to rush...' He chuckles, sensing my nerves. It'd be hard not to.

Notable I slow down, no longer rushing to collect myself. I let out a soft sigh, a smile screwing itself onto my lips. And once I have everything, I let Jon lead the way through to Landos garage.

As soon as we walk into the garage, my eyes are immediately drawn to Lando who is stood talking to a few engineers. With his classic smile on his face, something I really do adore is watching as he talks about his job - He really does love it, possible more than me.

I stand there for a few seconds, not wanting to intrude on his conversation. Around me the team work around the garage, clearly buzzing with pre race excitement, nerves and preparation - Something Jon went along with when we arrived.

Then suddenly, I feel eyes on me and I notice Lando walking towards me enthusiastically. As soon as I am in arms reach, I feel his arms slip comfortably around my waist. 'Hi...' I smile, slipping my own arms around his neck. 'How are you doing?'

Lando takes a few seconds, just staring lovingly at me before smirking. 'Good, better now that you're here. How did this morning go? You and Rebecca get here alright?' He questioned, very grateful that I had someone to join this morning.

I nod keenly, moving on to explain about my morning as my hand start to play with some of his mullet. 'Oh I was added to the wag groupchat, they're all really nice people. They said that I can talk to them about anything and ask for advice you know. I've only really met Rebecca so they don't they even know me but they still like accept me, I thought that was the sweet thing ever...' Unintentionally I go onto ramble about the other wags befriending me, only really stopping when I notice his gaze and gentle warm smile. 'Sorry I'm rambling...'

Looking around us, I can see some engineers watching curiously. A mix of his gaze on me, my realization and the engineers watching all make me blush deeply. 'No it's okay...'

His british cuts through my thoughts, reassuring me. 'I'm really happy that you got them beside you, they know what you're going through a lot more than I will ever so that's great!' One of his hands moves up to caress my cheek lovingly.

A comfortable silence falls on us for a few seconds, before I speak up once again. 'So are you ready for the race today? Is the car good?' I ask, despite not really understanding the sport I'm desperate to learn through Lando.

He turns, watching as the engineers do their final preperations and work and nodding confidently. 'Yeah all good! I've got my good luck charm with me and the car is set to do magic today!' Even the way he explains everything, there is a lot of excitement in his voice. I nod, careful to take in all the information he's telling me.

Our conversation continues for a few more minutes before he's notified that he has to make a move to get the car out onto the track. Quick Lando turns back towards me, smiling and pulling me into a tender kiss. 'I love you! Wish me luck!'

I return the same energy and excitement. 'Good luck Lan! You've got this! I love you too!'

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#formula one #formula one x reader #f1 #f1 x reader #lando norris #lando norris x reader #mclaren #mclaren x reader #rebecca donaldson #lily muni he #carmen mundt #kelly piquet #alexandra saint mleux #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris f1 #kika gomes

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put-me-through-the-wall · 3 months ago

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𝜗𝜚 Down the Rabbit Hole 𝜗𝜚

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Captain John Price x Fem!Reader

Work Count: 4.9k (I don't know what happened...)

Summary: Reader wanders a little too far off the path. Good thing such a nice older man came to help.

A/N: It's halloween y'all!! I freaking love halloween and all things spooky and scary. So I thought maybe I should write something really scary to fit the occasion. Okay so technically yesterday was halloween but better late than never. Let me know what you guys think. I don't think I have any smut out yet?? So please let me know any feedback or thoughts you have. I love you all so much!! 𝜗𝜚

Warnings: This story contain dark themes. Not to spoil but this one does contain DUBCON/NONCON elements, intoxicated reader, drugging, light bondage, kidnapping, forced impregnation. If you are not in the headspace the read this please scroll on. I will write some nicer things in the future.

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

With a sigh you pull out your phone, the blue light illuminating your face in the dark night. Just to find you have no cell signal this far out, of course. You try calling a few people but not a single call would go through. A simple dial tone rang out much to your dismay. Leaning back against the bumper of your car, you can feel the heat radiating off your exposed engine. You look towards the propped open hood of your tired vehicle.

The hissing machinery creates a pillar of steam when mixing with the chilled October air. Your leg bounces nervously while your eyes scan the surrounding forest. There are no street lights, no houses, not even the sound of cars whizzing by on a nearby roadway. Just dark woods and the crickets chirping. You mentally curse yourself and your friends for convincing you to drive so far out on your own.

You spend a long twenty minutes going back and forth between trying to find service along the road way and seeking warmth in the shelter of your car. Your costume doesn't provide much cover against the autumn cold. Clad only in a restricting corset top, tiny ruffled shorts, fishnet stocking, and shiny white heels. Topped off with a pair of fuzzy bunny ears fixed to a headband and a little white tail attached right above your butt. It looked better in your mirror at home when you were imagining sitting in a hot crowded house party surrounded by familiar faces.

Your focus breaks from the car's owner manual when you hear a distant rumbling. You hop out of the driver's side seat and look to see a blinding set of headlights coming your way. As the lights come closer at a rapid speed you wave and step closer to the asphalt to catch the driver's attention.

Thankfully it begins to slow and rumbles to a stop a few feet short of your car. The driver kills the engine along with the annoyingly bright LEDs. Thet turn their hazard lights on, bathing the area in a blinking orange glow. You are stunned for a moment while your sight adjusts back to the dim night. You make out the shape of a large pickup truck through spotted vision. Its boxy silhouette shows a vehicle past its prime and out of style. You take that as a good sign thinking the owner must know something about taking care of cars.

The driver's side door creaks open and out comes a pair of boots dropping onto the roadside. When they slam the door you see a large shadow saunter towards you. Heavy steps crunch on the earth below.

"Thanks for stopping" You cross your exposed arms over your chest hoping they don't see the way you're shaking. You pretend like this isn't a total horror movie scene right now. Telling yourself the shivers are from the frigid air, not fear.

"You alright?" A thickly accented english voice asks. The figure finally reaches you. You have to crane your neck up to look him in the face, his broadness could swallow your quivering frame.

"Yeah, I'm fine. My car not so much" you gesture back to the front of your lifeless automobile. He looks over you and hums in understanding.

"I can take a look for you," He steps past and takes in the sight under your hood. “What happened?” He takes a moment to unbutton the cuffs of his shirt and scrunch up the sleeves.

“I don't know. I was just driving and then I heard some weird sounds then it started driving funny.” you attempt to explain.

“What kind of sounds?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” you shrug.

“Like a rattling, a pop, what?”

“If I am being completely honest I had the radio up kinda loud so I can’t really remember. I just know I heard something then it started to shake and slow down.”

You watch as he leans forward, large hands braced against the low bumper. "Do you have a flashlight?" his tone is flat, is he mad at you?

"Yeah," you pull your phone and click on the flashlight. You stand on the side of the car and try to hold it steady with both of your shaking hands.

"You can come a little closer," he looks up and smiles. "I don't bite"

You give a nervous chuckle and step around to the front of the car. Still careful to keep a good amount of distance from the stranger.

"Can you- here let me just," his large hand wraps around your wrist and gently draws your hand further out until you're almost bent over reaching across the space. "That's better."

He checks different areas, twisting and tapping on a few parts. Checking the levels of the various fluids. Occasionally repositioning the angle of your flashlight with a firm yet polite adjustment of your arm.

"Have you called anyone yet?" His gentle eyes look up from underneath his thick brow.

You hesitate for a moment considering the implication of your answer. He holds your stare as you try not to appear nervous. "Yes, I called roadside assistance but they won't be here for a while. They know I'm here though." You rush out a lie.

"Hm, yeah we're pretty out" he looks back at the machinery. He stands up straight, brushes his hands off on the thighs of his jeans. "Looks like you're not going anywhere."

Your stomach tightens and you pull back your flashlight leaving you both in the darkness.

"I can fix it but I'm going to need to go back to my place and grab some tools" He pulls the hood of your car down and slams it shut. "Or you can wait for the guy to get here. You'll be waiting for a while though"

You hold your phone tight in your palm feeling torn between trusting this stranger or going back to being stranded. "Um," it's hard to think with the constant waves of shivers going through you.

"Or you can stay here in the middle of the woods by yourself. Up to you," He pulls his keys from his pocket with a jingle and walks around you, back in the direction of his truck.

You look between your own car, the dark tree line, and the tall man getting further away.

"Okay!" You call to him. He turns and watches as you reach into your open car door to grab your purse and keys. You lock the door behind you and walk towards him.

You hear his door squeak open then his truck rev to life you. You quicken your pace to reach the passenger side, not wanting to be left alone here for another second. Before you can grab the handle he is reached over the long bench seat pushing to open from the inside.

"Glad you could make it," his cheeky smile causes his eyes to crinkle in the corners.

"Better than getting mauled by a bear" You haul yourself up and into the seat. The interior is still warm which allows you to relax a bit while your shiver subside. You take in the roomy cab of his truck. Nice leather seat, very clean, smells good. Surely he is just a kind older man wanting ti help out a stranded, clueless woman.

"You'd be alright. Bears normally hunt in the mornings. Bobcats on the other hand, that's what you've got to watch out for." He places his hand on the gear shifter, "Seatbelt," and nods down towards the unclipped buckle.

"Okay but first, can you promise you're not going to kidnap or kill me?" You stare him down as he holds a faint smile.

"I'm not going to kill you," he chuckles

"You see, that's exactly what a murderer would say," you are only half joking with that statement but buckle yourself in anyways.

"I guess you're going to have to trust me then" He focuses his eyes forward and pulls onto the road.

"I don't even know your name."

"I don't know yours either" he counters

"Fair enough," you consider it for a moment before telling him your name, and he tells you his.

"I don’t mean to be rude but, what's with the outfit?" he glanced your way for a moment. You don't miss the way his eyes trace down your figure.

"I'm a bunny, duh." You point to the fluffy ears fixed to your headband. His brows remains drawn in confusion. "It's halloween," you continue stating the obvious.

"Is it?" he finally puts it together. "My work has been hectic. It's easy to lose track of time. Heading to a party, then?" he asks.

"Was. I think I took a wrong turn a few miles back but I lost my cell signal so, I couldn’t get the map to load. Then my car died."

"That's some bad luck. Maybe you should look into getting a lucky rabbit's foot." He raises his eyebrows and chuckles.

"Ha ha," you respond humorlessly. "Look, the costume would've been a lot better with my friend. She's supposed to be a magician. Y'know like a magician pulls the white rabbit out of the hat."

"Right," he nods.

"Yeah, but it looks like I won't be making it tonight. I'm not too upset though. I'm not much of a party person."

"No?"

"No way, I'm a homebody. I hardly ever leave my house if I'm being honest. I work from home too so that keeps me pretty busy. Wow, sorry I didn’t mean to tell you my whole life story," you chuckle nervously.

"’S alright, I don’t mind. Your boyfriend doesn't take you out?" he asks.

"Boyfriend? No, I don't have a boyfriend."

"Sorry, I just assumed. I mean, you're a pretty girl. Hard to believe you don't have someone to look after you."

"Oh, thanks" a bashful blush rises up your cheeks. "Like I said, I don't get out much. Not many opportunities to meet people. Which is part of the reason my friend gets so mad at me. I've canceled on her the past three times she has asked me to hang out. She had to beg me to come tonight. I kind of feel bad though. She's probably going to think I bailed again."

"When we get back to my place you can use my phone to give her a call if you'd like," he offered.

"Yeah, I probably should."

Looking out the windshield you can make out speckles of light ahead, breaking up the dense forest. John makes a final turn and you find yourself pulling up to a very nice cabin. Wood paneling lined the exterior framing several expansive windows which emit a warm yellow light behind the closed curtains. The glass panels stretch high to the sloped asymmetrical ceiling. The architecture looks straight out of the seventies.

"Wow, this is your place?" you ask in amazement. "What do you do for work?"

"I work for the government," he states simply before turning off the truck and exiting. He walks around to your side and opens your door. He offers his hand to you which you shyly take as you hop down from the elevated cab. "Your hands are cold," he gives your hand a small squeeze fully enveloping it in his palm. "Let's get you warmed up inside."

He ushers you up the driveway, his hand now transitioned to your lower back. You can't deny the way his touch makes your stomach flip. He opens the door and you step into the cozy home.

You are greeted by a vast living room. A long espresso colored leather sofa sits among matching chairs all facing towards a large stone fireplace. The space is washed in varying shades of warm browns and oranges. A beautiful thick rug lays across the glossy hardwood.

"Sit, let me get you a drink. Would you like some tea, coffee, a beer?"

"I'll have a coffee," with your confirmation he stepped through the living room to the connecting kitchen. Your eyes follow him as he disappears through the doorway. "Government job, huh? You must be very important." You step to one of the bookshelves that sit on either side of the fireplace. Scanning the many titles there.

"I guess you could say that." He laughs. "Do you take cream and sugar?"

"Yes, please." Your finger grazes the spines of the books. Many biographies and historical nonfiction among his collection sprinkled in with survival guides and warfare tactics.

"How about some Bailey's?"

"Sure,” you shrug. Maybe a little spiked coffee and make you relax a little.

He reappears with two steaming mugs in each hand. He offers one to you which you happily accept. Wrapping both hands around the cup, allowing the hot drink to unfreeze your fingers. He holds his gaze while he takes a sip and then releases a gravelly groan in satisfaction. You follow suit taking a sip, feeling the warmth descend in your throat and radiate in your chest.

"Not bad?"

"No, not at all, thank you,” you smile sweetly.

"How about a fire? Get you warmed up and then I'll go grab those tools, ay?" He doesn't allow you to answer before he sets his mug on the coffee table and kneels in front of the fireplace.

You sit on the couch and watch while he makes quick work of getting the fire started. It's not long until he nurses the little flame into a roaring fire. He grabs a few fresh logs to throw on top before getting up and taking a seat next to you.

"Feeling better?" He asks as grabs his drink once more and settles into the cushions, arm slung across the back of the couch behind you.

"Much" With your cup now half empty you begin to feel the alcohol go straight to your head. You aren't surprised though. You haven't eaten all day in order to fit into this strangling outfit.

"I like your costume, by the way. I don't think I said that earlier. Not sure if I would've stopped if you didn't look so cute" His hand reaches from behind you and flicks your artificial ears.

"Hey" You adjust the head piece back in place. "This was a lot of work to put together, I'll have you know." You attempt to convey your seriousness but can't help the giggle that escapes.

"Oh, I can tell." His hand slips down from the back cushion to brush across your bare shoulder. The light touch makes your skin erupt in a flurry of goosebumps. "You're still pretty cold, bunny. Let me get you something warmer to put on."

"I'm okay, really. I'll warm up." You take another long sip on your hot beverage. "I feel fine."

"I insist" He rises from the couch and politely holds a hand out for you.

You are hesitant for a moment but seeing the persistence settled on his face you accept. "Alright," you relent.

He leads you down a dim corridor to the last room on the right. He pushes open the cracked door to reveal his neat bedroom. Very much resembling the rest of the house. A giant perfectly made bed sits in the center of the clean area. Makes sense considering the large man that sleeps in it. A lone lamp illuminates the room giving it a hazy appearance. Or maybe that's just your clouded mind.

He steps past you towards his dresser and pulls open one of the drawers. He pulls out a large shirt then a pair of pajama pants and hands them to you. "Not sure how well these will fit but it'll be more comfortable, I'm sure"

"Too bad" You look down at the folded clothes in your hand. "Feels like a total waste of a costume."

His eyes scan down your body once more. "I don't think so" He walks past you towards the door. "I sure got a kick out of it" He smiles and turns to close the door on his way out.

"John," you rush out before he goes.

"Hm?"

"Can you, um-" You look over your shoulder at him. Still facing away from him. "Can you untie me?" gesturing to the lace up back to your corset.

"Yeah, uh,” he clears his throat. “I can do that" he takes measured steps towards you. As though a hunter may quietly stalk up to its prey.

You look forward again and stand up a little straighter when his warm hands rest on your shoulders. They slowly slide down your back and onto the dense fabric. Fingers trailing over the layer of ribbon and boning. Finally he reaches the large bow at the base of your back. You feel the ribbon unwind to hang limply. Edges skimming the back of your thighs.

His strong fingers wedge themselves in the gaps between the laces. Tugging each intersection with meticulous movements so as not to throw you off balance. Your hands rush to press the front of your corset to your chest when you feel it begin to slip. At last you can take a full breath.

Feeling his touch retreat after finishing the task you turn back towards him. Neck craning up to meet his eyes. The height difference was much more apparent from this close proximity.

"Thank you,” your voice coming out just over a whisper.

"It's no trouble" He matches your hushed tone.

Your heart is beating out of your chest. Maybe it was the drink, or the fact that you were touch starved, perhaps even the fact that it was halloween but you felt bold. Bold enough to release your hands and allow the undone corset to fall to the ground below.

Without a moment's hesitation John harshly grabs the back of your neck and smashes his mouth into yours as if thats the sign he’s been waiting for. Lips collide in a hot rush. His stong arms pull you flush against his broad frame. Deep groans rumble from his chest.

Your sluggish movements make you struggle to keep up with his hectic pace. Your hands sliding up his neck to tug at his cropped hair. One particular harsh tug draws a growl from him.

He walks you backwards across the room until the back of your tight clad legs meet the soft comforter. He releases his hold and you fall backwards onto the mattress.

He towers over you. His chest heaves with each breath as he stares you down. Your stomach flutters, unsure if it is due to excitement or fear. You begin scoot backwards up the bed but as you make your way towards the pillows his hand encircles one of your ankles.

"Not so fast little, bunny," he tugs your leg harshly and pulls you back towards him. He doesn't waste time as he dips his fingers into your tiny ruffled shorts yanking them down in one swift motion.

He climbs over you, wedging his thigh between your legs. His hand maneuvers around your lower back and behind your neck. He pulls you back into a heated kiss.

You feel the pressure from his muscular thigh press against you. You unconsciously grind your hips into his leg while he swipes his tongue across your bottom lip. He assists in your movements as he grips your hips, rocking you back and forth.

"That's it, pretty," he leans down to mumble in your ear. "I can feel you soaking through those little panties," then giving your earlobe a nip.

Moans slip from you with each movement. Rutting pathetically, unable to stop yourself as you near closer to your edge. He dips down to your neck expertly finding your sensitive points. Biting your pulse then soothing it with his tongue. The friction from his jeans rubs against your little cotton underwear and fishnets.

"John, please," you whine, unsure of what you're asking.

"Go ahead sweet girl, cum for me." His powerful grip digging into your waist.

With his words of approval paired with his hot mouth moving along your throat, you begin to unwind. Tipping over the edge, your legs tightening around his own. The knot in your stomach finally snaps. Back arching into him and loud moans pouring from you. A rush of heat fills you and until you finally slump back into the bedding.

John loosened his hold around you. A hand coming up to move hair away from your face. "You're a dirty little girl, aren't you? Humping my leg to get off. Nasty thing, you are."

A blush of embarrassment rising across your already flushed face. The shame morphs back into lust as you feel a tightness reform in your stomach.

John sits back on his knees and begins to unbutton his shirt. Your eyes can't help but to land on the massive bulge formed in his pants. A thick outline straining against the restricting denim. He finishes stripping off his shirt revealing his burly chest. You sit up to run your hands down his bare skin. Leaving kisses along the line of hair leading from his chest into his happy trail.

Your hands skim lower to find the buckle of his belt. You make quick work unbuckling and unfastening of his jeans. Hurriedly yanking down the offending material just enough to give way to his tight boxers. Your mouth salivates at the sight of his hard cock straining through the thin material.

Before you can rip away the final layer he grabs your wrists. “Not so fast,” he chuckled. Gathering both your wrist into one of his hands easily he uses the other to swiftly pull his belt from it loops. He takes the belt and wraps it around your wrists, securing them tightly together.

“Needy girl,” he mumbles. His rough palms traced down your arms then along your waist. “Taking whatever you want,” his fingers skim along the pattern of your fishnets. “It’s my turn now, bunny,” once he reaches your still clothed center. Finger grip the threads of your tights and rip them open. Completely tearing the flimsy strands to fully expose your panties.

He slides his fingers across your sensitive clothed cunt making your hips thrust into him. “Oh, bunny. You’re soaked,” his eyes flick back up to meet yours. The black of his pupil now blown out almost completely consuming the previously blue iris.

He takes your bound wrists and pulls them over his head. Your arms now wrapped around his neck, your bare chest flush against his. He pulls you into his lap, your legs straddling his hips. Not bothered enough to fully undress he jerks down the waistband of his boxers. Allowing his thick cock to spring out. Fingers frantically pulling aside the drenched material of your panties, exposing your throbbing heat.

He grinds his hips up to meet yours. Sliding his cock easily through your wet folds.

“Oh god,” you whimpered as his head rubs against your sensitive clit. “Please, fuck me”

Needing no more prompting he pulls your hips back and lines himself up with your needy hole but not yet entering. “You want this?” He dips just the tip of his head in, teasing your dripping entrance.

“Yes, please,” you beg, looking at him through your lashes. You desperately try to grind your hips down but he holds you in place.

“What good manners you have,” he continues to tease and thrusts the tiniest movements, never fully entering.

“John, I can’t wait anymore, please, just- please. I need it. I-” Your string of pitiful begging is interrupted when he finally yanks your hips down. His length fills you completely in one smooth thrust. Your eyes roll back at the sensation as he fills you to the hilt.

He lets out a guttural moan once he is fully inside of you. “You’re so fucking tight,” he groans. His head dropped in the crook of your neck, biting the soft skin there. Mustache and stubble scratching along your collarbone. You yelp at the pain of his bite but he doesn't relent. Your pussy tightens around him as his teeth sink into the tender flesh.

His arms move from their grip on your hips and fully wrap around your back. He begins to thrust up into you. Not easing into the movement as he immediately drives his hips up at a brutal pace. As if he were unable to wait another second.

Unable to grip into anything with your bound hands, you find purchase digging your nails into the leather of the belt. Your head tipping back limply as you can only take his cruel ministrations.

“Is this what you wanted?” He grits out through his teeth, each word punctuated by his hips driving up into you. His cock pounds into your cervix making a flurry or stars burst behind your eyelids at every hit. “Is this what you’ve been needing? A good fucking?”

You mumble out a pathetic, “Mhm,” unable to fully process his words. His fingers dig into your shoulder and back. You are fully engulfed by this giant brute of a man.

“I know you do. I knew from the moment I saw you. Looking so sweet on the side of the road.” He chuckles darkly. Continuing to hold you tight against him he leans forward until your back hits the comforter. Your legs lock around his back while he holds your hips in place. The new angle has him pounding into your sweet spot over and over. The friction of his hair rubbing onto your clit creates the building of renewed heat in your stomach.

“You gonna cum again, pretty? Let me see you do it,” his thrusts slow from the frantic pace to a slower harder stroke. His arms lay on either side of your head while he studies your features. Hard length easing out of you slow enough for you to feel each ridge and vein. Then jerking his hip harshly back in.

Your head was feeling fuzzy. A drop of salvia trailed out of your lips and down your cheek. Your high was getting closer with each thrust. Eyelids fluttering shut as you feel the knot tighten in your stomach. So close to release. Your walls contract around him causing your legs to tighten, toes curling.

“Hey,” John snaps harshly. When he receives no response he gives you a light smack on the cheek. Hard enough to make your eyes pop open in shock. “Look at me, pretty girl. I need to see those eyes,” his words sound warm but he grips your jaw in place with a stern hold.

Your eyes flutter while you struggle to keep them focused on him. Coming closer to the edge. “Come on, you can do it. Don’t make you give you another smack. I don’t want to hit you, pretty girl. Don’t make me” his tone dripping in condensation. “That’s it, give it to me. I wanna see you come undone, bunny.”

Then you snap. A series of shockwaves ravages your tired body. Shooting sparks of electricity race through your limbs. Your unfocused eyes stayed fixed on him throughout your climax. Your back arches high into his chest. Fingers ball up tight, desperate for something to grip. Your mouth drop open agape in a silent cry. Tear form in the corners of your eyes threatening to spill from the over stimulation. His harsh movements not granting you mercy in your fraile state.

“God, I can feel you squeezing me. Oh, pretty girl, I'm gonna fill your sweet cunt,” he moans. Hips increase in pace as your tense muscle loosen in exhaustion.

“Wait-” You murmur, hardly able to get your words out. Only a string of incoherent mumblings follow. Your brain is completely clouded. You know you can’t let him finish inside. “Please, no,” you whimper. “Can’t”

“It’s gonna be okay, sweet girl. I’ve got you. I’m gonna fill you up and maybe I’ll get you pregnant.” He says with a wicked smile. “You want to be my little house bunny? Fuck you until you get big and round. Walk around pregnant barefoot,”

Alarm bells ring in your ears but you aren’t able to fight against his strong hold. Your limbs remain weak. Useless to pull away from his embrace “Please” you whine, “I can’t”

“You can, bunny.” His thrusts grow erratic, losing their rhythm. “Gonna be such a pretty mommy,” His hand slipped underneath your head allowing thick fingers to tangle into your hair. His hands closing into a fist giving the strands a sharp tug. The other hand wanders down to your hips. Holding you firmly in place with a bruising grip.

With one final thrust he releases a loud, guttural groan. Teeth bared in exertion as he reaches his own climax. Cock pulsing inside of you, draining his seed into your weeping womb. All you can do is tighten your jaw as you attempt to push, kick, scream, anything but you just lie there. The faintest gasp leaves you when you feel his warm load pool inside of you.

“You made it so easy for me,” he laughs. “You just got in my truck. Walked into my house. Silly girl, you don’t even know me. Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to talk to strangers.”

He gives a few more gentle pumps before pulling out completely. Leaving your aching cunt feeling empty. He leans back and stares down, watching him cum drip out of your still quivering cunt.

“You know, I put something in your drink. Took a little while to take, though. Got to you just in time I think. I was going to wait but you wanted it, didn’t you? I like seeing that dumb look in your eyes.” He grabs your jaw and moves your head back and forth while you stare blankly back at him.

“Couldn’t let a little bunny like you get away, could I?

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

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red-riot-unbreakable-heart · 2 days ago

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Touya Todoroki: Sexy Uber Driver!? | Touya x Reader AU Imagine 🌶

Absolutely no fuckin' clue where this one came from guys!! But it's hot, sexy and involves fucking a stranger! AU where there's no quirks and Touya is a tattoo artist who drives Uber as a aside gig. MDNI.

Ok but imagine that Touya is your Uber driver driving you home after a work event.

It's been a longass day, followed by a longass happy hour spent networking with co-workers. You're absolutely exhausted and your feet are killing you so you slip off your dainty high heels and hold them at your side. You sigh in relief when your standard SUV Uber pulls up to the curb. The driver rolls down the window slowly, giving you an appraising look. He takes in your sensible outfit, eyes lingering on the way your bare feet tap anxiously into the harsh cement of the sidewalk.

The driver looks to be about your age - mid-twenties. He's handsome, in an emo-goth sort of way. Dark black hair puffing up in all directions around a pale, aristocratic face. He's got a cute nose, but it's absolutely covered in piercings. So are his ears - silver cuffs climbing up his lobes and under his hair. He's wearing a black t-shirt that shows off the way his bicep flexes as he slings an arm across the steering wheel.

"Y/N?" He asks, glancing between you and your Uber profile on his phone.

"Yup, that's me." You say somewhat awkwardly, leaning around the car so you can triple confirm the license plate number.

"What, you think I'm the boogeyman or something? Do I look like someone who goes around kidnapping people for a living?" He smirks.

You peer down to look at the driver skeptically. He's cute. Thin as a rail in his tattered, well loved hoodie and jeans. His piercings sparkle beneath the streetlights, and he's got these light, bruised-looking circles under his eyes that indicate sleep loss. He's pretty in a grungy skater kind of way. He looks like he smokes cigarettes after sex. You raise an eyebrow.

"Actually, yeah. With those piercings and that vintage My Chemical Romance hoodie, you look like you'd kidnap my ass and lock me up in Hot Topic." You quirk your mouth into a grin, teasing. Flirting? Maybe. "I wouldn't advise kidnapping, though. My friends are all far too poor to pay any sort of emotastic ransom."

He wasn't expecting this quip, his eyes widening in surprise as he meets your dig with silence. Finally, he bursts out laughing, throwing his head back and smiling in a way that makes him look so, so pretty. You shake your head to clear it of your horny little thoughts. Your tired and you need to get home - stop flirting with the Uber driver! You just want to tuck yourself into bed with a warm cup of tea. Maybe jerk off until you fall asleep.

You slouch into the backseat of the car and toss your work bag to the floor along with your shoes. You shut the door soundly behind you and the driver pulls away from the curb and onto the road. As you dig through your bag for your emergency pair of socks, you're happy to note that it's nice and cozy inside the car. When you finally grasp the thick white socks at the bottom of the bag you sigh in relief. You pull them on, haphazardly menuvering yourself around the backseat.

"I'm gonna need you to buckle up back there." The driver says lazily. "I don't have time for insurance hazards."

"Oh, right." You say flatly, reaching to grab your buckle and slide it into place. The buckle makes a loud "click!" as it finds it's home and the driver hums out a satisfied noise.

"You'd be surprised on how many people fight me on that." He says amiably.

"Fight you? About buckling their seatbelt?" You say in surprise. "That's a weird hill to die on."

You see the driver's shoulders rise and fall in an exasperated little shrug. "It's simple - people don't like being told what to do. Especially not by their driver. Everyone in this area seems to think an Uber driver should be seen and not heard."

"Oh. That kinda sucks."

"Eh, it's a means to an end." He says with another small shrug.

It’s a long drive home - a full hour in the car. You pop in your air pods but the driver is chatty. You scowl at first, longing to decompress and sink into your favorite playlist. No such luck - the driver is roasting your work outfit.

“Pencil skirts are stupid, you’re too good looking for something so uptight.” You bite back a with a witty reply, and before you know it the flirty banter has turned to a heart to heart with your emo ass ride share driver.

It only takes few minutes for you to realize how fucking hot he is - he glances back at you through the rearview mirror with ice blue eyes and you’re practically in love. The time flies - you talk about your job, the horrific dating scene in the city, the way you dream about doing something crafty on the weekends but always end up sinking into your chores instead. He talks about the tattoo parlor that he shares with his friends Spinner and Tomura, the pranks they pull on each other during the slow days. He tells you in detail about his dreams of selling more prints of his art, how he really wants to make something of himself as an artist but he's too afraid to branch out beyond ink. You ask about his fares and what he uses the extra driving money for. He hates driving drunk people, but he also likes taking care of people - making sure they've gotten home safe. He likes knowing that in driving them, he's keeping one less drunk driver off the road. As for the extra money, well...he tells you about the expensive oil paints he's saving up to buy, and the canvases he wants to hand stretch in his garage.

When he pulls up to your apartment complex you find you don’t really want to leave. He puts the car in neutral and you continue to chat. He turns in his seat to look at you and you blush under his intense gaze. Eventually, the conversation trails off and the tension in the air is almost unbearable. You stare at him, want thick on your tongue like honey. His eyes glint as they dip down to glance at your lips, and you know he wants you just as badly. It's been what, an hour since you met? Maybe two? You don't even know this guy. He could be married! You glance at his left hand...no ring. He seems like a good enough guy, right? You're still looking at his hands. They're so goddamn hot. You picture what his hands would look like gripping your hips, slapping your ass, wrapping around your throat to provide the tiniest bit of pressure...

"You're staring." He says in that low voice of his. You love the way he talks - his words come out almost lazy but his tone is deep, teasing. Your eyes flicker up in surprise.

"I am." You say evenly, meeting his gaze. "I was thinking that maybe we should..." Your tone is honeyed, sultry. You let your eyes drop down to his lips and linger there. When your eyes travel back up to meet his own, his eyebrows raise in a silent question. Do you want what I want? And are you willing to take it?

10 minutes later he has you bent over in the back seat of his car, rolling his hips rhythmically as he fucks you better than you’ve been fucked in years.

Your sensible blouse is half unbuttoned and in disarray, and your pencil skirt is hiked up around your waist. The driver had a spare condom in the glove compartment of his car (you hope it hasn't been there too long and that it isn't expired!?), and man is he putting it to good use. At some point you pulled off your driver's faded MCR hoodie and t-shirt, and now his toned stomach and chest glint in the soft glow radiating off of the dashboard's radio. He's absolutely covered in tattoos - intricate ink designs that you wish you had more light to see. His jeans are pushed down and pooled around his ankles as he takes you from behind. It's a messy, chaotic, half-dressed fuck and it's exactly what you needed tonight.

"What's your name again?" You gasp out as he pecks hot kisses up the side of your neck. "Tony?"

He pulls back his head so he can look at you fully, scowling at the mistaken name. "It's Touya." He says, fucking up into you hard. His cock is the perfect size and fits you like a glove - it makes you dizzy with desire every time he thrusts that hot fucking dick up into your pussy. "And what should I call you, sweetheart?"

"Y/N." You gasp out as you feel yourself throb around his cock. Your body is absolutely melting into his - it's as if the two of you have been having sex for years. You just kind of fit together like puzzle pieces (Which sounds cliche as all fuck, but you're too cock drunk to think of more eloquent prose to describe the way your bodies push and pull against each other like the tide.).

He thrusts into you again, more softly as he rolls your name around his tongue thoughtfully. "Y/N. Huh, that's kinda pretty." He pulls out unexpectedly and you whine at the loss. You want him back inside of you as soon as possible - in fact, you're desperate for it. "Aw, don't worry beautiful. You can have as much cock as you want tonight. You were my last fare of the evening."

He pulls you back and awkwardly repositions you so that you're lying in the back seat. It's cramped and your head rests at a sort of odd angle pressing into the car door. But it's hot. And you don't give a damn right now about anything except being fucked.

"Let me see these pretty tits." Touya says in a rough voice, bringing deft fingers down to your mangled blouse. He easily flicks the rest of the buttons open and pulls the delicate material away from your chest, and off of your arms, revealing a sensible white padded bra. He stares at your boobs hungrily, like a wolf staring down its prey. He slides a hand gently beneath you and you feel him unhook your bra with practiced skill. He slides the material off of your body, slowly exposing your tits to the cool air.

"Fuck." He breathes as he tosses your bra into the front seat. He bends over and begins to absolutely devour your tits. He takes one in each hand, fondling and squeezing lightly at the soft flesh of your breasts. He lavishes your left boob with kisses, running the underside of his tongue along your nipple in a way that's so tender it makes you gasp.

"I like that sound, sweetheart." He says, looking up at you with those intense blue eyes. He rests his chin on the swell of your breast as he uses his long fingers to pinch at your nipple. "Keep making that sound?" You nod dumbly and he goes back to suckling your nipple. He runs his teeth lightly across the tiny nub before lavishing you even more with that skilled tongue of his. Goddamn it feels so good. With each swirl and pinch, desire shoots straight to your core.

"Touya."

"Mm?" Touya moves to give attention to your right breast, looking up at you as he sucks and licks his way into your heart.

"Touya I'm so fuckin' wet, I'm gonna ruin the seat of your car." You say nervously, squealing as he slides a hand down your body and in between your legs. He finds your clit easily with his fingertips, swirling the pad of his thumb along your sweet spot as he continues to suck on one of your breasts.

He releases your breast from his mouth with a gentle pop!

"That's alright, beautiful. It's easy to clean." He lets his fingers trace the outer folds of your pussy and you shiver at the contact. He takes a moment to grin down at you before pressing a finger inside. You suck in a sharp breath as your body practically pulls him into you. You've never really been into fingering, but the way the pads of Touya's fingers play you delicately like a harp has you rethinking your opinion on the sex act.

"Don't stop." You gasp out as he slides a second digit into your needy cunt. His strokes are gentle but his rhythm is relentless. He seems to know exactly how to move to please you. He places a hot open mouthed kiss on the space between your breasts, staring up at you with sparkling eyes. "You're so fucking hot, I can't even deal." You groan out, hands flying to his thick hair and pulling slightly. He makes an appreciative noise deep in the back of his throat, encouraging you to keep pulling at his thick locks.

"Can I get back to fucking you now, princess?" He all but growls as you smooth a hand down to the nape of his neck and gather a fistful of hair to pull. Damn what is with this man and pet names? You always thought that being called terms of endearment in bed was cheesy and cringe, but when Touya does it...it's hot. You're already hungry for him to call you "sweetheart" or "beautiful" again - it makes this feel real. Like it's something. (You are perfectly aware that this is a weird one off sexy hookup in the back of a rando's car, but the romantic in you is deeply longing for this to be more.)

"Yes, please." You say as you feel his fingers slide away from your pussy. "Hold on - we should use a fresh condom."

"Ah. I think this was my only one."

"No worries, I have an emergency one in my bag." You reach down beneath the seat and grasp for your bag. Your hand snags the handle and you hoist it towards you. You quickly shuffle through your things before finding a tiny floral zippy pouch that you use for emergency pads, tampons, and...got it. You pull out a tiny golden foil square and hold it between your fingers triumphantly. Touya takes it from you and tears open the packaging as you toss your bag back to the ground.

"We love a modern woman." He says, removing the condom from the package and shifting over to roll it down his length in a single, practiced motion.

"A girl's gotta be prepared." You say haughtily, smiling as you admire his dick.

He pulls himself up carefully and places his arms on either side of you, maneuvering the best he can in the backseat of his car. He hovers over you, and the glow of the dashboard makes his features look downright angelic. The soul shatteringly blue eyes, that pale skin and sharp, aristocratic nose of his...it's all far too much and he is far too beautiful.

"You're so gorgeous, Touya." You say in a hoarse whisper. His eyes widen in surprise and his cheeks get the tiniest bit rosy. He wasn't expecting that. He quickly regains his composure and chuckles, looking away from your face and down at your exposed breasts.

"Well I don't know about that, beautiful." He lets his eyes drink in your body, wandering down your chest and across the gentle curve of your hips. He looks like he's trying to commit you to memory. You shift under his gaze, self-couscous at the way you're laying exposed in the back of a stranger's car like some kind of trollop. "I certainly couldn't pull off a pencil skirt - so, I think you're beating me in the gorgeous department."

"I thought you didn't like the pencil skirt." You huff, your indigence melting into a giggle as he presses a gentle kiss to your cheek.

"It's growing on me. It looks good like this." He gestures with one hand at the way it's gathered around your bare midriff. "Really frames your pussy."

You crack up at that, and Touya shuts you up when he leans down and kisses you deeply. The way he kisses...it's not what you expected. The kiss is soft, measured. He slides his lips against yours with practiced skill. Tt's not aggressive and fiery like you were anticipating - it's sweet and slow. He moves to kiss the side of your face softly. He uses his left arm to prop himself up as he smooths his right up to tuck your hair behind your ear as he kisses the hollow beneath your neck. You let out a soft sigh and he grins into your warm flesh. He's just so unexpectedly sweet. You can feel the weight of his cock against you, twitching every now and then with arousal.

He reaches down between your bodies to grasps at his dick, scooting down a bit to get into a better position. He slowly guides the tip to you, sliding his weighty dick against your slit, gathering up your wetness. You gasp at the contact, the velvety slide of his cock against you fills you with warmth. He pauses for a moment, bringing his cock up a bit so he can rub it against your clit cheekily. At this point it feels like your entire body is flushed and turned on, and you bite back a deep moan at the contact. You're desperate for him to just take you already, and you tell him so in a needy voice.

"No one can hear us in here, you can make as much noise as you want." He says with a chuckle, slipping and sliding his cockhead to your entrance. "Let's see if this is moan worthy." He shoots you a wicked grin as he pushes inside you and you gasp out as his blunt tip slides into your wet cunt. The feeling is other-wordly, it makes you feel as if you've never been fucked properly before.

"Touya." Is all you can manage to say as he reaches down to prop up your left leg on the seat for a better angle. He wraps an arm around your knee and flexes his hips to go deeper. You feel each glorious inch of him slide into place, the light stretch of your pussy walls is absolutely, sinfully delicious.

This time, he takes things slowly. Each thrust is measured and sweet. He looks down at you with an open, adoring expression that makes you flush. You've only been looked at like that a handful of times during sex, and the intimacy of it always takes you by surprise. You've met his man maybe two hours ago? And this stranger is fucking worshiping your body. He's making goddamn love to you.

"Y/N." He groans as he thrusts into you deep, his hips stuttering a bit with the pleasure of it all. He closes his eyes and savors the feel of you around him - soft and hot. When you flex your pelvic muscles around him he laughs a bit - gravely but sweet. You can't quite describe it, but he's got this sexy deep voice that makes your body feel electric when he says your name. "This was not how I was expecting to end my night shift."

Each slide of his thick cock inside of you has you seeing stars and your eyes practically roll back in your skull whenever he hits that sweet spot deep inside of you. His own eyes flutter back open so that he can watch your face reverently. He's trying to read your expressions and adjust his motions to best match your pleasure. He holds your propped knee against his slim body before sliding his hand up to play with your tits. Holy shit, this guy is trying to kill you with pleasure.

You look up at him with lazy eyes, wanting to commit this image to memory. He's too tall for the car, so he's hunched in a bit of an awkward crouch over you as he fucks. His stomach and chest are covered in winding black ink tattoos and his muscles a bit toned - he looks like he takes fairly good care of himself. His body nips in at the waist in a way that's downright unholy. You realize that the thick mop of hair on top of his head must be dyed black, because the rest of the hair running down his body is a soft white. For a moment you try to picture what he must look like with a head of white locks and the image in your head is just as lovely. You imagine he looks good no matter how he styles himself. He's a goddamn dream - beautiful in an ethereal way your sex-crazed brain can't quite describe. You almost forget to breathe.

A deep thrust into you brings your mind spinning back to focus on the sex. You feel your pussy flutter around Touya's perfect, hard dick and you realize you're closer to orgasm than you thought. You reach up to grab Touya's slight waist and encourage him to pick up his pace.

"Is my girl gonna finish on my cock?" He asks cheekily, grinning down at you.

My girl. The word shoots around your brain like pinball, lighting up all of your synapsis in a way that makes you so. incredibly. horny.

Oh god, you're gonna cum. You tell him, your voice breathy and warbling as you desperately clutch at his waist, trying to get as much of him inside of you as possible.

He laughs, but not unkindly. He's just as thrilled to be doing this with you, to be bringing you to the brink of pleasure. He doubles down on his pace, leaning forward to get a better angle. He fucks into you hard and rhymically and the tip of his cock hits your sweet spot again and again and again until...

"Fuck, Touya, I'm - "

"Yeah? Give it to me, sweetheart."

You cum hard, your body electric and buzzing as your pussy flares and flutters around that hot cock of his. You let out a cry of pleasure and Touya looks down at you with brilliant, wild blue eyes as he helps you ride out your high.

"Good girl." He says as he feels you finish, your hand dropping from his hips as the orgasm fades and exhaustion hits you. He slows down his pace a bit, drawing out his own pleasure. You feel yourself start to get overly sensitive as the orgasm fades and you come back to yourself.

"Touyaaa." You moan, indicating that it's becoming too much.

"Just a little longer, sweet girl. I'm almost there." You prop up your other leg, bending it towards you to give him better access to your pussy. You want to make him feel so good - as good as he just made you feel. You try to ignore the overstimulation.

"Oh, fuck." He says as he's able to somehow get even deeper. You can feel every twitch and shudder of Touya's cock as his thrusts become more shallow, more desperate. He looks down at you in awe, his mouth slack and his breathing uneven as he chases his high.

"I'm...Y/N, I'm..."

He quickly pulls out of you and wraps his hand around his cock, desperately stroking himself through his orgasm. He cums a moment later, thick white ropes splattering across the soft skin of your tummy. He paints you white with his seed, gasping your name under his breath as he brings himself to completion.

When he's done, he looks up at you with those bright blue eyes.

"Woah."

"Yeah."

You stare down at yourself - naked except for the pencil skirt that's still bunched up around your middle. You look so slutty like this - covered in a stranger's thick, pearly cum in the backseat of a ride share car. Touya is still hunched over you, hands resting on your knees as he stares down at the mess he's made. His cock is softening but he doesn't make a move to pull up his boxers to cover himself. He just stays where he is, staring dow at you like he's the luckiest fucking guy on the planet. And, you suppose, he is. It's not everyday that a driver gets to fuck his fare.

"Nice work, Jackson Pollock." You say, looking up at him mischievously and gesturing to the mess on your stomach. "I know you said you were an artist...but I didn't think you meant splatter paint."

He stares down at you for a moment, dumbstruck. His jaw has dropped and he looks so, so pretty and so, so stupid all at the same time. Then he shuts his mouth and starts to laugh. You both cackle together in the afterglow. It's all just so ridiculous - fucking a stranger in a rideshare vehicle, making jokes about art and cum. It's extra funny, too, because you realize there's no place you'd rather be right now.

You stay like that for a few minutes - laughing and swapping cum jokes. Once you've caught your breath, Touya shifts so that he can reach beneath the passengers seat and pull out a thin roll of paper towels. He tears off a few sheets and offers them to you. You gratefully accept, using the thin paper to wipe his cum off of your stomach.

"You fuck in here often?" You ask curiously, eyeing the paper towels as Touya begins to clean himself up as well.

"Heh, no. This is actually my first time having sex in a car if you can believe it." He laughs, tucking the rest of the towel roll back under the passenger seat. "That's more for when drunk people fuck up my upholstery."

"Ah. Yes. I could see that being a common problem for a driver who works at night." You say, hoping that the car seat beneath your bare ass hasn't been vomited on recently.

"Yeah. It's only happened twice, but that was two times to many."

"So are you out driving every night?" You ask as you try to unbunch your skirt.

"Only on the weekends when I have time." He says, finally reaching down to pull up his boxers. "When the shop gets slower in the wintertime I tend to drive more during the week for the extra cash. It's not a horrible side gig, all things considered. People are pretty decent." He looks at you thoughtfully. "You're the nicest fare I've had so far though, no one else has let me fuck them raw after the ride ends." You laugh at that. Yeah, what a weird fuckin' night it's been.

"Well you're the first ride share driver I've fucked. So it's a night of firsts all around."

He grins at you before beginning the search for his shirt and hoodie. He finds it in the front seat beneath your bra. He gathers the garments and tosses you your underthings.

"So - this your apartment?" He asks, nodding his head towards the building as he pulls his shirt down over his toned, tatted chest.

"Yeah. Um, do you want to come in for a cup of tea?" You offer uncertainly. What's the protocol here, anyway? Does he want to leave? You're out of your depth when it comes to random vehicular hookups.

He layers on his MCR hoodie, pulling it down over his t-shirt and adjusting it to lay comfortably on top of his waistline. When he emerges from the hood, his hair is unkempt and spikey but his face has lit up.

"Yeah, actually I'd love that. You wouldn't mind?"

"No, not at all. It's the least I can do for...uh...dripping all over your upholstery?" You give him an apologetic look as you shift off of the small wet spot on his car seat.

"Don't worry, I can wipe it down in the morning and no one will be any the wiser."

"Thank god. I'd be mortified if I'd fucked up your workplace."

"I appreciate that. But really, you're good." He reaches down and grabs your blouse, offering it up to you. You hastily shrug it on, buttoning it back into place. You lean down and scoop up your work bag and shoes. The happy hour feels like a lifetime ago.

A few minutes later, Touya is locking his car and following you up the stairs to your tiny apartment. The two of you laugh as you struggle with your apartment key with shaky hands. He leans over you in the door frame, offering to help, and you grin up at this stupidly hot guy you've somehow managed to fuck in your driveway. Once you manage to unlock the door, you grab his hand and pull him inside to your well decorated space.

"Wow, someone's got colorful taste." He lets out a low whistle as he takes in the many patterned art prints on your gallery wall, the bright checked plush blankets draped over your couch. You love bright things as well as florals, checks, patterns of all kinds. Your apartment is small, but cozy with all the creature comforts a twenty-something just outside the city could hope to have. There's a yellow Ikea tupperware of fresh pumpkin muffins on the counter and you tell him to help himself as you walk over to your kettle to brew some tea.

"Don't mind if I do." He says eagerly, taking off his Vans and dashing over to the countertop so he can unbox the muffins. You grab two large yellow camp mugs from your cupboard and set them down gently with a clink.

"What kind of tea do you like?" You list out your Trader Joe tea options and he settles on peppermint, while you decide to take camomile. He slouches into one of your kitchen chairs, watching as you open the tea bags and fill the kettle to the brim. You turn on the stove and watch as the blue flame of the burner ignites.

"Oh my God, Y/N. These are heaven." You turn to see Touya enjoying a muffin, biting into it joyously. "Did you bake these?"

"Yeah, I'm kind of a stress baker." You laugh, placing the tea bags into the mugs. "When I get stressed about work I take it out on the oven."

"I'd say you should just start taking it out by fucking me, but these muffins are way too good. I'd almost rather you use your stress to churn out stuff like this." He grins before stuffing the rest of the muffin into his mouth. He chews and swallows before saying, "Sorry - I forgot to eat dinner tonight and starving."

You smile at him warmly and reach into a cupboard for a small plate. You go back to the tupperware and scoop out a few muffins before bringing setting the full plate down in front of Touya. "Have as many as you want, I've made way too many for just me."

He looks up at you gratefully, a little starry eyed. "Thanks, sweetheart."

Oh.

So the pet names aren't just a sex thing!? You turn around to hide the blush that springs to your cheeks. It's funny - this guy just saw you butt naked and now you're trying to hide a little blush from him? Get it together, Y/N!

Touya digs into the feast of baked goods you've set before him and after a few moments, the kettle starts to sing. You shut off the stove and pour hot water into the mugs. Touya gratefully accepts the hot cup of peppermint tea, smiling up at you with crumbs on his face. You feel oh so domestic as you grab a napkin to wipe at the corners of his smile, and he pulls you into his lap to lavish you with a messy, crumbly kiss. You both laugh and it feels so soft and intimate and warm. The kitchen feels so cozy. And your heart feels all glowy and light in a way you haven't felt in a long, long time.

Thw two of you sip on your tea and nibble and chat. You talk about your jobs and your lives and he tells you stories about his tattoo apprenticeship and about his crazy big family. You cackle at his jokes and share tales of your wild friend group and their latest shenanigans. Before you know it, hours have gone by and you feel like you've known this guy for literal years.

When the tea is gone and the conversation has lapsed into comfortable silence, he gets to his feet and pulls you into another one of his soft, methodical kisses. You melt into him and ask him to please stay. Stay for the rest of the night, stay for however long he wants.

And he does.

You fuck him twice more in your bed before the sun rises. Turns out, he's a goddman dream with his tongue, and he spends an unholy amount of time between your legs, licking and sucking and pulling sounds out of you that you didn't know you could make. For round two you ride him, bouncing up and down on that gorgeous cock of his and making him see stars. He looks up at you with eyes full of fondness, and it feels like more than just a one night stand, right? He calls you sweetheart, gorgeous, baby...Within minutes you cum again hard, and so does he.

When you wake up a few hours later, the sun peaks through your velvet curtains and plays warmly against your skin. You realize warmly that you're wrapped up in Touya's muscular, ink covered arms. If you thought he looked good in the night, well...Daylight looks just as gorgeous on him. The light plays with his sharp features, illuminating his pale skin divinely. If you look closely enough, you can see the tiny flecks of white along his hairline where his roots are growing in. His thick eyelashes are fairly translucent, too. How did you not notice that last night?

He breathes deeply, his chest rising and falling methodically and lulling you back into a comfortable sleep.

He's still here. He stayed.

You hope that maybe he'll stay forever? Is that a silly thing to wish for?

You wake up an hour later to your phone buzzing on your night stand. You untangle yourself from Touya's arms and he mumbles a protest in his sleep. You scoot out from under him and reach for the phone, clicking it open to see an Uber alert.

You click open the app and scan through the message.

Your ride with Touya has ended. Do you want to tip your Uber Driver?

You smirk down at the text.

You tip him 30% and then climb back into Touya's embrace, letting yourself fall back into a warm, comfy sleep.

End.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author's Note

Hey!! It's me, hi, I'm the author it's me! I took a break for a few weeks to attend to some crazy events, travel and illness. But I'm back making my grand return! I hope you liked this little Touya AU. I was taking an hour long Uber ride back from work and thinking - what if the Uber driver was hot!? What if someone hooked up with their Driver and they fell in love!? Idk this def isn't written based on any personal experiences but I thought the concept could be kind of wild and I would absolutely fall head over heels if I had a simp Touya Todoroki as my driver.

I hope people like the portrayal of Touya here...usually I write him as more of a shit eating asshole. But I think that if he didn't have a quirk and grew up a little more well adjusted he'd be oozing confidence and lavishing his lovers with praise and attention. I think that this AU Touya has worked through his shit, is not in contact with his dad but is close with the rest of his family, is figuring things out on his own work wise and is fiercely independent. I also think that since he's worked through his trauma and anger in therapy he is super great at being open and vulnerable during intimacy. He's at that point in his healing journey.

Do I think that Reader and Touya work out? Yeah I do. I think they go on to date and compliment each other really well. The reader is a Corporate Girly™ and Touya is an artist and they balance each other well creatively, emotionally and physically. Obviously there would be things to figure out but I think these two could really grow together and support each other. So there you go - a dirty one night stand hookup story with a happy ending!!

Anyway, hope you enjoyed! More stories coming very soon :)

XOXO,

Red Riot Unbreakable Heart ❤️

P.S. Here's the 🔥Link to My Master List 🔥! I've published a lot of fun sexy Touya/Dabi stories lately and would love for you to take a look if you're interested! 😏

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ssahotchnerr · 1 year ago

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hi!!!! I love your writing so much and I'm not sure if you're taking requests, but I'm in the hospital at the moment and it isn't the best weekend of my life!! thinking about if reader got injured and aaron got the phone call that she was in hospital?? thank u!!!

collisions

:( i'm so sorry to hear that oh my gosh, i hope you're alright, recover quickly, and can leave hopefully soon <33 cw; car accident, description of injuries - reader is mildly hurt, anxious aaron

what started as a calm workday, changed with one phone call.

you had been in a multi-car accident, a string of rear-ended collisions, the slick roads all to blame. an ice storm had rattled the area unexpectedly, coating all roadways and making all driving conditions hazardous to the extreme.

aaron had been in the roundtable room with the team, debriefing, when his phone began buzzing, the vibration lightly shaking the surface of the table. caller id read the name of the local hospital, resulting in all color leaving his face. he got up so rapidly a few sheets of paperwork wafted to the floor.

deep in his gut, he immediately knew it had to be in regards to you. the feeling was too intense to be anything else, and god he hoped his intuition was wrong.

but just his luck, it wasn't; he didn't receive much information during the call, just that they were contacting him as your emergency contact, and that there had been an accident with you stuck in the middle. the state of your injuries, he didn't know.

by the time the call ended, dave had trailed out behind in concern, following with the simple instruction to 'go.'

the drive frustratedly and understandably took longer, all cars proceeding with caution. the pace only heightened his nerves; his knuckles were white from how tightly he was gripping onto the steering wheel, and when stalled within traffic, his wrist rest atop the wheel, his thumb rubbing against his index finger in his self-soothing manner.

if that wasn't enough, the foot not occupied by the gas and brake tapped in place, as if it would somehow speed things along. even during his drive he witnessed several cars nearly slide off the road, felt his own wheels yearn to move to their own accord at times. and each time, he imagined you and how you must've felt. the fear that must've filled you.

you had to be okay.

the prolonged drive also allowed, in his usual self deprecating fashion, much time for him to blame himself; he should've called and insisted you stay home the moment he heard the hard ice pattering against his office windows. he should've driven you himself. he should've done something. anything.

finally aaron arrived at the hospital, mindlessly flashing his fbi credentials at the first desk he found and mentioning your name, and how he had to see you. if showing his badge actually contributed to anything, he wasn't quite sure, he displayed it in an urgent panic, but he was quickly ushered to where you had been recovering.

when you were finally in view, could he finally breathe.

"thank god," he exhaled aloud in relief. you were sitting upright, responsive, chatting quietly with the nurse who had been doting on you.

"aaron," your eyes lit up, his name leaving you in a sigh.

the nurse informed him you had escaped with a mild concussion, a few bruised, but not broken, ribs. as they relayed the details, aaron silently thanked himself he had taken your car to get a tune up before the winter months released their wrath. if he hadn't, the outcome could've been horribly, horribly different.

"sweetheart." he grabbed onto your hands once the nurse left to attend to another patient, bringing the warmth back to them. he could feel the prick of tears behind his eyes, "are you in much pain?"

"i'm fine my love. jus' shaken up." you answered him, nodding your head in further reassurance, in hopes to relieve the distressed expression plastered on his face. but you immediately regretted the subtle movement, wincing heavily as pain tweaked within your ribs.

"don't move too much." his hands shot out to cup your face, his touch extremely tender and gentle, thumbs brushing against your cheeks. he couldn't help but exhale again, "fuck, i'm so glad you're okay."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x you

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vaguesxrrow · 7 months ago

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hii! i was wondering if i could request a Dean Winchester x reader with an established relationship, and i had this prompt in my head [could possibly be used as future inspo's for you fics too if you'd like :>]

basically, the relationship between them is pretty new, like only a month or two new, and reader has claustrophobia, but never told him or Sam.

and for a case, they have to go into an elevator, which is fine, and reader seems to do a good job at pretending it doesnt freak them out that they're in a convined space (elevator is pretty tiny, even for elevator standarts)

but then it suddenly stays still, and gets stuck bc of electrical issues.

so now they're stuck in an elevator for who knows how long, and reader tries their best to stay calm, but Dean knows better and now that the elevator is staying still he notices the microexpressions, the panic, the fear.

and its just super fluffy with him helping reader deal with it untill the elevator is back on track

thanks! and have a great day!

i lovee all your requests sm, especially bc they challenge me to write new things <33 i rlly like how this turned out so i hope u do to !

dean winchester / claustrophobic!reader

a/n: i have no personal experience with claustrophobia but i researched it as much as i could. however sorry if it still sounds unrealistic !

cws: panic attacks, claustrophobia

wc: 785

tags: gender neutral reader, hurt/comfort, fluff, humour

"can we even fit in there?" dean asked dubiously, clearly unimpressed at the elevator that stood before you. "i mean, this has gotta be a health hazard, man, cause what is this?" he banged the doors as he stepped inside.

"it's fine, dean, stop being dramatic." you rolled your eyes, trying to fight the wave of panic (or was that vomit?) rising up inside you.

not letting yourself think about it any further, you stepped in after dean. at first, you thought it was just your claustrophobia whispering how this elevator looked like a death trap. but then your (wonderful, by the way) boyfriend dean had pointed it out himself, and wasn't that just awesome?

you weren't irritated at him, but at the situation itself. you and dean had only been dating for a month, and definitely hadn't reached the 'divulge your deepest fears and secrets to each other' stage.

you could tell dean about your claustrophobia now, but what else was there to do? the stairs in this building had been destroyed by the vampires you knew nested on the top floor.

in conclusion, the elevator was the only way.

determined, you punched the button to the 17th floor. this was fine.

dean prattled on about the job. something about 4 vampires, killing 3 residents until the others had to evacuate...

suddenly, the elevator groaned to a stop, on the 10th floor. you hit the buttons again. god, it had been going so well.

"what happened?" you asked. the lights began to flicker. "is there a ghost here, too?"

both of you scanned the area as best as you could, having to shuffle around awkwardly to look at the whole area.

"nah," dean finally said. "probably just electrical issues."

you sighed. "it's gonna be humiliating calling sam to rescue us."

"tell me about it." dean rolled his eyes, even as he dialed his brother's number. "yeah, sammy, [name] and i got into a bit of a situation... no, dumbass, we're not dying-"

you forced a laugh at the boy's banter, even as the walls seemed to be closing in on you. breathe in and out, you chanted internally.

"-if you could just come get us..." dean glanced at you, pausing in surprise for a second. "hey, sammy, i gotta go, just get here as quick as you can, would ya?" he hung up, tucking his phone back into his pocket. you were too focused on keeping your emotions in check to notice dean had become alerted to your subtle panic, and was now giving you his full attention.

"you okay, [name]?" he asked.

you forced a teasing grin. "fine, just wishing i had some fresh air to get away from your stink."

"that's a smooth evasion if i've ever heard one, but it ain't gonna work on me, hot stuff." he wiped away a miniscule bead of sweat from your forehead. "literally."

you closed your eyes. he had clocked you - no point in keeping up the act now, even if it was embarrassing.

"can i touch you?"

you nodded. he put an arm around your shoulder, his other hand lightly grasping yours. he guided it to his chest where his heart was. "you feel my heartbeat?"

you murmured an affirmation.

"alright, it quickened a bit there, but that's the effect you have on me." he winked. "how fast is it? does it match the.. what was it, bpm, of any song?"

you shook your head at him in confusion. "what?"

"answer the question, [name]." he rolled his eyes, flushing slightly.

you furrowed your brow as you thought. "wanted dead or alive, bon jovi?"

he smirked. "awh, that's awesome. now you get to bear witness to my rendition of it."

that alone was so unexpected it startled a laugh out of you. "excuse me?"

he began swaying, jostling you in the process. "you heard me. i'm a cowboy, on a steel horse i riiide." he spun around, although it was more of an awkward twirl. "i'm wantedddd..." he held out both hands to you, tugging you close when you took them. "dead or aliiiveeee!"

you snorted loudly at his attempt to hold the last note, and yelped in surprise when the elevator lurched back into movement. dean's hug tightened, steadying you.

"i must be one hell of a singer if that was all it took to get the elevator sorted," he remarked, looking hilariously proud of himself.

"that's one way to put it." your previous panic and embarrassment had dissipated, leaving only gratitude for your boyfriend. "thanks."

he kissed you briefly. "no problem. but can you imagine the look on sammy's face when he gets here and we don't need help anymore? ha, imagine that!"

#dean winchester/reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester/you #dean winchester #supernatural x you #supernatural x reader #supernatural #spn x you #spn x reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn

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rifle-yes · 25 days ago

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normally I love getting emails from students telling me my class helped or came up in their life in some way - but the number of emails I've gotten from students over the years telling me they used the evac shopping list or the bug out bags we made in my geo hazards class is pretty horrific and the reason I'm going to gently poke you all and ask you:

how much drinkable water do you have on hand if your water stops working? (aim for 3 gallons per person per day)

do you have a physical copy of a map with at least two evacuation routes should internet or your phones not work?

how much food do you have that is non-perishable and easy to travel with and are the expiration dates still good? (2k calories per person per day)

do you have at least two flashlights with fresh batteries and replacement batteries?

do you have a pair of more rugged clothes you can easily grab that you know will fit you and be weather appropriate for the season?

do you have a carrier(s) that fits (all) your pet(s) comfortably for long periods of time?

do you have a bag set aside with a dental hygiene and standard hygiene items you could easily grab?

is your first aid kid freshly stocked with more than just bandaids and checked for expired items? are your prescription meds easy to get to and add to this if needed? do you have pain killers, tummy trouble pills, antihistamines, splints, ACE bandages, medical tape, & alcohol wipes (these are my most used items in the field)

where are your important papers (passports, insurance papers, proof of ownership, birth certificates, important photos, etc) and are they ready to travel if need be?

if you're in an area with cold temps do you have thermal blankets or normal ones?

do you have toilet paper and menstrual items? because restroom restocking/cleaning is not a priority for most places in a disaster situation and sometimes you don't even get the luxury of having a restroom.

do you have a back up power bank?

weird items you might not have in your go bag but might want to consider:

PPE eye covers like lab goggles or even swimmers goggles if you're in fire zone - it can help prevent eye irritation in smokey areas

DUCT TAPE. DUCT TAPE. DUCT TAPE. ADD IT TO YOUR BAG NOW.

disposable face masks - don't breathe in smoke

silverware/utensils - you can eat food right from a can but silverware takes up minimal space

headlamps like hikers/bikers/ya girl uses - SUPER USEFUL and it keeps your hands free

a whistle

solar power stations (I have a Jackery brand solar power station for the field and this thing is a work horse - 10/10 do recommend)

chemical cold packs/hot packs

pocket knife

cash (apple pay and cards aren't always accepted in emergencies)

barter items (cash isn't always accepted or useful in emergencies) like tiny airplane bottles of booze, big bottles of booze, cigarette packs, extra medical supplies, batteries, duct tape, toilet paper)

pashminas/scarves/shemagh - useful in more than one way

& a question people sometimes forget: can you easily lift and carry the bag that contains these items? a 75lb/45kg bag of gear will do you no good if you can't pick it up and take it with you in an emergency.

#rifle's fault #all of the continents used to be one body so you aren't ever alone

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sharpeagle-tech · 1 year ago

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hillbillyoracle · 1 month ago

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Preparing for a Winter Storm

I thought I'd share what I'm doing to prepare for the winter storm that's supposed to blow through on Sunday evening into Monday morning in case it's helpful to anyone. I know a few people got a lot out of my post on tornados and the first winter storm I went through on my own really rattled me so I hope it helps someone.

This wound up being longer than I thought it would be so TL;DR is stay warm, stock up on foods that don't require cooking, know when and how to bail.

The Challenges

Snow and ice cause different but related problems. The ice totals are what look more nasty for my particular area so that's what I'll be focusing on.

With ice there's some key issues I've experienced in the past:

Power Outages - this impacts all aspects of the home, lighting, cooking, hot air, hot water, communication, etc.

Cell Phone Outages - this can make getting help in an emergency very difficult, can make it difficult to search for information you need as well

Pipes Freeze and Burst - pretty self explanatory and also hell

Damage to Cars - tree limbs falling on it, ice can build up and cause issues if there are gaps that allow it to get into internal components, can cause damage to gas lines, driving in hazardous conditions can lead to a wreck, etc.

Trees Falling - Can fall on house, power lines, car, people, etc.

Power Outage Prep

Food

Stock up on foods that don't require any cooking at all. Try to get 3 days worth. I'm getting things like crackers, chips, Bobo's PB&Js, dried fruit, fruit pouches, and peanut butter. You might consider trail mix, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, clementines, etc.

Get paper plates and plastic utensils if you'll be using a back up cooking method. Cleaning becomes infinitely more onerous in a winter storm so it's best to limit it. I'll be using my rice cooker plugged into my Jackery as a backup cooking method. Back up to the backup is an alcohol stove - which you might be able to find for pretty cheap at a camping store. Propane camp stoves are another good option you can find in most Walmarts.

Have a plan for your fridge and freezer. People not infrequently wind up with food poisoning after a power outage because they try to eat food in their fridges and freezers that they shouldn't. USDA recommends you discard all food in the fridge if the power is off for more then 4 hours - this is with not opening the door. For you freezer, the recommendation is 48 hours (for a full freezer). If the temperatures allow for it, you can place your frozen goods outside.

Heat

Layer, layer, layer. Find all the warm clothes in your wardrobe and be prepared to layer up. Socks and hats are particularly important. You do not want to sweat though! If you start sweating take something off.

Blankets galore. Make sure you've got plenty of blankets. If you've got a decent sleeping bag, even better. You can use sheets to help trap a little more air around you like a tent.

Know the signs of cold exposure and know when to call for help. Cold exposure involves more than I can get into here but it's one of those things that can kill very quickly and in a way where people are often too far gone before they notice. Basically if you are cold and having trouble staying awake - call for help.

Know where your local shelters will be. Emergency departments often put this information out on Facebook and Twitter. You can also call the non-emergency line and ask in most places. Keep in mind many won't accept pets.

Grab a spare heater if you can and know how to use it safely. I live in an area where woodstoves are common but my place doesn't have one (yet) so I have a propane heater (you can grab small ones for apartments even). If you have a spare heater, be sure to grab fuel if you're able (tends to go fast). I also have an air quality detector which is extremely important. A lot of ice storm deaths are from people dying of monoxide (and similar) poisoning.

Hot water bottles are a godsend. If you live in an area with propane for hot water, then you'll likely still have it if the power goes out. When I was younger we got through 8 days of no power in the middle of winter in part because of hot water bottles specifically. They're so handy.

Keep a fire extinguisher handy. Even if you're not using a heater honestly.

Power

Charge batteries and battery banks. Pretty self explanatory. If you're able to grab even a cheap back up battery, I would. So many people in past ice storms sat on their phones, drained it of battery, then didn't have it to call for help when they needed it. Even a small boost could be good in an emergency.

Know where your electrical box is. Sometimes power outages can cause issues with breakers. Know where it is in case you need to turn things off or back on.

Have a radio. I mention this all the time. With no power your radio is your lifeline to public emergency broadcasts, weather forecasts, and locating resources. Get a radio. A cheap one is better than nothing.

Lighting

Charge flashlights. One thing a lot of people don't realize about power outages in winter is just how much we've come to rely on artificial light. Have backups to your back ups if possible. They're a safety tool.

Consider a solar light. My solar lantern has saved my ass so many times not it's not even funny. They tend to be very energy efficient - so easy to recharge off of a battery bank - but the you have the option of charging them slowly in the sun you get during the day.

Turn a small light into a lantern. I've used this trick so many times I almost forgot to include this. If you need to take a small light and make it more of an area light, fill a bottle (ideally plastic and 1L+) with water and place the light right on the bottle. This works great for headlamps especially. It'll cast the light like a lamp instead of focusing it on one area, making it easier to do chores and play games in the dark.

Chores to do before the storm:

Laundry

Shower

Dishes

Take out trash

Cell Phone/Internet Outage Prep

Write down important numbers somewhere that isn't your phone or laptop. If you run out of power on either, you still might be able to borrow someone else's phone and call.

If you're unfamiliar with your area, print or buy a map. In the event you need to leave, you need to know your way around enough to get where you're going.

If you have a ham radio license and gear, make sure it's charged and has local repeaters programmed in. Check to see if any will be running any weather nets you can monitor. If you don't have a license, you are technically allowed to transmit if you're experiencing a true emergency so if you have access to that gear also make sure it's charged and you have an idea of how you'd do that.

When the power goes out, use the phone as a phone only. Something I see every ice storm ever since smart phones took over, is people having nothing to do so they sit on their phones and drain it of battery. Or everyone overloads the cell towers and they go down. I am begging you, please, if the power goes out, do not use your phone for anything other than calling for help or checking in with neighbors and loved ones (once or twice a day).

Create an entertainment box. Grab an box. Put in things you can do with absolutely zero power. I recommend playing cards, puzzles, board games, books you might want to read, art supplies, TTRPG (there are solo ones). This way when you start to get the itch to check your phone, you know where to look instead. I know it seems simple but having it prepped ahead of time saves you a lot of brainpower (believe me).

Water + Pipes Freezing Prep

Leave facets dripping and cabinet doors open. Vital you do both. They help prevent your pipes from freezing and bursting.

Find out where your water shut off is. I just found out mine is underneath my house in the crawl space - hurrah for me. Most apartments have much more easily accessible shut offs. Even if you're not certain you can shut it off yourself, know where it is so you can save time and direct someone who can. In the event a pipe bursts, shut the water off immediately and do not turn on water in the house until a professional can service it.

Find a number of a well reviewed plumber (or two) ahead of time. Sometimes cell service and internet goes out. Consider having these written down somewhere other than your phone or computer ahead of time.

Find out how you can flush your toilet with no power. Most people can add water to the back of the tank and still flush. So if you still have water you're good. Some places require a pump that runs on electricity. So find out beforehand. During power outages my family adopts the "if it's yellow, let it mellow, if it's brown, send it down" toilet rule to conserve water.

Consider grabbing a backup toilet option. I keep a five gallon bucket and extra trash bags for just such an occasion (and some cedar chips to help with smell but it's not strictly speaking necessary). Separating liquids from solids also helps with smell. I do this because if a pipe bursts, there's a good shot you won't be able to use your toilet any more. This is also important if your toilet runs on an electric pump and the power goes out.

Damage to Cars

Keep your car filled up to at least a half a tank. This protects the fuel lines and gives you enough gas to get out if you need to.

If you'll be traveling during the storm, make sure you have a winter car kit in the vehicle and know how to flag for help if you get stranded. It's beyond what I can cover here but there are a ton of great articles out there.

Check your levels and make sure nothing is running too low.

Have the number of your mechanic written down somewhere that's not your phone or laptop. Pretty self explanatory.

Trees Falling

I'm gonna be honest, I don't have a lot for this one given my disabilities. I have a plan with my neighbors who are in a better position to use it. You could consider grabbing some extra tarps in the event that you need to cover a window that gets damaged or similar. Basically, just have an idea of where your most vulnerable trees are and keep an ear out for them as the storm progresses.

Hope these spark some ideas for how to prep and stay safe out there!

#weather #wx #preparedness #adulting #winter storm #happy to answer questions #as best I'm able

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vonev · 1 year ago

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Zombie apocalypse with Simon Riley

Sum: You finally meet your hot neighbor; albeit all it took was an apocalyptic disaster.

Oh my God, what the fuck?

“—reports states that an infectious zombie-like virus has begun to spread amongst multiple areas in the city—”

“—Please seek the nearest hazard shelter in your local area—”

A fucking zombie virus breakout is happening, in front of your lunch.

You'd never thought the national emergency alarms would ever blare during your lifespan, but you're here, a spoon full of egg drop soup in hand sitting across your TV and your mouth hung open as all your devices deafens the entire living room.

The telenovela you were watching was just getting so good too.

Immediately shooting your hand out to fetch your phone, scrambling for the national notification, horror dawns on you.

The fucking breakout is in my city.

Isn't it so lovely? On a random Tuesday afternoon in the middle of an approaching autumn.

What is it that they do in those zombie shows again...? Oh yeah, run.

Wait—no, no. Pack your shit then run.

So you did. Your feet working the fastest they've ever been scattering toward your bedroom to dig out the ancient duffel bag you've not touched in eons. Shoving essentials in there: tampons, pads, your Kindle (because God forbid an apocalypse stops you from finishing a book) and a couple of other things you think you'd need...a thong is one of them, right?

The loud alarms never stops, it only adds to your increasing anxiety threatening to bubble over and spill all over the floor; you didn't think they'd go on for so long, but they do, and honestly they sound fucking terrifying.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Think—

Wallet, passport (in case you wanted to fly over to Milan, you know.), all the money you had was stored inside the bank; speaking of, you wonder if anyone had started robbing stores yet after the alarms sounded.

Nope, can't think about that right now, because the more time you waste, the higher of a chance you'd end up having your face bitten off by some freaks—zombie or not. So you scramble once again, head full of doubts and worry; good thing you kept refraining yourself from ever getting a pet because holy shit having to sprint with a massive fluff ball in your arm would be the last thing you'd want to do.

Just then, screams started filling your ears; an indication that you spent too much time dwindling.

Looking down you scoff at your casual wear: a tank top that exposed too much and sweatpants. Making your way out along your bedroom you snatched a jacket you promised yourself you'd wash last week.

Good thing you didn't, I guess.

Stepping foot into the living room once more, your eyes dart around in a hurry, practically running into the kitchenette to grab canned foods and your leftovers from yesterday. It's just a sandwich, but it'll hopefully last until whenever you can finally eat again. You repeated the same conundrum with your bathroom, frantically pushing things aside with more things to make space for other things.

Alright, you think, that should be everything...

You even got that first-aid kit you bought from Amazon months ago, thinking that someday you'll need it.

Always trust your instincts.

With that, you waste no time scurrying to the front door, fitting yourself into a comfortable pair of shoes then fetching your keys from the bowl above the accent table you probably spent too much money on (they looked really cute) and inserting it into the lock, cursing yourself when you kept missing the keyhole. Eventually, you got it, and with too much brute force, you threw the door open and stepped out into the hall.

You wince from the loud banging sound of the door you pushed; to your right, your neighbor's door opens as you walk out.

Tilting your head, you see the neighbor casually fixing his shoes with absolutely no care regarding the current situation, a bag slung over his broad shoulder in contrast to you desperately holding onto your heavy duffel bag.

What the fuck is his deal? How is he so...calm?

You didn't realize it 'till now, but said neighbor turns his head toward you, and it's as if a lightbulb flare up in your head.

Oh.

He stares at you, unmoving with his hand still on the doorknob.

It's the hot neighbor.

What was his name again? Sam...Samuel...no, Semen...wait, definitely not.

Whatever. You'll call him Semen in your head, because you can't be bothered standing there to recall his name. Not while he's staring at you so intently, either—like you owed him something.

God, is he a sight to look at; full brows with lips looking so kissable with a cute pout, blonde strands covers his front as though he'd just woken up from the best nap of his life, the faint yet noticeable scars littered across his face so perfectly. Tall, mysterious and muscles that threatened the seams of the too-tight shirt he wore. Is he even aware?

And his eyes.

You can't even begin to mention the amount of times you'd shamefully indulged yourself with those eyes of his in your mind—sometimes, you dream of them too. Who could blame you though? Yeah, you definitely feel normal about him. You barely interacted with him, only ever seeing him the rare times he'd come home. You assumed he's ex-military or a military personnel on leave since he's been back home more than usual in the recent months. You wouldn't know, though, considering the most words you said to him was "hi" when he moved into his flat a year ago. That, and you're generally kinda afraid of strangers.

"D'ya have a staring problem?"

Right. You can't just stare at someone and not say anything, that's creepy.

"No," you shuffle on your feet a little. "Do you?"

He scoffs with a small shake of his head and closes the door behind him before walking away to the lift. Your brows furrowed, lips pursed, slung your duffel bag over your shoulder and chased after him. You both stood in front of the lift for a good (incredibly awkward) minute before the familiar ding sounded. Once inside the lift, you can't help but feel the unspoken tension rise as the two of you stood close to each other.

You swear he had his eyes on you for a moment, but you don't dare to call him out.

"...you come ‘round often?"

He snaps his gaze to you instantly.

Great. Your mouth has no filter whatsoever. Mentally slapping yourself, you open your mouth to whisper an apology; he beats you to it, though, a soft chuckle from him and it strikes into your heart like a stake.

"I live—lived here," crossing his arms, his eyes softened a little. "Just got discharged from the military a couple of months ago."

Bingo.

Silently patting your back in your head as you nod at his response and humming. "That's cool, what did you do for the military?" it may have been too much to pry, but it doesn't hurt; plus, it's pretty much the end of the world as you speak.

He stood there, completely rigid from top to bottom. The silence was deafening this time around, so much so that when the lift sounded once more with a loud ding, it made you flinch.

"What didn't I do for the military?"

That's...

"...is that rhetorical?" None of you walked out of the lift, just standing there in each other’s company. Oddly, you don’t mind it.

He shrugs, getting out of the tiny space—and you hadn’t realized you’d been holding in your breath when you finally exhaled through your teeth.

I guess I have my answer.

It doesn’t take long for you to catch up, nor for the two of you to realize what an utter mess the outside world had become when he opens the door.

People roamed about, running ‘round and tripping over each other and on top of each other, cooperating on wreaking absolute havoc on the streets. Lots of screaming, too much of it, in fact. Jogging down the stairs, someone almost bumps into your side, but not before he pulls them back with a frown on his face that had the poor guy screeching and scrambling away from his grip.

Oh, now come to think of it—

—“Hey what’s your n—“

A hoard of groans catches your attention, cutting your words short; you turn toward the source, squinting at the scene from afar. A group of people started dashing toward your way, their faces an evident blur of confusion, surprise and horror. It would make sense, because as they slowly get closer and closer, a giant figure gradually appears in your vision—and it looks fucking disfigured—like the textbook embodiment of an eldritch creature. Sure enough, it breaks out into a sprint, chasing down its next victim; pulling the back of an unfortunate businessman’s suit and it flung the man over its head. You can hear the poor man’s scream echo in your mind as you watch his body fall right into the creature’s mouth; next thing you know, his head snaps off in its jaw.

Your blood runs cold, the shock from seeing such a sight sends an unnerving terror through every nerve; your breathing gets heavier, beads of sweat breaking out from your skin—yet you can’t take your eyes off of it. Ever watched a car crash? Yeah, exactly that.

“Uh oh.”

You don’t know what to do; years and years of medical training in school hadn’t exactly prepared you for this situation, even if some of the things you’ve seen are horror beyond comprehension. Your body doesn’t cooperate with your commands no matter how hard you try; they’re stuck to the ground like glue, and as the horrid looking creature slowly bolts toward your way, the way you’ve become a mere spectator to your body should concern you, but your eyes are transfixed on that thing—

—it wasn’t until someone roughly tug your forearm that you realized you almost fucking killed yourself by standing still too long.

“Fuck, come on, let’s go.”

You should’ve probably questioned why he’s remained so calm despite the calamity surrounding him. It’s an admirable trait, really, a part of you wants to thank him profusely for not leaving you behind; in the span of time you spaced out, he could’ve easily gotten away in a fleet—like a gust of the wind, and you wouldn’t have noticed nor would you have blamed him. So much for being medically trained.

He ran, and you trailed right behind him. Even during such a dire moment of your life, you have to try your hardest to not get distracted with the way his muscles contract as he swiftly moves along with the breeze. No time for thirsting, you stare at his arms, how they effortlessly flex with each step, Okay, maybe a little bit of thirsting.

You’ve no idea how long you both ran; doing your best to dodge every obstacle lunged into your face, but with the soreness slowly creeping up your soles, you wonder if you could keep up—Semen, on the other hand, is doing just fine. Just keep pushing, after all, how hard is it to run forever? Super fucking hard apparently; unfortunate for you, the conveniently placed fallen pipe on the ground became your nemesis as you missed a jump and fall on your fucking face. Your duffel bag cushioning only your left arm, body absorbing all the impact from the fall.

Ouch! wouldn’t even describe the pain you were feeling. You might have a broken nose because it sure fucking feels like it.

Semen immediately halts, his head snaps back as if his gut instinct told him you stumbled and fell. He’d be correct; attempting to get on your elbows can only get you so far, your adrenaline runs out too quickly—and suddenly it feels as though your body has been lit on fire. Well, you’re being dramatic, but your ankle sure doesn’t feel fine like it did a minute ago. You try to stand up, and Semen crouches down in front of you with his hands extending out to help you up; but the harder he pulls the worse you cry out. When you try to move your right ankle it just fucking hurts like a bitch.

This is it, you think; your breath coming out haggard and harsh, I’m gonna fucking die.

“Just—go, just go, I think I sprained my ankle,” holding back furious tears, you sniffle. “Leave me and run, it’s okay.” God, was it ever this hard to let someone go? Even if the selfish part of you wants him to stay. He mumbles something incoherent under his breath, people and vehicles running by your bodies and their cries fill the void in your head—not their fault they prioritize their lives over yours—but it still stings your eyes to think about. People really do show their true colors in the most desperate times.

He reaches over, and you almost swatted his arms away—his stern gaze told you to stop, and you did.

Flipping you over in an instant, his arms hook under your back and knees, hoisting you into his arms as though you weighed nothing. In a feat of panic, you push against his chest; you can’t stress how much you’d rather not be the reason he’s held back and be killed for it. He sends you a final warning look; a stare so chilling it had you reeling back your arms into your chest and obediently lay against his.

Impressively, he maneuvers around everyone else with ease, dodging and zig-zagging, only bumping a few shoulders here and there. Worry clouds your head; what if he trips? Or better yet, what if he realized you’re not much of use and dumped you on the streets? It’s absurd you’d even have the luxury to overthink while he’s busting his ass to save both of your lifes—how the fuck are you supposed to make up to that? You can’t bake him your infamous croissants (you’ve mastered the craft), you doubt appliances are as convenient in the wild as it is in homes—you hope he’ll find a place to hide soon; he can’t run infinitely.

Maybe you should stop thinking too much useless shit and start strategizing instead.

Okay, it should be easy; your eyes frantically search the surrounding area: the alleyway? No, way too risky. Run into one of the homes? Still risky, and those nasty creatures were breaking into them from what you saw last. Fuck, you wish you’d bought that expensive ass car few weeks ago when it was on sale, then again, who knew you would require it so soon? Wait, did he have a car? You don’t think so, his designated parking slot has been empty since forever.

As he kept sprinting on, you noticed more and more of those zombies started pouring in from multiple angles—it would be harder and harder to avoid their attacks; you try not to dwell on the gruesome sights of people being mauled down the streets. Out of nowhere, a mangled arm lunged at you, though he swerved just in time to avoid; you didn’t even have time to register what occurred until you blinked again.

“Was that—holy fuck,” your body involuntarily shivers at how close you were to dying right then; all his efforts would’ve gone to waste. It served as a reminder that death is now only a mere hand reach; one wrong breath and say bye-bye to your life.

Mortality is such a fragile thing.

At least you don’t have a family making you worry to death about, just good ol’ you—always been you.

Does he? Eyes drifting over to his face, you trace the scars on his neck with an invisible hand. You’d have to play 21 questions with him later, if there’s a later. Seeing how things are moving, you’re slowly coming to terms with the concept of death; for some odd reason, you just know he’d keep you alive as long as he can—you will too, with him. God, you grunt, this feels so sappy. You have to constantly remind yourself that you’ve known your neighbor properly for less than an hour; don’t get too attached. It only ever comes back to bite your ass.

In your peripheral you notice a sluggish zombie digging into the driver’s side of a sizable car through the broken window—blood splatters the inside of the car’s windshield as the zombie dives further in. The car is alive, tugging at his shirt, you hastily gesture toward the spot with a shaky finger. Peering up, you don’t miss the way his brows knit together and how his lips are pulled into a thin line—he understood soon afterward; and switched his path to match the direction of the vehicle.

He’d have to fight with the obscene thing for it, but it’s worth a try, even with you in his arms.

Approaching it, he doesn’t hesitate to kick a leg up to hook it under the weighted zombie and throw him down to the biting asphalt; just as it was about to spring up—he stomps a leg over its head without a hitch. Oh my fucking God, excuse your blasphemy, that’s the brain matter. You would know how a human’s brain looked; with countless hours spent plastering your head onto your textbook about How To Surgically Remove a Brain for Dummies the image practically tattooed itself on your mind. It’s never a good view, the textbooks can’t accurately reinvent the feeling of disgusting sliminess into their pages after all.

Your knight in shining armor doesn’t prolong his luck; throwing the driver’s door open, he ducked his head into the driver’s seat (not before chucking the dead body laid in the seat out), sliding you into the passenger side; you have to awkwardly make fit for yourself in the seat as he rushed into his side and pressed down on the brake, slamming his door closed. There was no time to relax, though, upon seeing him toy with the car, people started piling over the trunk, clawing at the metal slate with their bloodied nails as more zombies lurked closer—few unlucky numbers were dragged away from the car, leaving a myriad of gory handprints behind on the trunk.

He grits his teeth, he holds an arm out in front of you; confused, you turned to him as he slammed down on the acceleration.

“Oof—” That’ll knock the wind out of you.

It’s proven to be challenging for him to drive down a road filled with civilians; but soon enough, people started parting ways for him and a few other vehicles to pass through, afraid of being hit by a car.

“Buckle up, love.”

Huh? Love?

On the outside, you’re as calm and cool as you can be: you know, in a zombie apocalypse with your handsome neighbor driving you to (hopefully) safety; the inside…it feels as though your heart soared into the sky—you know it wasn’t meant to be flirtatious, but damn it, a girl can dream. Scrambling your hands to reach for the seatbelt, you grimaced at the sight of gooey matter dotting its material, you buckled up anyway; better safe than sorry. And because he asked so nicely, your heart flutters once more.

He drove on for quite a while, managing to duck and swerve others on the road (albeit with a lot of trouble) and eventually reaching the highways—not that it was far, but you’ve never exactly drove, or been outside your little area. Why would you need to? Everything you’d ever need was there: a delicious shawarma shop across from your flat, embroidery store…in case you needed some embroidering done, a family-owned Indian restaurant that served the best naan and dal—point is, you’ve pretty much got everything covered in your small area.

But why do you feel like you’re missing something…

…your fucking duffel bag.

Everything was in there—your ID’s, necessities, your fucking family photo back when you were a baby; it all holds importance to you one way or another—

—and they’re gone.

Slumped against your seat, you hadn’t even realized your shoulders started convulsing until teardrops fell on your curled fists in your lap. How could you be so fucking careless? Tilting your head down, your hands fly up to rub away stray tears that can’t seem to stop falling from your eyes regardless of your effort; you hope he hasn’t noticed (he did, eyes squinting in worry and unsure) because you seem pretty fucking pathetic right now.

(He doesn’t mind, he’s more worried your tears will drown the both of you before getting to the motel)

“We’re,” for some reason, words get caught in his throat—congealed, like an immovable lump—watching you silently sob to yourself from the side. "We're going to a motel."

He shouldn’t care; he doesn’t know why he does, especially since you’re still a stranger (that he saved, again, he’s not sure why) he coincidentally shared a hallway with for about a year; he barely knew you, either, only knowing you by name because he had seen it stamped on a few mails that fell from your mailbox. He also knows that you bake, a lot, often times the smell would traverse through the small cracks underneath his door and reach his senses—he’d debate knocking on your door each time, he wouldn’t know what to say though: “I smelled your baking, they smell amazing, can I take the whole thing?” or “‘Aye you’re actually kinda fuckin’ cute.”

Yeah, he’s not too good at conversing with strangers either, especially a cute one like you.

And now that you’re sitting right next to him, shoulders no longer heaving as he keeps driving down the vast highway, he’s not so sure what the next move should be. A couple of quick glances let him know that somewhere along the way, you had fallen asleep, head lolled against the window, your chest rising and falling with a silent rhythm. The sun is setting, the warm glow casts down on your figure—you look like an angel.

He wouldn’t admit it out loud, of course—but deep down, he knows he’ll keep that image of you and engrave it into the back of his head.

And he knows just the place to take you to.

#angst #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod mwii #ghost cod #simon riley #ghost x you #apocalypse #zombie apocalypse #im having a brainrot yet again #they should kiss kiss fall in love #simon riley x you #ghost call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty

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writing-for-marvel · 1 year ago

Text

Quarantine

[He’s Hazardous To My Health Series]

Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x Resident!Fem!Reader

< < PART 7 | Series Masterlist

Summary: When you get sick at work, Bucky ensures you’re well taken care of.

Warnings: strictly 18+ due to the AU, reader gets sick at work and collapses, Bucky being worried and an absolute sweetheart while taking care of her

Word count: 1.3k (I know this is just a short one but my plan for the next part is quite long)

A/N: so I’ve been sick in bed all this week with covid and the only thing I’ve wanted is Bucky taking care of me. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

Main Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Taglist | Library

Bucky takes the stairs two at a time.

He’s treated many patients in the field who have tripped on steps doing exactly what he is right now, but he doesn’t care.

All he cares about is getting to you.

Bursting out of the stairwell at level two, Bucky searches for the room Wanda quoted to him over the phone. He’s never been to this area of the hospital before, all the corridors and nurses stations look the same, but as soon as he spots her characteristic red hair, he feels respite from the anxious constriction in his chest.

Wanda thanks him for coming so quickly, as if the news that you were ill, collapsed during a shift and now in a hospital bed of your own didn’t send him into a panic and have him rushing here like his life depended on it, before guiding him to where you are.

The room is dark, curtains pulled all the way over the spacious windows, and serenely quiet other than the whizzing mechanical sound coming from the infusion pump connected to the IV inserted in your arm.

You groan when you recognise that it’s Wanda and Bucky who have entered the room.

“Wan, you didn’t have to call him.” Bucky can immediately tell, just by the sound of your unusually hoarse voice, that you’re clearly not well.

“He’s your emergency contact and you are in no state to work nor drive yourself home, so yes, I did have to call him.” Wanda proclaims in a stern, slightly exasperated tone which indicates to Bucky she likely had this same conversation with you multiple times before he arrived.

“Bucky, I’m okay, you don’t have to be here.” You try convincing him, though you’re not very compelling when your sentence ends with a hearty coughing fit.

“If you were fine you wouldn’t be lying in a hospital bed coughing up your lungs.” Bucky comments as he makes his way over to beside your bed. You look completely fatigued, struggling to even keep your eyes open.

Bucky’s never seen you look weak before, and the clench of his heart at the sight strongly suggests he doesn’t like it one bit.

“I just need a little rest and some IV fluids, then I’ll be fine to go back to work.” Your words almost sound comical with how raspy and fragile your voice is, but Bucky knows your insistence is a testament to your dedication to your job. “There’s really no reason to be worried.”

“I’m always worried about you.” Bucky mentions in a low tone, for your ears only, before placing a gentle kiss to your burning hot forehead. He takes your hand, your skin clammy against his. “Baby you can’t treat patients when you’re like this, you’re at risk of infecting them. Let me take you home.”

You concede as you lift yourself onto your forearms, sitting up in the bed, not without a dry cough being forced from your lungs by the effort. Bucky winces in response to the gravelly sound and the pain twisting in your face.

He wishes he could take it all away. All your suffering, all the sickness. On the job, Bucky is always able to provide assistance - relief from pain, to reduce bleeding, to ease anxiety. But for the one person in this world he cares about the most, he’s subjected to watching her suffer.

“Could you help please?” Holding out your hand where the catheter for your IV is inserted, you look up at him with helpless, wide eyes which makes Bucky smile and his heart flutter in his chest. It’s always nice to be needed.

Sanitising his hands and pulling on latex gloves, he places a sweet kiss to your knuckles before working to remove the IV, aware of your gaze on his every move.

“There you go darling, all done.” Bucky declares with a kiss to your nose, keeping pressure on your hand with his thumb to stop any bleeding before being able to tape a cotton round to it. “Ready to go home?”

“With you, always.”

Bucky protectively keeps his arm around you the entire way down to the staff parking until buckling you in the passenger seat of your own car, cautious knowing you had a moment of lightheadedness earlier today.

You rest your head against the side window, arms curled around yourself as Bucky begins the short drive to your place, turning the heating up to ensure you don’t get cold now that you are out from under the blankets Wanda had acquired for you.

“So… you made me your emergency contact.” Bucky broaches, having previously been unaware of this fact. He contemplated the reason Wanda called him today is because she knows the two of you are in a relationship, but warmth blooms in his chest at the notion you have officially designated him as the person you want to be contacted in a crisis.

“I changed it about a week ago. It was my mom, but she lives out of state… and I thought you’d probably want to know if something terrible happens to me.” It is probably such a minor thing in a normal relationship, just something which sits unutilised in an employee file, but to Bucky, who works in a profession where emergency contacts are critically important, it feels like an honour bestowed upon him to be appointed as yours. “Is that okay?”

“More than okay, darling.” Bucky smiles as the hand he is not using on the steering wheel comes to rest on your thigh, squeezing gently. “If anything happens to you, I wanna be the first to know, good and bad.”

With a snuffle of your nose and the best smile you can muster given your current energy levels, you interlace your hand with his and say “you’re always the first person I want to tell every piece of good news to, Bucky.”

When you arrive home, the first thing Bucky does is lead you straight to bed and tuck you in with two different blankets and the stuffie he won you during your date to the local carnival which visited town last week.

He gathers all the supplies you’ll need for the rest of the afternoon - cold and flu tablets, a water bottle, tissues and throat lozenges, making sure they’re all within reach of your place in bed. Bucky gently washes your feverishly warm face with a cool, damp face cloth, and insists you take a drink of water to prevent from becoming dehydrated.

Then, when you start to say goodbye, for whatever reason thinking Bucky is going to leave you here to be sick on your own, he pulls his Henley off, and climbs into bed behind you.

“No, Bucky…” You whine, feebly attempting to push him away from lying beside you in bed, which is a new and strange experience for Bucky.

“I think the fever has made you delirious, darling.” Bucky chuckles, taking your hand against his bare chest and covering it with his own as he snuggles even closer next to you.

“You’re gonna get sick too if you stay.” Bucky kisses your chapped lips, to prove that he’s not afraid of being with you whilst you're unwell.

“Baby, I had my tongue down your throat last night. If you’re already sick, I’m bound to get sick too.” Even if he weren’t already fated to contract the same illness as you, he’d take that risk just to fall asleep beside you.

You provide no more protest, surrendering to Bucky’s warm embrace and quickly falling into a deep, recuperative sleep. Bucky watches as your chest rises and falls, treasuring every moment he gets to spend by the side of the woman he loves, even if you are slightly sweaty and phlegmy.

When you both wake the following morning, still tangled in each other, you have matching runny noses, sore throats and dry coughs. The following week is destined to be spent curled up in bed together and taking care of one another. At least you don’t have to suffer alone.

Part nine coming soon

Be added to the taglist here

He’s Hazardous To My Health [Paramedic!Bucky Barnes] Taglist: @lavenderpenumbra @crazyunsexycool @eralen @buckbuckyoongs @blackwidownat2814 @crayongirl-linz @ozwriterchick @desert-fern @misshale21 @chalesleclerc164 @rookthorne @janineb86 @emmabarnes @scarletbich @princezzjasmine @thebuckybarnesvault @doasyoudesireandlive @solitarioslilium @iamfandomwasted @tanyaspartak @pop-rocks-818 @dumdidditydumdoo @missvelvetsstuff @kayden666 @amiimar @katheryn1 @safew0rd @kentokaze @thewackywriter @lady-loki-barnes-djarin @badasswlthafatass @loveoldmenlikelana @00cmh @pointless-girl @honeyglee @nerdxacid @ashhsage @prettylittlepluviophile @otomefromtheheart @sjsmith56 @mandijo17 @lokidokieokie @oceansandblackhearts @rebeccapineapple @soorwellystan @excusememrbarnes @lofaewrites @snapcapquartet

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capricornlevi · 1 year ago

Text

on the edge of a blunt knife

mid-shibuuya incident, nanami decides he needs some serious stress relief

(wc 2.9k, 18+ mdni. cw rough (but v consensual) sex, semi public sex, cursed energy as sexual tension lol, no gendered pronouns but reader has a vagina)

Nanami: Need you to come here.

Nanami: {location shared}

Nanami: As soon as possible.

You blink down at your phone once, twice, three times, still unsure whether or not you actually understand the texts that are displayed clearly on the screen.

His directions are straightforward – blunt, even. It’s not that you don’t understand what’s being asked of you.

It’s just that you don’t understand why he would send texts like those; completely out of the blue, you can’t even guess the context. You haven’t heard from him for three days now.

For the past year or so, your relationship with Nanami Kento has been casual – in the most extreme sense of the word. A few hook-ups at his place, even more at your own, twice in a hotel he was staying in for ‘business’. You’ve met for coffee, shared some meals, never so much as toeing the line of anything more committed.

Sure, you know certain things about him, have garnered some understanding of his personality, but there’s so much you don’t know. More than you’d care to admit.

You’ve never actually asked him what he does for a living, for one thing.

You’ve caught glimpses of enough blood-soaked shirts to hazard a guess that it’s something sketchy, which does make it easier to avoid asking questions.

Still, he’s not your boyfriend. You don’t care what he does as long as you don’t get dragged into it. It actually helps things, you think, this barrier between the two of you, keeping either one from getting too attached.

But these unprompted texts, this uncharacteristic urgency … it all makes you deeply uneasy. As you reread them for the fifth time, your gut twists with a sense of foreboding.

... and perhaps the tiniest hint of anticipation.

Still wanting to cover your bases before diving into the unknown, you type up a quick response.

You: Is it safe?

You don’t have to wait long before your phone buzzes in your hand.

Nanami: For you, yes.

The location pin he dropped you is based in a metro tunnel just outside of Shibuya.

It’s dark out, you’re not familiar with the area, the October air is bitterly cold. There are a thousand reasons for you to stay home and wait until Nanami just comes over to yours as he usually does.

The other side of the argument has far fewer points in its favour.

But against all logic you slip on a jacket, shoving your phone into your pocket as your apartment door slams shut behind you.

___

The journey is unusually quick. Glancing at every side street as you pass them by, you see they’re all virtually abandoned, with no traffic to hold you up at the street crossings.

You shrug it off; it has no connection to your meeting with Nanami, so why waste time worrying about it?

However, your concern only deepens when you arrive at the metro station. On a night like tonight it should be bustling, packed with crowds of partygoers and drunken salarymen singing the wrong lyrics to pop songs, but as you slowly descend the concrete steps, you soon realise that there’s not a single soul waiting by the platform.

It’s quiet, too. Eerily so. All you can hear is the low drip-drip-dripping of rain trickling onto the tile from the grates above, mixed with the occasional screech of the tracks. It’s cold down here, smells of damp and stagnant water, and you can't see Nanami anywhere.

You wait, but no trains appear.

The air is heavy with mist, even underground. You hug your arms to your chest to keep warm.

You’re just about to reach for your phone to text Nanami, demanding to know what the hell is going on and why he’s dragged you into it, but before you can do so, you’re distracted by the sensation of a strong hand on your shoulder.

You nearly choke out a scream when you��re the grip on your shoulder releases, the person pulling you in by the waist instead.

Nanami.

Though you held off on screaming before, you want to shout at him for startling you anyway, for giving you the fright of your life for no good reason.

However, as your mouth opens, you find yourself unable to do so.

For just a moment, you forget about how insane this all is; how he’s dragged you to an abandoned metro platform in the dead of night, with all sorts of other weird, unexplained shit happening just a few feet above your heads. Without a word of explanation as to what he needs from you.

You forget about it all, instead letting yourself get lost in the feeling of being pressed up against his chest.

The only thing to cut through your hazy train of thought is when you see –

“You’re hurt,” you murmur, lifting a hand to ghost your fingers over the scrapes on his face.

“Not very.”

“How did you – what is – what happened?”

“It's a long, long story,” he answers softly, gentle despite the strength of his touch, the protectiveness in how he holds you against him. “Too long to tell in one sitting.”

“Then why did you bring me here?”

Nanami doesn’t answer at first. He takes a hand and tilts your chin so that you have no choice but to meet his eye, to watch as he scans your face, lingering on your lips.

“Remember New Year’s?”

Now it’s your turn to pause, brain processing the hidden meaning buried in his words.

This past New Year’s was the only other time Nanami had visited you in a state like this; exhausted, injured, but bursting with a sort of power and intensity you couldn’t begin to understand.

He put it down to adrenaline, a busy day at work leaving him pent up, but you knew there was something more to it. He crackled with an energy that you had never seen before. Something about him felt electric, a live wire, you could almost feel it against your fingertips as you ran your hands over his muscled chest that night, taking it all in.

He came to you needing relief. It was an unspoken request that you happily answered; perhaps the energy he emanated during that visit was infectious.

After he called to your apartment that night, you didn’t leave your bed for the better part of three days. Relief was all he sought, but it was never enough until he has burnt the last bit of energy from his body. It took time.

Now, he searches your face for signs of recognition, any indication that you know what he’s asking of you.

You know he would respect your answer if you refused, if you got the hell out of this dingy tunnel and ran back to the safety of your apartment. He would never bring it up again.

It would be so easy to refuse, to turn around and take the more sensible option.

But the only issue is that you really, really don’t want to.

“I remember.”

The tiniest crack appears in Nanami’s facade – his jaw tightens, the sharp angles of his features looking almost pained.

“You do?”

Your nod confirms it.

“So you know what I’m asking of you?” he elaborates carefully, grip tightening in the fabric of your jacket.

“Yes. And yes,” you hastily add, sensing his follow-up question. “I want to.”

At that, Nanami lets go of your waist, lifting his hands to fist in your hair as he drags you in for a crushing kiss.

He kisses you so hard it almost hurts but you give as good as you take, dragging your teeth against his bottom lip to the point it could nearly draw blood.

It’s messier than it’s been before, even more so than New Year’s. You gasp into his mouth as he keeps you flush against him with one arm, barely able to take a breath before he slips his tongue against yours, ravenous in the way he’s capturing your mouth with his.

He mumbles something against your lips, utterly incoherent, and you don’t bother asking him to repeat it.

He kisses you, running his hands over your body as though he’s never had the chance to do it before now, mapping every inch of your frame even over your clothes.

Soon you’re being guided away to somewhere more private – a nearby bathroom, just as abandoned as the rest of the platform, a place where he can take what he needs for as long as he needs it.

You watch silently as he leads you there, feeling that energy radiate from his palm to yours.

Inside the bathroom, you see that only one of the lightbulbs is still working; this bathes the room in a warm, dim light, a glow that’s just enough for you to see the transformed expression on Nanami’s face.

Your breath catches.

In almost any other setting, he’s the picture of control. He’s polite, reserved, and keeps his emotions well-guarded from the outside world, never showing his secrets of vulnerabilities to anyone.

But when this sensation overcomes him, his face twists into something unrecognisable. Hungry, primal, something that would send a bolt of fear through you if you hadn’t experienced something like this before; now, you find yourself wanting to spur it on.

Before he loses himself in it, you take the chance to start undressing, your clothes dropping to the floor as your mind starts to swim with thoughts of what will happen next, what you know he is capable of doing with those hands.

His eyes darken until they’re almost black as you bare yourself in front of him.

Back home in the safety of either of your apartments, this would undoubtedly take a lot longer. He’d use his mouth on you until your cries of his name disrupted your neighbours. You’d take him in your hand and stroke slowly, meanly, building him up to the edge until his knuckles turn white and broken swears echo around the room.

That sense of languidity is gone now. It’s urgent, both of you needing this as much as you do oxygen, fearing you’ll die without it, and so you waste no time in bending over the sink and looking up at the mirror to meet his eye in the reflection.

Here you are, in public, where anyone could just walk in off the street and see you bending over for him, completely soaked and utterly shameless – though for some reason, you’re almost certain you’re not going to be interrupted.

Nanami unbuttons his shirt, revealing the pinks and reds of bruises blossoming on his skin. Your brow furrows; somewhere in your pleasure-addled mind you think to ask him about it, press him on the cause of his injuries … on what he’s gotten himself into …

But once his hands reach for his belt, you refocus your attention on gripping the sink’s countertop to prepare yourself.

He won’t hold back. One word from you and he’ll stop, but until that word is said then he will be merciless.

He tosses the belt to the floor and undoes his suit pants, stroking himself slowly.

You look to the mirror; a short nod, you skin already prickling with goosebumps, and you’ve started something you don’t know how to finish.

He takes your ass in his hands and squeezes, spreading you open and running his length up and down, the reflection of him mumbling something to himself as he stares, transfixed at the sight of your folds ready to suck him in without so much as being touched yet.

His throat bobs, a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead glistening under the low light; he slips inside with one smooth thrust.

Your spine arches as you take all eight inches of him, thicker than anything you’ve had before, pressing in at such an angle that you worry it will render you a babbling mess before the hour is out.

Already his name is spilling from your lips, voice breaking at the crescendo of each thrust, gasping for air as though he’s somehow hitting your lungs. You feel the fabric of his pants against the backs of your thighs as he fucks you half-clothed, too desperate to feel you wrapped around his cock to even fully undress.

It’s full, it’s a lot, but it doesn’t hurt – it never does. It’s why you think this … thing, this state that takes over him, that it has some sort of transferable nature to it. You need this relief just as badly as he does.

You feel the fingers of Nanami’s right hand fist in your hair, pulling you back to keep your eyes fixed on the mirror. The left stays gripping your waist, pulling your body back against him to meet the snap of his hips.

You let out a breathless giggle which only serves to spur him on further; a tug at your hair prompts a pathetic-sounding mewl of pleasure to take its place, his hold on you as unmovable as it is possessive.

It makes no sense for you to enjoy that feeling so much, to enjoy being his when you can count on one hand the concrete facts you know about this man.

You’re not thinking straight, though, not when you’re being bounced on his cock like this, no coherent thought staying in your brain for longer than three seconds. You gush around him, wet and lewd sounds bouncing off the tiled walls of the bathroom.

The mirror is blurry with condensation from the mist and the once-cool air, but you can still make out the sight of Nanami holding your hair tight in his fist, the veins in his hand prominent as he speeds up his movements.

He pauses only to help you hike your knee up against the counter. Once stable, he’s back inside you again, telling you how good you’re taking him, how you’re the only person he needs for this, leaning down and pulling your hair back up so he can press a kiss to the nape of your neck.

You, on the other hand, are far less talkative. The change in angle is hitting that spot in your core that has you fluttering around him already, short little half-groans catching in your throat and dying before you can even breathe them out.

The feeling of being wanted by him, of being the one who he seeks out to help with this ache, it is something you struggle to put into words.

He’s so powerful, but you are too. It’s how he knows you’re perfect for this – he told you as much last time, when he thought you were too fucked-out to even comprehend what he was saying.

His gaze meets yours again and you marvel at how he maintains such a solid grip in your hair, never slipping even as his rhythm turns more erratic and uncontrolled.

He seems to enjoy having you in his grasp, his lower lip bitten between his teeth as he holds you, adjusting the position when he needs to. His thumb smoothes soothing circles against your skin, a pleasant contrast to the unrelenting sensation of being filled.

This is a side of him only you can see.

It's so good, teetering dangerously close to being so good that you're ruined for anyone else, unable to take anything inside you that isn't Nanami's cock.

You feel yourself burning, that familiar heat starting to coil in your lower stomach, your limbs starting to lose strength as you brace yourself for the waves to wash over.

Nanami keeps you steady, never faltering as he fucks you through it.

You gasp, clenching around him as it bursts within you, spreading like wildfire through every nerve in your body. Your body trembles beneath him and he slows mercifully. He moves slowly, careful not to overstimulate you too soon, waiting for the waves to subside before he fucks into you again, chasing his own pleasure with the closest thing to a clear mind he can hope to have in this situation.

It doesn’t take long for him to follow you over the edge, spilling over the small of your back with a gutteral moan that makes you clench around nothing, only releasing his hold on your hair and waist once the rise and fall of his chest has steadied.

Sweaty and boneless and satisfied, you wait as he cleans you off before turning to him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Did it help?” you ask quietly, knowing he’ll understand.

His lips curl slightly, the divot in his brow having disappeared – the edge has been taken off momentarily. “Yes.”

His pupils are still blown out, though, and his demeanour tells you there’s more to come.

“Is this … is what’s happening outside … is it over?”

He shakes his head once, twice. “No.”

He reaches for his pocket, fishing out a silver keychain which he immediately presses into your palm.

“Go to my place. Go there and stay there, and don’t open the door for anyone but me.”

You take the key, cold against your clammy skin, and look up to him again.

“You’ll come back later?”

“I’ll come back later,” he replies immediately, pressing a chaste kiss against your forehead while running a hand through his own hair. “Just wait there for a bit.”

Though still in the dark, you figure that it just might be worth the wait.

#nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #i am not immune to shibuuya arc nanami #doing backflips on it etc

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