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le-fruit-de-la-passion · 2 years ago

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The Broken Window - Chapter 1 - Dabi x Reader (Explicit)

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You didn't really think you could outrun a deal with the Devil, did you?

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You were running.

You were running, and running, and running, but it didn't matter. They were right behind you like hunting dogs after their prey, their hands clawing at your ankles. Were you in the city or the wild? The pure darkness that surrounded you didn't answer. You knew soon, there would be nowhere left to run to.

A hand grabbed you by the foot, and you fell face-first into the nothingness. They were all over your body now, suffocating you, burying you deeper into the void, the sound of your own heart maddening inside your head. You tried to breathe, but you couldn't, you couldn't, and a hand wormed its way inside your chest as it tore through your muscles and bones to toy with your insides. You could feel it, deep inside you, ready to grab onto your lungs and squeeze every inch of air out of them like they promised you they would, and then-

And then, you woke up.

It took you a few seconds to realize you were in your room, safe, whole. You felt your arm shake as you put your hand against your chest, feeling the smooth skin and the presence of the trashing heart under it. It was still there.

You absentmindedly wiped your eyes, unshed tears and overwhelming fatigue making your sight blurry. The bed creaked as you got up, the cold tiles on the floor grounding as you made your way to the bathroom. Were you ever going to sleep peacefully again?

The old faucet hesitated before spewing out some freezing water, and you promptly splashed it over your face, hoping to no avail it would make you feel alive again. You glanced in the mirror, and like every day since you'd started living here, you wondered who the person looking back could be.

She looked nothing like you. Her hair was dyed and cut, her clothes baggy to keep her frame hidden, the eyes you used to carefully apply makeup to every morning dark and reddened by the contacts you even wore in bed out of fear. Where you had been joyful and witty, she was nothing more than a shadow people would pass by without noticing. And that's what you needed her to be.

The men after you were much more than the tormentors in your dreams. Even a child could tell you the yakuza was not to be trifled with, that all those who betrayed them would be found floating in the river with weights attached to their limbs, if they had any limbs left at all. But what most people didn't understand was that, sometimes, there was no one else to turn to than the Devil himself. You needed money, desperately, and they had provided what the state had refused to.

You poured some cereal into a bowl, counting the individual flakes as they fell from the box. They were a luxury you couldn't afford to overuse. There was no milk to let them soften in, and so you ate them dry, the texture impossibly tough against your teeth. You hadn't brought your phone or your computer when you ran; you weren't stupid enough to believe they wouldn't use them to track you down in seconds. Yet, as you stared at the wall facing you, the old flowery wallpaper ripped in a few corners, you wondered if your friends had sent you any messages this morning, like they used to do every day. Maybe, after four months of disappearance, they had given up on you.

Work took up most of your day. To the other tenants of the apartment building, you were the faceless caretaker who cleaned the floors and did the laundry, a young girl who had fallen on her luck and for whom the owner had kindly lent the unfinished flat on the fifth floor. You didn't mind cleaning; it kept your mind occupied, a roof over your head, and a disposable face mask over any of your recognizable features.

Sometimes, an older woman on the third floor would leave a pastry or two for you on her kitchen counter, as if you were a stray cat she was trying to domesticate. She had kind eyes, those who, once upon a time, you would have seen yourself trust with all your secret during an afternoon tea in her macrame-covered living room. But, for your sake and hers, you couldn't afford to get any closer to her. If, somehow, they connected her to you, you would both go through a living hell for a crime she had nothing to do with.

When you came back to your apartment, midnight on the dot, there was always a light wind going through the rooms, consequence of a broken window you were too scared to ask the owner to fix. You'd drink some water, eat if you could, brush your teeth, and find refuge from the cold under the thin blanket of your bed, hoping you might finally rest without being chased by invisible shadows. Yet every night was the same, the ghosts of men sent by the League to get you always running through your mind. It was an uncomfortable, but manageable routine, where every part of every day was identical to what it had been the day before.

Which was why when you stepped in tonight, at the same time, in the same way you had done for the last four months, you immediately knew something was wrong.

You took a hesitant step forward, feeling the lack of the familiar frigid draft against your skin. The room had never been so pleasantly mild and toasty, yet to you, it felt as though it clung onto your skin like fire to cloth.

From the looks of it, the intruder hadn't turned any lights on, or moved anything in the main living area. You listened to it, trying to hear any abnormal sounds from the rest of your home, but you were met with nothing but silence. Were they already gone?

Swallowing thickly, you tiptoed your way to the kitchen, grabbing the largest knife you could get to without opening the old wooden drawers. It wasn't much to look at, barely bigger than the palm of your hand, but maybe, just maybe, it would be enough to deter them from lunging at you first.

That left the bathroom and your bedroom. Weapon in hand, you made your way to the first, breath shakily coming out in reassurance when you found no one behind the ajar door. You made your way to the last room with a beating heart, mind playing a thousand scenarios in less than a second as you grabbed the handle with a sweaty palm. But inside, there was no one.

You let out a sigh of pure relief, feeling the tension in your body ease at the sight. The sweat had made your clothes cling to your damp skin, and you let your grip loosen on the knife, wiping your clammy hands against the fabric. Perhaps the owner had wanted to surprise you and repaired the window himself? You couldn't help but laugh out loud at how paranoid you had become, letting something as small as the wind put you into a frenzy.

"What's so funny?"

You turned around so fast the knife almost slipped out of your hands, and you almost fell as you fumbled to get it back.

Where there had been no one sat a man, legs crossed and resting comfortably on your makeshift sofa. Even sitting down, you could tell he was tall, much taller than you, a muscular chest visible under his dirtied white shirt.

"I don't know what you think you're doing here," you started, much less intimidating than you would have liked, "but you need to get out."

The man took a puff out of the cigarette in his free hand, eyes crinkled in amusement. His irises were blue, an unnatural, glowing azure that seemed to shine in the dark. It felt as though they looked right through you, into you, cutting open your flesh with their fiery stare like in the worst of your nightmares.

"Actually, I think you know exactly why I'm here, Mari Honda. Oh wait, that was your last one, wasn't it? It's Haruka Inugawa now. Or is it Betty Kaito? You'll have to forgive me, I got kind of lost in your list of fake names."

You swallowed with difficulty, the taste of bile coming up your throat.

"I don't know any of these people. Get out of here."

He took another puff of his cigarette, his unnaturally large smile never fading from his lips.

"C'mon, you really wanna play hard to get? What are you gonna do ?" he asked, amusedly throwing a look at the knife trembling in your hands, "Stab me ?"

"I will," you replied firmly, joining your second hand to hold the knife in an attempt to straighten it, "so don't get closer to me."

He hummed, licking his bottom lip. "You know, I really love doing exactly the opposite of what people tell me to do."

Slowly, casually, he raised himself up from the couch, stretching his limbs in mock boredom.

"Stay back !" you screamed.

"Not the sharpest tool in the shed, are you?" he mused, taking a step towards you. He was close enough for you to see his face now, although you wish you hadn't. What you had first thought to be shadows playing tricks on your eyes were scars, enormous, dark scars, wrapping themselves all around his skin like he had been burnt alive and brought back. Silver piercings covered the only parts of his body with clear skin, making him look like a makeshift, assembled doll of a man from a Frankenstein tale. "I told ya, I like doing what people tell me not to do."

He took another step forward, and you could smell the nicotine coming off his clothes, the odor nauseatingly filling your nostrils.

"Please," you begged, "I swear, I only left to get you guys the money, I really did, I have a couple thousand in the bedroom and I can get your more by the end of the week-!"

"Not good enough," he replied drily, dropping his cigarette to the floor and crushing it against the heels of his sole, the sound sickening. "I'm coming back with your entire debt paid, or with your body in my trunk. Your choice, princess."

Another foot forward, and he was within reaching distance of your knife, his patchwork chest of dark tattoos and scars barely a few inches away. The look he gave you was challenging, daring you to try and stab him, and knowing perfectly well you wouldn't. He was toying with you the same way a cat would play with the trembling body of a mouse, letting it believe it had a chance at escaping before ripping it to shreds.

Your grip on the knife was rock hard, your nails digging painfully into your palms in a desperate attempt to keep it steady in front of the intruder. He reached his hand up, so close to you you forgot how to breathe, and grabbed the blade of the knife with a sick smile. He tugged, once, with such strength you instinctively let go, yelping as you fell ass first onto to cold hardwood floor.

"Little girls shouldn't be playing with sharp objects," he touted reprehensively, observing the small knife, your last and only line of defense, now in his possession. "Aren't you already in enough trouble ?"

He seemed so much taller now, a gigantic dark mass looming over your huddled frame, two blue orbs in its center watching you squirm away until your back hit a wall.

"Give me a month, I beg you," you cried miserably, trying to appeal to the man's sense of pity. "I know I can get half of it by next month. I'm not- I won't run away this time, I promise, just a month !"

"And what's the word of a liar worth to me?" he replied, raising his foot to the height of your face. You shut your eyes close, feeling tears of fear desperately escape them as you braced for the pain of his boot crushing the side of your head.

It never came.

You hesitantly opened them back up, and he laughed, honest to God laughed, a twisted, raspy sound from the depths of his throat.

"Hey now, what kind of guy do you think I am ?" he snickered, visibly amused by your tear-strained face. He brought his hand to your cheek and you recoiled in panic, but he simply wiped a few droplets with his finger in faux tenderness, the grin of enjoyment never leaving his face. "I don't go around hitting beautiful women. Unless they ask me to."

He bent down to be at your level, his breath impossibly warm against yours: "And you're pretty beautiful, aren't you?"

His fingers kept trailing the beads of water on your cheeks, petting you like one would a frightened animal, as no sound dared to come out of your mouth.

"Hey, I have an idea," he whispered like he was about to tell you a secret. "Why don't we make a deal, you and me ?"

Part of you knew that he was most likely playing with your emotions, trying to get one last rise out of you before he broke you for good. But you couldn't help the hope in your voice when you asked him: "A deal ?"

"A deal," he repeated, the abused skin around his mouth awkwardly distorted by his smile. "See, the big boss isn't gonna be too happy if I come back and I tell him I just offered you an extra month for nothin'. And then it's my ass on the line. We wouldn't want that, would we ?"

You hesitantly shook your head negatively, hoping it was what he wanted out of you.

"Right," he hummed, pleased. "But if I come back and I tell him you already moved somewhere else before I got to pick you up, then neither of us is gonna be in trouble. And then, all you gotta do is get the money together before I pay you another visit in a month. How does that sound?"

Too good to be true. There was no compassion, no empathy in those eyes of his. There had to be a catch.

"What do I have to do ?" you finally asked, trying to look into his piercing stare without flinching.

"You don't have to do anything, baby. It's a deal, remember? You're free to choose what you want," he smirked.

But the reality was clear to both of you: between only dealing with him, and dealing with the entirety of the fearsome League, who had built their reputation leaving no opponent or traitor alive, there wasn't much of a choice to be made.

"I'll do it. I'll make a deal with you."

He didn't reply immediately; he didn't need to. The look on his face was one of pure delight, his eyes crinkled smugly. For the first time, you took a moment to observe him closer, noticing the faded trace of badly placed stitches that had never healed quite right along his jaw. He had to have been very handsome, once upon a time, his chiseled features still visible through the scar tissue. Had the League done this to him?

"Good girl. Smarter than you look, huh?"

In other circumstances, you would have frowned before promptly telling him to go fuck himself. But you had a feeling it wouldn't go over so well now, and that he likely had little interest in hearing about your degree.

"C'mon now," he smirked, tossing the knife he still held further away in the kitchen, the blade disappearing into the shadows. A weight you had almost forgotten fell off your shoulders, the knowledge that he didn't intend on using it instantly making you relax. "Gimme a show."

That caught you by surprise, and you looked at him hesitantly, unsure of what he wanted you to do.

"God, do I have to spit out everything for you?" he mumbled, a trace of genuine annoyance on his features. This wasn't good. You couldn't afford to get on the bad side of your only lifeline, but what could he mean by-

Oh.

You felt your cheeks redden, and his smile came back, pearly white teeth shining in the dark. You nervously tugged at the edge of the oversized sweater, the cheap fabric catching in your nails. If you were wrong about this, you'd humiliate yourself in your last moments alive on Earth. But if you were right...

As if you were ripping off a bandaid, you tugged off your top in one rigid swoop, bundling the fabric in your lap and looking away in a last-ditch attempt to preserve your modesty.

"There we go," he whistled appreciably, his eyes so carnivorously going up and down your chest, you could feel their heat through your skin. "The pictures on your file didn't do you justice."

Pictures? you thought worriedly. What kind of pictures? How much information did they have on you?

His fingers ghosted over the delicate skin, tracing but not quite touching, and he looked at you expectantly.

"Y-you can touch..." you mumbled under your breath.

"See? You're getting it now," he smirked.

You didn't expect the intense warmth of his hands, the skin there untouched by the havoc that had been wrecked on the rest of his body. The way he kneaded your breasts like dough was impossibly pleasant, the first human contact you had had in months, and if you leaned into his touch, well, you'd just ignore it. The man, however, was not so kind as to do the same, a shit-eating grin dancing on his lips as he kept toying with your chest.

"Must have felt alone for a while, right sweetheart? It's practically criminal to have tits like yours and keep them hidden away like that."

He punctuated the last sentence with a rough tug on one of your nipples, and you covered your mouth in surprise when a small moan escaped your lips.

"Fuck, yeah..." the man said under his breath, his eyes never leaving the way your breasts bounced gently against his hands. "You're lucky the big boss didn't decide to pick you up himself."

"Why?" you managed to mumble, biting your lip to prevent any more embarrassing sounds as his fingers insistently twisted your nipples.

"'Cause you look exactly like those girls he likes in the porn games he plays all day. Nice, fat tits," he trailed on, digits moving to your stomach "and a pretty little waist to hold on to."

You tried to imagine the leader of the biggest gang in Japan as some sort of shut-in gamer; in any other circumstances, the idea would have made you laugh.

"I'd tell you to get up, but I think you look real good on your knees," the man interrupted your reverie as he rose smoothly, a firm hand guiding you closer to his lower body. You felt a tinge of panic as he held your head clutched to his jeans, the dark fabric visibly stretched around his crotch; were you actually doing this? An impatient tug at your hair confirmed it for you:

"C'mon, open this up for me. I don't have all night."

You hesitantly tugged at the zipper, guiding his member out of its confines before swallowing with difficulty.

He was big.

Not so much thick as he was long, very long, a row of metal loops piercings adorning the veiny underside almost all the way to a pulsating, bright red head. You couldn't help a small 'oh my god' as it slipped through your lips, cursing yourself internally as the man laughed at your bashful words.

"Yeah, you're not the first one to call me that. In my off time though, I go by Dabi, princess."

Dabi, you thought, glancing away from the thick cock to look into his flaming eyes. What a strange name. For someone who had ridiculed your bank of fake names, Dabi sure sounded like the alias of someone who didn't want to be found.

He nudged it against your cheek insistently, the tip almost rubbing your bottom lip.

"Open up," he simply said, and against all sense of better judgment, you obeyed.

If it had felt already warm through the fabric, his cock was hot inside your mouth. The member pulsated in your mouth like lava, the feeling of the metal piercings refreshingly cool in comparison. You took more of him in, looking up to gauge his reaction, and he grunted in approval, pupils fluttering. For as much as he mocked you, he clearly hadn't gotten any physical touch in a while, too: his grip was so firm in your hair it hurt, and the low sounds he let out through grinding teeth as you started moving up and down his shaft told you everything you needed to know.

"Fuck yeah, baby... you do this to every guy who comes here for cash? That how you're so good at it ?"

As an answer, you gave him a peculiarly indignant suck along a large vein and he almost stammered before catching himself, biting his own already damaged lip to the blood.

"Let me- fuck, let me try something, ok?"

You mumbled an inaudible 'ok', your mouth still impossibly full of him, the vibrations noticeably making the muscle of his tights tighten. In an instant, the few inches of him you hadn't taken inside to give yourself space to breathe were shoved roughly inside your throat. You choked in surprise as he used your face with abandon, pointedly ignoring your weak attempts at protesting. Whatever pretense of fair play he went on earlier was gone, the sight of tears of exertion in your eyes seemingly only making him carve himself deeper into you.

"Yeah, that's the shit, that's it baby girl!"

You couldn't breath, the strength of his trusts knocking any air straight out of your lungs. You were starting to feel dizzy; if it wasn't for the possessive hold in your hair, you might have simply fallen down. Soon, your vision got wobbly, and only the feeling of the metal ring on his cock scraping your throat and of heat pooling between your legs seemed to remain. You couldn't help but let out a muffled, broken cry around him when his pace suddenly sped.

"M'gonna cum," he groaned, the words barely registering in the fuzziness of your mind. "Better be ready, I ain't doing it anywhere else but in you. Gonna make you swallow all of it, little fucking slut-!"

Warmth filled your throat, the taste salty and acidic, but you swallowed it all, his pistoning cock still overfilling your mouth. When he finally pulled out, you gasped in relief, the air painfully filling your lungs.

Dabi let out a small sigh; of contentment or dissatisfaction, you were too busy remembering how to breathe to care. One of his hands left your hair and pried your mouth wide open, a digit scoping around your tongue purposely. It occurred to you he was trying to see if you had swallowed all of him, and you felt strangely embarrassed at the thought.

"I'm n'ot a sl'ut," you managed to say in between the fingers inspecting your mouth.

He pulled them out, seemingly satisfied with his inspection, before popping them into his own mouth, licking the saliva off with mock gusto.

"Might wanna look up that word in the dictionary again, princess. Pretty sure your name is next to it, now."

He nonchalantly tugged himself back in his pants before he pushed your abandoned sweater closer to you with his foot. That's it? A little voice in your head asked before you quickly shut it down. Of course that was it. It was a business transaction, nothing more, one that had just saved your life.

"As promised, you get a month to find us the cash. Not a day more. I'll be back for you the second your timer runs out.."

His warm hand tugged at your chin, forcing you to look right into his burning stare.

"So you better not try to escape again, baby."

You straightened your back with as much pride as you could, maintaining the eye contact.

"I won't."

He let go before heading to your window, pushing its previously broken hinges open. He climbed on the windowsill with the grace of a cat, dark hair melting back into the shadows he had first emerged from.

"Dabi ?"

He looked back, seemingly surprised to hear you call him by his name. Against the night sky, his eyes blazed a shimmering blue, and for a second you let yourself be transfixed by their unnatural glow.

"Thank you. For the deal."

He smiled without a word, that cocksure, daunting grin you knew would now fill your night terrors, the shiver of an unknown emotion running through your veins at the thought.

And with that, he was gone, no sign of the intruder left in the apartment except for your half-naked form, on your knees on the kitchen floor, and one perfectly fixed glass window.

#This work is actually not the one I had planned to publish first for my grand comeback #but it kind of wrote itself before I had a chance to finish what I had originally planned #hope you enjoy !!!#please check AO3 for warnings and tags ❤#dabi x reader #my hero academia #bnha #dabi x reader smut #touya todoroki x reader #im planning about 3 chapters for this one 💕

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manta-rays-on-gallifrey · 1 year ago

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Aziraphale’s first action as supreme archangel was to fill out an amount of paperwork that by all rights should have been called infernal. But this was heaven, so that would probably be blasphemous.

His last action as supreme archangel was to kill his best friend.

Set at the dawn of the second coming

#Good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #good omens fanfiction #otp: gay omens #my writing #pls check AO3 tags before reading especially if you're sensitive to cw's this fic goes places #*DJ Khaled voice* another one #THAT'S RIGHT YALL I WROTE THE SECOND FIC #tbh I actually came up with this idea first but knew the other fic I wrote would be more within my abilities so I tackled that one first #but this was very much my passion project fic idea so I'm glad I actually went through with it #please let me know if you read/enjoyed this I don't really know how other people will react to it

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fading-event-608 · 3 days ago

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Listen, I know, you all have been seeing fundraiser posts all day long. I've seen people complain that the tags for Palestine are "unusable" now because… genocide victims use it to find aid to survive.

Thing is, those posts will be here until Israel ceases it's aggression. And Palestinians will need your aid as far as they are left with no income and besieged. I've tried reaching out to other platforms, and Tumblr is still the best place for at least Falastin (Gazan who I spotlight for more than 2 months) to get donations; because here you don't need thousands of followers to get interactions. And at least we get one in ten response here; on other platforms both of us don't get any.

So yes, a dying website for fandom is her best bet to save her family right now. We don't speak of evacuation anymore (even though we hope for it), this is a battle for day-to-day survival. The prices in Gaza are increasing every hour, and they have no income and Falastin has gone into multiple debts to help them before starting the campaign in June. And yes, she receives more attention now but her family is still in starvation - she tries to support 26 people now, since her cousin was martyred and his 2 children joined 24 of her family in Al-Mawasy.

Yes, they should get free aid from all those countless non-profits that raise millions. But if they see something labelled as "aid" it is because they have bought it themselves. Yes, you can see (and maybe touch!) aid if you subject yourself to hours-long queues and/or humiliation of being a part of a photoshoot. They also said that the aid they get is stale at best and spoiled at worst; and that's again, if they get it.

Yes, there are grassroots organizations but they cannot reach everyone, because they are in small teams and they don't receive a lot of funds. And you can of course donate to them to try "fix" this; but please do not think that it means individual fundraisers are not worth supporting. I did not see any evidence of individual fundraisers "taking" money from others; on the contrary, when Falastin's fundraiser struggles, I see others struggle too. When we celebrate a good day of donations we celebrate it with others too.

And I could talk about Harris campaign get 1 billion in donations and still receiving them or how AO3 got 200k in a couple of days; but the post is getting too long.

Anyway. Please consider donating to Falastin's campaign; the money would buy food and water first, shelter and clothes for the winter second. There's a raffle for hand-made Palestinian thobe that Falastin's friend makes (LINK); and please follow her here.

Donate via Gofundme (in SEK! check rates below please): LINK

10$ = 108 SEK

25$ = 272 SEK

50$ = 544 SEK

100$ = 1,088 SEK

Donate via PayPal (in USD): LINK

Vetting info: #282 in El-Shab-Hussein and Nabulsi's spreadsheet [here], #957 in the Butterfly Project spreadsheet [here]

#falastin #free palestine #palestine

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the-californicationist · 9 months ago

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They Help You Practice

Task Force 141 asks you to be the bait for a secret assignment. So, they make you audition for the role. You end up getting gangbanged by the whole team and loving it!

TW: gangbang, vaginal sex, anal sex, oral sex, gay sex, degradation, explicitly consensual, spit? please check AO3 link at bottom for full tag list

You let yourself into his office, shutting the door behind you, and stood before him at a sharp parade rest, waiting to be informed about your fate.

“Sergeant, thank you for coming. There is no need for formalities. This is just a chat.”

You moved to a more relaxed rest and nodded.

Price continued,

“This is going to be quite the ask. Would you be willing to perform duties which are…outside of your current scope?”

“Yes, sir,” you responded just as you should have, as you were trained to, but Price was hoping you would understand exactly what you would be getting yourself into.

“I need you to go undercover to a Konni restaurant cover in Minsk…as bait. Am I making myself clear?”

A pause. But, to your credit, you didn’t flinch. You did raise an eyebrow and ask a clarifying query,

“What kind of bait, sir?”

“Our next target, Dimitri Sokolov, will be at the Black Pearl bar in Minsk tomorrow, and we won’t get a better chance to lure him away from his bodyguards. He almost never makes public appearances, so he must be making an exception. Sokolov has,” he paused for a moment, trying to find the words, making general, suggestive motions over his own chest, “particular tastes in his women. You just so happen to have the right profile for the job. Again, this is not an order, Sergeant. I need to know if you’re willing to accept.”

“Yes, sir,” you tried to appear fully in control. You knew your breasts were large, but you had never been asked to use them as a weapon. There was a first time for everything, you supposed. You would do anything to help the team.

The captain loved your composure. He knew you would be perfect for the job.

“Good. Let's brief the team.”

Price walked with you down to the meeting room at the end of the hall and found Soap, Ghost, and Gaz sitting in the desk chairs every way except the way they were designed, lounging over the furniture like big cats, melting into the various surfaces they encountered. They fixed themselves when the captain walked in.

“Gentlemen,” Price opened, “this is our bait. Her code name is Rabbit. Rabbit, this is Soap, Ghost, and Gaz.”

You nodded politely and resumed a semi-formal rest position.

The men had noticed you around the base but hadn’t been formally introduced. You were a desk rider, but still, you were hard to miss. The baggy military clothing had almost managed to conceal a bounty of soft curves, but your lush body persisted beneath it, and the outlines of your feminine form made heinous suggestions in the fabric. Unfortunately for them, you didn’t hang around the gym or the common area enough for them to have generated a fully accurate image of your enticing body, but they were certain it was delicious. They watched you like peckish wolves. Waiting hungrily, shifting in their seats in anticipation. For what, you weren’t sure.

“Rabbit is going undercover for us to take down Sokolov, Vladimir Makarov’s new shipping controller. He has a particular penchant for,” Price paused just long enough for anyone to understand his true meaning, “certain types of women. Rabbit fits the mold, so all she needs is the gear and the training.”

Price cut open three large cardboard boxes to reveal slinky dresses and a number of questionable garments.

“I’ll need to try them on,” you offered, “Do you want me to get changed, Captain?”

“Sounds good. Come back in when you’re all set,” he smiled, enjoying the view as you left the room.

Ghost crossed his arms, clearly with quite a mouthful to share and but refusing to. Gaz stared down at the knife he was playing with, bashful. But Soap would not be cowed, and as soon as you left, he said,

“Feeding her to the sharks like bait, Captain? I dinnae ken any of us was so expendable.”

“Soap,” Price warned, “the sergeant is more than capable of handling -”

“I wasnae askin’ about the lassie’s capabilities. Send her in to slit his throat with a knife in her hand, for all I care. But to send her in unguarded, unarmed? No. It’s not right,” Soap crossed his arms.

“He’s got a point, Captain. Why take the risk of losing an operative?” Ghost spoke coldly.

Price furrowed his brow at their short-sightedness,

“And do what, exactly? Have the Russians scurry back underground at the first hint of an assassination attempt? We’ve failed that mission three times, boys. I’ll not have this go south again.”

“I’m sure she is capable, Captain. But, is Rabbit committed to this plan?” Gaz asked.

“Sure,” Price tried to sound reassuring, “we spoke in my office. She agreed to come down here. Besides, she’ll have you three as backup. You won’t let anything happen to her.”

Gaz did not seem convinced. All three soldiers wore a scowl on their faces, and even though Ghost’s was obscured by his mask, his body language communicated his displeasure. Price carefully ashed his cigar to renew the glowing tip, taking a long drag while they waited for you to return.

You were back without too much of a delay, but when you walked in, your colleagues were visibly stunned. They didn’t recognize you at first. A short black dress had replaced your camouflage fatigues, showing off miles and miles of smooth, shining skin. Your thick thighs stretched the silky fabric, and your ass threatened to escape from the edge of the dress with every step you took. Your new heels clacked sharply against the cold concrete, making your legs flex and tense, showing off your well-formed musculature. You did not miss squat day very often, apparently.

But, the assets you were trying to use for this particular mission were the real stars of the show. Your heavy breasts battled against the low dip of the dress, providing a deep display of cleavage, hinting at pink perky nipples hidden just below the line of the black silk. Your tits jiggled as you struck the floor with each careful step, making the room full of men breathe a little heavier at the sight.

Soap’s big mouth betrayed them all,

“Christ in Heaven. There you are, bonnie.”

Ghost backhanded him hard on the shoulder. Price glowered.

You had put on a little more makeup than might be socially acceptable in an office setting, making the suggestive outfit complete. Finally, as you stood at the head of the meeting table, you took out your task force regulation braid and pulled your fingers through your hair, breaking up your long waves as they spilled down your neck and back.

You smiled,

“Well, do I look the part?”

Price coughed, inhaling too much smoke on accident. Gaz hadn’t moved since you walked in the room. He just stood there, dumbfounded, arms held at an odd angle as if frozen in time. Ghost cleared his throat to save them,

“Yes, Rabbit. You clean up very nicely, don’t you?”

“Well,” you sighed, “this is sort of the raunchiest outfit I found in the box. I was going to go with something a bit more casual, but I thought I’d better be noticeable if we’re going to nail this asshole.”

Gaz finally came out of his locked state, aghast,

“Noticeable? Sweetheart, this is more than noticeable. Goddamn.”

“You think it’s too much? I don’t really know what would get his attention,” you shrugged, looking shy as you confessed, “I don’t get asked out very often.”

“You could go out with me, lassie,” Soap edged his way closer to her, slinking around the table, “We’d have a hell of a time, so we would.”

“Don’t listen to Johnny,” Ghost stood in front of him a bit, snaking an arm around your cinched waist, “He thinks takin’ his birds to the dog races is a good date idea.”

“Well, isn’t it?” Soap protested.

Gaz grabbed your hand tenderly, examining your fingers like they were a precious work of art,

“Maybe you could come with me to Berlin next weekend, babes. There’s a killer music festival going on, and we could have a really good time. How does that sound?”

“Boys,” Price interrupted, “I’m sure she has plenty of work to finish here; can’t just be galavanting off with you muppets. In fact, why don’t you stop by my office after this mission, bunny rabbit, and we can work on your projected shipment dates together? You know, I used to be a logistics man, myself.”

Ghost rolled his eyes at the Captain,

“Please, logistics? You drove a truck back and forth on base delivering food to the canteen twenty years ago. I’ve read your file.”

The men all started talking over each other, forgetting your presence in favor of coming out on top of the dog pile. You smiled to yourself, eager to push more of their buttons.

Slipping one skinny strap down your shoulder, you spoke through the din,

“You know, this dress can be strapless. Do you think Sokolov wants it up…” you locked eyes with Captain Price, seeing his throat swallow hard as he watched you in the silence you had created, “or down?”

The other soldiers were stunned, unable to look away as you slipped both straps off of your shoulders and tucked them into your dress. One strap was still partially visible, and Ghost slowly moved one gloved finger up your arm, tracing your skin lightly, and finished tucking it in for you. He lingered, caressing the side of your breast as he removed it.

“You gonna be able to seduce this Russian bastard, Sergeant? Or, do you need some practice?” Price asked with a low, threatening tone.

The whole room held its breath waiting for your answer. The four men towered over your short frame, casting shadows over you like black spells, hoping you would relinquish your control over them. All of their eyes watched as you slowly, achingly lifted a hand and traced it up Gaz’s canvas pant leg, stopping when you discovered the heavy head of his cock, hardening down toward his knee. With the back of your hand, you pet it like a skittish animal, reveling in its smoothness and warmth. Your eyes found his as they fluttered, blood rushing through his body in a panic,

“I think I could use some practice, Captain.”

You felt Gaz’s rod leap at your answer. He bent down to kiss your mouth, slanting his lips fiercely against you.

Soap came up behind you, gripping your ass through the silk of your dress roughly,

“We’ll help you, lass. We’ll help you practice, won’t we, boys? Jesus, you smell so good,” he buried his face in your neck and sucked against your skin.

Ghost found your other hand and held it tightly, using it to steady you from Soap and Gaz’s assault. Price moved Gaz out of the way, earning himself a glare, and peeled the dress off of you in one fell swoop, revealing the expanse of uncovered skin underneath.

“Holy shite,” the captain breathed, whispering his lament, “Sergeant, where are your knickers?”

“I guess I forgot them, Captain,” you blushed, batting your eyes up at him, doing actual damage to his psyche.

He didn’t have much time to savor the moment though because Ghost was shoving him out of the way to pick you up by the thighs to lay you on the table. The giant knelt between your legs, pulling you by the knees until your ass was hanging off of the low wooden planks. He lifted his mask just enough for you to see him lick his lips over sharp, white teeth before feasting on your wet folds, letting the cloth of the balaclava hide most of his efforts.

Ghost created a soothing, yet electrically wet warmth in your core which made you keen loudly, only to be muffled by Price’s smoky kiss. You could taste the burned tobacco on his tongue and your skin was scraped by his thick mustache.

Gaz’s voice got your attention. He had freed his cock from his pants and started to stroke it, standing by your side and playing with your breasts with his free hand as Price savaged your mouth. He tugged on your nipple and told you,

“You know, Rabbit, you’re going to have to really put yourself out there tomorrow. Show him these gorgeous tits of yours. Make him think you’re hungry for his cock,” Gaz rubbed his head, hard and hungry for you, “Can you do that? Let us see how good you can be, princess. We need you to ace this mission”

You felt Ghost dip his hard cock between your pussy lips, distracting you from Price’s tongue in your mouth. You broke the kiss and looked up at Ghost, dazed, into his masked face,

“I promise, sir. I’ll be good,” you looked around at all four of the men, reaching out to grab Soap’s cock that he was stroking for you, “Will you show me how?”

You didn’t give Soap time to answer. The Scot gasped as you devoured him, sucking him down into your throat, making yourself gag as he fucked your throat in and out in long thrusts. He tangled his fingers in your hair. Ghost matched his rhythm below you, pounding his cock into your wet hole. You thought you could feel something on his dick. Was he pierced? You could see your slick gleam on his lips and chin where his mask was still askew.

“Yeah,” Ghost smiled haughtily, “you like those piercings, don’tcha baby?”

You didn’t have a chance to respond. Price pulled your head away from Soap’s dick, kissing your mouth lewdly again before giving you an order,

“Open your mouth wide for me, love.”

You obeyed. Then, he spit onto your tongue, warm and bubbling, before shoving your face down onto his own fat rod. It made your lips burn with its cruel girth, even though it felt relatively soft, and you thought fleetingly that there was no way your poor little cunt was going to be able to take him, Ghost was big enough to be filling, but the captain was carrying around a true weapon.

He pulled your head off of him roughly, watching as the strings of drool connected your tongue to his cockhead, growling in short, lustful breaths.

“Alright, boys. Make sure she’s good and ready for me. You know the drill,” Price barked, and then he was gone.

The drill? You looked for him, confused, and only found Gaz, who was now slapping his long dick on your cheek, knocking for entrance. He let you take his head into your mouth, having a much easier time than you did with your captain. You bobbed your head up and down dutifully, not realizing just how long his cock was until he tried to force it into your throat. He held you down for a moment, moaning shamelessly, before releasing you to let you breathe.

“You alright, babes?” He laughed.

You nodded, moaning. Ghost took himself out of your wetness and pulled you off of the table. Soap hopped up to lay where you were, and you moved to ride him, making sure to get right to the edge with him to let Ghost back in. You’d never taken two men at once, much less four, but there was a first time for anything, and you were a quick learner.

Spearing yourself onto Soap felt like someone had created a warm, custom, living dildo just for you. He was a perfect fit, and you both cried out in pleasure from the sensation. Ghost slapped your ass, hard, and you screamed, clenching around Soap’s cock. Soap moaned darkly.

“Keep suckin’ that big cock, baby. Need to teach you how to multitask,” Ghost threatened as he bent to eat your asshole, wiggling his tongue into the tight rim to gain entrance.

He started to fuck you with it, his long wet muscle moving in and out as Soap thrust himself up into you, hitting your g-spot every single time like magic. You took Gaz back into your mouth and tried your best to take him deeper into your throat. Every time you did, you would gag, and your muscles would involuntarily clench, and the whole room would moan. You started to come, feeling yourself flood around Soap, whose mouth had latched onto one of your nipples, suckling like he was trying to feed from you.

You could see Price out of the corner of your eye. He had lit another cigar and was smoking it, stroking himself, still not at his full capacity. You were scared of him. He looked like some sort of demon, breathing fire, as big around as your forearm. He wasn’t as long as Gaz, nor as delightfully curved as Soap, but he made your legs shake without even touching you. When he did touch you, rising from his chair when he wanted to fondle you, pinching a nipple, pulling your hair, forcing your head down on Gaz, it lit you up like you were kerosene and he was the match.

Suddenly, Ghost’s tongue was gone, only to be replaced by his heavy head. He was going to fuck your ass, and there was nothing you could say to stop him. You’d only done anal once or twice before, and you knew it might hurt. He went so slowly that you could feel each and every piercing as he popped them into you, one by one. Then, as he pulled back out, you felt them pop as each one went through you again, raking himself in and out gently, as careful with you as he could be. When you were more pliant, he began to throw his weight into each thrust, and Soap started to groan below you from the sensation.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare, Johnny boy,” Price threatened, his voice full of stern warning.

You weren’t sure what he was warning him about until Soap pulled his cock out of you and came all over your stomach, Ghost’s thrusts making the fluid smear between you two, rubbing your bodies together. Ghost pulled out next, and you felt his hot, thick ropes spray onto your ass cheeks, melting down your thighs.

Gaz abandoned your mouth and took over for Soap, feeding himself inch by inch until he found your end, leaving some of his cock out in the cold. He fucked you faster than the others, not caring to move out of the way as Soap rolled off of the table, whining like a whore the whole time.

Captain Price came around to your face, holding your chin in his hand, looking down at you without pity,

“Garrick’s got a long cock, don’t he, love? You’re being so good for my men, such a good girl. Sweet little slut, hm? You’re going to do so well on this mission. Those areholes won’t know what hit ‘em.”

He grabbed your hair fiercely, hurting your scalp, forcing you to turn and look back at Gaz. Price took a long puff from his cigar, blowing it past your face,

“Baby, he could fuck you for a hundred years. He’s not gonna come until you scream his name.”

You heard Gaz moan louder at Price’s suggestion, so you did. You screamed for him over and over, not caring who might have heard you, begging for him to come in you.

“He’s not allowed to come in you, love,” Price kissed your open panting mouth, “But, don’t worry. It’s about to be my turn, and you’ll be feeling my fuckin’ come drip out of your cunt all night long.”

Price’s voice made your blood run cold with fear. He wasn’t making threats. Those were clearly promises. Predictions of the future. His cock was tucked back into the band of his pants, but it lay in wait there like a serpent, eager to strike.

Your heart pounded in your chest as Gaz pulled his long shaft all the way out of you, his come shooting onto your lips and ass, feeling him use his hand to rub it into your skin, making you sticky. Your captain gave him a warning look, and you realized they had done this sort of thing before. Perhaps many times before. As you watched Soap and Ghost comfort each other, breathing close together, touching themselves, you wondered if they ever fucked each other as well. Picturing the four of them rutting into each other made you hungry, deep in your belly, starving to witness such an act.

Finally, it was your captain’s turn. The look in his eyes made you tremble. You knew he wouldn’t be cruel, not on purpose anyway. He wasn’t a heartless man, but he wasn’t one to hold himself back from what he wanted either. You knew that he would fuck you the way he wanted to, as hard as he wanted to, no matter how much complaining you might do about how his cock would stretch you out - even to the point of pain.

“On your back, love. Legs up. Spread that pussy open for me,” he commanded.

You did as he told you, opening yourself up shamelessly, letting your folds spread wide.

He walked around the table to gaze upon your form, staring at your pink flesh like it was a hot meal, and he was starving. He moaned, rubbing his hand across your sticky mons,

“Mm, that’s my pretty little Rabbit. Now…” he paused for effect, sinking three fingers into your hole roughly but ever so slowly, twisting his arm as he did, corkscrewing his knuckles into you, “...I want you to understand that there’s a reason I’m last in line, love.”

You cried out from the pressure of his huge hand. It felt like you were going to tear. Then, after a few hard thrusts, he released you. The emptiness you felt was heartbreaking. You looked for him, pleading with your eyes for him to return to you. He pulled his cock free from his waistband, unable to connect his finger to his thumb as he wrapped around it. You whined involuntarily, something animal in you recognizing its fate.

“Shh, baby, I know,” he drug out his voice, “I know…”

He positioned the heavy shaft on top of your body, measuring himself from base to tip, reaching your navel. As he slapped it against you, it made a loud thudding noise, slamming into your muscles like a fist. Price was so heavy. You’d never even imagined a man could feel like he was pure, warm, thick marble. Your pussy seemed to understand the panic you were feeling, flooding itself, preparing for the upcoming invasion.

“I’m so fuckin’ eager for you, love,” he slapped you again, quick taps right to your swollen clit.

Then, he put his head inside of you, squeezing himself in. He left it inside of you and started to pump himself with his hand. Between the vibration from his fist and the fact that it felt like you were sitting on the end of a steel bat, you couldn’t hold back your keening, loud and high-pitched.

Price began the steady, slow march forward, swelling harder and harder by the moment, making your walls feel like they might break. It seemed as if all the blood in your body was rushing down your belly and up your legs, hurrying to your core.

Your eye were wild, full of your fear, tears forming at the corners of your eyes,

“I can’t, please! I can’t. It’s too big, fuck…”

Price didn’t stop. He just kept feeding himself in and pulling himself back out, wetting his cock’s skin with your soaking hole.

“You can, and you will, love,” the captain growled, “Now, shut that pretty mouth and take it.”

Your cheeks were wet and your eyes burned, he was so deep within you that it felt like he was thrusting into your throat. You couldn’t breathe.

Suddenly, Soap grabbed your hand, kissing your palm, using his tongue to lick your skin,

“It’s alright, bonnie. I’m here, lass. Breathe with me, lass.”

He bent down to kiss you, but he didn’t quite connect, letting his lips graze yours featherlight. Soap breathed in and breathed out in steady, measured beats. You felt yourself begin to relax. It had such an immediate effect that you heard Price groan, able to slip himself a bit deeper than he had done.

It was like a chain reaction, the more relaxed you became, breathing with Soap, feeling him suck and lick your nipples softly, the more Price was able to squeeze himself in.

Finally, you felt his hair at the base of his cock, thick and curled, and as he sighed, he settled inside of you, impossibly pressing against your whole body, making a clear outline of himself in your lower belly. He rubbed it, almost fondly, and you felt every inch of him throb against your walls, his head bullying your womb.

You cried out again from the strain. Ghost and Gaz joined Soap. Gaz began to suckle from your breast on your left side, fondling himself as he did so, getting hard again. Ghost was at your head on the end of the table, and he bent to kiss you, upside down, his tongue running all the way down your throat, long and slippery against your own.

He pulled away, petting your cheek as Price began to grind himself into you,

“You alright, Rabbit? You enjoying your captain’s cock, hm?”

“Mm hm,” you whispered, whimpering through your tears.

Ghost smiled, and his straight, white teeth looked menacing as he did, sharp, wolf-like,

“I know you are, babe. You’re doing so well. Look at him. You can see him inside of your cunt.”

He lifted your head by your hair, showing you the grotesque shadow of Price’s heavy rod as it shoved itself into you. You reached your hands down to it, feeling it through your skin. It was so unique. His size wasn’t like anything you’d ever experienced, and your body was sending confused signals of passion, your orgasms coming in shattered, broken waves. Feeling incomplete. Too powerful, and yet drawn out like the last note of a symphony.

As you touched him from the outside, Price moaned aloud for the first time. It shocked you. You looked up at him, managing to meet his eyes.

“Fuck,” you moaned, “You feel so good inside of me, Captain.”

“Mm, yeah?” He replied, using his hands to press yours down onto his cock, making you gasp, “You like it, baby? I’m gonna make sure you never want anybody else.”

Price reached down and grabbed you by the throat, scaring away Soap and Gaz. He lifted you up, making his dick fit inside of you that much tighter with the change of angle. Then, he began the true performance. He thrust himself in with fast, punishing strokes, slamming himself into you. You were sure you would bruise, and you felt dizzy, almost like you’d pass out.

Soap was at your side again, holding your hair away from your face,

“Look at you, lassie. Such a good girl for your captain. Takin’ that cock so damn well. Can’t wait to be back inside you, girl.”

He kissed your cheek, palm massaging his dick which was back to full mast, eager again.

“Alright, Johnny,” Price grinned, “Since you asked so nicely.”

Without any strain whatsoever, Price lifted you up by your hips and held you in the air as he fucked you, bringing you around the table so that Soap could position himself at your asshole. Ghost’s earlier efforts had made it ready for him, and you could very acutely feel how much he was throbbing to be inside of you, pulsing as he fit against Price.

“Ungh, fuck, lass,” Soap groaned as he began to thrust into you, pistoning with the captain, “He’s got you so tight for me.”

“Yeah? It feels so good. Mmm…” you whimpered, feeling more full than you’d ever been.

Johnny was holding your breasts as Price lifted you up, brutalizing your pussy. Every thrust felt like an electric pulse, making you cock-drunk and mindlessly pliant.

They worked in tandem for what felt like eons, pistoning in and out with each other. Eventually, after he had felt you come, Soap addressed his captain directly,

“Sir, I’m…please, sir, can I?”

“Can you what, soldier?” Price grunted through gritted teeth, testing his sergeant.

“Can I come, sir? Please, Cap…”

“Yeah, Johnny. C’mon, mate. Let her feel it.”

“F-fuck! Fuck…” Soap groaned, pushing himself flush against your asshole, pumping his come into you.

He caught his breath while he was still in you, kissing the nape of your neck, and then he pulled away slowly. He helped Gaz replace him, holding your ass wide apart so his comrade could position himself inside. And just when you thought your poor pussy would have room to breathe, Gaz’s incredibly long shaft was piercing your hole again.

You felt him sigh, his breath against your neck. He took over holding you up, and Price praised him,

“That’s it, Garrick. She’s all yours. Take it.”

Gaz reacted to his words in a way that made you rethink their entire dynamic. Then, you remembered how he had come when you said his name. He seemed to get harder and harder the more Price praised him, and you wanted to give him that same validation.

“Gaz,” you whispered, leaning your head back to rest on his shoulder, “It’s so big, baby. It’s like I can feel you in my throat. Oh, Gaz. Gaz!”

“Mm,” Price put his mouth to your neck, groaning, “That’s it, love. Tell him how much you like that long cock.”

“So much, Gaz. It’s so good,” you added.

Then, Price took his left hand and wrapped it around the back of Gaz’s neck in a moment of surprising intimacy. As Price kissed the front of your throat, Gaz kissed your shoulder and nape. You felt like a peeled fruit being shared between them, a ripped rind, your juicy flesh being split in two; two halves of a ripe orange.

Gaz lasted longer than Soap had when he fucked your ass, but Price’s attention seemed to spur him on. His movements were slippery, and you could feel the remnants of Soap’s come frothing around your entrance, easing his efforts.

“Captain,” Gaz whined, desperate for more of that approval.

“C’mon, Kyle. She’s ready for you. Good lad.”

The use of his first name made Gaz thrust up into you with a feverish pace. He cried out as he came, hard, into you. Feeling him fall back out of you made you imagine the tendrils of a giant kraken, seeming to travel forever just to remove himself from your body, slithering out of you with a terrible squelching noise.

Gaz let Price hold you again, and you turned, expecting Ghost. Price laughed at you, chuckling softly,

“Missing your masked man already?”

You looked at Price, feeling raw and used, waiting for an explanation,

“He’s a little…preoccupied.”

Price laid you back on the table, letting you turn your head to see Ghost, buried in Soap’s asshole up to the hilt, furiously jacking him off, slamming into him a little too roughly for your liking. It was violent, but Soap seemed to be enjoying himself beyond measure.

Your pussy, though, disagreed with your assessment, clenching around Price’s cock while you watched Simon abuse his friend’s hole.

“Mm,” the captain moaned, feeling your muscles react, “You like that, love? You wanna be fucked rough like that?”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer. Price wrapped your legs beneath his chest in a full mating press and wrecked you, pounding into your body like a giant fist. You felt your bones shudder beneath his behemoth form. Just when you thought you might puke from how overstimulated you were, you felt him pause. Then, your pussy felt like it was leaking, and it was. Price’s come just kept milking its way out of you, his cock pulsing inside, making your walls throb.

When he finished, he kissed you on the mouth, almost lovingly, reverently. He started to slide out of you, being extremely careful, and you’d never felt so empty in your entire life. It was as if you’d never be full again. You found yourself whining, whimpering for Price to return.

“That’s right, pretty girl,” Price smiled, “Never gonna want anybody else, are ya?”

You smiled, shocked and in considerable discomfort. Gaz scooped you up off of the table, cradling you, sitting down with you in his lap in a large chair. He reached down for some water and handed it to you, helping you recover.

Price was standing with his hands on his hips, panting from his exertion. Ghost and Soap were connected like two hounds, locked together, the Scot cock warming his tall lover, groaning on every exhale.

“Well, what do you think, lads? Do we have a winner?” Price asked.

“Yeah, we fucking do, Cap,” Gaz pet your head, moving your sweaty hair out of your eyes.

“Fuck yeah, mate,” Ghost growled, pawing at Johnny again, rabid for him.

“Hear that, bonnie?” Soap managed to ask, still moaning in little breaths as he was being speared by Ghost, “Got yourself a new permanent assignment.”

Price walked over to you, grabbing you by the face and kissing you once more,

“You belong to us now, love. Perfect little slut.”

AO3 Link

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod #call of duty #tf 141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #task force 141 #tf 141 #141 x reader #call of duty mwii #x female reader #x fem!reader #captain john price #johnny soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #the gang's all here

6K notes · View notes

veltana · 2 months ago

Text

Breaking point

✦ Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader

✦ Word count: ~2,5k

✦ Rating: Explicit

✦ Warnings/tags: Dub-con (proceed with caution if this might trigger you), pwp, smut and a bit of fluff at the end, possessive/protective!bucky, degredation (slut, fuck doll, cum-bucket), grinding, choking, spitting, pussy slapping, fingering, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, pet name (sweetheart).

✦ Summary: Bucky is done with you going out with losers.

✦ Note: This used to be called I will kill them if they touch you but I never liked that title so I renamed it! Also, you guys didn't know what you were voting for, but it was the banner for this story! Please reblog and comment! Asks are always welcome 💚

Masterlist | AO3

"Please don't scare this one away as you did last time," you beg and look at Bucky's reflection in the bathroom mirror. He makes a face where he's leaning against the door frame behind you and then sighs when you give him a look. "He wasn't worth shit if he didn't wanna fight for you," he points out.

Now it's your turn to sigh and you cross your arms, glaring at him. "He isn't supposed to fight for me on a first date. We're supposed to have a good time and hopefully fuck." Bucky's mouth hardens, and he looks away. He doesn’t like that, at all.

Ever since you became roommates he's been very protective of you, helping you with the smallest things, driving you everywhere you need to go, even if you can drive yourself. Sometimes it's overbearing but most of the time it's nice to have someone care for you like that.

Unfortunately, recently he's picked up a habit of intimidating the people you go on dates with. He stands behind you when they come to pick you up, and his large frame and cold stare make many of them cower. A few have turned around right away, others have asked if that's your boyfriend or something, thinking it was some type of open relationship/cuckold situation.

"Don't say shit like that," Bucky says through gritted teeth. "I don't wanna think about you fucking other people." You can't help the teasing smile that cracks your face. "Makes you jealous?" With a huff, Bucky pushes off and leaves you to continue.

Two hours later your makeup is done and your hair fixed to perfection. You sit on the couch in shorts and a t-shirt, with a glass of wine, waiting until the last minute to put on the skin-tight dress. While scrolling on your phone, Bucky sits beside you with a beer. "So where's the loser taking you?" "Don't care,” you shrug. “Honestly, my priority tonight is to get laid. The previous ones were a little too… bland. But he seems promising." "What do you mean, bland?"

Putting your phone down you look at him, "You don't wanna hear this anyway, you'll just get mad," you point out. "I don't get mad," he defends. "Pfff, you're such a liar, I can see it in your eyes whenever I mention another guy." "Because you deserve the best and all I've seen is trash."

Irritated, you put your glass down too. "Why don't you pick for me then? Who would James Bucky Barnes deem worthy of fucking me?"

The grip on his beer is so hard his knuckles whiten and his lips are a thin line. When he doesn't answer you lean back and start to count people off.

"Well, Steve seems a bit too sweet for my taste but I mean I would not mind trying a slice of that all-American beefcake," you muse. "Sam is so charming and funny! That quick tongue would probably work wonders, if you know what I mean," you wink and watch as Bucky's eye twitch, his jaw clenched hard.

"Tony," you continue. "Well, he seems a little self-absorbed but maybe he's a really selfless lover. Won't hurt to check!" "Loki is so handsome," you bite your lip. "I would surrender my body to him in a heartbeat! But I've heard that he leaves people high and dry and that would be awful."

Tilting your head, you say, "Do you think Thor and Jane would be up for a threesome? I can just imagine eating her out while he fucks me from behind and then we could-"

With a slam he puts the bottle on the table and grabs your face with his hand forcefully, silencing your tirade of words and squeezing your cheeks so that your lips pucker.

The grip is close to bruising and it's an instant pull in your lower stomach. His eyes are black with anger, something you've never seen directed at you before. "No one," he hisses. "Not one of them is fucking you, I will kill them if they touch you."

His hand releases you and grabs your neck instead. You're shocked, and instantly so horny it hurts. Opening your mouth to speak he squeezes harder, making a wheezing sound come out.

"I'll give you a chance to stop this. Tell me right now you don't want this and we'll act as if nothing happened. Otherwise, I'm fucking you into this couch until you can't remember your goddamn name." When he finishes his grip lightens. The rush of blood makes you euphoric and boneless. You want to give yourself to him, let him do whatever he wants. "Fuck me," you whisper.

The kiss is more teeth than lips and the hold around your throat hardens again. You try to keep up with him but it's impossible as he pushes his tongue into your mouth, claiming every inch, making you lightheaded with the lack of oxygen. You gasp for air as he pulls away, releasing you. His gaze is brimming with lust and want now, all signs of anger gone. Then he pushes you down onto the couch.

"You're a kinky little slut, aren't you sweetheart?" he mocks and leans in over you, spreading your legs with his. All you can do is nod and try to wiggle close so you can press your center against his clothed cock. It's clearly outlined in his sweatpants and you hope it's as big as it seems. "If I put my hand down your pants, are you gonna be wet for me?" "Yes Bucky," you whine.

The throbbing is almost unbearable and his smirk is downright sinful. "Come on, rub yourself on me, show me how much you want it." With another whine, you brace yourself against the couch and lift your hips. He doesn't move a muscle to help as you struggle to find the right position.

"That's disappointing," Bucky smacks his lips and frowns. "Thought you wanted this." "I do Bucky, I do, please I'm trying," you tell him desperately. With effort, you get into a good enough position to grind your cunt on his cock through the layers of clothing. It's not nearly enough to curb the ache.

"Useless," Bucky sighs and grabs your legs. "Do I have to do everything?" He pushes your knees up towards your chest, folding you in half and pushing his cock right into your core.

"Sorry," you moan. His mean words have only made you needier and you move yourself against him with abandon. Bucky is motionless above you, not making a sound or saying a word, just staring at you chasing your high. Your movements turn unsteady when you start to come close.

If you were of sound mind you would notice the glint in his eyes but instead, you’re barreling towards your climax. Until he suddenly moves away.

Gawking you stare at him and he just smiles wickedly in return. "Take off your clothes, spread your legs" he instructs and you quickly pull your pants off and discard your t-shirt and underwear, spreading your legs as best you can on the couch. Bucky takes in your bare body, moving his hands slowly down your thighs until his palms frame your pussy.

"Fucking shaved for him too,” he notes with a snarl. You're not sure why that upset him. "Sorry!" you say, just to be safe.

"I don't need your hair curled, your make-up done or your whole body shaved. I will fuck you anyway, sweetheart, no matter what you look like because you belong to me," he growls before he spits on your cunt, sending a rush through you, making you moan and spread your legs even more.

For the first time, he touches you properly, letting his fingers spread the spit all over your pussy before shoving two of them into your soaked core. He pistons them in and out, putting his thumb against your clit and making colors burst before you.

"You want to come on my fingers, you fucking slut?" When you nod frantically he instructs, "Open your mouth, stick out your tongue." A second after you do spit lands on your tongue and droplets on your face. It nearly tips you over.

"Swallow it," he orders and watches you as you do, some form of approval shining in his eyes for the first time. "Who do you belong to?"

The question is too complicated to understand, you can't focus on what he wants. "I don't…" is all that comes out.

"Wrong answer," he says and removes his fingers, making you shout in disappointment. Sharp slaps land on your wet cunt and you instinctively try to move away from it, but he grabs your legs, pulling you back. "Don't you fucking run from me."

"I'm sorry," you cry, looking pleadingly at him. "I'm- I'm yours James, yours to do what you want with. Please, please, please let me come!"

With a huff he pushes his fingers back in, pressing the tips into your g-spot and getting his thumb back on your clit. His unbothered state makes you feel so small and insignificant, heightening the pleasure coursing through you.

As it climbs, your body shakes, your legs trembling from being held open. "I'm- I'm- don't stop!" you beg. Closing your eyes you focus on the feeling of him, his other hand still gripping your thigh hard. You hope it bruises.

"I can feel you, slut!" Bucky's voice is the cherry on top of everything. "Come on my fingers, do it, come for me!" he commands and of course, you do as he wants. With a scream you convulse, almost pushing him out with the sensation flooding you. Bucky is talking above you but you're not sure what he's saying because all you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears.

A hard tap against your cheek makes you open your eyes. "Don't pass out on me, I'm not done with you yet." "Wouldn't dream of it," you smile dumbly, and it earns you a smile in return. But it quickly passes as he pulls off his tank top and pushes down his pants. The cock is just as big as you hoped.

He rubs the head against your soaked center, sending overwhelming sparks through you, making you twitch. When he notches the head of his dick at your opening your blood freezes. "C-condom?" you stutter.

Cocking his head he asks. "Do you really want that? Doesn't a slut like you want to be filled up with cum?" "Y-yes, but, Bucky…" you gnaw your lip.

"I want to fuck my little cum-bucket raw, make sure you feel me running out of you for days," he gives a light thrust, almost pushing inside, giving you a taste of heaven. For a second you look at each other and Bucky presses in just a little bit more. It decides it for you. "Please fill me with your cum Bucky, I need it so bad!" you whine and he chuckles before shoving his fat cock into you without mercy.

Quickly you wrap your legs around his hips, meeting his hard thrusts that are sending your body into overdrive. "Feel so fucking good sweetheart, your cunt was made for me, wasn't it?" he groans. "Yes it was," you answer breathlessly.

He grabs your face. "Those other losers are never going to satisfy you." "No, Bucky, only you!" "That's right, you're my fuckdoll now, sweetheart," he says before he leans down to kiss you. It's much sweeter this time and you grab his head, carding your fingers through his hair, feeling your chest fill with another type of warmth.

When he pulls back he says, "Beg me not to come in you." Your cunt clenches and your second orgasm is suddenly a lot closer. "Bucky, please don't… I can't get pregnant," you make your voice small and frail.

In response his laugh is cruel. "Yes you will, your purpose in life is to be bred. I'm going to cum in you every day til it sticks and then everyone will know who you belong to." "Please, pull out," you beg and reach down to rub your clit, feeling the climax shimmering underneath your skin.

"Such a bad liar, sweetheart," he chuckles. "Are you going to come on my cock? Are you gonna claim me just as I claim you?" "Yes! I just need- harder!" you pant. "Fucking hell," Bucky grunts and does as you demand.

The climax rips through you with little regard for your sanity. The sound leaving your throat makes it raw and a second later Bucky moans your name loud enough for the neighbors to hear. It's almost good enough to feel him finish inside you that you come again, but you’re too spent to do more than shudder.

Then he kisses you again, sweetly, caringly, and pushes his arms in under your body to hug you close to him. "So perfect," he whispers against your mouth. The cums start to trickle out onto the couch but neither of you care, too caught up in each other's lips.

"How are you doing sweetheart?" he asks when he comes up for a breath. "I feel a little high," you confess. "Haven't been fucked that good in a long time."

There is something in his gaze that shifts and he leans his forehead against yours. "I'm sorry. I just… I couldn't take it anymore… I like you so much." "Lucky for you I get off on that stuff," you smile. "And if I had said stop I trust you would have."

He hugs you so hard you can hardly breathe. "Of course, I fucking would." "You can make it up to me by going tender the next time," you smile. "Next time?" "As many times as you’ll have me." He laughs into your skin. "I don't think you're ready for that!"

Suddenly the sound of the doorbell jerks the two of you apart. You stare at Bucky with wide eyes. "My date," you whisper, horrified.

With a smirk, he raises himself on his arms. "I should make you go on that date with my cum running out of you, maybe even let him get as far as spreading your legs just to see that you’re already claimed."

With a groan, you cover your face with your hands. "Don't tempt me," you tell him before wiggling out from under him, finding your clothes, and hastily pulling them on.

Opening the door just a crack, you understand you look a mess by the way your date eyes you. "Sorry," your voice is small. "I wasn't feeling great and then I fell asleep on the couch." "Yeah, you look terrible," the guy notes before handing you one of the ugliest bouquets you've ever seen. Quickly stepping away he says, "I'll call you." but you know he won't. "Great, I'll see you around," you respond before closing the door.

Bucky takes the flowers from you and shoves them in the trash before grabbing you around the waist and kissing you again. "Didn't you say he was promising?" "I have no clue what you're talking about," you answer with a completely straight face but then start to giggle as he swoops you up and carries you to his bedroom.

#veltana writes #bucky barnes #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #posessive!bucky barnes #bucky x reader #possessive!bucky #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fic #bucky fanfic

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dramaticals · 3 months ago

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DRAMIONE FIC RECS + WHY YOU SHOULD READ THEM — 100k+ words edition

hogwarts: a home by coralcollective — reimagined horcrux hunt. draco is so down bad for hermione and the smut is crazyyy. theo/hermione friendship. pansy is the breakout character and you'll love her. there's nsfw art and inappropriate use of the malfoy signet ring. please check the tags! (it says incomplete on ao3, but it's only missing epilogues so don't be afraid of starting it)

word count: 372,978

chapters: 67/70

the commoner's guide to bedding a royal by olivieblake — god, this fic!!!! it's a modern royal au and the ensemble of characters make this whole world feel so alive. it's inspired by will/kate and harry/meghan and it's sooo cute. theo and daphne were the breakout characters and i love them dearly. if you're looking for a lighthearted romcom-esque, occasionally angsty (because duh!) fic, this is it!!! i probably read this in two days which is insane considering the word count, but that should just tell you how lovely this whole fic was. there's a second part to this if you're itching for more afterwards (and it's just as good!)

word count: 503,570

chapters: 45/45

draco malfoy and the mortifying ordeal of being in love by isthisselfcare — honestly if you haven't read this yet..... this is god tier. a CLASSIC. this should be taught in the schools. hermione's a magical researcher / healer and draco's one of the best aurors out there. he's assigned to protect hermione because she's in the midst of a big discovery. hermione's not happy about it and draco isn't either. slow burn!! idiots in LOVE!! forced proximity!!!!! EMBEDDED ART!!! honestly this is the fic that made me want to learn how to bind which is so serious and if you haven't read this yet you need to.

word count: 199,548

chapters: 36/36

the disappearances of draco malfoy by speechwriter — this is my new canon. it's a deathly hallows rewrite where draco accepts dumbledore's offer to fake his death and go into hiding with the order. enemies to friends to lovers. i honestly can't even remember what happened in canon because this is IT for me.

word count: 289,780

chapters: 33/33

this world or any other series by olivieblake — includes clean (book one) and marked (book two). anything by olivieblake should be a must-read, i swear to god. this one starts as a year 6 slow burn. draco and hermione are assigned partners for potions and it all snowballs from there. olivie writes so beautifully and her characterizations for hermione / draco are so good. slight warning for marked: this destroyed me and i pretend it doesn't exist, but it's still a must-read.

word count: 118,892 & 178,268

chapters: 31/31 & 39/39

rights and wrongs series by lovesbitca8 — you want fluffy dramione? read the first two parts of the rights and wrongs series. you want dark and heavy dramione? read the auction, an alternate universe of the fluffy dramione, where voldemort wins and they all get auctioned off to death eaters. please check the tags for the voldy wins au! all three were chef's kiss and coming from someone who isn't a fan of dark aus, reading the first two helped me get through the auction because you know where draco's coming from / what's in his head. you can just read the auction without reading the first two parts unless you like catching parallels and having more depth / context (which i very much love).

word count: 174,911 & 160,297 & 325,876

chapters: 36/36 & 24/24 & 41/41

#we can also call this my dramione reading log honestly #dramione #draco x hermione #dramione fic recs #draco malfoy #hermione granger #draco malfoy x hermione granger #dramione recs #talk to me about dramione because i have more recs and i will take recs i never tire of reading about them

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myfictionaldreams · 1 year ago

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Day 18: Sex Pollen - Bucky Barnes

Summary: It was your first mission out with your mentor, Bucky, but not all goes to plan when you stumble across an old Hydra laboratory and accidentally trigger a trap.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dubious content (kinda), mentor/protege, grumpy/sunshine trope, sex pollen, fingering, begging, crying, rough sex, multiple orgasms, praise kink, creampie

masterlist 📚

kinktober masterlist😈

AO3 Link

“Can you stay close to me?”

“Bucky, if I was any closer to you, I might as well be your shadow. Will you chill out, please?”.

All the response that you are given is an exasperated sigh from your team leader, who was directly in front of you, his gun raised and pointing in whichever direction his eyes followed. You were so close to him that the head of his body seeped through his uniform and into your back as you followed his steps, almost like a choreographed dance with the synrosy.

It was technically your first mission today; even though you’d been over comms for Bucky countless times, he finally gave in and agreed that you could join. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you; in fact, he trusted you more than most. It was more due to his intense mentorship and protectiveness that he’d developed for you over the years, which had everything to do with your clumsiness.

Yes, you were an agent, but there were only so many times that you could accidentally hurt yourself before they called in your experience and practice. You were moved to a behind-the-desk job, which pained your heart, but soon, Bucky was your partner, digitally through the headset and then in person, as you begged him daily for training and a chance to prove yourself.

He was reluctant, but you were like an incessant fly, always buzzing around him with that chirpy personality that even managed to draw a smile to his grumpy old - yet handsome - face. The more time he spent with you, the more you could chip away at his heavy exterior and mask, which only hindered your chances of returning to the field again, as the thought of having you so close in the danger zone had him near palpitations.

He blamed it on your clumsy nature, tripping over your own feet or dropping vital machinery, but in truth, Bucky had wanted to prioritise your safety, which was hard when he had a job to do. However, after months of pestering, you wore him down enough to agree that you could attend the Avengers to a sweep of a supposed deserted Hydra base.

“If you continue down this corridor, I can check the rooms”, you say quietly, hardly audibly over a pin drop, but with Bucky’s increased hearing, you knew he could hear.

“Absolutely not; you’re staying with me; we’ve discussed this. We’ll check the rooms together and finish the rest of the corridor”. Bucky’s word was final, so you didn’t argue back, restraining violently to not eye roll at his authoritative tone.

“You two are like an old married couple”, Natasha quips over the comms, which was enough for both you and Bucky to roll your eyes. It was a comment frequently shared with those around you, and it warmed you to hear such pleasantries, and then the realisation that Bucky would never go for someone like you had the sensation of ice coursing down your spine.

“I think you’ll find he’s the old one, not me”, you retort sarcastically as Bucky leads the way into the first room. “This looks like Bruce’s office or something. Do you recognise any of these experiments?”

It was an old, decrepit office laced with dust and thick cobwebs, similar to something from Frankenstein with the number of attempted experiments that seemed littered around the room. Endless stacks of paper, vials of dusky-coloured liquids, and photographs stapled to the walls that were decaying with age.

“No, I don’t recognise any of this, but whatever it is can’t be good news. Stay close and don’t touch anything”. You once more refrain from the eye roll, knowing he means well, but you’re not a child who needs to be reminded to hold their parent's hand all the time. Taking a step away from him, your eyes scanned the various objects, noticing that it was in a language you didn’t quite recognise.

“Thor, I think we have some voodoo stuff here that’s from your neck of the woods”, Bucky announced through his earpiece.

“You think so?” you ask over your shoulder towards the man with his back to you.

“Yeah, I recognise some of these markings from his hammer”.

“Huh. maybe it’s one of the bases Loki was hiding in; he did like dark and damp places- SHIT!”

To your credit, you hadn’t touched anything or even tripped and knocked something over; potentially, a trip wire or a sensor was trapped in the room, but a light drizzling mist sprayed into your face halfway through your sentence. As you were talking, the concoction settled on your tongue but also seemed everywhere else: your eyes, nostrils, and ears felt wet.

“What? What happened?!” Bucky snapped, standing in front of you in seconds as he assessed you, wiping your eyes.

“I…I don’t know, something sprayed me in the face”. As soon as you’d explained what had happened, Bucky was cradling your face more harshly than you’d have liked, tilting your face in all directions, even sniffing close to see what had covered you, but it had already absorbed into your skin.

Bucky’s eyes were frantically searching over every pore of your face like it would give him answers about what had sprayed you. His gloved finger and thumb holding your chin tightened as he swore. “Fuck! I told you to be careful and stay by my side! Why would you touch anything?!”

Pushing his hands away from your face, you gave him an incredulous gaze, “I didn’t touch anything! I’m not an idiot, so you don’t have to talk to me like I’m one, bucky! Stop- stop trying to touch me, I’m fine,” he had been reaching for your face to examine it again, ignoring your sassy, angry tone. Still, you stepped back out of his reach, becoming frustrated with his lack of trust.

As Bucky’s mouth opened to probably further chastise you, the door ricocheted off the wall as The Avengers swarmed into the uncomfortable small room. Natasha was by your side first, examining your face just as closely as Bucky, but at least she had listened when you explained that you felt completely fine. Tony then scanned your vital signs, which were also fine.

“I told you! It’s probably some mouldy old water or something; I feel fine now can you all give me some space? You’re making it hot in here”. You were fanning your face to try and cool yourself like someone had just turned on the heating, but it was primarily because the small room was full of warm-blooded people.

“Let’s head back out, and we’ve nearly finished the sweep on the North side”, Tony began, the face plate of his suit sliding back into place. “We’ll continue and finish the rest.” He lifted his metal-covered hand and pointed a finger towards Bucky. “Barnes, take her back to the Quinjet, keep an eye on her”.

“No! Don’t send me back to the jet like a child. I told you, I feel absolutely fine!” you quickly tried to rationalise with Tony. Still, he ignored you, hovering off the ground and flying out into the corridor. You looked to the other Avengers with the hope that one of them may find some pity for you, but all you had in response were close-lipped smiles that notified you that there was nothing that they were going to do.

Letting out a frustrated shout, you stopped, admittedly like a child, in the direction you and Bucky had walked down. Even though his steps were silent, you knew he was behind. You could feel his stare burning into the back of your head.

As you returned to the Quinjet, Bucky continued to stay silent as you both sat on opposite sides of the seating bay. Your anger spiked as you shrugged off your jacket, still feeling slightly warm and needing air to reach your skin.

“Where are you going?” Bucky asked as you moved across the jet with determined steps.

“The toilet, or do I need you to hold my hand as I’m doing that too?” you snap, cheeks heating as anger bubbles deep in the centre of your chest. Bucky, for once, looked taken aback by your tone as he shook his head and allowed you to go to the bathroom.

Once inside the small compartment, you rushed to the sink, turned the tap onto its coldest setting and began to scoop it over your skin, sighing in contentment as your skin began to cool down. Pressing your fingers against your face, you felt uneasy with the temperature of your skin, and it was like you were starting to get the flu but also not quite at the heat that concerned you. You decided it was probably from rushing back to the jet after a few minutes of deep breathing.

A rush of guilt settled heavily in your stomach as you thought about how you’d spoken to Bucky. You’d never broken rank and been that rude to him before. Not once had you ever raised your voice or even been angry with him, even through all the times that he’d declined your joining for a mission; it was always for the best, but now, everything just seemed to have escalated. You couldn’t calm yourself down like you were buzzing from the inside out, affecting your temperature and mind.

Three swift knocks on the bathroom door had your head snapping in that direction. “Everything ok in there?” Bucky asked tentatively.

“Yes! Can’t a girl pee without being interrupted?” you snapped, and immediately, you regretted the nasty tone you’d spit out.

There was a pause from Bucky before he continued to speak, but this time, he had lowered his voice in a soft and calming way. “It’s been half an hour, and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay, Sweetheart”.

Half an hour?! You could have sworn it was only a couple of minutes. Rubbing your hands over your face and shaking away the tension, you nervously opened the door, tentatively looking up at Bucky through your lashes.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. I just didn’t want to let you down, and I promise I didn’t touch anything in the lab-”.

Bucky pulled the door open entirely, his eyes roaming over your body to check you were still in one piece before he sighed. “It’s fine, Doll. I just wanted to make sure you’re ok… Are you… ok?”

His blue eyes flicker over your face as he notices that there's something not quite right with you, but all you can manage is a shrug of your shoulders, wiping your eyes that were feeling a little irritated. “I feel mostly fine. I think I need a lie-down, though”.

Bucky looked unsettled by your words but didn’t stop you from walking over to the onboard bunker, where you rolled onto the thin mattress and promptly fell into a deep sleep.

“So, are we just going to leave her here?” Tony sarcastically asked the other Avengers members, who were now watching you sleep.

“No, asshole. I’ll take her”, Bucky grunted, moving past the billionaire to squat beside your body. You’d been in a deep slumber since collapsing onto the bed. Bucky had stayed by your side the entire journey home, which was a fair length, so he was surprised to see you still asleep. Tony had set up the screen to display your vitals, which he watched like a hawk and other than the fact that you weren’t waking, everything remained normal.

The other Avengers didn’t argue with Bucky, knowing how protective he was over you, as they shuffled out of the loading hatch. Bucky shimmied one arm underneath your knees and the other to support your back as he carried your bridal style. You moaned at the disruption, arms circling around his jacket-covered shoulders.

Bucky contemplated taking you to the medical bay for a thorough check, but seeing your peaceful face, he didn’t want to disturb you. He’d stay with you to ensure you were checked as soon as you woke up. It wasn’t like it was the first time he’d stayed with you as you slept, as there were many times you’d either fallen asleep on his arm during a movie or gotten too drunk during an Avengers event that he stayed just to make sure you didn’t choke on your vomit.

As he walked through the Avengers headquarters, he ignored the call for a debrief by his teammates and continued until he arrived at your bedroom, booting the door closed behind him.

Your bedroom was just as messy as he had anticipated it to be, stepping carefully over the shoes, clothes and books that you liked to say were carefully placed into piles on the floor, but you’d simply just left them there to clean up another time. Your bed was just as bad with mountains of pillows that you insisted on having, even though Bucky thought it was severely excessive.

Trying to reposition his hold on you, he hoisted you higher to spare one of his hands to throw the numerous pillows you owned onto the floor. In doing so, your forehead rested against his cheek, and you released an unsettled whine on the impact of his skin touching yours.

Bucky froze at the noise, trying to look down at your face, but in his position, he couldn’t see properly as you were thoroughly tucked under his chin. Finally having enough space, he ever so carefully led you out onto the soft mattress.

Your eyebrows were furrowed as if you were having a nightmare. Bucky sat beside you on the bed, counting your breaths and frowning when he noticed that you were breathing more rapidly than you had been when he was in his arms.

Sweat began to gather along your temple, causing your hair to stick to your forehead, which he quickly moved to move away. As the tip of his fingers connected with your skin, many things seemed to happen simultaneously.

For one, you released a deeply pained groan as you curled your body into a ball on your side, beginning to breathe in quick succession like you were hyperventilating.

“Sweetheart?” Bucky asked with rising concern, now cupping the side of your face with his flesh hand, but this seemed to trigger the pains enough that you awoke.

Your eyelids fluttered open just to clamp shut again, squeezing as you cried in unbelievable agony. Your skin was burning as if all your nerves had been individually set on fire, causing sweat to come to the surface of your pores drenching your clothes, which was still mostly your uniform.

“It hurts. It’s too hot”, you whimpered, lower lip wobbling as eyes effortlessly tracked down your cheeks. With trembling fingers, you attempted to undo your trousers, but the stabbing pain in your abdomen caused you to curl further into a ball like you were trying to shield your stomach from anyone touching it.

“Let me help. We need to get you to cool down. JARVIS, inform the medical bay that we need some assistance”, Bucky shouted Tony’s AI that ran throughout the building.

As Bucky managed to undo the button to your trousers, JARVIS responded with news that had Bucky’s heart almost stopping. “They are aware of the situation as Mr Stark has requested that I record her vitals from returning to Avengers headquarters. You are both officially in quarantine until they can find out what it is that was sprayed and affecting her”.

The sound of the bedroom locking echoed louder than any of your sobs as Bucky cursed, running up to the barricade and attempting to break out. “You can’t just lock us in here! She’s going to die, Stark, you piece of shit! Open the door!”

“Bucky!” you cried pathetically, still attempting to remove your clothes even though all that remained was your t-shirt and underwear. Bucky didn’t immediately rush back to you as he removed his jacket, giving him more freedom to swing his metal arm back and punch his way through the bedroom door, but all it did was bend; it still wouldn’t open.

“Fuck!” Bucky shouted, seething with unending rage as he rushed back to your side, helping to pull the shirt over your head. “Christ Doll, your skin is warmer than mine. Come on, I’m going to carry you to the bathroom; we need to cool you down”.

Bucky carefully carried you to your en suite bathroom in the same bridal style as before. He tried not to grunt at how warm your body was against his flesh arm as he carefully placed you into the bath, but as he tried to move away to turn on the shower, you screamed out, grabbing onto his arm to keep him close.

“Don’t leave me; it feels good to have you close, please!” Bucky frowned, not entirely understanding what you meant, as surely his higher-running body temperature didn’t feel good when you were burning up so significantly.

“I need to turn the shower on. I’ll be two seconds, and I’ll be back, I promise”, he explained and then didn’t wait for your response as he pried your nimble fingers off your bicep. As soon as some of him didn’t touch your skin, the symptoms worsened.

Bucky flinched at the pitch and volume of how you screamed. He scrambled to reach over the bathtub to switch on the shower head high above the wall and hastily turned the temperature down until cold water was running out.

“Sweetheart, you need to move further under the water; please work with me here. You’ll feel better, you just need to move for me”.

Your whole body was shaking with such force that you found it difficult to suck in air as the heat of your skin was the last of your worries. The pain in your abdomen had turned into pure agony, and if you were to describe it, it was almost like you were cramping, waves of stabbing pain but exaggerated to a level that made it impossible to breathe, think, or even want to survive. It was so severe that you couldn’t hear what Bucky was begging because you were desperate to try and hold your abdomen as it would in some way ease the pain, but not only this, your body was reacting in an extreme way to try and fight the unknown sensation coursing through your veins.

As if to relieve the cramps, your cunt produced an obscene amount of fluid to the point that it was dripping out of your hole and pooling beneath where you sat. If Bucky turned off the shower, you’d probably appear just as wet with how much of your juices were coming out.

“Fuck this”, Bucky whispered under his breath as he failed to get you to move by yourself. Awkwardly, due to the limited space, Bucky climbed into the bath, hoisting you forward to sit behind you and force your body further under the cold water. This, in turn, means that he began to get soaked, including the tactical gear he still wore on his legs, his combat boots and the black t-shirt. He didn’t care though, not when you were deteriorating so significantly.

Bucky put it down to the water, but as soon as he was in the bathtub, his body pressed against yours and arms wrapped around your waist so that the bare skin of his arm and metal touched yours, the screams reduced to stuttering whimpers.

Your head rested back on his shoulder, out of the way of the flowing water, but as your forehead turned and met his chin, you turned further to nuzzle closer.

“More”, you whispered, fingers digging into his forearms to hold him closer.

Bucky readjusted your body so that it sat fully between his thighs. “More what, Doll?” he asked gently, his thumb rubbing in circles along your rib cage. It was only now that he contemplated that you were in your underwear, but it was an emergency, even though some part of him deep down was awakening in some deep-seated emotions he’d been trying to keep locked away.

For the first time since you’d been in pain, you responded to his voice by turning your head slightly but only to rest your lips against his neck. “More!” It was like a siren was sounding through your mind, and the sensation of Bucky’s skin against yours was quietening it to a soft buzz; even the cramping had eased somewhat to a dull ache.

Bucky frowned, confused by your demands, but he squeezed his arms around you further, deciding that maybe it was the comfort that was helping you.

“It hurts”, you sobbed against his neck, “wanna feel more of your skin”.

“My…my skin?” Bucky asked, completely confused by your request and deciding that you’d probably entered the delirious stage of whatever illness you were experiencing.

“Mr Barnes? Are you there?” came a voice from the speakers in the ceiling.

“JARVIS? Is help coming?” Bucky asked with hope pleading in his voice.

“No, sorry, Mr Barnes, but we have an update. It seems that Mr Odinson has read through some of the markings found in the footage taken from the lab. The mist sprayed was, in fact, from Asgardian origin. Mr Odinson informs me that it is most likely planted there by Mr Laufeyson as a trick he has played many times in their lifetime.”

A prank? It sure didn’t look like a prank with the way you were trembling and crying in Bucky’s arms. “So what the hell is it? How do we stop this from getting any worse?”

“This is of a delicate matter, Mr Barnes, so forgive me. Mr Odinson informs me that the chemicals used in the mist are an aphrodisiac used during specific parties in Asgard to increase the user's arousal. Still, due to the amount of time that this substance had been left in this hydra facility, it has caused the ingredients to age and the symptoms to increase in intensity. However, Mr Odinson has reassured me that the symptoms should reduce if you were to consummate”.

Bucky was speechless as he looked down at your precious, unwell body in his arms. “You can’t be fucking serious”, he’d meant to shout, but all that came out was a doubtful whisper. “What would happen if we left her? Would the symptoms lessen? She doesn’t seem to be in as much pain when touching my skin”.

“Unfortunately, after some time, the symptoms will reduce. The chemicals used are designed to last as long as possible, and as they are all out of date, Mr Odinson is unsure how long this may last, but with her vitals as abnormal as they are now, it is unwise to leave her. Mr Stark has suggested that if you cannot fulfil the role of consummation, then he would find someone who could”.

Bucky’s reaction to Stark's comment was to shout in rage, and he could picture him now smiling at his sarcastic comment. There was no way he was letting anyone else touch you. “What if she doesn’t want that? I’m not touching her if she doesn’t want-”

“I do”, you gasp whilst still resting your face on his neck, calming your cries enough that you could hear JARVIS. “I want it so bad; I need the pain to go away. Please help me Bucky”.

Whether it was the way that you begged him for the intimate act or the thought of potentially what was happening, Bucky regretted to say that his cock twitched in the confines of his underwear as he sat up further. “Sweetheart, do you understand what’s being asked? To do this-”

“I want you to touch me, Bucky; I don’t need to tell you how long I’ve wanted this. I know you know how I feel, but please, I can’t feel like this anymore; it hurts everywhere”.

Bucky’s eyes glazed over. All the time of knowing you, he had somewhat of an inkling of the shared feelings. Still, it was firstly unprofessional of him to act on any feelings, but his self-conscious bias of being undeserved of love due to his past as the Winter Soldier stopped him further.

However, now, you were led out before him, ready to live the dreams and fantasies he’d been stuck on for so long, but what’s worse was the pain you were experiencing. It seemed he took too long to answer as he could feel the shift of the heat radiating from you once more.

Your back arched as your fingers delved between your legs, cupping your mound as the pain increased; this time, it wasn’t just the cramps but also white-hot tingles beginning in your clit, over every little sensitive nerve that ran throughout your core.

“Please help me!” you cried, tears lining your eyes.

Bucky had to decide then and there if he would potentially watch you suffer with unimaginable pain or help in the only possible way. He’d agreed, had from the second Jarvis had suggested it, knowing that he couldn’t lose you.

Sitting up slightly, Bucky reached behind his head to pull the black t-shirt off and onto the floor, the wet material squelching on impact. With his chest bare and kissing the skin of your back, you sighed in relief, but the throbbing between your thighs didn’t cease.

“Off, I need these off!” you referred to your underwear, the bra and panties restraining the areas that hurt you the most. Using his metal hand, bucky quickly tore through both garments and discarded them onto the floor to join his shirt.

The sound of relief that you made caused his heart to beat with a more affectionate rhythm as he looked down at your now naked body. The shower continued to coat you with cool water that glistened off you. Your nipples were the first thing that he noticed, impossibly hard and aching to be touched, and it seemed he was reading your mind as you grabbed his metal hand and used it to cup the squishy mound, directing his thumb and forefinger to pinch the sensitive nub.

You released a heavenly cry, back arching and thighs clamping shut at the lightest of touches. With his warm hand, he did the same to your other breast as he carefully squished both in his palms before rolling your nipples between his fingers.

“Yes! Feels so good, just like that”, you beg, eyes still shut, but your head had rolled back onto his shoulder, giving him the space to respond to his desire of gently kissing the column of your throat. Even this sparked more moans from you, needing to feel the plumpness of his lips, needing the electrical tingles that came from his touches to continue.

The kisses were soft, like he was scared to touch you, but as your sounds of pure elation continued, so did his confidence as his mouth opened, applying wet, open-mouth kisses to your skin.

As if on instinct, responding to these touches, your hips began to rotate, pushing down harder against his groin until Bucky was moaning in pleasure.

“More, touch me more”. Bucky responded to your demands by smoothing his flesh hand down your abdomen, feeling the skin taunt, reacting to him. He moved over your mound as he watched closely from over your shoulder. This was when he felt it, the wetness that was continuing to be produced and pour out of your cunt. Even though the shower was still coating you, the substance was different, verging on feeling slimy, more slippy and seemed to cover everywhere from the waist down.

Bucky contemplated licking his fingers to taste you, especially as his mouth filled with saliva with the need pulsing through him. Still, it wasn’t about him, so he continued lower until his fingertips were parting your labia.

The second his middle finger stroked your clit, it seemed a wild animal took over you like you knew how close you were to receiving what you truly wanted but not quite going at the speed you wanted.

One flick of his middle finger against your swollen, throbbing clit was all you allowed before you were turning in his arms, pushing his arms away momentarily as you raised onto weak knees.

“Need you now. I can’t wait; it hurts so much Bucky”. As you explained your reasonings, your shaking fingers were reaching for the waist of his tactical trousers, trying to undo the belt but grunting when you struggled to do so. Bucky thankfully helped you then, ignoring the evident trembling in his fingers from all of the adrenaline as he unfastened his belt, button and zipper.

With this new freedom, you were able to reach inside the space and grasp his hard dick, pulling it out of the confines of his clothes. You marvelled at it for a single second, enjoying the softness of the skin but the firmness of the shaft, the bulging veins and tip that was bulbous and aching to be stroked. It was like your prize, your pot of gold at the end of the tunnel, and you needed it inside of you right that moment.

Seeing and hearing your desperation to be as quick as possible, as the cramps continued to pulse through your abdomen, Bucky quickly grabbed your hips, pulling you over his lap to straddle him, even with the awkwardness of the squished space in the bathtub.

Your hands rested on his shoulders as you lowered yourself. Neither you nor Bucky had ever experienced anything like it. The agony catapulting through your veins completely shifted to one of pleasure, like a switch had been flicked throughout your body as you took inch after inch of his delicious cock. Bucky, on the other hand, was having to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from cumming, but he did moan in an animalistic way. He’d never been inside a cunt that was so perfect before, so deliciously warm and unnaturally soaked; you squeezed his cock in pulses that he soon realised was the thump of your heart.

“That’s it, you’re taking me so well.” Bucky couldn’t help but praise, wrapping his arms around your back to provide further support.

As your body naturally seemed to adjust to the size of his cock, you didn’t waste any time before beginning to ride him with the help of Bucky’s strong arms.

The shower still coated you both in refreshing cold water for the heat, devouring the two of you. Bucky is still wearing his tactical trousers and boots, and you are completely nude and riding him like your life depended on it. Well, it did, in a way.

Up and down, you bounced, your tits jumping on your chest, which caused your pebbled nipples to rub against his, giving extra stimulation. You were so incredibly out of breath with the momentum of fucking him, but you didn’t stop, only occasionally softening the bouncing to a soft roll which always caused Bucky to moan and squeeze the cheeks of your arse together.

In no time at all, you were finding your peak, cunt pulsing dangerously tightly around his cock as you came, face hiding on his shoulder as you slumped against him for a second. Bucky thought this would be over, that he would have to carry you to bed and hope you felt better soon, but then he began to feel the wetness flowing around his cock and the throb returning. Shortly after, you were whimpering.

“It hurts again, please Bucky, I need you again”.

Bucky didn’t need telling twice as he thrust his hips up to snap into yours, causing your delicious moan to echo around the room. He needed to hear it again, so he repeated the action, but it was difficult to find any sort of leverage in this position, so with his metal arm positioned beneath your arse, he supported your weight and stood. His boots were now the objects to be squelching as he moved towards the shower wall.

There, he pushed your back against it and began to fuck you with deep, fast penetrations. Your head fell back against the tiles, nails digging into the skin of his shoulder blades as you didn’t want this pleasure to end.

“Harder, Bucky fuck me harder!” you cried out, knowing he was still holding back. Bucky grunted, shifting so that both of his hands were beneath your arse cheeks, holding you more securely so that he could fuck you without any restraint.

Each thrust had you almost blacking out; they felt so good. The tip of his cock smashing into your cervix, which any other time would have potentially hurt, but for now, it was just what you needed.

You came again, spluttering and quivering from your mouth and cunt as he helped you over the edge. However, once more, the pains returned.

Bucky had once thought that his increased libido due to the super serum was a hindrance, but for the only time in his life, he was thanking whatever asshole had experimented on him for this moment.

His trousers and boots had been removed as he had carried your dripping body out of the shower when he realised your temperature remained low if he was fucking you. Into the bedroom, he continued his impressive and thorough fucking. Pushed onto the bed on all fours, in the spooning position, even missionary, and he wouldn’t change positions until you were a cumming bumbling mess. Wherever he decided to bend you over, it was always him on top; your legs were shaking too much to support your weight anymore, but he didn’t mind, not when he could take full control and draw orgasm after orgasm from you.

After god knows how many orgasms, Bucky finally couldn’t edge himself anymore and came with a gruff moan against your collarbone from where he lay over you, his seed seeping into your swollen hole, warming and massaging internally. This finally seemed to settle you, like it was the one missing ingredient your body needed, as you slumped onto the bed without any more cries of pain.

Bucky collapsed next to you, pulling your exhausted, limp body on top of his, your face resting on his chest as you both tried to calm your breathing.

He thought you’d fallen asleep, but then your face was tilting up to look at his, which, in turn, he looked down to look at yours. Even though you looked thoroughly exhausted, he could see that you were beginning to return to your usual self as you smiled so gently that it caused his heart to beat harder. Something you could hear as your ear rested over his heart. Tilting your head up further, your lips caressed his before Bucky could contemplate what you were doing.

The kiss was light and delicate, and it finally dawned on Bucky that this was the first kiss shared between the two of you, having been so distracted with fucking your brains out that he thought kissing would be too intimate. Neither of you said anything, just continued to smile before sleep finally captured your conscious minds.

#bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky smut #marvel smut #marvel #mine*#kinktober #kinktober 2023

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lovifie · 10 months ago

Text

Hi! 🩷

Welcome to my blog! You can call me Lovi/Lovifie or any nickname 🩷🩷

Request are closed at the moment, but my inbox is always open for asks and chats 🩷

Also on AO3 (working on uploading)

Add you username if you would like to be added to the tag list - Please check this before writing your name

I post mostly NSFW stuff, and I don't feel comfortable with minors interacting with it. Please, put your age on your bio or something so I can check you are in fact old enough to read it.

My dear anons 🫠, 🍰, 🫀 and 🦝

Hope you enjoy it!

❤️‍🔥Smut❤️‍🔥 🌸Fluff🌸 🤔Suggestive🤔💡Interactive💡

✨One-Shot✨ 📖Series📖 🎭Crack🎭 💧Angst💧

No One Needs to Know... Right? ❤️‍🔥✨

Nasty Young Price ✨❤️‍🔥

Price meeting your parents for the firt time ✨🎭

Him with a wheelchair user partner ✨🌸

Mr. & Mrs. Price ✨🌸❤️‍🔥

Price and his lovely caddy girl ✨❤️‍🔥

Accidentally Kidnaping Mafia Boss Price ✨🌸

Her Royal Highness 📖💧🌸❤️‍🔥

Hormones Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 🤔❤️‍🔥📖

Spidey 📖💡

Switch Bodies 📖🌸 First Morning 🌸 Meeting Soap 🌸💧

Simon Riley is a Good Man ❤️‍🔥✨+ Soap is a good man in the reblogs

Boyfriend!Simon learning about himself 🎭🤔✨

Immortal!Ghost x Reader that always comes back 💧✨🤔

Simon Riley always loved your hair ✨🤔🌸

"Simon" 💧✨

Simon with a big titties and tiny titties girlfriend ✨🤔

Insecure about their hands reader ✨🌸

Simon learning about your childhood - Extra bit - Extra x2 ✨🌸

New dad Simon ✨🌸

A Village Apart ✨❤️‍🔥

Simon “I Will Never Be A Father” Riley ✨🌸❤️‍🔥

Simon and his lipstick ✨🌸❤️‍🔥 alterative ending ✨🌸

A Ghost Of The Past ✨🌸❤️‍🔥

Actually... That's my wife, ya wanker ✨🌸

Are you home? ✨❤️‍🔥

Gaz finding his soulmate ✨🎭🌸

Manipulative Gaz ❤️‍🔥✨💧

Break Up 💧✨/📖

Competitive Gaz ❤️‍🔥✨

Back Home ✨❤️‍🔥🌸

Valeria's different approach to interrogation ❤️‍🔥✨

Little Red Riding Hood ❤️‍🔥✨

Soap's Diary (mumbling)

Him with a wheelchair user partner ✨🌸

Johnny's work out routine ✨❤️‍🔥

Soap, who steals something more than your heart (darkishh)✨

Fishy Business ✨❤️‍🔥

Price's secret weapon ✨🤔

¿Hambre, mi niña? ✨❤️‍🔥

Poly 141 x Reader

Shitposting and Jokes I have Proudly Posted 🎭

Lift Me Off My Feet (Poly 141 x Reader) 📖❤️‍🔥🌸💧

COD Boys Try Sexy Roleplay ✨❤️‍🔥🎭

What kind of nasty each man is? ✨❤️‍🔥

141TF Men and what piece of clothing they would steal ✨🌸

Little comforting bit (Poly 141 x Reader) ✨🌸

Soap x Ghost x Reader

Well, I Wasn't On That Tunnel (Ghoap x Reader) 📖❤️‍🔥💧

Ghost finding out about you and Soap's little deal ✨❤️‍🔥

Price x Gaz

An Offer You Won't Refuse ✨❤️‍🔥

#call of duty #call of duty smut #masterlist #ghost x reader #captain price #john soap mactavish #kyle garrick #call of duty imagine #cod imagine #poly 141 x reader #poly tf141 #cod #modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare

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prismdewdrop · 4 months ago

Text

dangerous territory

Summary: jason todd may be exhausted after a long night of vigilance, but if you've stayed up late just to talk to him, he's going to make sure he knows exactly why.

or: jason and reader are both idiots and should probably just kiss, but they're idiots, so they do... whatever this is instead.

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: mention of jason's death, mention of dead animals (in reference to the plot of john wick)

Tags: roommates in love, late-night conversations, mutual pining, jason is a little bit of an asshole (affectionate), he's not beating the little shit allegations, jason todd loves reader and is soo not normal about it, pov jason todd, everyone is 18+

A/N: long-time jason todd lover, first-time fic writer!

this work was inspired by @notnotacowpoke 's roommatesverse with jason, and they've been absolutely amazing with betaing and just going insane with me over this. you can read their work on ao3 :))

please feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments or in the tags! thanks for reading <3

edit (a big thank you): omg thank you so much for the response, everyone! i genuinely can't believe my first fic on a sideblog got so much of a reaction, and I'm so, SO grateful. my inbox is open for your thoughts or requests for jason and his roommate reader! i'd love to say hi and explore this au some more!

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"Jay?"

The sleep-soft call melts the night and the pain away.

Halting his lonely trek to his room, Jason Todd turns towards your voice. A fresh bruise catches at the quickness of his movement, but he tucks away the wince into the back of his throat.

You're standing at your door, peering into the dark in his direction.

"Yeah, babe?"

A low hiss makes it out of his throat as the endearment falls from his mouth. He waits to see if you caught it. You sounded exhausted, drowsy with much-needed sleep, and even in your apartment, the city was never quiet. Whether you heard it or not, though, you don't acknowledge it, waiting to hear a confirmation from him.

His heart aches for a split second, recognizing the fatigue in your voice, like the second skin he wears every day, accompanied by the tinge of fear that keeps him alive – and keeps you waiting to hear for sure if it's him.

"It's me. What's up?" he says again, louder this time.

You open the door wider, stepping more clearly into his view, just a little past the doorway. One side of your face and body is splashed in the ever-glistening lights of the city that leaks into your apartment in a haze of light gray.

The patch of light helps, and so does his helmet's night vision.

He can see you now, and like always, a breath catches in his throat–even rumpled with sleep, you look lovely and soft.

To you, he knows that he's just a larger patch of darkness against the dimness of your shared living room.

"You're back earlier than I thought you would be," you say finally.

He can see the concern flit over your face as you do your best to scan him in the darkness, checking in vain for any obvious wounds or hurts. He watches as your concern deepens when you're unable to make out anything in the dark, still reluctant to ask him to step into the light

"Slow night," he shrugs.

He steps closer to you, not fully into the light but close enough that you can make out more of his form. He sees the relief wash over your face and your shoulders loosen a little as you clock his unaffected stride and note the lack of any visible wounds. He doesn't mention his new bruise. And he won’t, at least not until you tell him what it is that has kept you up so late.

"I – well, I was waiting for you to come back..."

A pause.

You pull your lip between your teeth, eyes darting over his face, shoulders climbing towards your ears with tension. He can practically see your mind whirring, and he can see the exact moment you decide against finishing your sentence. Your eyes drop, and your shoulders with them.

A sigh.

Then: a small smile.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Which... you are. Clearly. I think. At least, you look—"

You stop yourself, realising that you were babbling. With a pasted-on sheepish smile and an awkwardly cheery wave, you turn towards the door.

"Well! You must be tired, get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow morning!"

The forced cheer cuts through your fatigue for only a few seconds as you rush the words out and turn towards your room, and he sees the corners of your mouth dipping down the moment you think he can't see your face. You're not a bad liar, by any means. It just so happens that most of the time you're together, you're the only thing Jason sees.

"No."

"What?"

Confusion contorts your face as it snaps to look at him again. Your eyebrows knit together, lips pursing and pushing out into a pout. It's cute, and he's quite sure you have no idea you do this.

"I'm going to camp right out here," he gestures at the (incredibly uncomfortable) couch as he looks straight at you, challenge evident in his voice and in the set of his squared shoulders – "And I am not resting until you tell me what you need."

You frown, lips pressed together into a tight line. You're weighing his response, trying to piece together just how serious he is. Jason reaches up to unclasp his helmet, lifting it off and letting you see that there's very little humor in his eyes – just enough to soften you into spitting out what you really wanted to say — but not enough to let this go.

That's enough for you, though, even in the limited light. Only three months of cohabitation and somehow the both of you could read each other just as well as the stacks of books that crowded the apartment – well worn, annotated, so many of them in various states of disarray, torn and stained and bent, nearly all with cracked spines, but still so so beloved.

He can read you a little better, though, what with his years of vigilance and, well. Everything else that followed.

Jason knows you – the same way he knows the locations of all of Bruce's safe houses, or the exact number of times he could call Tim 'the replacement' before something heavy would be launched at his head. That is to say, concerningly well.

There wasn't a twitch of your eyebrow or a blush or a glare or an angry press of your lips against each other, or a quirk of them (he may have studied your lips especially well) that he hadn't committed to memory, that he didn't know by heart. He wonders if you know, and he wonders what you'd think if you did.

Another sigh, your shoulders sag further, and he makes a mental note to take you through some exercises to improve your truly terrible posture.

"Jason, it's really nothing that can't wait till morning, I just –"

"Come on, dude," He scoffs, not unkindly. "I know you wouldn't have stayed up so late if it wasn't important enough to keep you up."

He nods at the dregs of coffee in the mug you'd forgotten on the centre table for emphasis. There's no hiding from the world's third (or maybe fourth?) best detective that it's the special, strong type that you usually reserve for the most daunting of deadlines.

You swallow up the rest of your words and let out a huff. This time, it's more frustrated than tired, and he can see the flash of irritation in your eyes. You glance away from him, arms coming up to clasp your elbows, encircling yourself in a loose hug. Discomfort radiates off of you in waves, and as you sink your teeth into your lips again; he notes the steady rise of your shoulders towards your ears.

A flash of annoyance goes through him. Not at you — never at you — but whatever new inconvenience this city has wrought for you. Whatever it is that has you up and walking around at 3 AM in the morning after a draining day of work and study and worrying about him.

He fights the urge to step closer, to wrap his hands around your shoulders, smoothing the bare skin and loosening the tightness in them. It would be so easy — there's barely four feet between the two of you, in a few steps he could be holding you and —

He stops himself from following that particular train of thought.

Red Hood faces open gunfire head-on almost daily. Sometimes, he even takes an explosion or two to the face. Then there was the time he'd died, followed by all the times he'd almost died. And he still couldn't remember the last time he'd felt true, bone-deep fear.

But this, this was dangerous territory he was terrified of treading. Yet he was unable to deny the existence of the temptation, always tugging on something in his chest like a low undercurrent, occasionally crashing over him in a wave of desire to touch and protect and hold. To slip his fingers through yours, through your hair, over your lips, between them.

He wonders if you know how easily he can read you, see the way your mind is running through excuses and half-truths to throw him off right now, extricate yourself from this uncomfortable situation and put a safe distance between you again. He should let you do it, really. Even you know that this territory is... not for you. Which is why you were now teetering at its edge after taking these few hesitant steps towards it – him.

But still. He can't ignore the tug. He can deny the waves, stop himself with a savage jerk on his mental reins. That low undercurrent, however – he nurses it, lets it guide him. He has to. It hasn't been long since you met, but he already doesn't know what he would do without it guiding him back to you, day after night after day, painful blow after near-death encounter.

And so he narrows his eyes at you, ready to counter anything you say that isn't the truth.

He feels like a dick; he really does – dangling his well-being in front of you to get you to just stand up and say it. He does this sometimes, pushing you and inconveniencing you – borderline bullying you into being honest with him.

But he knows he's right to be doing this. You have enough fire in you to push back when need be, when he crosses a line, and knowing you, you would've stormed back into your room without a backward glance and with a slam of your door, if whatever this was wasn't bothering you so much.

"I..." You paused to glare at him, just to show him that even if you were playing along, you did not appreciate playing his games.

Jason hides his smile and just raises his eyebrows.

Hands clenching into fists, you glare up at the ceiling as you wrestle with your words, as if hoping for divine intervention.

Another sigh, this time an admit of defeat.

"Fine – but I'm warning you – it's stupid –"

"With you, roomie, I doubt it is."

"Jason, can you please stop interrupting me? I'm really trying here."

Jason raises his palms in a silent apology, an acknowledgement of his dickish behavior, saving the real sorries for later.

You nod in acceptance.

"Okay." Deep breath. "I just wanted to... show you something. And spend some time with you. You know, because we haven't been able to catch up lately and I –" You stop, voice strangling around the next words, catching yourself. You take a breath before continuing. "And I could really use your... insights."

Your voice trails off, and he can feel you wince internally as you slip into impersonal corporate speak, an effort to avoid any words that were more intimate than they had the right to be.

Jason knows. Or at least he can make a damn good guess as to what the words you'd struggled to choke off were. He knew, sure as hell, it wasn't ‘insights ’, but acknowledging the unsaid words was very much stepping into the dangerous territory. And like you had when he slipped up and called you babe, he doesn't.

If he felt anything less than what he did feel, he would have joked about it, said something like: "Aww, bestie, I miss you too". Then you would laugh and shake your head and you would slip back into the easy camaraderie that had marked the beginning of your relationship – before Jason had started noticing the precise way in which the hearts that you signed your notes off with varied in size and number depending on the mood you were in, or the way your hand reached for his every time you crossed a road together.

So instead, he says nothing. He just waits.

"I'll be in my room," you say, arms wrapping around yourself again, a blush rising steadily up your neck and onto your cheeks. You nod at his gear. "Whenever you're ready, just come in. I'll be up."

Oh. They were to be alone. In your room. Probably on the bed. No, definitely on the bed. There's no space for a desk or chair in rooms that come with apartments in this part of Gotham, especially the ones affordable for students. No, there's only one place they can sit comfortably together.

Not that they haven't sat on your bed – or his bed – together before. They have, countless times. They've cuddled and huddled, most times with a pile of snacks for company.

On the days they'd given up on any possibility of productivity, they'd marathoned all their comfort movies and franchises before falling asleep, arms around each other, legs tangled, and depending on who'd had the worst week, a head tucked under another's chin, lead gently into slumber by the comforting rhythm of a heartbeat.

They'd binged Lord of the Rings (NOT The Hobbit series; you both agreed that that was a waste of time, though Jason had stronger, angrier feelings towards it than you did), almost all the Austen adaptations (you could never decide which Emma you liked better – the one with Anya Taylor Joy had the beautiful production and a great depiction of the relationship between Emma and Harriet, but the one with Gwyneth Paltrow had a certain charm, and the leads good chemistry); John Wick that one time – he'd adored the way you'd poked him and asked him if he could do/had done some of the particularly impressive stunts (he could, and you'd been thoroughly impressed); Fast and Furious – only till the sixth one though – Jason personally thought Fast Five was where they should have ended their binge, but you were partial to the sixth one (because of the romance, you said), and Jason had grudgingly accepted it's merits.

That was, what, at least 40 hours of just watching movies? And that didn't even include the time they'd spend just hanging out together, reading silently, or watching something on their own (though one of them would inevitably end up joining the other).

No, he's definitely been in your bed, comfortable with the tugging undercurrents of longing in every laugh you shared, the way you'd sniffled unfailingly at the last march of the Ents, and when his eyes watered at the ride of the Rohirrim, the way you'd both sighed at Darcy's confession, and when you'd turned to Jason as you watched John Wick lay waste to New York's criminal underworld in revenge for his dead dog, and ask:

"You'd do this for me, right?"

"Absolutely."

"Okay, good. I'd maybe hire someone to do this for you, since you know. I can't kill a man with my bare hands."

You could kill a man with your smile, though, Jason remembered thinking. You killed him a little every day and brought him back just as well, each time just a little bit more whole than the last time he'd been brought back to life.

Sure, he'd been in your bed. But not like this, not when the darkness of the night had melted that thing in his chest – the thing that searched for you the moment he woke up – and brought it out from where it was safe in its cage, to the back of his mouth, the tips of his fingers, the pupils of eyes – poised right on the edge of saying, doing, showing the wrong thing.

Say no, the admittedly miniscule part of his brain that didn't leap to fulfill your every wish insisted. They've given you an out already. Just say you're more tired than you look and talk tomorrow. This isn't just treading - this is running blind and unarmed into dangerous territory. Say no.

But... they miss me, the overwhelmingly persuasive part of him that ached to sweep that particularly unrepentant loose curl into place every day reminds him. They're up and they're worried and they want me to come talk to them because they miss me. I miss them.

His heart twists. He can't say no, never could.

Jason wonders if you know that he would walk into a shootout blindfolded, without armor and with a grin, if that could bring you anything worthwhile. He turns a fond smile your way, his careful expression melting away.

Your breath catches as the corners of his mouth lift. When Jason smiles like that, his eyes crinkle, they shine at you as if you're all he sees, and it was heartachingly beautiful in it's rarity.

Jason's smile was a golden patch of sun on a cold day; you're powerless in its wake to do anything except curl up in its warmth and bask – always longing for more and more.

"You know I wouldn't say no to that. I'll be right there,” he says with all the seriousness of a wedding vow.

You fight the urge to linger, to drink in his smile with your eyes and infuse every inch of your body with it's sweetness. You force a small smile of your own and with a wiggle of your fingers, you return to your room, feeling his gaze settle on you until you close the door behind you gently.

He doesn't hear the click of the lock, and so when he heaves his own sigh of defeat, it's in the safety of his own room, between him and the busy silence of the city.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood fanfiction #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #dc fanfiction #batman fanfiction #batman imagine #dc imagine #dc #batman #red hood #jason todd #batfamily #dc comics

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steddieas-shegoes · 7 months ago

Text

i wanna make your heartbeat run like roller coasters

for @subeddieweek day one with the prompts manhandling and accidental subspace

rated e | 3,520 words | please check ao3 for tags

⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕

Eddie gets pushed against a lot of lockers.

It’s rarely accidental.

It’s always painful.

He doesn’t exactly have a lot of meat on his bones. Every hit leaves a bruise.

So when Steve fucking Harrington does his own dirty work for once, even though he graduated the way Eddie was supposed to, it’s just a bit embarrassing that it doesn’t hurt. It feels…kinda like he should be on his knees.

Which is really not something he wanted to think about when Steve’s got a hand on his shoulder, gripping hard enough to bruise, and something like fear in his eyes. Why is he scared?

“Did you sell weed to Robin?” he asked, teeth clenched.

Jesus fucking Christ. Steve’s got himself a band nerd girlfriend. How the hell did that happen?

“No, I sold to her friend. She waited by the treeline talking to herself the entire time.”

Eddie could hear his own voice shaking, but he wouldn’t back down. Black eyes were kinda metal weren’t they?

“Which friend?”

“Dude, I don’t even know. Someone else in band.”

The hand on his shoulder tightened and he barely bit back a whimper.

Steve’s eyes were very pretty this close. They were pretty from far away, too. Honestly, having Steve this close was probably rewiring something already broken in his brain. Having Steve’s hand on him like this was making his brain do somersaults trying to stay focused.

And then his hand was gone.

Eddie breathed in, breathed out.

“Sorry. I-” Steve shook his hands out and backed away. “Sorry.”

Eddie ignored whatever the fuck was happening in his stomach. It shouldn’t be happening so it isn’t, simple as that.

“Maybe you should ask your girlfriend if you’re so worried about her buying drugs.” Eddie should learn to shut his mouth at some point. “I only sell to the people who come to me first.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. I remember.” Steve wiped his hand down his face. “Sorry again.”

Eddie looked him up and down, taking in the fact that he was genuinely apologizing. No one ever apologized for knocking him around, not even when it was on accident.

“You good?” He eventually asked.

“Yeah. Just, she’s been through a lot. I didn’t really want her to get pressured into buying something,” Steve sighed. “Has she come out of the band room yet? I’m supposed to bring her to work.”

“Uh, yeah man, everyone left an hour ago.”

Eddie watched Steve’s face fall as he checked his watch and must’ve realized the time.

“Shit. Okay. I must’ve lost track of time.”

Steve looked pitiful. Eddie’s seen dogs in alleys who looked less beaten down and neglected than Steve currently did.

“I can help you find her?” Eddie offered for some unknown reason.

Well, he knew the reason, but he was choosing to ignore it.

“She’s probably already at work. It’s my day off so I ended up getting distracted with something and didn’t realize it was so late,” Steve admitted, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. “Thanks, though.”

Wayne liked to tell Eddie he was too nice to undeserving people. Lord knows he gave his dad too many chances and got let down every time. He even tried to be friends with Tommy Hagan in middle school because he could sense something was going on with Tommy’s dad much like his own.

But Eddie liked to remind Wayne that Eddie is often considered undeserving and he took him in and gave him multiple chances regardless.

“You wanna smoke?” Eddie asked, despite knowing he barely has anything left after the long week of midterms for students. His busiest times of year were right before school breaks, midterms, finals, and graduation weekend. He usually stocked up, but with Rick being in prison again, he had to try to stretch what he had out.

“Uh…smoke what?”

“Weed.” Then it hit Eddie that maybe Steve was into harder stuff. But he hadn’t ever even bought from him in high school. Tommy had, Carol had, almost everyone at his parties had, but Steve never did. “I have regular old cigs too if you prefer.”

“Yeah, man, cool,” Steve sighed with relief.

“I got a spot behind the cafeteria if you wanna…”

“Sure, yep, let’s go,” Steve nodded, gesturing towards the double doors that led outside to the cafeteria and auditorium buildings.

As they walked, Eddie’s mind raced with thoughts of being alone with Steve, Steve’s arm brushing against his, Steve pushing him against the wall of the cafeteria, of Eddie dropping to his knees and unbuttoning Steve’s pants and-

“I’m really sorry about what happened back there.”

Steve’s voice shook him from his thoughts, but his dick didn’t quite get the memo. When did he even start getting hard?

“No worries, dude.” His face scrunched in disgust at calling Steve dude. What was next, the bro pat on the back? A fist bump? “Kinda jealous of how protective you are of your girlfriend.”

Okay, actually, what the fuck? Eddie needed to shut his fucking face, right the fuck now.

“She’s not my girlfriend, but uh, I don’t think you’re really her type either,” Steve gave him a look, one Eddie knew well and one he couldn’t quite believe he was seeing on Steve’s face right now.

“Right, right.” Eddie wouldn’t make him say it, especially if it was actually the look he thought it was, but maybe he could offer a little something in return. “Yeah, she’s not really my type either.”

Steve stopped just before they reached the hidden area behind the dumpster and picnic table for staff to smoke.

“Really?” Steve’s eyes were wide. “So you’re more into…someone like…me?”

Eddie was actually leaking into his goddamn boxers. Why was he getting turned on just talking to Steve?

“That would be one way of saying it,” Eddie said. Still easy enough to back out of it, at least. Could just say he likes women who wear polos and use more hairspray than Melvald’s has ever carried at any given time.

“Huh,” Steve continued walking to the picnic table, sitting on top of it and kicking some dirt off the bench by his legs for Eddie to sit. “So those rumors were true?”

“That depends on if I’m gonna make it back home to my very loving uncle if I say yes.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Obviously, I’m not gonna judge you about it when my best friend is-” He cut himself off and Eddie had to give him major credit. The Steve he used to know never would’ve cared if he outed someone, or at least never would have realized that was wrong. He coughed and then looked down at the bench. “You gonna sit?”

Eddie sat down on the bench, extremely close to Steve’s legs. Almost touching. Was that heat coming from his body or was Eddie just extremely warm?

“Did you actually wanna smoke or did you just wanna get out of the hall?” Steve asked after another minute of awkward silence.

“We can smoke.” Eddie reached into his pocket, hating how tight his jeans were in the front, and grabbed his lighter. His pack of cigarettes were usually stored in his van because he rarely smoked them, but luckily he’d brought them with him all week to sneak smokes between classes. He pulled one out and handed it to Steve.

He started to light his own when Steve leaned down, his face right next to Eddie’s, breath hot on his neck.

“You aren’t gonna light it for me?”

Eddie whimpered.

He would deny it a million times over if anyone asked. He almost had himself believing he imagined it.

But Steve laughed and backed away, pulling out his own lighter and giving Eddie a second to catch his breath.

What the fuck was that? Did Steve know he was making Eddie’s brain flatline?

He watched Steve take a long drag out of the corner of his eye, his mind shuffling between ‘what if he fucked me right here?’ and ‘get the hell away before your dick pops a hole in your jeans.’

Steve’s lips were so pink, and looked so soft, and just wet enough from licking his lips before taking the next drag, and Eddie was really going through it right now.

He’d gone through his Steve Harrington phase just like everyone else, thought it was over when he graduated. Had avoided the mall all summer when he heard he was working at Scoops so he didn’t have to see him in those tiny blue shorts. Had even gone so far as to avoid being around when the kids were being picked up from Hellfire because Dustin mentioned Steve was his ride.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Except for Eddie’s imagination was impressive, and his late night thoughts turned into very vivid scenes of Steve working him to the edge and making him beg, or pushing him against a locker and making him take his cock with barely any prep, or-

“Dude, anyone ever tell you you’re kinda space-y?” Steve’s voice once again lifted him from his thoughts, though he felt a bit hazy.

“Think I’m comin’ down with something,” Eddie squeaked out. All he was coming down with was a sickness deep in his chest: Harrington Heart-itis.

“Did you hit your head?” Steve sounded concerned now, setting his cigarette in the ashtray left on the table and moving so he had one leg on either side of Eddie. His fingers landed in Eddie’s hair, pulling his head closer and inspecting it for injury. “I didn’t think anything but your shoulders hit, but maybe-”

“No,” Eddie gulped. He should pull away. “Didn’t hit my head.”

Steve’s fingers tightened, not quite painfully, but enough of a bite to it that Eddie whimpered. Again.

Steve’s grip loosened, but his fingers stayed buried in his curls, and Eddie felt pressure guiding him to rest against Steve’s thigh.

“You eat today?” Steve asked, though his voice sounded kinda far away, like he was above the surface of the water and Eddie was sitting at the bottom of a pool looking up at the sun. “Eddie?”

“Hm?” Eddie blinked up at Steve. “I ate.”

“When?” Steve’s hand was cupping his cheek. “Lunch?”

“Mmm, no,” Eddie shook his head, blinked. “Breakfast? Cereal.”

Steve cursed under his breath.

He was so pretty. Had he been told how pretty he was? Surely when Nancy was with him, she told him.

Even if Robin liked women, she had to at least notice how pretty he was, right?

Steve’s sharp intake of breath somewhat centered Eddie.

“I’m gonna drive you home, okay?” Steve whispered, leaning down so his face was only inches away.

Eddie could kiss him. It would be the easiest thing in the world to lift his head the final two inches to make their lips meet.

“Eddie, eyes open,” Steve’s fingers tightened again, gaining Eddie’s full attention. “Should I call someone? Are you dynamic or something?”

Eddie’s brows furrowed. What did that even mean?

“Like the sugar thing?” Steve continued.

“Diabetic?” Eddie still felt a little hazy, but he was starting to come back to it with Steve’s hand migrating from his hair to his shoulder. “No, my sugar’s fine.”

“I’ve got some soda in my car. I can drive you home and then bring you to school in the morning. You probably shouldn’t drive like…this.”

It all came crashing down when Eddie realized how vulnerable he’d just been, how he’d actually lost track of time, not sure exactly how long he’d been sitting between Steve’s legs with his hands in his hair before he started coming back to earth. He stood up, maybe a bit too quickly, rocking a bit before finding his balance.

“Woah, take it easy.” Steve held his hands out, grasped his biceps to hold him steady. “You were pretty far out of it. Don’t rush it.”

How fucking embarrassing.

Eddie had only gone down that far one time with someone and they got freaked out when he was giggling and couldn’t walk on his own because his legs felt like jelly. But that had been on purpose. This was- Steve didn’t– Jesus Christ.

“I’m fine now.” Eddie was not fine. He knew what would happen if he left right now. Aftercare was a major part of this whether Steve was prepared for it or not. “Just, um, walk me to my van.”

Steve looked like a kicked puppy, but Eddie didn’t have the time to explain all of this to him.

Steve Harrington didn’t know how much of a freak Eddie was even if he did know he was gay. There’s no way Steve participated in any type of BDSM with the many girls he slept with in high school.

There was absolutely no fuckin’ way Nancy Wheeler let herself get tied to a bed and get fucked by Steve.

He shook his head at the thought.

“I’d feel a lot better if you let me drive you. I promise we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” Steve sighed. “I just don’t know if you should drive when you went down so hard.”

“You have no idea what even happened,” Eddie argued, pacing back and forth. “I can drive. I just need to walk it off.”

“You don’t walk off subspace.”

Eddie froze. Steve was standing right in front of him now, concern in his big, stupid, adorable eyes.

“How do you even know about subspace?” Eddie whispered.

“I slept with half the high school and two guys in Indy. I know what subspace is, Eds.”

Eddie must still be in space. Or maybe another galaxy.

“Sorry, did you just say you slept with two guys in Indy?” Has Steve seriously fucked more guys than Eddie has? Eddie, the resident gay man of Hawkins, has only been with one man in his entire life and Steve has apparently slept with two?

“Well, I wasn’t gonna sleep with two men in Hawkins!” Steve threw his hands up before putting them on his hips. “I hit up a gay bar and didn’t realize it doubled as a BDSM club until I was already in it and then a nice guy showed me the ropes. Literally. There were ropes involved.”

Eddie snorted. Steve was pretty and funny. Great. Just what he needed.

“I have a quick recovery, so I’ll be fine to drive home,” Eddie tried, though even he could hear his voice still shaking.

“No one is that quick,” Steve wrapped an arm around his shoulders, tugging him into a hug. “Has that ever happened before?”

“Not like that.”

“We should probably talk about it.”

The last thing Eddie wanted to do was talk about how someone playing with his hair and moving his head around while showing the bare minimum of care was enough to send him into subspace, but he had a feeling Steve wasn’t gonna give up easily.

“Fine. What should we talk about? How no one ever touches me gently so the moment someone did, I slipped? How I’ve been avoiding seeing you anywhere in public because I knew it would make my crush come back full force? Oh, I know!” Eddie laughed hysterically as he pulled away. “Let’s talk about how I still think about you in your stupid basketball shorts when I’m fucking myself on four fingers, which is never enough because I can never reach the spot I need to. Or how I once cut out your yearbook photo to keep for jerking off material because my mags weren’t enough. Could even talk about how earlier I wanted you to put your leg between mine so I could rub off on you. Or maybe the weather if you’d prefer that.”

Eddie was panting, could feel the heat on his face rising as he realized everything he’d just said, admitted, to Steve.

He’d never said any of that out loud. Shit, he’d barely said most of it in his own head.

Steve’s arms were pulling him in and Eddie let himself have it, let himself feel small for just a moment. If Steve wasn’t completely disgusted by what he said, then he would at least accept this offering of kindness for now.

They stayed like that for a while, long enough that Eddie started to wonder if he could just live here, right in Steve’s arms.

“It’s looking a little cloudy,” Steve said quietly, hands still rubbing Eddie’s back slowly.

“What?” Eddie still felt a little out of it, but that was entirely out of left field.

“You said we could talk about the weather.”

Eddie snorted. “Oh my God, you’re so-” Eddie looked up at Steve, who was smiling down at him. He felt off-kilter, being the object of that particular Steve look. “Stupid.”

It was fond, probably too fond for someone who needed to protect himself from whatever the hell was happening. He needed to shut this down.

“It’s been mentioned,” Steve’s eyes flickered down to Eddie’s lips, then back up to his eyes. “You good to head out?”

Eddie started to nod, but stopped.

This was his only chance. He wasn’t dumb enough to think he’d ever be alone with Steve again. If he was gonna kick start a spiral over feelings, he might as well go all out.

He stood at his full height, almost eye level with Steve, and leaned in.

The kiss was not even close to perfect. In fact, as far as kisses go, it was probably in the bottom three for Steve. Eddie chose not to think about how he screwed it all up.

But once the initial shock wore off, and Eddie put his teeth away, Steve’s hand cupped Eddie’s cheek and he licked past his lips.

Leave it to Steve to turn this around, make it something worth the risk.

Their lips moved in sync, both of them deepening the kiss without making it too wet, too filthy for a public space.

It was, dare he say, romantic.

Most kisses Eddie had managed to have were dirty and rough, hidden away in dark bars and alleyways, not exactly prime teen romance.

Of course Steve was good at this, of course he made Eddie melt against him, and of course Eddie was going to start writing hearts around Steve’s name in his notebook as if they were high school sweethearts.

When they pulled apart, it took him a minute to open his eyes. How stereotypical.

Steve was already looking at him, softer than he probably deserved.

“You’re pretty good at that,” Eddie breathed out.

“It’s been mentioned.” Steve’s lips turned up in a smirk before he pulled away completely. “Let’s go.”

They walked back through the school, stopping at Eddie’s locker to grab one of his textbooks as if he actually would use it. By now, he didn’t really need the textbooks to get his work done. And he was actually committed to getting it done this time around.

They were quiet as they continued out to the parking lot, only a few cars belonging to teachers left, maybe a few students stuck here for football or basketball practice. Steve’s car was towards the back, but Eddie’s was almost all the way in the grass field by the main road. It was less risky leaving it further away, less likely that anyone would slash the tires or key the side.

“You’re sure you can drive?” Steve asked as they stood outside his car.

“Yeah. Only five minutes to the trailer. It’ll be fine.” Eddie shrugged like it was nothing, but he was actually a little worried the kiss set him too off balance to focus on the road. Fuck the subspace, Steve’s lips were like discovering a new galaxy.

“Can I call you later? To check on you?” Steve seemed hesitant to ask.

“Uh, yeah? Do you…have my number?”

Steve shook his head, opening the door to his car and reaching into the glovebox to find a pen and an old receipt. As Eddie wrote down the number to the trailer, he thought about how much worse this would be tomorrow, how shitty it would be to have had this absolutely out of this world experience with the one person he never thought he could and then be left with scraps for the rest of his life.

“You uh, you don’t have to call, man. Don’t feel pressured. My uncle will be home so it’s not like I’ll be alone.”

Steve took the paper and pen back, folding the paper and putting it in his pocket and throwing the pen back into the car.

“I’m gonna call.” Steve moved a piece of Eddie’s hair from in front of his face. “You got a phone in your room?”

“No, but the one we have reaches to the bathroom?” Why the hell did he need one in his room?

“Good. Need you to be alone.”

“Steve, what the hell does that mean?”

“How else am I supposed to tell you what I wanna do to you?”

Well, fuck.

Day two: ao3 | tumblr

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #subeddieweek #sub eddie munson #dom steve harrington

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arkhammaid · 10 months ago

Text

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ THE LIGHTNING ON TRACK | SERIES MASTERLIST

CURRENTLY ON INDEFINITE HIATUS!!

you can check out my other writing on my ao3 <3

fandom. formula one & mcu

about. the first daughter of the stark family drives for their brand new team in formula one

pairing. none yet, all platonic (can be changed in the future)

content warnings. written in 3rd person, fem!reader, written and smau chapters, not edited/proofread

notes. welcome, welcome! i've seen so many reader!driver stories here so i decided to contribute :) as for now, i have no final destination with this story, but i do have some ideas i definitely want in. pls feel free to share your own ideas!!

ABOUT THE STARK RACING F1 TEAM.

the family. the team. the public opinion. the grid's reaction.

ABOUT THE PAST.

before the family. before formula one.

ABOUT THE PRESENT.

the 2025 season.

-> the livery launch. the strategy call. the pre-season testing. the wait for first race. the training. the interview.

the 2026 season.

ABOUT THE FUTURE.

ABOUT THE ALTERNATE UNIVERSES.

taglist. @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @aimixx , @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @akiraquote , @kiiyoooo , @nichmeddar , @nothingfuninthislife , @fionaschicken , @lyrasconstellation , @spideybv28 , @keii134 , @starssfall , @tpwkstiles , @fangirl-dot-com , @nichmeddar , @lady-laura-speaks , @nikfigueiredo , @hinamesgigantica , @brakingboundaries , @almostjollypizza , @yoremins , @raizelchrysanderoctavius , @celesteblack08 , @watermelon-sugars-things , @lighttsoutlewis , @radiantdanvers , @vellicora , @sterredem , @hiireadstuff , @jolixtreesunn , @mypage-myfandoms , @nelly187 @greeneyesandsunshine , @fulla02 , @welovediaaxx , @whyamireadingthis , @67-angelofthelordme-67 , @blueberry64857959 , @winchesterwife27 , @six-call , @skywalker1dream , @mellowarcadefun , @cherry-piee , @peterholland04 , @motorsportloverf1 , @renarots , @msbyjackal , @woozarts , @leclucklerc , @yl90

crossed off tags mean i can't tag you!

DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE SERIES TAGLIST? please leave a comment on this post or send a non anonymous ask!

ARKHAM MAID 2024

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 female driver #fem!driver #fem!driver reader #female driver #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 scenario #— ˚₊‧⁺˖ creations #— ˚₊‧⁺˖ lightning on track

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chugging-bleach · 3 months ago

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"SOMETHING TO LOOK FORWARD TO." - the 4 times you almost met jason and the one time you did.

✩ ⋅ ⋅✩ ⋅ ⋅ ✩ ⋅ ⋅✩ ⋅ ⋅✩ ⋅ ⋅ ✩ ⋅ ⋅✩ ⋅ ⋅✩ ⋅ ⋅ ✩ ⋅ ⋅ ✩ ⋅

summary. you regret not speaking to jason todd in high school. then, another masked vigilante by the name of red hood seems to make all your regrets dissolve.

tags. fluff, light angst, slight hurt/comfort, slow burn, eventual happy ending

a/n. this idea came from a jason todd x <y/n> fic i am in the process of writing (if you would like to know when it comes out, follow or check out my ao3). i hope you enjoy reading this <3 feel free to request anything you would like to see me write.

the first time.

gotham high, located at the heart of crime alley, was for lack of a better word shitty. you hated studying, you never got along with anyone and prayed that the time went by fast. the only thing that made you keep going back to high school was staring at that handsome boy with bright blue eyes and ratty black hair who sat a seat ahead of you. how he made it to first place each year was a mystery to you since he was constantly skipping class.

what kept you going was looking forward to that one day he would attend class and then you could stare at the back of his head to make the time go by faster. one day you knew that you would want to freeze this moment and make it last forever, but for now, staring will do. not like jason would care and catch you looking.

then one day he completely stopped showing up. you thought he would come back. but then you graduated. without him ever returning. you hated yourself for never trying to talk to him. you should have spoken to him rather than staring holes into him. actually, staring at him must have been super creepy. were you the reason why he stopped coming to school? creeped out by the girl who bore holes into him, just staring and staring? regardless of the real reason, you know that you would always regret not talking to him. not being able to thank him for making school a little better.

the second time.

as was routine for gothamites, you get saved from some large attack from some big shot criminal at the hands of batman and robin. you were a bit upset at being saved since you really wouldn't mind dying at the hands of a rouge robber. you had nothing to look forward to. there wasn't enough money to go to university. bills piled up no matter how many jobs you worked.

you snap out of your thoughts when robin puts a shock blanket around you and instead of being grateful, you throw it on the floor. you remember that you have to get back to work otherwise you'll be behind on rent again.

"where are you going?" batman placed a hand on your shoulder to stop you.

"work," you simply say.

"stay put for a while. we need to make sure you're alright."

"well, i won't be alright if i don't work and miss rent. again."

you just talked back to the batman. maybe he will kill you and then you might die quicker than working yourself to death.

"let me handle this one," and then robin is making you sit down next to him. you were trying to avoid robin knowing that you will project your regret on to him. the regret of never being able to talk to jason since both jason and robin have eerily similar features. work is just an excuse. you need to leave.

"please. i won't make rent. let me go."

"mad respect talking to him like that. but, you inhaled some poison gas. take the antidote. then you can go back."

"give it to the others here. i don't give a fuck."

you know you shouldn't be this angry. but you are this angry. at yourself. and robin has made that anger surface.

"how about i give you something to look forward to? then you'll stay for the antidote?"

"the person i looked forward to seeing disappeared before i could talk to him," you say before you can stop yourself. you feel ridiculous admitting it, that just staring at some random boy gave you hope. but it did. and now that boy wasn't there anymore.

"that dumbass didn't know how lucky he was."

you shook your head. "he truly is lucky. he was adopted by bruce wayne. i just... he made school less shitty even though he doesn't even know who i am and before i could thank him he was gone. it's stupid, i know, but i just wanted to say thank you to him. like, thank you, jason. that's it. and i'll never get to say it."

robin puts the shock blanket around you again. he was silent. "i'm sorry for saying all that. but now that i said it, i'll thank you instead of him." you turned and stared at robin's eye mask, imagining it was jason. it wasn't that difficult, considering they both had the same bright blue eyes and ratty black hair.

"thank you, jason for not getting creeped out by all my staring." you feel much lighter. maybe you just had to talk to someone. robin rises from your side.

"i'm sure that dumbass heard your thanks, though i'm sure he doesn't deserve any of it."

third time.

life at gotham, heart of wacky and dangerous criminals, was for lack of a better word still shitty. you never saved up nearly enough to go to university but managed to get a decent-ish job at three diners which paid nearly enough for being located in gotham.

you were wiping down table tops and listening to the news playing the death anniversary of jason todd, bruce wayne’s adopted son. it was tragic to die that young. and you were surprised the news didn't leave you as heartbroken as you had thought it would.

you continued wiping down the counters, when for the third time today, thugs burst in and demanded to be served. as per policy, you served anyone especially the dangerous sort. before you could get menus for them and think of how to explain to the next diner that yes, thugs broke in after her shift ended yet again, a person wearing a red helmet/mask comes inside, drags the thugs outside with a "not so fast," and that's that. your shift's over. instead of missing the next job, you will be arriving late, which won't be that difficult to explain.

you finish tidying up and leave.

the strange man with the red helmet has tied up the thugs and left them at the side of the pavement. he is ready to leave on his motorcycle. you make a move to leave, accustomed to strange costumed people taking care of thugs like this.

"for all that trouble, want a ride?" you think being kidnapped won't be too bad. not like you have anything to look forward to.

"sure."

just as quickly as he had tied those thugs up without fanfare, you were sitting behind him, arms wrapped around his waist. you whispered the directions of the place adding, "didn't know this was part of the whole hero thing. giving people free lifts to places."

"you would be surprised how much money i burn on gas for these free lifts."

he drove way too fast. you tightened your hold on him, afraid you were gonna fly off. any conversation was impossible with the loud noise of the engine. but it felt freeing to go this recklessly fast.

"wonder who you need to see here."

oh no. you gave the wrong directions. you were not planning to do this. damn the news for reminding you. you promised last year was the last time you would do this.

before you can stop yourself, you're crying. you were heartbroken after all. "i don't know why i do this to myself each year. he never even knew me," you choke out. you had gotten off the bike at some point, expecting this person to leave.

"if it gives you peace to visit this person, you should. besides this punk is lucky to have you visit him."

ignoring the sense of deja vu you were getting, you shook your head. "jason was anything but lucky. he died so young. i never knew him. i wish i knew him better." he lended you his shoulder to cry on. you had more regrets than you had previously thought. "he did not deserve to die young."

your tears sat on top of his leather jacket and you moved to wipe them away with your napkin. instead, he stops you, wiping your tears away with the pads of his gloved fingers.

"he seriously is a lucky boy to have you visit and cry for him"

fourth time.

you were saving up money to move out of this shithole. nothing was tying you down to this place and there were new vigilantes and new villains rising everyday. none of the other cities were safe, but you had heard they offered better jobs and more affordable bills. less leaky ceilings. you never went to college so jobs still were a little difficult to get, but otherwise, you would be paid more as a server at anyother city, except gotham. if not working for wayne enterprises, jobs were a struggle in gotham. life was a struggle. you remarked upon how you made it this far.

then, someone broke through your window.

the first thought - for fuck's sake, who was gonna pay for it?

second - oh it's red hood, he will pay for it.

this is not the first time a vigilante crashed through your window. being a gothamite sucks.

you brushed the pieces of glass away from his leather jacket and surveyed him for damage. he did not seem hurt. only mildly annoyed. the red helmet wouldn't be enough to conceal his reaction from her.

"coffee as per usual? along with the window repairs and cleanup?"

you swear he is frowning under that helmet. not at you, but at the person who threw him. you don't wait for his answer, already preparing his coffee.

"help me up?"

"what? are your legs broken?"

"they are if you will carry me."

"red, combining you and the rest of your little clique this is the tenth time my window has been broken. sixth time by you, alone."

the person you met on jason todd's death anniversary was red hood. he was an anti-batman vigilante and you couldn't have given two shits. except, red made you give two shits. after that first day at the diner, he kept coming back to pick up food during your shifts. when the diner inevitably burned down, he came to the other diner you started working at. then it was crashing through your apartment window. then it was crashing with robin through your apartment window.

you were overjoyed when he came, but it was best you push him away before he got too close, and up and disappeared like jason had. looking forward to things like this was a curse.

"hope i make it to a seventh. seventh times the charm."

"charm for what?" you say, slamming the mug in front of him, with a little more force than you wanted to.

"for my charm to work on you." he winked and took a sip from the cup. his other hand rested on top of yours and your heart wrenched in your chest. you really wanted to know red hood better. you wanted him to keep crashing through your window instead of entering through the front door. but then he would die during patrol and you would have nothing more to look forward to. again. you carefully free your hand from his, ignoring his puzzled expression and the dejection you feel separating from him.

you have to stop this. "listen, you shouldn't see me anymore."

"why?

"i don't...don't need you to disappear too. jason disappearing was horrible and he wasn't safe with the most powerful billionaire in gotham. you break in through people's windows. what if next time you break something? like your spine or..."

you expect red hood to laugh at you. you were a minuscule, microscopic part of jason's life. he shouldn't be this huge a part of your life. if he were alive, you knew the regret wouldn't eat you up inside. but he wasn't alive. you couldn't hold that moment as a happy memory of a stupid thing you did in high school.

"all i'm hearing is, breaking your window is fine but not my bones. i guess that's doable."

you smack him, knowing that it wouldn't even hurt. "i'm serious. besides, once i have enough money, i will be moving out of gotham. don't come here. please." you were miles away from moving out. you knew red hood knew that.

you did this to save yourself the hurt and regret, but as you saw him leave from the front door, you knew you caused yourself more hurt and regret than last time. jason was far away from the beginning. you had chances to get to know red hood better. used to have chances.

jason was dead. red hood was right in front of your eyes and interested to keep seeing you. you had messed up.

he would never come back.

the last time.

instead of wallowing in your heartbreak, it was time to give back to the community you grew up in. moving out was an impossible dream you gave up on. instead, you got more involved in elder homes and joined their knitting circles.

it had been a month since red hood was gone. you couldn't believe it had been an entire year since you saw him, on jason's death anniversary of all days. yes, you couldn't help but regret that you made another mistake. red hood knew about you and wanted to know you better, to the point where he broke into your house.

like clockwork, you went to go see jason's grave, finding out that the grave wasn't there anymore. it wouldn't be there anymore at the request of the wayne family.

you cried outside the gates of the cemetery, knowing that this wasn't where he was laid to rest. jason's real body was in wayne manor, not here. this was for the public.

with red hood gone, you had nothing left to look forward to. you were a dumbass.

"need a ride?" you thought you were hallucinating. you looked up with teary eyes and confirmed it was the red hood. except, his helmet was off. you stared at him, dumbfounded. he had dishevelled black hair and bright, blue eyes. you sniffled, letting him drag you to your feet. you shook your head.

"jason's grave isn't here."

you were clutching the flowers in your hands. the red hood took them from you and bowed, pink flushing his cheeks.

"yes, that's 'cause i'm here. thanks for the flowers."

you gaped at him. "you're jason? you mean your name is jason too?"

guess it checks out. red hood knew about your strange connection to jason todd so he didn't tell you his real name. he chuckled, pulling you close, pressing a gentle kiss on each of your glistening cheeks. if you weren't shocked, you probably would be ecstatic about this development.

"it's time you learnt more about jason todd rather than staring and let me learn about you, <y/n>. i have been looking forward to learning more about you."

//bonus//

jason had no idea about before the diner incident. he remembered the (y/n) from when he was robin, once they arrived at the cemetery. but, he didn’t remember anything from high school as he barely attended. then, his crush on (y/n) was born.

the batsiblings were tired of seeing jason delay his confession, so they threw him through the window. once jason took tim with him. this totalled the count - three times tim as casualty, one time jason and tim, six times jason. all the costs were billed to bruce wayne as 'civilian casualties' code for ‘of course we broke through the window. it’s the batmove to pick up chicks.'

#batman #batfam #jason todd #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #dc red hood #red hood #red hood x reader #jason todd fluff #jason todd angst #red hood fanfiction #jason todd fanfiction #red hood fluff #red hood angst

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demigodpolls · 2 months ago

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calling all PJO fanfic readers!

In the interest of acknowledging great works by fandom writers, DemigodPolls is going to share a big year-end collection of 2024 Percy Jackson fanfic recommendations! In the comment section below or on this AO3 post, leave recommendations for the best PJO fanfics you've read - but there is one major rule: they MUST have been published or last updated in 2024! No exceptions! Reblogs are turned on, but please do NOT leave your recommendations in the reblogs/tags! They will not be considered! Before commenting, make sure that you read the additional specifications below the cut first. If you have nothing to recommend, please do reblog to help support fandom writers and spread the word! Thank you!!!

What we want:

strong grammar

strong writing skills

accurate/interesting depictions of PJO characters

angst/romance/drama/adventure/friendship/character studies/etc

accurately tagged stories (i.e. stories that don't surprise you with untagged triggering content)

stories written with love for the percy jackson universe and its characters

What we DON'T want:

stories that were published/last updated before 2024

stories about ships that would be age-inappropriate in canon, unless the characters are CLEARLY aged up in the story (e.g. no olympians x teenage characters, unless the younger character is explicitly an ADULT when they first meet in the fanfic)

stories that contain non-c*n, inc*st, p*dophilia

stories under 1000 words

stories that fall under "character x everyone"

stories about original characters (stories that contain some OCs in non-protagonist roles are fine, character x reader/self-inserts are fine)

stories that bash other ships/characters (i.e., don't recommend percabeth fics that bash rachel/perachel)

stories that contain non-PJO crossovers (except for RRverse crossovers, i.e. pjo + tkc is fine, toa alone is fine, tkc alone is not, pjo + harry potter is not)

stories that contain gore/extreme violence/extreme bodily harm

stories that contain cheating/infidelity (I just don't want to read those, sorry)

dialogue-only fanfics/texting-only fanfics

stories that contain W*TTG sp0ilers

can I recommend multiple things?

yes! just make sure to categorize them correctly under the relevant prompts.

can I recommend my own story?

yes, but you are highly, highly encouraged to simultaneously recommend at least one other fanfic that you yourself did not write - let's spread the love! (not required)

is smut okay?

yes! but you must specify clearly that the story contains smut in your comment, and please don't use explicit/overly sexual language in your recommendation. I also reserve the right to refuse to consider stories that contain k*nks I don't want to engage with. (ab0, hardcore bd$m, parental name k*nk to name a few)

are non-english fanfics okay?

you are absolutely welcome to recommend non-english fanfics to others in the comments! but I will not be able to put them on the final recommendation list, because I only speak english and I cannot personally vet their contents, cannot observe their grammar, and could be terribly misled by a translator. I'm very sorry! however, if you would like to put together a similar recommendation collection of non-english stories, I'd be happy to promote it on this blog.

is percico okay?

someone asked about this specifically, so here's my stance: percico is a controversial pairing due to the debated inappropriateness of the canon age gap (approx. 3 years). I personally consider 3 years between minors to be juuust beyond my comfort zone (2 years), so please respect my decision to abide by my own comfortability and refuse to consider stories that feature age gaps of this size or larger involving minors. however, you can recommend percico fics where the age gap is explicitly made smaller, or fics where nico and percy are both explicitly adults! this same rule applies to any other ship in a similar circumstance - check the wiki for canon ages if you're unsure! (and to be clear, this is solely about ages, not about the individual merit of the pairing itself. respectfully - this is me drawing a boundary about what I am comfortable with, so do not argue with me on this topic).

is caleo okay?

this pair is even more controversial nowadays, so here's my stance when it comes to weird magical circumstances: within the logic of the pjo universe, some things that seem strange from a mortal perspective are standard within the books. i.e., it's not weird to date fellow demigods, even if the person you're dating is technically your aunt/uncle/cousin/etc. likewise, it's not "weird" for a teenager to date an immortalized or de-immortalized teenager, because... I genuinely don't know, that's just how the book logic works. for that reason, caleo works are accepted. we're going to apply this same logic to pairs like theyna, which could also potentially have murky circumstances (although I do consider thaluke to be especially iffy, because it heavily depends on the situation that people write them in - so if you're unsure, go ahead and submit it, and I'll use my best judgement from there). however, I cannot begin to express my extreme disinterest in discourse about immortal dating ethics - like, I would rather do anything else. not trying to be sassy here, but I'm going to ask you guys to not pick a fight about these topics, for the simple reason that I have zero interest in debating over situations that could never occur in real-life.

are incomplete/discontinued stories okay?

yes! I'd prefer stories that have at least three chapters, but this is not required. completed one-shots are also fine!

If someone already recommended a story that I like, should I vouch for it?

if you would like to, then absolutely!! you can respond to the appropriate prompt from this account in the comments, or you can reply to the person making the recommendation. just make sure to explicitly state which story you're advocating for.

Comments that do not follow these guidelines may be deleted!

How to make recommendations:

There are two places in which you can make your recs! You can click here to leave them on an AO3 mirror of this post, or do so in the comment section below. If the latter, continue reading. Please leave the story name, author username, story rating, main ship, and main characters in your comments - and if you'd like, definitely add some words about why you like it! AO3 direct links are not necessary, but super appreciated. But if it's not on AO3, please ensure that you make clear where exactly I can locate the story. In the comments below, you'll see comments that you can reply to, sorted by ships/lack thereof. Please sort your recommendations by replying to them accordingly (i.e. if you want to recommend 2 solangelo fics and 1 valgrace fic, leave the 2 solangelo recs under the solangelo prompt, then do the same in the valgrace prompt). You MUST explicitly state somewhere if the fanfic contains smut. If you're not sure where to put your recommendations, make your best guess - but absolutely do NOT intentionally mis-categorize your recommendations (i.e, if the pair is not canon, do not put it in the canon pairing section. Seriously. This makes things much more difficult for me while organizing fics, and I'll probably delete your comment anyway.) Lastly, please be mature about shipping. Nothing irritates me more than fighting about percy jackson ships in 2024. If you see fanfics recommended about pairings (or characters!) that you hate, do the mature thing and just scroll past it/do not engage. Character hate and ship hate is not tolerated on this blog. I am very serious about this - if you are starting a fuss about ships/characters, your comments will be deleted and your account will be permanently blocked. Respect your fellow fandom-mates! I will do my best to moderate this comment section, but before looking through them, please understand that I am not responsible for your individual well-being, and there may be fanfic recommendations that are not appropriate for minors/might contain triggering content/etc.

Here's a little form for those of you who find this easier to use, but you don't have to use it!! However, PLEASE do include the following information in your comment regardless:

story name: author: rating: ship: main characters: additional comments (what's it about? why do you like it? etc):

Don't forget, fanfics published/last updated in 2024 only!

Thank you so, so much for participating! The collection won't be published on this blog until late December, so until then, take your time, check those bookmarks, and read new PJO fanfics! Much love to all of you ♡

- demigodpolls

(art by @viria)

(dividers by @cafekitsune)

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