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societyfolklore · 2 months ago

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We Couldn’t Stop

Title: We Couldn’t Stop Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader x Steve Rogers

Summary: During a sweep of a forgotten HYDRA lab, you, Steve, and Bucky trigger an old aerosol dispersal system. No one realizes what hit you until it’s too late. Now stuck in quarantine- burning, aching, and caged in with two dominant, unraveling super soldiers- you’re forced to ride out the drug’s effects together.

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: / Explicit Content /18+, Minors DNI, Sex Pollen / Drugged Lust, Threesome MFM, Dubious Consent (due to drug influence), Double Penetration, Oral (F & M receiving), Praise Kink, Rough Sex/Overstimulationm Fingering, anal ply, cum play, Competitive Doms

A/N: my entry for @avengers-assemble-bingo for April Kinky Bingo Square: A3- Threesome Card Number: KB003

The mission was supposed to be a simple sweep- an old HYDRA lab buried deep beneath the forest floor, long abandoned, just a routine retrieval run for leftover tech and encrypted files that could pose a threat if they fell into the wrong hands. You, Steve, and Bucky had done that sort of thing more times than you could count. Clear the rooms, grab the drives, secure any volatile tech, and call for extraction. In and out. Easy.

You should’ve known better the moment you stepped inside. The facility was too quiet, too intact. Dust settled thick on the floors, but the lights still flickered dimly overhead, and the security systems were half-alive, humming low like they were waiting.

You were the one who found the sealed door- reinforced, heavily protected, and drawing power. It was locked down tight, tucked at the end of a corridor where the flickering lights didn’t quite reach. You called the others over.

"You think it’s storage?" Bucky asked, frowning at the biometric pad.

"Locked and powered," you muttered. "Could be data. Or maybe just a lab they forgot to scrub."

"Let's not poke the bear," Steve said, but he stepped up beside you anyway, scanning the door. "Looks like it's sealed for a reason."

That should've been the moment you backed off. But your fingers were already dancing over the keypad, overriding the old security system. The panel blinked. Clicked.

"I’ve almost got- "

The door hissed. Not wide- barely a few inches.

A soft spray hit you all in the face.

It came fast. Silent. A puff of pressurized mist like compressed air, followed by the faintest scent- ozone, chemical sweetness, almost floral.

You stumbled back, coughing once.

"What the hell was that?" Bucky barked, wiping his face with his sleeve.

Steve grabbed your arm, pulling you away from the door. "You okay? Did you breathe it in?"

"Yeah, but- I don’t feel anything."

"We’re all covered in it," Bucky snapped, glaring at the faint sheen settling over Steve’s shoulders. "Fucking hell."

"Close it," Steve ordered.

Bucky slammed the door shut, sealing it again with a growl. "Old security measure. Shit."

"We’ll report it," Steve said, but his jaw was clenched.

The spray clung to your skin. Sweet. Heavy. And whatever it was, it was in all three of you now.

~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~

By the time the jet touched down back at the compound, you were already flushed and aching, your heart thudding too fast in your chest. Whatever had come out of that door- it clung to your skin, settled in your lungs, and made everything inside you feel off. You weren’t the only one affected. Bucky was pacing the perimeter of the quinjet like a caged animal. Steve hadn’t spoken for the last twenty minutes, but his white-knuckled grip on the back of a seat said everything.

You’d hoped the decontamination shower would be the end of it. But blood was still taken. Swabs run over your skin. Scans. More questions. Until finally, they left the three of you in the quarantine room- one sterile space, no outside contact, and cameras in every corner.

You wanted to apologize. This had been your mistake. But Bucky’s expression was pure storm as he continued to pace like a tiger in a zoo. Steve’s face was unreadable- steely, distant, controlled. So you kept your mouth shut and tried not to scratch at your skin like you desperately wanted.

Soft static crackled, and then Tony’s voice filled the room over the speaker. "It’s biochemical bonding serum," he said. "Looks like it's engineered to push subjects into a state of hyperarousal and submission, designed to override inhibition and drive instinctual behaviors."

Your stomach dropped. What kind of mess had you landed yourself in?

"How long?" Bucky snapped, voice sharp.

"We'll have to check back on the decay and metabolic rate, and we- "

"What Bruce means is- we don't know," Tony cut in. "For you guys, it might be a matter of hours. Little Miss Curiosity might be stuck with it in her system a little longer."

You flinched and shied away from the speaker, burying your face in your hands.

"We're working on it, don't stress. It shouldn't kill you," Tony added casually.

"Big fucking whoop," Bucky growled, pressing a fist into the wall. Steve shot him a look of disproval.

"Buck.." His tone warning.

"Just, try and stay calm, guys," Bruce said, trying to sound optimistic. "It'll be alright."

"Don’t make a mess," Tony said, his voice laced with sarcasm. "We’ll keep you posted."

And just like that, you were cut off again. Biochemical- engineered arousal.

"Well, you heard him," Steve sighed, leaning back against the wall, scrubbing a hand over his face. "We just have to keep our heads. It can’t last forever."

That was easy for him to say. Both Steve and Bucky had super soldier serum in their veins- enhanced bodies that could regulate, adapt, maybe even resist. You… you were human. And you could already feel your body reacting in ways that made your skin itch and your blood feel like it was boiling.

You didn't say anything. Just shifted your weight, trying not to squirm. The heat beneath your skin pulsed steadily now, like it was alive.

"This is fucked," Bucky muttered, pacing again. "They just dumped us in here like we’re some kind of experiment."

"They’re doing what they can," Steve said, tone calm but tight. "We don’t know enough yet. Getting worked up won’t help."

"Worked up?" Bucky turned on him, eyes flashing. "You don’t feel that?"

Steve’s jaw flexed. "Of course I feel it."

"Then quit acting like you don’t."

You glanced between them, heart racing. The tension in the room was building again, only this time it wasn’t from anger- it was something heavier. Thicker. Clinging to the air like smoke.

And under it all, that hum beneath your skin only grew louder.

Hours had passed.

You'd started pacing a little while ago, unable to sit still. Movement helped. Not much- but it was something. You were going through the water they'd left in the room like you were dying of thirst. You were hot, sticky, your tank damp and clinging to your body, and you were doing everything you could to ignore the throbbing pulse between your legs.

You kept moving. Pacing. Trying to shake it off.

Steve watched from the far cot, jaw tight. His shirt was damp, his breath shallow, but he was sitting like he was trying to pretend everything was normal.

Bucky was pacing again, eyes locked on you more often than not, his jaw clenched so tight it looked like it might crack. “She smells different,” he muttered. “Fuck.”

His words made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. The rough, raw sound of his voice made your head twitch like it was a physical thing pulling at you.

"Gonna try and sleep," you muttered, not looking at either of them.

Maybe you'd be able to sleep through the worst of it. Maybe if you were lucky, your body would calm down. You slipped behind the thin curtain, stepping into the tiny corner of privacy around your cot. Laying down, the heat of your body only seemed to intensify. Your skin felt suffocated, and with a frustrated sigh, you peeled your tank top over your head, leaving you in just your bra, hoping the exposure would help you breathe easier.

It didn’t.

You curled onto your side, arms around your stomach, thighs pressed tight together. The ache between your legs was a constant, heavy throb now. Maybe… maybe you could just handle your own needs. Just enough to take the edge off. Anything to ease the ache.

Your hands trembled as you pulled the thin blanket around you and lay on the cot. There was a small curtain for privacy, but it did nothing to muffle the sounds when your fingers slipped beneath your waistband.

You tried to be quiet. Tried to hold your breath. But your body was on fire, and even the gentlest brush of your fingers sent you bucking.

A whimper escaped, broken and desperate.

And then you heard it- Steve’s voice. Low. Strained.

“Don’t- don’t do that.”

You froze. “I- I can’t- ”

Still, you didn’t stop. You rubbed faster, then slower, your fingers diving inside of you, pressing deeper, trying every angle- but nothing worked. Every shift of your hand sent sparks across your nerves, your breath hitching with each pulse of pressure, but the fire wouldn’t break. Your legs trembled, your toes curled, but it all stayed out of reach.

You changed angles, tried circling your clit with trembling fingers while your other hand held onto the edge of the cot like it could ground you. You rocked your hips up, whispered pleas into the dark, but it wasn’t enough. Not even close. You needed more- needed them- but all you had were your own shaking hands and the unbearable ache growing between your legs.

Your breath hitched again as frustration bloomed hot and frantic in your chest. You were soaking, your thighs slick, the air sticky with the scent of your arousal. Your skin was flushed and clammy, your body locked in this endless loop of need- and yet you still couldn’t fall over that edge. Not like this. Not alone.

"You gonna keep pretending you don’t want her?" Bucky asked, voice low and rough, growling on the other side of the curtain.

Steve didn’t move at first, but his voice followed, strained. "I can smell her arousal from here, Buck. You think I’m not affected?"

"She’s whimpering, Steve. Sounds like music to me."

"We’re not doing this. We can’t- "

"Fuck this. She needs someone."

"Don’t you fucking touch her," Steve snapped.

"Then you do something," Bucky fired back.

Silence followed. You pressed your fingers deeper, hips rocking, but it wasn’t working. You were going to explode- your body was wound so tight it hurt.

Your fingers weren’t enough. You begged, voice cracking, desperate and broken.

"Please... please someone- "

Someone pulled the curtain back. Bucky’s eyes were dark. Blown wide. He didn’t speak. It hurt. “I can’t…” you whimpered, barely able to speak. “It’s not working…”

Your hips shifted again instinctively, your fingers still caught between your thighs, but the tension was unbearable. You were so wet, so swollen with need, it was maddening- and yet release stayed just out of reach. Your body craved more than your own touch could give.

They both appeared, stepping past the curtain without a word. You could see it in their faces- this was affecting them just as much. Steve’s eyes were dark, jaw clenched. Bucky looked wrecked, barely human with how sharp and hungry his expression had become.

You writhed again on the cot, body shaking, and Steve moved first- his weight shifting over you as he pressed your shoulders down into the mattress with steady, unyielding hands.

"Stay still," he said, voice gravel-thick.

At the same time, Bucky grabbed your wrist and gently pulled your hand away from you.

You whined, hips arched up, as Bucky’s gaze dropped to your slick fingers. He looked transfixed. Obsessed. His mouth parted before he dragged his tongue along your digits, groaning low in his chest at the taste.

Then- without breaking eye contact- he brought your hand to Steve.

"Tell me again we shouldn’t do this," Bucky said, voice rough and knowing.

Steve hesitated, staring at your hand, your eyes, then your body.

"...Steve?" you pleaded, chest heaving. A bead of sweat slid down your ribs, slicking your skin as the heat inside you pulsed like a second heartbeat. "Help... please."

Steve’s jaw flexed. His eyes raked over your flushed, trembling body, lingering where your bra had ridden up from the way you were squirming, the curve of your thighs glistening in the low light.

Bucky didn’t speak. He just stood there beside him, wild-eyed and rigid, chest rising and falling with short, shallow breaths. The scent of you filled the air. Thick. Sweet. Desperate.

Steve exhaled through his nose, heavy and slow like he was trying to exhale restraint. It didn’t work.

"You’re going to regret begging so pretty, sweetheart," he murmured, finally moving closer, the promise behind his words like thunder rolling through your veins.

~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~

They were both on you.

You didn’t know who moved first- Steve’s hand slid up your thigh, firm and sure, while Bucky’s mouth was suddenly at your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below your ear. The tension shattered. Clothing came off in frantic tugs- your joggers peeled away, your bra unclasped and discarded. Steve’s tank was tossed aside. Bucky’s sweats hit the floor with a low rustle.

Heat and skin and breath surrounded you. Their bodies pressed in, solid and hot and overwhelming. Steve's chest pinned you down as he kissed you- hard and consuming- his tongue sliding against yours as he groaned into your mouth. His hands cupped your jaw, fingers splayed, tilting your head how he wanted it.

Bucky moved lower, lips trailing down your throat, teeth scraping along your collarbone. His hands gripped your hips, dragging you down the cot toward him with a roughness that made you moan. He kissed your stomach, your ribs, your inner thighs, worshipping each inch like it belonged to him.

You gasped, arching into the touch of both of them. Their mouths- wet and demanding. Their bodies- slick with sweat, grinding against you like they couldn't get close enough.

You'd all held out for so long. Now there was nothing but the letting go.

Every nerve ending in your body sparked like live wires with every touch- every graze of skin against skin sent jolts of unbearable sensation through you. It was impossible to stay still. Your limbs twitched, your hips rocked, your breath came in short, gasping pulls as your body tried to process too much, too fast.

“Don’t move,” Steve growled, voice rough but laced with something gentler beneath. “Too sensitive? No. You’re just not used to being handled right.”

Bucky pushed your legs open wider, guiding your knees apart until your calves hung off the edge of the cot, completely exposed, completely theirs. “She’s soaking,” Bucky breathed. “Fucking hell- she’s dripping down her thighs.” The cool air kissed your slick folds and made you shiver. Then his hand slid between your thighs again, and fingers plunged into you- two, maybe three. You didn’t even know whose they were anymore.

Steve’s mouth found your chest, teeth grazing over the top curve of your breast before his lips closed around your nipple. You sobbed, your body already arching upward from the overload.

The blonde growled against your skin, one hand gripping your jaw while the other tangled in your hair, yanking your head back just enough to bow your spine upward. You gasped, helpless, writhing between them, your body trembling from overstimulation.

“You’re taking it so well,” Steve murmured, voice low and rough. “Just like that. Good girl.”

“Look at her,” Bucky snarled. “That’s it, sweetheart- ride my hand. Come on. Take what you need.”

His fingers worked deep inside you, curling and thrusting, hitting that spot that made your legs twitch and your hips lift off the cot. His palm pressed against your clit with every motion, grinding you into the edge of bliss, holding you there with cruel precision. You could feel everything. Every ridge of his knuckles, every flex of his wrist. It was too much and not enough all at once.

You whimpered, your hands scrambling against the sheets, seeking something to hold onto as your body rocked with each relentless stroke. Steve bit gently at the underside of your jaw, his hand still twisted in your hair as he whispered praises that barely reached your ears over the rushing roar of need building inside you.

Steve’s mouth was on your chest again, sucking one nipple into the heat of his mouth while his hand massaged the other, groping you with a needy rhythm that only made it harder to breathe. His other hand had tangled itself in your hair again, gently tugging until your spine arched up off the cot, your body straining toward both of them.

Bucky’s metal thumb pressed into your clit, circling with just enough pressure to make your thighs jerk. Your breath hitched, head tipping back as you let out a broken moan.

"OH FUCK." you cried, fingers clawing at the side of the cot, knuckles white.

He didn’t stop. His fingers pumped into you, slick and steady, coaxing the sound out of your throat again and again. You felt like you were vibrating- nerve endings lit up with fire, each touch sparking through you like electricity.

“You hear that, punk?” Bucky’s voice dripped with ego. “That’s the sound of my fingers making her cry.” Steve shifted beside you, sitting up to watch, his eyes locked on where Bucky's fingers slid in and out of you. One of his hands moved down, low and out of sight, and you could see the tension in his jaw as he fought to keep control.

Bucky glanced back at him, grinning as he curled his fingers just right and made you cry out again.

"Look at her, Stevie," Bucky growled, his voice rough and ragged with arousal. He didn’t even look up, just watched his fingers slide in and out of you like it was the most important thing in the world. "She’s writhing just from my fingers. What happens when I put my cock in?"

"You’ll wait," Steve snapped, voice sharp, strained with barely checked control. He was flushed, jaw tight, clearly fighting the same battle Bucky was already losing.

"God, look at her," Bucky muttered again, breath coming faster. "Fuck, I want her mouth. I want every part."

You couldn’t answer. Your vision blurred. Every nerve in your body felt like it had snapped tight, vibrating with unbearable pressure.

And then it broke.

You came- hard.

Your whole body convulsed as the orgasm tore through you. Your legs kicked against the cot, arms flailing blindly for purchase. Steve had to hold you down, one hand braced across your chest, the other still tangled in your hair as your back arched and a strangled sob tore from your throat.

It didn’t end quickly. The drug made it last- your climax dragging on and on, crashing over you in waves so powerful they left you gasping, wrecked.

You felt Bucky’s fingers slow inside you, easing off just enough to let you ride it out without breaking. But they didn’t stop touching you. They didn’t let you go.

And worst of all, the haze in your head didn’t clear like you hoped it would.

You were still shaking. Still needy.

Still burning.

You were a panting mess, your skin still hot and your chest tight when one of them scooped you up and lay you out on the cool floor. The shock of it made you gasp, the chill a sudden relief against your fevered skin. You blinked your eyes open, dazed, limbs slack and breath ragged.

"You’re such a mess for us, baby," Bucky murmured, crouched above you now. His voice was low, ruined with hunger. "That sweet little body of yours wasn’t made to handle all this, was it?"

Your eyes found him- Bucky, kneeling near your face now, his cock hard and leaking, so close it blurred your thoughts. He looked feral, undone, lips parted like he was barely restraining himself.

Your tongue slipped out to lick your lips without thinking. The taste of your own sweat clung to your skin, but all you could focus on was him. The way his chest rose and fell, the way his fist clenched at his thigh.

Your mind narrowed to a single point of clarity.

You wanted him in your mouth.

You leaned forward slowly, licking the bead of precum off his tip before taking him in fully- hungry, needy, your lips stretching around the thick, velvet length of him. Bucky’s breath stuttered, and he let out a ragged groan as your mouth sealed around him.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he gasped, one hand flying to your hair, not to guide but to anchor himself. “So fucking pretty like this- taking me so deep. Look at those lips- look at that mouth.”

You moaned around him, the vibrations making him hiss. He was hot, heavy, pulsing against your tongue, and you hollowed your cheeks to take him deeper, until your nose pressed against the base and he swore low under his breath.

“Messy little mouth,” Bucky panted. “So eager. You needed this, didn’t you? Needed something to suck while we ruin the rest of you.”

You were lost in it- the taste of him, the heat, the way he twitched when your tongue flicked just right. Spit gathered at the corners of your mouth as you worked him with sloppy desperation, gagging slightly as you bobbed your head in a steady rhythm.

Just then, you felt Steve’s hands at your hips, steady and sure. He shifted your lower body, pulling your legs open and up until you were spread out for him on the floor.

“You liked Buck's fingers? Let’s see how you do on my cock,” Steve growled against your ear, his voice dark and thick with restraint.

You gasped around Bucky’s cock, the moan caught in your throat turning into a garbled sound of pleasure as Steve aligned himself behind you. His fingers dug into your thighs, holding you wide as his tip pressed against your entrance- already slick, fluttering, aching.

He pushed in slow, filling you inch by inch, and every nerve inside you lit up in electric spasms. Your muscles fluttered around him, clenching and pulsing as he stretched you open, the thick drag of him stealing your breath.

The pressure, the fullness, the stretch- it was overwhelming. You sobbed around Bucky, the vibration of your moan making him groan above you, his hips twitching as he fought not to thrust.

Steve bottomed out with a hiss, his hands gripping tighter like he needed the anchor. Inside you, he throbbed, deep and perfect. You felt stretched to the edge of your limits, your inner walls fluttering in frantic spasms around him, struggling to adjust and clench all at once. Your body didn’t know what to do- pull him in deeper or push him out.

It was too much. It was everything. Your head was spinning.

They started to move- slow at first. Steve dragging back only to sink in again, deliberate, controlled, while Bucky’s cock bumped the back of your throat as he rocked forward with a groan. You gagged, whined, clung to them both with your mouth and body.

You were stuck in it now. The lust. The drug. The heat. There was no thought left, only sensation. Only how it felt to be stretched open in two directions, trembling and gasping.

They didn’t talk to you anymore. They talked about you.

“She’s so sensitive,” Bucky growled. “Poor thing doesn’t know what to do with herself.”

Steve grunted, his pace picking up. “Tight as hell. She’s pulsing like she doesn’t know whether she wants to come or cry.”

You tried to moan but it came out a broken, garbled sound around Bucky’s cock. Your tongue dragged along the underside of him as he pushed deeper, your throat fluttering as you swallowed around the stretch. Spit dripped from the corners of your mouth, tears tracking down your cheeks, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t.

Bucky’s hand tightened at the back of your head, not forcing, just holding you there, gazing down into your wet, dazed eyes. “That’s it, baby,” he groaned. “Fuck, look at you drooling all over me. You love it, don’t you?”

Your hips rocked back into Steve without meaning to as he thrust forward again, harder this time, grinding deep. Your nerves fired like sparks, the friction of his cock dragging against hypersensitive flesh sending bursts of pressure low in your belly. Your insides coiled, pleasure building with every thick, deliberate thrust, your body wound so tight it felt like you might snap apart.

“You’re doing so well for us,” Steve grunted, leaning down, his mouth hot at your ear. “Such a good girl, letting us use you like this.”

He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, changing the angle, driving in deeper. The stretch made you cry out around Bucky’s cock, throat flexing as your moan turned to a sob.

"That's it," Steve growled, pace quickening. "Fuck, so fucking wet and warm... you gonna cum, sweetheart? Gotta feel you squeeze me while you swallow Bucky."

Your body arched, heat crashing through your spine as Steve hit that perfect spot again and again, each thrust sending a jolt through your core. Your throat tightened around Bucky's cock, the vibration of your desperate moans making him curse under his breath.

“Fuck- she’s so close,” Steve panted, driving harder. “You feel that? She’s fucking pulsing.”

You sobbed around Bucky, tears streaking your cheeks, the pressure in your belly a coil tightening with no escape.

“She’s gonna lose it,” Bucky panted, watching the way you writhed. “Look at how she’s trembling. She needs cock.”

And then it snapped.

Your climax hit like a bolt of lightning, seizing your body with white-hot tension as your inner walls clamped down around Steve’s cock. You wailed around Bucky’s length, the cry vibrating through him as he let out a guttural groan.

“Fuck, that mouth- ” Bucky growled, watching your teary eyes roll back. “I’m gonna- shit- ”

He spilled down your throat with a grunt, his cock twitching between your lips, his hand holding you steady as you swallowed every drop of him while he pulsed.

The clenching spasms of your climax milked Steve mercilessly, dragging his own orgasm from him with a ragged curse. He slammed in deep, staying buried as he came hard, filling you with warmth that only made the pleasure burn hotter.

“Take it,” he groaned, his breath broken against your shoulder. “Take it all. Good fucking girl.”

Bucky sat back on his heels, pulling himself from your mouth with a wet pop, still hard, his cock glistening with your spit. “"Fuck... you’re unreal..." he panted, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing..pupils blown as he looked down at you.

Steve finally pulled out with a groan, the loss of him sudden and jarring, making you whimper. His cum followed, warm and slick as it dripped from your stretched pussy, pooling between your thighs.

His gaze dropped between your legs, transfixed. His eyes went heavy-lidded as he watched it leak from you, dripping down to your slick, twitching rim. Slowly, his fingers moved to your core, smearing the mess down lower, spreading it deliberately to your other entrance.

You gasped, twitching from aftershocks, your body still sensitive everywhere. His fingertip teased your tight hole, rubbing softly, slicking it with a practiced ease. You whimpered, already overwhelmed, but the moan that spilled from you was pure need.

“Damn, Stevie- you didn’t fuck her right if she’s still aching like this,” Bucky drawled, voice hoarse and edged with a smirk, watching the way your hips shifted restlessly on the floor.

You whimpered, the heat still rolling inside you, every nerve ending alive and twitching. The aftershocks made your muscles flutter, your body too sensitive and still so hungry. Steve didn’t bite back. He was too focused- his fingers slick with his own cum as he spread it lower, smearing it over your pussy and then circling your tight, twitching rim.

And then one thick finger pressed inward.

You gasped, whole body jolting, a broken sound catching in your throat as your body tried to clamp down instinctively. But Steve worked slowly, steadily, easing the finger deeper, the stretch sharp and slow as he began to work you open.

You felt your core clench around nothing as Steve worked his finger deeper. “I need- please, I need more, I can’t- ” you gasped, voice trembling. Your head was a mess, fogged with lust and the aftershocks still sparking under your skin. Steve kept up the slow pump of his finger, pushing in deeper, working more of his cum into your ass to keep you slick and open.

“Hear that, Steve?” Bucky said, voice thick with amusement, already fisting his own cock in lazy, slow strokes. “She wants more.”

Steve’s gaze didn’t waver, his finger sinking deeper, curling. You whimpered again.

“Can’t say no, can we?” Bucky added, grinning.

“Oh, I think I know exactly what our girl needs...” Steve muttered, voice thick with heat and control, as his hand disappeared between your thighs.

Steve pulled his finger from your ass just as Bucky got down onto the floor, reaching out to haul you up into his lap. Steve’s arms hooking under yours, supporting your limp, boneless body as they moved you together like you weighed nothing.

“Let’s get you on Buck now...” Steve purred near your ear, voice thick and smooth, a slow heat curling down your spine.

Bucky’s cock was already there- thick, hard, and waiting. They guided you together, Steve steadying you from behind while Bucky angled his cock to your entrance.

As Steve lowered you, your legs wrapped weakly around Bucky’s hips, and you felt the first stretch as his tip slid inside. A guttural groan ripped from Bucky’s throat, his hands tightening on your thighs.

“Fuck, baby,” he gritted out, voice rough and reverent. “You always take me so damn good. Still so fucking tight- even after Steve blew you open? Shit.”

“That’s a girl,” Steve murmured, voice low with praise. “Nice and slow... Want you to feel every inch of him, don’t you?”

You just whimpered and nodded, the need to be filled consuming, overwhelming, as the pair of them helped you sink down onto Bucky’s cock, inch by perfect inch.

Your head fell back against Steve’s shoulder as you settled fully onto Bucky, who thrust up into you with steady pressure. The heat and stretch made your whole body tremble. You could barely breathe, still twitching from your earlier climax. Then Bucky's hands gripped your hips tight.

“Oh fuck,” he hissed, hips rolling upward as he began to move you, guiding you into a rhythm. “Look at you. Still aching. Like how I feel doll?”

The moan that spilled from your mouth didn’t even sound like you anymore- wrecked, raw, and desperate.

You were unraveling under Bucky’s rhythm- the way he filled you had your mind slipping, your thoughts scattering with every deep, slow thrust, how every thrust hit deep, high inside, brushing against that spot that made you shudder. Your head lolled back onto Steve’s shoulder, eyes fluttering, lips parted around desperate little gasps.

“She bites her lip when I go deep. You see that?” Bucky said with a rough chuckle, voice wrecked but smug. “She likes my rhythm.”

You didn’t even notice the way Steve bent you forward over Bucky, hands guiding your body like you were something precious and fragile and already ruined.

You didn’t have time to think too much before you felt Bucky’s hands grip your ass, pulling you open as Steve shifted behind you. It wasn’t until the thick, spongy head of his cock pressed against somewhere you’d never let anyone touch that your eyes snapped open in surprise.

The first inch pushed into your ass slowly, carefully, but it still stole your breath.

“It’s too much- I can’t- wait- ” you gasped, voice cracking with overwhelmed panic as your body instinctively tried to jerk away.

But Bucky rocked his hips upward, pushing deep into your pussy again, and the shockwave of pleasure was enough to paralyze your resistance.

“Shh... it’s okay,” Steve murmured, arms wrapping around you from behind as he continued to press in. His voice was thick and coaxing, his control iron-tight. “I’ve got you. You’re doing so good for us.”

You sobbed, your whole body fluttering around them as Steve sank in deeper, the thin wall between your holes trembling with every inch he took. The two of them groaned in unison, voices rough and reverent as they filled you together.

You were caught between them now. Two super soldiers, all three of you lost in lust and need. Your face twisted with sensation as they held you there- one thick cock filling your pussy, the other spreading your ass open inch by inch. Both sunk to the hilt. You were impossibly full. You were shaking. Overwhelmed. Unable to process the stretch, the heat, the drag of their bodies inside you. It was too much. And you needed more.

“You’re both so… big- I’m gonna- fuck- ” you sobbed. You couldn’t believe how sensitive you’d become- how just being filled, just being stretched, could reduce you to this. You weren’t even moving, yet your body was already bracing to come undone again. There was no going back. No holding on. Just surrender.

You came without moving, the sensation of fullness alone tipping you over. Your body seized in the middle, core clenching violently, squeezing down on both of them at once as pleasure ripped through you like a lightning bolt.

Your voice cracked into a scream. You were gone- shaking, convulsing, burning from the inside out as your orgasm dragged through you with devastating force.

Both of them groaned at the way your body squeezed them- tight and hot and trembling.

“Fuck,” Bucky grunted, rocking his hips once more. “Didn’t even have to move. Just had to be inside you.”

Steve chuckled darkly, voice low and wrecked in your ear. “She’s that sensitive. That fucking perfect.”

You couldn’t even answer. Your lips parted in a silent gasp as Steve’s hands slid up to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing across your stiff nipples as he started to move again. Slowly at first, easing back before pressing forward, dragging against that thin wall with every thick stroke.

Bucky's grip returned to your hips, steady and possessive, guiding you to rise and fall on his cock. Your body jolted with every motion, your moans soft and slurred.

“That’s it,” Steve cooed, hips snapping gently. “We’ll start slow…”

“I-I can’t- ” you whimpered, but your body was already moving, driven by instinct and need.

“I know you can take more,” he murmured. “Look how beautiful you are when you come apart. It'll feel better- just gotta keep going.”

And it did. It felt better than the denial. Better than the ache that came from holding back. The pleasure rolled through you like a drug, heavy and all-consuming.

Your hips started to move again, slowly grinding into Bucky as your walls fluttered around him. You didn’t know if it was need or instinct- maybe both- but you couldn’t stop. You were cock-drunk. Barely aware of anything except how good it felt to be filled this way.

“Breathe,” Steve whispered. “Just like that. Hold it- good girl.”

Then Steve pulled your hips back into him and pressed all the way in.

“You think you’re fucking her deep?” Steve growled at Bucky, voice low and wild. “Watch this.”

Bucky shoved his hand flat to your lower stomach and lifted his hips with a brutal thrust. You cried out, the stretch making your eyes roll back as he ground up into you. It was obscene how deep he reached, how thick he felt. You pawed at his chest, clinging to him with trembling fingers.

“..fuck fuck fuck...” you gasped, the breath knocked out of you before he eased his hips again, smug and steady.

“Told ya,” Bucky muttered with a grin.

But it didn’t stop there.

Bucky answered your gasps with harder thrusts. Steve listened for his name and answered with praise. His mouth latched to your neck, nipping and licking along your skin as he squeezed your breasts roughly, molding them in his palms.

“Did you hear that one? That was mine,” Steve muttered against your skin when you gasped his name.

Bucky answered with a sharp thrust that made your breath catch. “She moaned louder for me, sweetheart. Don’t get cocky.”

Each of them was locked into the game- testing reactions, adjusting pace, trying to claim the sounds that spilled from your lips. One made you cry out, the other drew a gasp. They used your body like a live wire for their competition, and you were helpless in the storm.

“She whimpers when I kiss her right here,” he growled, biting just beneath your ear.

Bucky’s hands gripped your hips tighter, fucking up into you hard enough to rock you against Steve’s chest. “She clenched around me when you said that,” he rasped. “Bet she’s trying to pick a favourite.”

You couldn’t keep up. Couldn’t think. You only managed to gasp whatever name escaped your lips first, and they both heard it- every time. And they responded with sharper thrusts, filthier praise.

“You’re so cock-drunk, you don’t even know who’s making you come anymore, do you?” Bucky said, voice rough.

“She’s beautiful like this,” Steve murmured, licking the sweat off your throat. “All wrecked. All ours.”

Then Bucky’s metal hand slid between your thighs again. His fingers brushed your clit, the coolness of steel a shocking chill of metal against your heat made you jolt, gasping as sparks danced up your spine.

“Oh- god - fuck- ” you sobbed, trembling uncontrollably as sparks shot up your spine.

“Breathe,” Steve ordered again. “Just like that. That’s our girl.”

They started to move faster now- driving into you in sync, pistoning in perfect rhythm. The slap of skin echoed, the slick sounds of your soaked cunt and the obscene wet pressure of being filled from both ends breaking whatever was left of your mind.

“You want to make her come, punk?” Bucky growled. “You gotta fuck her harder than that.”

“Shut up, jerk,” Steve snarled, thrusting harder. “We don’t need to break her. Just ruin her a little longer.”

“She’s shaking so bad. You keep her steady, Steve- I wanna see her face when she comes again.”

Your next orgasm ripped through you with a small wail, your features contorting as your body locked up tight. You clawed at them both- gripping Steve’s forearm, Bucky’s shoulder- as your walls fluttered around their cocks, milking them, begging for more without a word.

They didn’t stop. Didn’t give you time to come down. Steve groaned, his thrusts picking up as he rolled your nipples between his fingers. Bucky cursed, gripping your hips tighter, lifting and dropping you into him with growing urgency.

You felt them both losing control- felt their restraint slipping with every second you squeezed around them, heat and slickness pouring down your thighs.

“Fuck- fuck, she’s doing it again,” Bucky grunted.

Steve’s voice was a low growl in your ear. “She wants it. She’s not done. Not till we are.”

Then the pace shifted- harder, rougher, deeper. Their moans grew louder, matched only by the slap of skin on skin. Your head spun, your vision blurred.

And then they were coming again- Steve first, pulled tight to your back, his groan muffled in your shoulder. Then Bucky, buried deep beneath you, eyes locked on yours as he spilled inside you with a strangled moan.

You collapsed between them, limp and boneless, your body a trembling wreck held up only by their hands. You didn’t even try to move. There was no fight left in you- only the slow hum of satisfaction and overstimulation. Somewhere in the haze of your mind, a flicker of disbelief passed through you- how had you endured that? How had you survived the storm of them inside you? But there was no room for shame or second thoughts. Only surrender. And the quiet, overwhelming hum of being utterly, deliciously wrecked. You were too dazed to understand what was happening at first, the haze still thick behind your eyes. The humming under your skin hadn’t stopped, but it had dulled- muted to a low thrum that echoed in your bones. They were careful, even if your overstimulated body didn’t register it that way.

You whined, squirming, as they slowly pulled out of you. The stretch reversed, the heat slipping away, leaving you empty and raw. It wasn’t pain, but your body protested the loss with soft whimpers.

Someone pressed a water bottle to your lips, coaxing you to sip. You obeyed without thought, the coolness trickling down your throat a small mercy.

Another set of hands gently wiped you down. A cold, damp cloth slid between your legs, easing away the slick mess with slow, tender strokes.

Then your head was lowered into someone’s lap. Fingers carded through your hair.

“You did so well,” Steve murmured. “Look at you- perfect.”

You blinked slowly. Steve’s voice again, closer now: “Easy, sweetheart. Just breathe. I’ve got you.”

Your limbs twitched weakly, still responding to phantom pleasure. A quiet laugh came from Bucky.

“Still twitching. Still fucking gorgeous.”

You felt him kissing up your leg, mouth trailing along your calf, your knee, your inner thigh.

Then your legs were being moved again- lifted, spread with a gentleness that contrasted starkly with the earlier frenzy. There was no rush now, no urgency- just the soft reverence of Bucky's hands as he cradled your thighs like something precious, something breakable, as though he hadn’t just wrecked you minutes ago. You blinked, barely aware, as Bucky settled himself between them, laying flat, his breath hot against your oversensitive core.

He pressed a kiss there, soft and reverent, and your whole body jolted in response.

“And I’m not done tasting her,” he muttered, voice thick with need.

“Buck- she needs to recover,” Steve warned again, but his voice had softened to something indulgent.

“I’ll be gentle…” Bucky promised, his mouth already lowering, tongue dragging slow and careful over your aching folds as your head lolled back into Steve lap, eyes fluttering closed, lost to the warmth and the wetness and the impossible pleasure building again

TAGS: @buckybarnesfic, @ruexj283, @yesiamthatwierd @trojanaurora, @hextech-bros

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em1i2a3 · 2 months ago

Text

Carry The Zero

Pairing: Bob/Robert Reynolds/Sentry (or The Void) x Avengers!Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Bob are sharing a room while the Avengers Compound is under renovations, which brings on a slew of new things to learn about one another.

Warnings: Semi Spoilers for Thunderbolts I guess because Bob is in here. Other than that there is nothing too extreme happening in here, it’s a bit emotional, but there is fluff in here, I would kind of describe this as a Hurt/Comfort fic than anything. There are mentions of abuse and there is also some heavy petting maybe? I mean, I’ll put that in here to cover my booty lol.

Authors Note: My second viewing of Thunderbolts truly got my mind racing for what to write in regard to Bob. Thought I would put out this lil blurb and probably add more to it later in another segment or something! Anyways! Enjoy y’all and happy premiere weekend!!! :)

Word Count: 6,784

The room wasn’t built for two people, that’s what you knew for sure. It used to be a storage space, at least that is what you assumed judging by the various filing cabinets that lined the area, the dented lockers that were near the door, and the strewn papers that nobody decided to throw away in preparation for the move-in. The only thing that was the saving grace was the fact that the place had a window that let you look out onto the city. But it still didn’t truly make up for the cramped space, even though they were able to shove two twin sized beds inside it and call it a room–which showed how effective their planning was throughout all the chaos.

The Avengers Compound was still under renovations after a security breach took out part of the living space, meaning everyone needed to be shuffled like cards in a losing deck. Room assignments were given unwillingly to everyone, and you had been paired with Bob.

It was weird to be rooming with someone who had the power of a million exploding suns as people liked to say, because even though he carried that on his sleeve sheepishly, his personality certainly didn’t match that of a person who could take down the entire world. He was shy, quiet, and careful, tip-toeing around you like you were going to snap at him at any second–which was not the case at all.

Compared to the other options you had you actually preferred to be rooming with him.

The first few days had passed in near silence. You didn’t talk much, you’d only go into your room to sleep or change, and when you would do something outside of those two things Bob would rush out pretty quickly, apologizing nervously under his breath, like he thought you were obligated to time alone.

He’d go to bed early, and you’d catch him reading beneath the awful buzzing lamp that was left in the room from before the two of you moved in. You never really asked him what he was reading because the title was always changing, like he couldn’t finish anything, or he had so much time to himself he was finishing books like they were snacks.

Then there were little things you began to notice.

He’d pace a lot, wring his hands in his lap, or pick at the skin on his fingers. He was clean, he never left shoes in the middle of the room, and always lined them up neatly under his bed frame, even yours. He would flinch at loud noises, like if there was a childish argument happening in the communal kitchen and things got too high in volume he would get a little twitchy. He was observant, and paid attention to everything around him–sometimes you would hear him talking to himself, repeating fragments of conversations from earlier in the day, like it grounded him in some way.

He had his routine and you respected it as much as possible, but tonight was entirely different.

You were coming in late from training, and a med bay visit.

The scrape on your shoulder wasn’t serious, but it was bad enough to have Bucky send you down to get checked out. It was standard–some antiseptic, a lecture from one of the nurses about being more careful and aware of your surroundings, and then you were released with a warning, and a fresh bandage. You were exhausted, sore, and annoyed with yourself for not paying attention and letting your guard down during a simulation, especially because the past few nights had been like that.

By the time you reached your floor, the halls were quiet. There wasn’t any bickering or discussions happening in the kitchen, nobody was lingering in the living room with post-mission jitters, it was just peace, for once.

You stopped at the fridge to pick yourself up a bottle of electrolytes, then paused, eyeing the row of them. You bit your inner cheek, and after a second of hesitation you grabbed another one for Bob, tucking it against you.

You figured he would be awake like he always was when you were on your training nights. You weren’t sure if he was just waiting for you or if he was just incapable of resting when you weren’t accounted for, but you never asked.

Slowly, you moved down the hall, twisting the cap off your drink with a wince when you strained just a little too much, causing the bandage to sting beneath your shirt. You gritted your teeth and let out a frustrated grunt.

“Gotta take it easy on yourself.” You heard Bucky say from behind you. You turned on your heel, seeing he was still in his training gear, also holding a bottle of electrolytes as well, “You’re gonna burn out if you don’t take breaks.” You shifted under his gaze.

”I want to be better, that’s why I’m training. If you got your ass handed to you on the field you would be doing the same.” He shook his head.

”No. I would be resting and seeing what I could do better the next time. Don’t come to training for the rest of the week, just relax and recoup, we’ll revisit your regimen when you’re better.” Before you could say anything he typed his code in for his room, and was out of your sight. You could feel your body seething as you turned back around to continue making your way down the hall. You’d seen it coming from a mile away just by the way he was watching you during the simulation but you never thought he would say anything to you like that. It just added another layer of annoyance as you reached your room.

You pushed the door open gently, careful not to let the hinges creak too loudly. The room was dark, which was unexpected, Bob’s light wasn’t even on. The only thing that was illuminating the room was the shimmer of city lights, casting silver-blue shadows across the floor.

Bob was in bed, lying on his side facing you, with his blanket tugged up to his neck. His face was soft in the low light–features relaxed, eyes closed. Sleeping, or at least you thought he was. You lingered in the doorway for a moment, squinting in the dimness of the room to see him a bit better.

His light brown hair looked a little messy, like he’d been shifting around for a while before finally settling on the position he was in now. You wondered how long he was lying like that, or if he had been waiting for your return but fell asleep in the process, and now you felt even worse than before.

You let the door close softly behind you with a gentle click, removing your shoes slowly, one at a time. Every motion felt heavier than it should have–dull with fatigue, and edged in frustration. You padded across the narrow space, keeping your steps quiet, with the extra bottle of electrolytes tucked against you, the condensation seeping through your training jacket.

You crouched slowly beside Bob’s bed, biting back a wince as your muscles tensed in protest, while you placed the bottle down on the floor, angling it so he’d see it when he woke up. It was a small, quiet offering, just something kind, a consideration in a way. You took your next moves slowly as you stood up and turned to your own bed with a tired exhale, putting the cap back on your drink and throwing it onto your bed. One hand rose to the zipper of your training jacket, pulling it down in a swift movement, teeth grinding while you pushed the fabric off your shoulders, feeling pain erupt from your ribs and shoulder now, the muscles pulsing with burning heat.

The cool air of the room hit your skin instantly, and your tank top didn’t do much to hide any of your injuries from the environment. Your back arched with the grating sting that came through you, and one hand came up to press against the bandage, making sure it was still on properly and not tugging at your skin. The ache was sharp and pulsing, and when your fingers came away damp, you already knew there was blood seeping through the gauze. You grimaced but didn’t consider making another trip to the med bay. You were too tired to care at this point, and it wasn’t something that would cause you to bleed out, so it was a morning issue to deal with.

You turned toward your dresser, collecting a pair of cotton shorts and an oversized sweater that smelled faintly of sage, throwing both articles of clothing down onto your bed with a soft plop. You rolled your shoulder gently, testing the range of motion in it with a quiet wince before reaching for the hem of your tank top, peeling the rough fabric up your skin carefully, trying to avoid the worst of the sting, though even at your slowest pace you could feel the movement pulling at the wound.

The cotton clung briefly to the tape of the gauze and the dried sweat that coated your skin before finally giving way, and coming off completely. You let out a sigh of relief, as you let the fabric fall to the floor, reaching for your sweater next. The bandage on your shoulder throbbed with every shift you made, but it was the deeper bruises scattered across your body–ghosts of impacts from the past few days–that ached beneath your skin like an echoing thunder. You glanced down at yourself, taking in the way they bloomed across your ribs, stomach, and hips, at this point you could see more bruises than your actual flesh at this point, and they were tender, dark and swollen. Maybe Bucky was right, maybe you really did need a break��

Your fingers curled loosely into the hem of your sweater, but you didn’t think to pull it on yet, you just continued to look down at the wreck that was your body, and the longer you stared, the more numb you became. It was easy to take a break but it wasn’t deserved, you couldn’t afford to make any more mistakes during missions, and you knew you weren’t going to listen to Bucky, you would keep training until your body gave out.

You closed your eyes for a moment, before lifting the sweater towards you, ready to retreat into its softness, ready to disappear and call it a night, but then you heard it.

A breath. Sharp and quick. You froze in your spot.

Then came the sound of movement, the shuffling of the blanket, the mattress creaking under the shifting weight.

Your eyes darted toward Bob’s bed instantly, seeing that his back was now turned towards you. His blanket was pulled up around his shoulders, almost covering his whole head, but there was tension in his posture now, like he was more alert, and less relaxed.

Another breath was inhaled, only it was thinner this time, and wet, followed by a muffled sniffle. Your brows furrowed, and you worked quickly to throw your sweater on without hurting yourself so you were covered up completely, before making your way to his bed, crouching down on the floor, keeping your attention fixated on him. His shoulders were rising and falling now in uneven motions, and now you were piecing together that he was actually crying.

”…Bob?” You whispered, voice soft and low, like if you made it any louder than the volume you were at now it might shatter him. You could see the shuddering in his shoulders halt at the way you said his name, and he pulled the blanket higher over his head, like he was trying to shield himself from your eyes.

”I’m sorry…” Your brows pulled together in confusion as you leaned against the bed a little more, watching the outline of his frame beneath the covers, seeing the small tremors still running through his shoulders. You bit the inside of your cheek as you reached out, your hand hovering for a breath before resting gently against the curve of his back. He was radiating heat through the blanket, but he was stiff beneath your touch, like he didn’t know what to do with the comfort you were offering.

“Bob…Why are you apologizing?” You asked softly. He took in another shaky breath, but didn’t answer. You let out a sigh, rubbing your hand up and down his back like your mother used to when you cried, trying to soothe him, to calm him as much as you could.

”I…I saw the bruises.” He said, barely a whisper. Your hand on his back froze for a moment, “I-I didn’t mean to look, I swear, I just-“ His breath hitched, realizing that you were probably throwing daggers into his back with your eyes, “I just woke up…And saw them, and I couldn’t…Couldn’t stop remembering…” He couldn’t finish his sentence, it was just too much, as another set of sobs escaped his throat. You could feel your gaze soften at the noise, almost like a piece of your heart was breaking for him, continuing your movements along his back, pressing just a little harder into the muscle.

“Is there anything I can do? Do you want some electrolytes or something?” He shook his head.

”No…P-Please just stay…” His voice was hoarse, cracking under the thickness that coated his throat from the tears. You nodded even though he couldn’t see you, staring at his shoulders as he continued to cry, curling in on himself beneath his blanket.

You continued rubbing his back, keeping a steady and consistent rhythm. The heat of him radiated through the blanket like a furnace on the verge of burning itself out. Every time your hand passed over his spine, his shoulders seemed to loosen by a fraction.

“C-Can I ask something…Kind of w-weird?” His voice broke through the quiet again, in such a timid whisper that you barely heard it.

“Sure.” You replied, hearing him sniffle again. There was a long pause, and you could feel the hesitation, like he was trying to put his words together properly so whatever he was going to say didn’t come off creepy. You continued to run your hand over his back, waiting patiently for him, watching his figure rising and falling beneath the blanket, still seeing it shaking. In your mind, you were worried, you hadn’t seen him like this before, and there was a moment where you considered calling Bucky or Yelena to come help you, but then his voice broke through the thoughts.

”…Could you…” He took another breath, “Could you…Please hold me?” The question came out strangled, like it had clawed its way out of his throat before he could second-guess it again. You blinked slowly at the request, not because you were unsure of your answer, but because the way he said it was so gentle, and embarrassed it caught you off guard in a way.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to say, you thought maybe he was going to ask you for a tissue, but this was something far more vulnerable, something you never thought would come from Bob of all people, even though you knew he was sensitive. Inside you hesitated only because you didn’t want to hurt him by possibly doing the wrong thing, yet your heart ached watching him break down beneath his blanket which at this point was drowning him because of how much he had curled up beneath it.

“Of course…Just let me change out of these training pants first okay? It’ll just take a second.” There was no response to that, just movement. He shifted towards the wall so he was giving you enough space to get in, still hunched over like he felt guilty for the area that he occupied. You quickly stood up, and made quick work of shimmying out of your training pants and putting on your cotton sleep shorts, which was probably the best idea since you felt him burning through the blanket he was wrapped in. You brought your attention back to him soon after, returning to the side of the bed, your eyes roaming over the lump that resembled his body.

With a gentle hand, you tugged the edge of the blanket down just enough to uncover the top of his head, revealing his light brown hair again which looked dampened with sweat beneath the illuminating city lights that shined through the window. He didn’t say anything, or protest being exposed to you, so you took that as a good sign to continue.

You slid into the space he made for you, careful not to jostle the cocoon he made for himself too much, and eased your bad arm underneath his pillow so your scraped shoulder could rest in a neutral position where your bandage wouldn’t rip off your skin completely. You pulled up the blanket slightly, getting in behind him, scooting closer until your chest met his damp back.

His navy blue t-shirt was soaked through completely, and it wasn’t helping that he was wearing long pants to bed either. There was a fear he was gonna pass out from heat stroke or something, but he had mentioned it several times that he ran hot in general, you just didn’t see it to this extreme. He smelled like a salty rain storm, or like ozone, it was something indescribable to you in those moments, but it was what he typically radiated, it was familiar.

Slowly, you brought your arm over his torso, placing your hand onto the hard plane of his sternum, the muscles beneath his shirt twitching against the unfamiliar touch that you introduced to him.

Neither of you spoke, you just laid against each other in pure silence, listening to each other's breathing–his trembling, yours steady. He could feel your hot breaths against his neck and tried to pay attention to it, as you pushed down the blanket a bit with your elbow to shed the makeshift shield from his body. It took him a while to compose himself enough to speak again, but when he did, you were hanging off of every word.

”…When I saw the bruises…” He rasped, “All I could think about was me. When I was a kid…” The mentioning of his childhood immediately felt like a blow to your stomach. He had said something about how he was raised in passing, but it was an off handed remark that nobody really paid attention to. You figured it was something he didn’t want to talk about, but hearing him say this only made you dread what he was going to continue with.

”After he’d hit me…I’d go over to the mirror, just to see how bad it was. I’d tell myself it didn’t hurt, even if it did, I’d just lie to myself, because I knew if I cried, he’d just get angrier. He was always in the mood to beat me up so when he had a reason I think it made him feel justified in some…Messed up way.” Your chest tightened at his words, thinking about how scary it must’ve been for him, and how terrified he must’ve felt not knowing when his own father would strike. You didn’t speak right away, but you did shift, sliding your hand up higher on his chest, so you could press your palm flat over his heart. His shirt was soaked there too, yet beneath it all you could feel the frantic fluttering of his pulse, like a bird rattling against its cage.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, your breath tickling his neck again. He didn’t respond, though he didn’t recoil either.

“None of that should’ve ever happened to you,” You continued softly, brushing your thumb along the fabric against his heart, “You were a child, and you didn’t deserve that.” He let out a breath like he was trying not to begin sobbing again.

”You don’t have to say that.” You raised your head a bit, almost in disbelief that he truly thought that what happened to him was somehow okay or justified.

”I do, Bob.” You murmured, inching just a little closer, feeling your body screaming in protest as your injured shoulder moved the wrong way, causing you to hiss through your teeth. Bob noticed instantly.

”You’re hurting,” He said quietly with guilt sinking into every syllable.

”I really couldn’t give a crap about that right now Bob, trust me I’ve been through worse. You’re hurting right now too and I’m not going anywhere. Do you understand?” You replied back, your voice low, but lacking bite, not that you intended to have it sound stern or anything.

Bob shifted beneath your touch, slowly rolling onto his back like the weight of your words cracked something loose inside him. You adjusted carefully to give him space, keeping your injured shoulder angled away from the impact of his back pressing against your arm, even though the ache felt like white noise beneath the tension that was beginning to rise in the room. When he settled on his back you adjusted yourself so your chin rested against his chest, keeping your hand splayed in the same position over his heart.

His eyes didn’t find yours at first, they stared blankly at the ceiling, the soft glow of the city lights catching the shimmer of the tears that were still pooling in his eyes. Now that you could see him fully, you realized how bad things really were. His skin was blotchy, and flushed from how hot he was. His cheeks were stained with fresh tears, mixing with sweat that created this overall sheen on his skin in general, which made his hair cling to his forehead. A long, old kind of hurt settled over his face, the kind that hid quietly within the corners of a person.

He inhaled shakily, and every exhale got caught somewhere between exhaustion and restraint. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath your chin, and it made you ache in a way that put a hole deep in your chest.

”Bob…” You murmured, barely louder than the sound of the city humming outside the window, “Look at me.” At first he didn’t move, keeping his eyes fixated on the ceiling, distant and confused, still taking in those short bursts of air. Your hand left his chest, bringing them up to his jaw, coaxing his attention with the lightest touch you could give him.

“Look at me Bob,” You whispered again.

Then slowly, his eyes shifted downward until they found yours. The moment his gaze landed on you, something cracked open between you both–it was quiet, and delicate, but present and grounded in the center of it all. His expression was drawn, and his lashes were clumpy and wet with tears, framing his shimmering blue irises.

The skin surrounding his eyes were raw, almost a blood red, like someone had scratched it and left their marks streaking down his flesh. You didn’t flinch away from it though, you just looked at him with such focus, like your gaze could settle the storm that was in him. You could see his lip tremble slightly under your gaze as he tried to hold himself still, tears brimming in his eyes again, threatening to spill.

”I hate remembering…I can’t stand it. I don’t want to remember this stuff…I don’t want to think about it anymore, and I don’t want you to associate me with being weak.” You raised your eyebrows, now raising your head up to you were looking at him a little better, resting your hand against his chin now.

”I don’t, ” You stated, watching a set of tears flow out of the corners of his eyes, swallowing loudly, “I don’t associate you with weakness.” You whispered, brushing your thumb along the smooth skin of his cheek.

”I associate you with patience…With overwhelming kindness, and with strength so deep it doesn’t even have to be displayed. You could burn the sky down…You could use all the pain inside you to destroy the planet…Yet you help, you listen, and you keep going. That’s not a weak person Bob.” You wiped one of the tears away with your thumb, feeling him hesitate before leaning into your touch.

“Y/N…I’m not right in the head…You don’t understand…You’ll never understand.” You shook your head, and sighed.

”I don’t have to understand everything to care about you,” Bob’s eyes squeezed shut for a moment, like the words that you said hit him like a truck. You could feel the tension in his jaw, as he clenched it tightly, trying to contain himself a bit.

“I used to think that if I could just bury everything deep enough maybe it wouldn’t make me feel so contaminated…But then when I got the serum…And The Void came…And that awfulness manifested into something bigger…I realized that it just wouldn’t go away. I’m dangerous Y/N…I’m not someone that can be fixed. I know you care, but I can’t risk hurting you.” You shifted closer to him, moving up slowly, dragging your chest along his. His eyes followed your movements, turning his head when you settled near his shoulder, feeling your hand leave his cheek.

“You don’t scare me Bob. You’re just saying this stuff because you think it’ll make me give up on you, but I’m not that easy to sway.” You whispered, reaching down to touch one of his hands, which caused him to flinch. He was already bracing himself, preparing to be pulled into one of your memories, but it didn’t happen…It was like…Things were quiet. Just pure emptiness, and the only thing he could see was you. He stared at you as you wrapped your fingers around his hand, seeing his brows draw together.

“H-How are you…Doing this?” He asked quietly, like he was afraid he was going to disturb the peace and get thrown into your mind out of nowhere.

”I locked it out.” He shook his head at you quickly.

”That’s impossible…It always gets in…” A small smile came up on your lips, hearing the disbelief in his voice, the way he was almost entirely taken aback by what you had just said. You leaned in a little closer to him, like you were going to tell him a secret, feeling his breath fanning over your face.

“Before I was recruited, I was part of a different team. Black-ops, kind of like what the X-Men used to be, but very much under the radar. It was just…Constant missions, we were a clean up crew basically, picking up the scraps that nobody else wanted…” You smiled faintly, the corner of your mouth twitching with the memories of your team, how close you all were, how none of you took crap from anyone…Similar to what you had now, just a little better because of the tether you all had between each other.

“We ran into a lot of people with gifts. Telepaths. Empaths…Stuff like that. Some didn’t even know they were projecting until it was too late. Others weaponized it. Pulled secrets out like stitches and drove people insane without ever touching them.”

Bob was still staring at you, eyes wide and brimming with tears, his chest rising beneath you in short bursts.

“It was mandatory,” You continued. “To train in mental shielding. Neural control. The discipline to lock down your own mind so tight it’s like a vault. We trained until our thoughts didn’t even echo. You learn to breathe around psychic pressure, to mask trauma with static, to reroute memories into dead space. You learn to feel someone reaching for you…And then cut the line.”

Bob swallowed hard, hearing the way you explained everything to him step by step, while still holding his hand, running your thumb over the back of it.

“I wasn’t trained to stop the Void,” You said gently, “But I was trained to stop something similar to it. And apparently, it’s just close enough.” You watched his lashes flutter like he didn’t know whether he was going to cry again or if he was just going to sink into the mattress and disappear entirely.

“…That’s why the mental noise isn’t so loud when we're alone in a room together…” He whispered under his breath, almost like everything was clicking in his mind, as his hand began to tighten around yours now, matching the same hold you had, “…Mental shielding…Who knew that would be the thing that makes everything go quiet.” You smirked at his comment, already hearing the tension in his voice wavering, feeling his breath sticking to your cheeks, shifting in front of him so your noses bumped slightly.

“Technically it’s still quite an experimental thing, but…It works when needed I think.” You can see his lip twitch slightly, drawing into his mouth just a little bit, as if he wanted to get a taste of your breath that coated it.

“It’s…Amazing.” Was all he could muster up to say, continuing to hold onto your hand tightly, like it was anchoring him to this quiet space in his head that he had not been able to reach since taking the serum. “…All I hear, and all I feel…Is you and I had no clue until now…” The sound of his voice made your spine tingle, and goosebumps raise on your skin.

It was shocking that moments ago he was this wreck, then suddenly it was like he was on top of the world. Maybe it was because he hadn’t been touched like this in so long, or maybe it was because he finally had a break from all the noise that kept draining him, you had no clue…But what you did know is how soft his eyes had become, and how deep his breaths were now that he was a little calmer, and not being treated like a threat of some kind.

You shifted again, getting almost unbearably close to him now, the fabric of the blanket sliding down slowly, exposing your clothed bodies to the silvery-blue light just a little more. Bob didn’t move, but his eyes never left yours, he kept every ounce of attention on you, waiting for your next action, hanging on every moment. His breath hitched when your knees bumped gently against his thigh, as the warmth of your bodies radiated like twin heartbeats pressed just barely apart.

Your noses were brushing against one another, and if you tilted your chin up by just a little bit, you’d be kissing.

”I’m glad I’ve been able to make it go quiet for you…Even if it’s not permanent.” A faint smile slowly appeared on his face–crooked, and trembling, but so genuine.

“It’s more peace than I thought I’d ever get…So thank you.” He replied back, his hand squeezing yours, not in desperation, but with something closer to awe, like he still couldn’t wrap his head around the situation that was happening in front of him. His breath brushed across your face as he watched your eyes roaming over his. You couldn’t help but stare at him, to take him in now that he wasn’t crying, to admire the person who was in front of you. It was hard not to lose track of time studying his features, and how they were just…Him.

There was a long pause between the both of you, a snippet of time suspended into the universe where nothing else existed beyond the narrow bed and the hum of the city beyond the window. His chest rose slowly, puffing out warm shallow breaths against your lips, and for a second it felt like he was hesitating on something…But then, he leaned in.

It wasn’t fast, or sweeping like he was trying to catch you off guard. It was careful, like every little millimeter he closed between the both of you was an offer for you to pull back, but you didn’t take it.

When his lips met yours, it was a soft, trembling brush of mouths that lingered more in intent than execution. He kissed like he was afraid you were somehow going to disappear, but you could feel how much he truly wanted this. His lips were warm, and slightly parted, and you could taste the faintness of tears and salt, still hesitating to go the full mile.

There was a moment where he was about to pull back, and that’s when you took the opportunity to fully lean into the kiss and throw logic out the window, just for this one cut of time

Your lips moved against his, answering the softness of his approach with something more certain and grounded. The taste of him was still there, but now it was amplified tenfold from how much more pressure you were placing on the kiss now.

He was stiff at first, the tension in his jaw made it evident, like he was unsure of what he was allowed to do, what he was okay to give back, or like he was bracing himself for the possibility of you pulling back before he could even try to meet you where you were at. But then your hand let go of his, and slid up to cup the side of his face, and he let out the smallest gasp of disbelief against your mouth. Your thumb brushed gently beneath his eye as your lips molded to the shape of his mouth with a tenderness that shattered whatever restrain he’d been holding onto.

Your arm shifted beneath the pillow, bending just enough so you could lace your fingers into his damp hair, pulling him in more with such grace that it made him groan. His hand moved to your neck then–his shaky fingers pressing softly just below your ear, his thumb brushing over the curve of your jaw as he located your pulse instantly. His touch wasn’t possessive, it was filled with care, and curiosity. He wanted to feel the warmth of your skin, the steady–or not so steady–rhythm of your heartbeat beneath his fingers, he craved to be closer to you, and every moment that passed was giving him the signal that you wanted that too.

He shifted gently, slowly turning onto his side without breaking the kiss, being cautious not to put anymore unwanted pressure on your arm beneath him as he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you in until your bodies were flush against one another. You could feel the dampness on your sweater from his shirt, and your bare legs brushing against the cotton of his sleep pants, which only overwhelmed you more, knowing it was going to be a challenge to stop this from going too far.

His hand splayed out on your back, twitching against the fabric that covered it as you parted your lips for him, allowing his tongue to brush against yours with the softest flicker of hesitation, tasting you like he was drinking something sacred. The breath he let out against your mouth made your skin prickle beneath your sweater, and it only encouraged your response.

You angled your mouth to his, encouraging him to continue, feeling him follow suit in an instant, matching your energy bit by bit, syncing with the way you moved against him. When your hand slid further into his hair, and curled within the damp strands, gently tugging, he let out the smallest, softest moan–it was so quiet and desperate it sounded like it had been buried within him for years. It made your head spin hearing it, and it only made you shift yourself towards him even more, feeling his thigh nudging between your legs so the both of you can completely mesh together. It was such a subtle move, but it lit up every nerve ending in your body like it was nothing.

Bob’s hand slid beneath the hem of your sweater, craving the feeling of your skin beneath his touch. His fingers traced the small of your spine, barely putting enough pressure on it, yet he still managed to send shivers through your body. He was getting bolder, but kept his awareness at the forefront, like he was cataloging every reaction you gave him, terrified that he might cross an invisible line and ruin the moment.

You felt the muscles in his arm shift as he pulled you even closer, putting more pressure between your bodies until you felt every rise and fall of his chest, and his heartbeat pulsed through you. His knee shifted again, nudging further between your thighs, pressing it gently into the thin cotton fabric that covered your most sensitive area, eliciting a gasp from you now. You could feel yourself falter control for a moment, moving your hips just a little to test the friction that you wanted, and that’s when you both realized just how far this could go–and how close you already were to getting there.

His hand tensed against your back, and the kiss slowed down, until he found the correct moment to pull back, just a few inches. His lips were still parted, only now they were swollen and wet with saliva. He was out of breath, and you mirrored the same sentiment, as the both of you tried to even your racing hearts before they exploded. His pupils were dilated, and in the dimmed lighting you could only see a faint glisten of blue that rimmed the darkness that took over, the burn was there, the want was there, but there was the looming fear that you both were going from zero to one hundred really quickly, and that’s when regrets could be made, and neither of you wanted that.

”…We can’t do this…” He whispered, his voice cracking from being the first one to speak. You nodded faintly, your fingers still toying with his hair, reluctant to let go completely, but understanding him.

”I know,” You murmured, “Not like this…Not tonight.” You clarified. He closed his eyes, a soft exhale brushing your lips as his fingers twitched against your pulse point on your neck again.

”It’s not that I don’t want to,” He added quietly, “God I do…You have no idea.”

“I know,” You said again, running your thumb along his cheek, soothing the skin there, “Me too…I want to as well…But we’re not ready. Especially after being in the headspace that you were in a few minutes ago.” He nodded slowly.

”I don’t want it to be something that will be confused for a moment of distraction.” You stared at him, hearing how serious he was about it, “And I don’t want to ruin anything.” He added softly, opening his eyes again to look at you.

”You’re not ruining anything, we’re just pressing pause…And that’s completely fine, and it’s the best decision to make for right now.” He gave a small, nervous smile at that and leaned forward to rest his forehead against yours, “We’ll talk more about it later…But for now how about we just relax hmm?” He let out a shaky breath, the heat from it hitting your lips and invading your mouth for just a split second.

”Yeah…I’d like that.” You smiled faintly, as your bodies untangled just a bit from one another, removing the both of you from the intimate position you had found yourself in moments before. His knee shifted out from between your legs, and rested against them instead, letting the tension unravel and disappear slowly.

He wrapped both arms around you now, carefully noting your injury, and you folded yourself into his chest, letting your hand rest on his ribs as he pulled the blanket up to shield the both of you.

You both stayed there, nose to nose, breath to breath, hearts beating unevenly against one another until sleep came over you like a harsh wave.

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crazy-hazy-sims · 2 months ago

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Hey everyone it seems there a malicious individual trying to hack the sims cc community again and fill it with malware you need to stay vigilant as a creator and a downloader so

i have some tips for both to stay safe while downloading:

1- sims cc file extension is always .Package never download anything that is .exe

2- do not auto unpack zip files and rar files into your mods folder directly, open each zip or rar individually check the file extensions and drag them to your mods folder one by one

3- the only mods that have a .ts4script extension are ones that affect gameplay or how the game works, understand that if you are downloading cas or bb items you shouldn't have a .ts4script file

4- if you are downloading gameplay mods that do have .ts4script make sure that A) the creator hasn't announced on their pages that its infected B) you are downloading from a link provided by the creator of the mods themselves not something off of google or a link you got sent and make sure dates of upload match dated of announcements

5- if the mod or cc creator has retired and hasn't posted for a while LOOK AT THE DATES OF THE UPLOAD if it has been "updated recently" after the creator has left the community its most likely re-uploaded by a hacker and infected

6- download mod gaurd by Twisted mexi and keep it updated and keep your windows defender or malware detector Program up to date and always running do not disable it

7- make sure everything you download comes from a direct link from the cc creator, in this day and age do not trust link shortners, adfly, linkverse, etc get the universal bypass extension and ublock extension to stay safe but genuinely NEVER CLICK ON THOSE no matter how much the creator reassures you its safe it. is. NOT.

8- this is more of a general saftey precaution but, create a system restore point weekly before you run the game with new mods that way if anything happens you could have a chance to restore your windows to an earlier date before you downloaded anything.

9- BACK UP YOUR SHIT im serious right now either weekly or monthly put your files somewhere safe like a usb a storage card a hard drive even an online cloud if you dont have any of the previous.

10- files you should back up are your media from games and media everything else, any mods, games saves, work files, passwords, saved bookmarks, any documents txt files word files pdfs, links you saved, brushes or actions for Photoshop if you have any, any digital bills or certificates if you have any, and keep a physical list of all programs you have installed and where you installed them from

11- turn on any 2 factor authentication and security measures for any account you have

12- google and firefox have the option to check your paswords and emails against any data leaks USE THIS FEATURE and change any leaked passwords

13- regularly check your logged in sessions to make sure all the logged in devices or computers are yours and log out any that aren't and any old devices or unused sessions do this for every website and app you have an account on if available

14- change your passwords often. I know this is a hassle i know its hard to come up with new passwords but changing your passwords every few months will help you against anything mention previously that wasn't detected.

15- and as a cc creator check your cc and the accounts you host cc on and its uplaod and update dates make sure nothing has been changed without your permission :(

16- generally try not to get swept up in the "i must get it" fever you do not need to "shop" for mods weekly or monthly you do not need to download everything by that one creator you do not need to download new cc everytime you want to make a sim, im guilty of this so i know how hard it is to resist but take a breath and think "do i want this or do i need it" before downloading.

These are prevention methods i cant claim they are 100% will prevent any hacking but its better to be safe than sorry and these do keep you safe so

Brought to you by someone who has had their laptop ruined and data leaked from downloading cc once upon a time

#ts4 #sims 4 #psa #sims 4 tips #please be careful

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syoddeye · 3 months ago

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on my knees begging for more werewolf soap

i have ideas, but they're more omegaverse-y than werewolf-y. but there is this one thought.

imagine johnny taking a page from price's book and choosing patience. deciding to not jump you where you stand and fuck you on the kitchen floor.

he switches gears. lays on the charm. he apologizes for barging in. it's hard, y'know, denying instinct. you of all people know how that is, right?

and it takes everything in him to hold a conversation. especially when your eyes keep dropping to his bare chest.

naturally, he asks how you're adjusting to your new life. tells you he's sympathetic. knows how hard it can be on your own. but when you tell him what you do every month, his demeanor shifts. brows pulling together, eyes darkening with disbelief. genuinely offended.

"you what?"

he can't believe it. can't believe you're spending good money, running up your card, on a storage unit across the city. that you lock yourself inside, slap on a muzzle, and chain yourself to the damn walls every full moon. denying yourself like that. ignoring the natural pull to hunt. heartbreaking, really.

"that's no way tae live."

his disapproval stings. he's the only other wolf you know.

then he extends an invitation. "come hunting with me."

that’s how you end up in the countryside, crammed into what's barely more than a glorified cowshed. some outbuilding on a relative's land. it smells like him—earth and sweat. reeks. it makes you second guess why you're really here, but he's a gentleman. makes you take the futon pushed into the corner, while he stretches out on a sleeping bag by the door.

but with only one night until the full moon, your mood shifts like the wind. restless. pacing like a caged animal, prone to snap. you think you'd sink your teeth into him if he tried anything untoward.

but he doesn't. he just smiles.

smiles when you tear into the raw meat he's packed for the trip. sits across the small table, watching with an almost dreamy look, his eyes practically sparkling when you lick your fingers. tells you that if you like that, you'll love sinking your teeth into the throat of a stag.

it should be humiliating. would be, if that part of you wasn't being smothered by the wolf tearing to the surface. your good senses held underwater to drown.

he's so kind. so understanding. so…patient. it's odd.

the next day, as the hour creeps closer to moonrise, that patience starts to feel like something else. something sharper. your control is splintering. like cracks forming along thin ice in spring, ready to shatter and burst. the wolf claws at your ribs. she's hungry. angry. you swear you feel your ears pinning forward, body coiling, alert.

you're jumpy around johnny all day, something primal thrumming beneath your skin. a whisper in the back of your mind: don’t turn your back on him.

by the time the evening chill sweeps through the hills, you're barely holding on. twitchy. usually, by now, you'd be drooling into a muzzle, yanking at the cuffs secured around your ankles. too far gone to even think about the combination lock keeping the keys out of reach.

after a final meal, something to take the edge off, johnny pushes back from the table and then through the door. cool as anything, he strips right there in the grass. sheds his clothes in a heap.

for all that staring, it's like you're seeing him for the first time. certainly the whole of him.

he beckons, voice rougher now. thicker. "c'mon, then. let me see her."

you’re shivering when you follow his lead. any embarrassment or shyness you might've felt—being bare beside a man, beside johnny, for the first time—just isn't there. it doesn't register. this feels natural. the most natural thing in the world, even as the wind bites at your skin.

and when you finally shift—it's brutal. visceral. a tearing and twisting that leaves you breathless, bones grinding and reshaping, muscle stretching taut. it always leaves you vulnerable for those first few moments. heart hammering. senses on overdrive as the world explodes in vivid color and scent.

so when you feel a warm breath on the scruff of your neck, feel it trail down your knobby spine to where your new tail twitches, you go still. the shiver that wracks through you clarifies what your wolf was trying to warn you about all day.

only one of you wants to hunt the wildlife.

#sy asks #soap x reader #idk what this is my bad

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alostcuttlefish · 2 years ago

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I think what I love about the Murderbot Diaries

(aside from, you know Murderbot who I love and cherish)

It that it’s a very grim-dark distopian corporate hellscape setting, told through the perspective of someone who has seen some of the worst that world has to offer, who’s existence is part of the worst that world has to offer, and yet-

And yet it’s so full of hope.

Everywhere you look, there’s underground shipping routes to get refugees out from contract labour, there’s universities forging documents to get abandoned colonies out from corporate ownership, there’s people buying a secunit so the company don’t realise it’s hacked itself and has free will. A Tlacy employee smuggles out copies of the files to give them back to their owners, a human officer on HaveRatton station opens the security barrier to let Ayda Mensah escape. There’s a planet that took the promise of somewhere safe to live, of food and medical care, and kept that promise for generations.

And for all it can’t even see the hope yet, can’t even really believe it might be there yet (because trauma will fuck you up), Secunit keeps being that hope for other people.

Not just the lives it saves, not just all the times it shows up out of nowhere like a social anxious guardian angel with energy weapons in it’s arms and several lifetimes worth of soap operas in it’s storage.

When it talks to Dr Volescu all the way up the side of the crater, to keep him moving. When it sticks with the scientists on RaviHyral. When Tapan sneaks onto it’s sleeping mat, because she’s scared, and it ups it’s body temperature to keep her warm. When it keeps Amena safe from a predatory partner, when it tells her to go rest. When it hacks the Comfort Unit’s governor module. When it-version-2.0 gives Three the codes to hack itself.

Imagine being on RaviHyral. Imagine meeting a security consultant who you shouldn’t be able to afford, who goes above and beyond and doesn’t even check the payment card at the end, who tells you that sometimes people do things to you that you can’t do anything about, that all you can do is learn to live with them, who’s clearly been through some shit but came out of it with so much compassion. Imagine the hope in that.

#grim dark with left hope #I'm going feral over it #murderbot diaries #murderbot

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flower-do0dles-dump · 1 month ago

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Help a Struggling Artist Out! We lost our House!

I'm in dire need of some help! If all goes well and people are interested i'll start doing numbered Commission-slots to do batches so things dont get backed up. Please conact me through Tumblr or Discord! The day this post goes up i'll be busy. But Please dont be afraid to leave a message in the mean time! 💃❤️💛🩷💙

Explanation and paypal and kofi details under the cut! also tap for better quality (Damn you Tumblr!)

On april 22nd I woke up to being told we were being evicted out of our childhood home, and on short notice I had to grab as many immediate valuables as I could. It wasnt a lot and 99% of my things are on storage under my Grandma's name- a very cultish and bigoted/abusive guardian.

We (My sister and brother) had managed to fix our social security and my card should be arriving in the mail in the coming weeks. But this wasnt earned without a fight and a lot of loopholes and headaches seeing as she wouldnt provide our paperworks to help change our last names, and thus, I hadnt been able to earn a income or any freedom for nearly 22 years! :'] (If you ask what that has to do with social security; its simply stated after she adopted us, never changed our last names to both collect more child support, as well as have us legally dependant on her as according to the state we dont exist. So we couldnt obtain IDs, jobs or hold our own money. This is pretty much fraud.) And now, as I learn to drive, find a job and soon a place of my own, I need your help! 👈

As of right now, my money is being held by my Partner @mersonnotperson with their paypal @LJMerson and Kofi, until I can acquire my own means of holding my pay. It would be appreciated for either any form of donations (every dollar counts!) or of course better yet commission me! Reblogs are also valued to help spread the word!

#There is a very little chance I will get back any of my things. I hope this wont be the case!#We were lucky enough to get housed by our sister. the rest? not so much #donate help #transgender #transmale #Welcome Home #My Little Pony #Fallout Equestria #Artist #commission #art commisions #art comms open #art commissions open #art community #mlp

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rottenpumpkin13 · 4 months ago

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How would it go to ask AGSZC (+ Rufus and the Turks) for a menstrual pad?

Sephiroth: Is awkward but diligent. "...Follow me." *leads you through 7 security checkpoints to R&D's medical storage* "These should last approximately 3.7 cycles based on average flow calculations." *hands you four boxes*

Angeal: Without missing a beat, pulls out an organized kit with labeled sections from his office. "Wing or no wing? Regular or overnight? I've got three options here..." *proceeds to lay out an entire care package* "There's also a heating pad, some painkillers, and I picked up those chocolate-covered almonds the cadets said were good for cramps." Mother hen strikes again while casually holding enough supplies to support half the female SOLDIER population.

Genesis: "Ah, the monthly tribute, a crimson dawn that brings forth the—" *barely dodges your irritated swipe* "Loveless speaks of the suffering of women in Act II, verse—ow! I'm trying to be supportive, you philistine."

Zack: "OH NO! Don't worry, I got this!" *grabs your wrist* "HEY EVERYONE! WHO'S GOT A PAD? MY FRIEND NEEDS ONE!" *proceeds to ask literally everyone in the building* "See? Team effort! High five! ...No? Okay, maybe later!"

Cloud: "Oh! Um..." *turns slightly pink* "Just... wait right here? Please?" *practically sprints away, returns exactly 8 minutes later slightly disheveled but triumphant* "The receptionist on 3rd gave me a few different kinds... wasn't sure which... um... hope these help?" *awkwardly helpful and genuinely concerned*

Reno: "What's wrong with free bleeding? I think it's badass."

Tseng: *wordlessly reaches into his suit pocket, produces exactly what you need* "....." When questioned about why he carries these: "The Turks are prepared for all scenarios." Refuses to elaborate further, returns to paperwork as if nothing happened.

Rufus: Barely looks up from petting Darkstar and says "Here." *slides corporate card across desk* "Get whatever you need. And since you're going out, bring me back a latte from Sector 8 and a puppuccino for Dee."

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #genesis rhapsodos #ff7 crisis core #angeal hewley #zack fair #rufus shinra #tseng ff7 #reno ff7

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protecvault · 8 days ago

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Essential Card Collector Accessories for 2025

Discover the top 5 must-have Card Collector Accessories for 2025 to keep your collection neat, protected, and display-ready. From multi-pocket binders to card sleeves and cleaning kits, ProtecVault offers premium solutions for Pokémon, MTG, and sports card collectors.

#High-quality Card Organizer #Mtg Card Storage #Multi-pocket Card Binder #Organized Card Collection #Pokémon Card Holder #Portable Card Binder #Premium Card Collection #Secure Card Storage #Sports Card Binder #Stylish Card Storage

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wh1msic4lwasab1 · 1 year ago

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𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐑𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐬' 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 🂱

synopsis: you meet an especially annoying gambler at your table and as the game master, it’s your job to shut him up.

tags: dom!reader, sub!aventurine, semi-public, bickering, explicit, vulgar

wrd cnt: 800+

art cred: yue_chan077 (insta)

“Hey-! What are you doing?”

“Games over?” You reply to the blonde man.

“But I was gonna win….” He pouts.

You click the buzzing timer off and collect all the chips off the table, scooping up stacks of cards in the process.

“Everyone says they’ll win until they don’t” You taunt, yanking the cards out of his hand with a smile.

He scoffs, crossing his arms and leaning back on the chair as people come and go, some collecting their winnings and others digging an even deeper hole with their debts.

As the dealer, it was up to you when to kick people out, and it seemed like the man to your left should be heading out now.

“Excuse me-? I don’t think your judgment is exactly expert. I’ll be playing a few more rounds”

You look at him with furrowed brows. “Sir, I have-“

He cuts you off, “Aventurine.”

“What?”

“I have a name darling. Use it.”

“You’re keeping up everyone waiting to play, Aventurine. I’d appreciate if you complied.”

You say with a raised eyebrow, waiting for an answer.

“You’re not my boss, darling. And I’ll play for as long as I want, understood?” He challenges, eyes locked in a heated stare. You narrow your eyes and stand your ground, not backing down. “Actually, I am the boss here. Now get out of here before I call security.”

He lets out a laugh, standing up from his chair and walking towards you. “I’d like to see you try.”

You stare at him, not backing down but not stepping away either. You can feel the tension between you both, but you refuse to back down.

You whisper to him quietly, everyone at the table now focusing on the quarrel between the two of you, “I’m not some toy for you to play with, Aventurine.

“Well of course not, you wouldn’t be able to handle it.” He says, trailing a hand down your back.

You try to push him away but he only grabs your arm. “Wanna bet?.”

Without hesitation, you lead him to a nearby storage closet, where you push him inside and lock the door. He raises an eyebrow in surprise, but the smirk on his face shows that he’s up for it.

You turn him around, and aggressively push him against the wall, pressing your body against his. “Do you know why I can handle it? Because I’m in control, and you’ll do whatever I say.”

He chuckles, “Is that so? How about we really make a bet then?”

You smirk back at him, “Sure, but you’re going to regret it.” Without another word, you grab his belt and start undoing it, watching as his expression changes to shock and excitement, mixed with a fuckton of arousal.

As you pull down his pants, his erection springs free, hard and ready for you.

“Oh- Well this isn’t exactly what I was-“

“Shut up. This is exactly what you were thinking about. I saw the way you kept staring at me during each game.”

“Well yeah but- Fuck…be a little gentle will you?…”

You began to stroke him, gripping his dick harder and slowly moving your hand up and down his shaft, watching his head falls back against the door in pleasure.

He lets out a low moan, and you can feel him getting closer and closer to his release.

“That’s it…you’re so close aren’t you? Cum in my hand.” You whisper in his ear, cupping his face and giving him one deep, tongue filled kiss.

But you stop, leaving him gasping for air and begging for more.

“Oh no, darling. You haven’t earned it yet.” He looks at you with pleading eyes, but you only smirk and continue to tease him. You stroke him again, this time faster and harder, making sure to give him just enough pleasure to make him desperate for release. He bites his lip, trying to hold back his moans, but it only makes you go faster.

“Don’t do that. Let me hear your pathetic little voice.”

You can feel him getting closer and closer, and you know he won’t be able to hold on much longer.

With one final stroke, he lets out a loud moan as he reaches his climax, his body shaking against yours.

“Fuck- Please! I’m sorry…I apologize for earlier- just please make me cum..”.

You smirk in satisfaction, knowing you’ve won the bet and made him truly submit to you.

He stands there, panting and trying to catch his breath, as you pull away and fix your clothes.

He slowly falls to the floor with his back still against the wall, sleeking down with legs still wide open and his cock still sprung up and spurting cum all over his thigh and stomach.

With a victorious smirk, you squate down to wipe away one side of his face covered in tears before you unlock the door and exit it, leaving him a mess in the closet and shutting the door behind you without a single word.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

#jo’s posts #hsr aventurine #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #aventurine smut #smut #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr smut #hsr x you #hsr x reader #aventurine x y/n #aventurine fanart #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail

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msschemmenti · 4 months ago

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girl in danger - 4

a/n: if you thought matt was a creep-- you were right.

They didn’t actually talk about it later. JJ was particularly good at distracting the trio once Y/n finally made it home and they all regretted it by morning. JJ and Emily were swept away on a case just after 5 A.M. and Y/n was up and out of the door for her day shortly after. The days seemed to blur together with final classes and recital prep. And with her girlfriends gone, Y/n found herself in her office a bit later than she’d intended. She’d been spending so many late nights in the building, that even the patrolling public safety officers expected her. She’d be heading to her car in the empty parking lot when they roll through on their little golf carts. No matter who the officer was, they always asked the same thing. “Last one out?” And Y/n would confirm and head home. But luckily for her— this pattern was coming to an end. After this recital, she was gonna have two weeks worth of summer to relax in before her summer term classes began. It’d be a small break but a break nonetheless.

“Thank you all so much for joining us tonight. Can we get another round of applause for our wonderful student performers and their hard work?” Dr. Kelley smiled from the front of the auditorium. “We in the music department want to wish the graduating seniors good luck in their next chapters in life. And we also thank you for your contributions to the department. All of you are so talented and we were truly honored to have you with us.” The room clapped and cheered as the students took an extra bow in recognition. “With that being said, that brings us to the end of our Spring recital! Have a good night!”

As the auditorium emptied out, the faculty started to break down the stage for the night, hoping to get out of there relatively quickly. Y/n grabbed a couple of mic stands, shuffled them back into the off-stage storage area and made her way back out to finish up the cleanup. When it was time to roll the baby grand piano back into the closet, most of the auditorium was empty. Dr. Kelley reentered the auditorium shortly after everything had been cleared and smiled up at her colleagues. “Thank you all so much for making this recital a success. I really appreciate all the extra hours everyone put in over the last month and I appreciate each of you. And to make up for all the craziness, I’ll represent us all at the commencement ceremony tomorrow morning.” Her words caused the professors to whoop and high-five gratefully. Not having to spend their Saturday morning in regalia in a stuffy gym was ample payment for the weeks of extra hours. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Thank you. So everyone get out of here. The building will be closed for the next two weeks until Summer term starts, so please enjoy your break.” Each professor expressed their thanks and made for the exit. Most of them made no stops and wished everyone a good break on their way to the parking lot, but Y/n had left all of her things in her office and she’d need to grab all of that before she was home free.

Unlocking her door she was greeted by the floral arrangement she’d received that afternoon. The card still poking from the bouquet read, “For our star. Break all the legs! - E and J.” When Miss Jeanette had brought them down to her over her lunch, she couldn’t scrub the grin off her face for the rest of the day even if she tried. It hadn’t been a huge deal that they couldn’t make the recital, but it felt really nice knowing they were thinking of her even while they ran around across the country. She slipped out of her heels and packed them away in her bag and rounded up everything she’d need for the next two weeks. Once that was all secured over her shoulder, she carefully grabbed the flowers and her keys. The hall was already dark when she opened the door but she’d gotten used to being the last out of the building by now. What she wasn’t used to was the wall of a person stood on her heels as she turned to lock her office door. She’d just slid the key into the lock when she felt the shift in energy. She turned her head slowly and jumped as her eyes met Matt’s dark eyes.” Matthew? What are you still doing here?” She turned her body to face him cautiously. She let her eyes slowly scan the hall for anyone else but there wasn’t a soul in sight.

“Oh hi Professor Y/Ln. I wanted to speak to you. Thank you for your help this semester.” When Y/n’s eyes finally gave up searching for someone else they fell back to Matt. His hands were gripping the strap of a messenger bag at his shoulder and unlike before, his eyes were now trained on the flowers in Y/n’s hands. Y/n shifted uncomfortably under his gaze and tried to smile.

“Of course, sure. That makes sense.” Y/n replied. “Well I’m glad you enjoyed my class and I hope you keep singing even after graduation tomorrow.”

As if she hadn’t been speaking at all Matt piped up poking at the floral arrangement, “You got flowers?” The professor watched as his eyes glazed a bit and he took a step closer. She matched his step with a step backwards– back now pressed against her office door.

“Uh huh, they’re quite nice aren’t they? Say Matt, don’t you need to get ready for graduation tomorrow morning? I heard it starts pretty early, wouldn’t want you too tired to walk, huh?” Y/n asked, leaning as far into the door as she possibly could.

Matt ignored her again, and reached to pluck the card out of the flowers and studied it. A frown settled pretty easily across his face as he turned the card over in his hand, looking for any more text to read. “Who are E and J? Why’d they send you flowers?”

“They’re friends of mine,” Y/n answered vaguely studying the way Matt’s face contorted. She may be extremely uncomfortable but she could tell when someone was jealous. ”They’re actually waiting for me right now– we’re celebrating the end of the semester so I really should get going. Wouldn’t want to leave them waiting.” She decided against locking the door, thinking it much better not to turn her back to the guy and she attempted to inch her way down the hall.

“Oh! Well, will I see you at graduation tomorrow? Maybe we can talk more then.” Matt said, following down the hall.

“Uh huh, sure.” Y/n agreed blindly, trying to put some sort of distance between them both. “And if I don’t see you tomorrow, just know I’m wishing you all the best luck post-grad.” She’d made it to the end of the hall and was finally breathing a bit easier with Matt further away. She got to the very end of the hall, just around the corner from the exit, and she turned to say goodbye (but also to check to make sure he wasn’t following her). But before she could even utter the words, her eyes widened as Matt’s arm reeled back. And everything went black.

#emily prentiss x reader #jennifer jareau x reader #jemily x reader #gnd series universe #msschemmenti

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tvchi · 5 months ago

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Disclaimers: DO NOT COPY OR REPOST MY WORK. DO NOT TRAIN AI WITH MY WORK.

Warnings: You are in charge of your own experience! Mature Audiences ONLY: 18+, Minors DNI- Use of the N-word, Profanity, Gun Violence, Asphyxiation Pairing: black male x black female Words: 4,062k

A/N: Sorry it took so long! I am back with Part 5 of this series. This is is another development in the story. No smut this time, sorry, however I think that Adrian's story in Part 4 was enough to hold yall for now. LOL.

Summary: Terry looks for ways to advance the case and notices his longing for Y/N in her absence. When unusual circumstances bring them together, Terry has to fight to keep them both afloat. Will he rise to the occasion or must he deal with the consequences of his inaction?

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TERRY

I hadn't seen her in a few weeks, and she missed the morning department meeting. She forwarded her notes to SA Hilt, and from the presentation, she has been working her ass off. Uncovering the next auction and securing a platinum voting card to be duplicated had just brushed the surface. She retrieved snapshots of some of the faces behind the syndicate. Planning to purchase yet another real estate space for a gallery, she gathered some intel that they may be using it as a storage facility instead. What the actual inventory was remained a mystery. Last month, I took inventory of each of the containers at the docks.

During the meeting, I told the team about what I learned about the construction of the containers, weight, size, contents, and compartments. Most of the containers had hidden compartments with the sides and the rear. I found massive amounts of platinum cards in one of them— the same ones we learned were used for voting. The weight of them differed. At least four of them seemed to be of different weights even though their color, width, and length were the same. I passed the ones I collected off to SA Hilt to see if they could break down their contents. Same coating but different materials. The difference in weight had to be the key to how they were bidding or which items they were allowed to bid for. Maybe it was a way to turn in their chips after bidding, so to speak. I found no traces of coke or any drug paraphernalia anywhere. This was strange.

A good portion of the clients attending these bidding wars had strong connections to different cartels. I couldn't open the canvases on the art without it going unnoticed, but all the paintings in the storage containers were of the correct weight. Nothing felt too hollow or too heavy in one particular area. It bothered me ever since I left. Making sure to connect at least five of the security cameras to our feeds and servers, I gave the video encoder to SA Donovan. Before leaving her cubicle, I subtly attempted to ask where Y/N had been.

"Checking on your boo is sweet. You tryna make me jealous or somethin'?" she asked in a lighthearted faux snarl.

"Just wanted to make sure everyone on the team is straight. This meeting was an all-hands-on-deck meeting. She's lead, and she wasn't there." I took time making sure my delivery was even and reticent.

"Riiiiiiight," she started with a knowing eye. Technically, you've been leading since you got here, Hot Shot, and she forwarded all of her materials to you via SA Hilt. With all the information she's uncovered, I would think she's allowed a personal day or two."

"So that's what this is about? She's protesting meetings because I'm technically lead?"

"I didn't say that. I just pointed out that your statement was false and that she did her work. That work was presented on time in the meeting. That is what is required in our huddles at The Box." She was defensive and cold.

"I see" was all I managed.

"I'll let her know that you asked about her—for her safety, of course," she flashed a small, curt smile and went back to looking at the image on her screen.

Taking my leave, I wondered what that was about. Am I on Donovan's shit list too? I don't even know what I did. Regardless, I needed to lay eyes on Y/N. Stakes were getting high, and anything could happen. I arrived home in the early evening after all the paperwork I had to write, fill out, and send. That's one thing I miss about just being an SA. There is very little paperwork outside of your case. Everything has to be reviewed and signed off by me, so I'm doing most of the paperwork in my department.

Breaking up the monotony of scribbling, underlining, circling, and clicking on keys, I went for a run. The trail next to my hold-up was beautiful at sunset. I would clear my head and figure out what the next move would be. In the next two days, everything has to be flawless.

I'm sure my presence is being felt on campus, judging by the stares I get from certain employees. Adrian, no matter what Y/N wants to believe, isn't clueless or harmless. He's exactly who I think he is, and if he thinks I'm law enforcement, he will likely inform others in his organization.

As I ran, I mentally reorganized the pictures on the case board in my office, picturing where Adrian fit in all this. He wasn't the main guy, but he literally came out of nowhere. Something about him doesn't feel right. How does an ordinary curator hire eyes on a college campus? How does an ordinary curator have a detail? I get the expensive cars and luxury apartments in the city, but he has influence. I just don't know why. Two miles skated by me according to my Apple watch; I could get in two more before heading home to hit the showers and re-working the case.

My body collided with another after making a sharp left turn. Contents of a cover cup slipped in the air while papers from a well-tanned leather satchel flew in the other direction.

"Shit!" yelped the voice beneath me.

"Damn, I'm so sorry. I didn't see you. There is sort of a blind spot…"

"It's okay. I know what you mean."

Either my eyes were deceiving me, or this was … no, my eyes definitely weren't deceiving me. I could never forget her face. Why would she be here? How was she here? If she recognizes me, that could blow the whole case, especially if she's a part of what is going on in and around that museum. She looked exactly the same as I remembered her all those years ago. She stood five foot ten inches with long jet-black hair that kissed her back two inches above her waist. Her pupils were infused with the color of jade, her lips were soft and shaped in a relaxed pout, and her facial structure was every model's dream. Her athletic frame was garbed in a loose burgundy jumpsuit and a black leather jacket.

I stood paralyzed for a moment before deciding to help her up. Holding out my hand, I pulled her onto her feet and made my way to the scattered papers. Gathering the ones I could, I returned to her to present my findings in scattered disarray.

"Thank you"

"Again, I apologize for running into you."

"That's okay. You know, you look really familiar."

"Do I?"

"Yeah, I can't quite put my finger on it, but it feels like we've met before," she chuckled. "My friends laugh at me and tell me that I literally say that about everyone these days. My name is —"

My phone rang loudly, interrupting the sentence I didn't need her to finish. I was well aware of who she was, but I wanted to stick around and see if she remembered who I was.

"Excuse me for a minute," I said, answering my phone. "Hello?"

The phone on the line was quiet for a moment before replying.

"We need to talk. I can meet you at The Box."

"I'm not there. I can send you an address, though."

"Okay. I'll see you there."

I turned back, eager to pick up my previous conversation, but she was no longer there. At least that remained the same. I texted the coordinates in my phone to the caller and ran home. Showering and changing into a comfortable Maison Cashmere sweatsuit, I headed out of the location. I parked two blocks down from the side entrance and walked around until I came to the front of the diner.

After ensuring I wasn't being followed or there weren't any marks in the surrounding areas, I walked in the door. I sat in the booth in the far back and ordered a coffee. I wouldn't drink it, but I did want something to warm my hands with. Besides, coffee mugs are always made for good weapons. I had taught that lesson several times to my former students at the Corp and the occasional 'badass' who tried me. The scent accosted me. I missed it. I longed for it. I silently cursed it for being absent for so long. She sat down with another man across from me in the booth. I looked at her intently, waiting for her to explain her cryptic phone call and the man beside her.

She took her time revealing the nature of this impromptu meeting; I made her feel my gaze until she started to speak.

"SA Richmond, this is Matthew. Matthew, this is SA Richmond."

"SA Richmond? What does Matthew mean to this case, SA Olisa."

"Matthew is a runner for Adrien and his half-brother."

"His what?"

"His half-brother," she said shakily.

I lifted my eyes from her and turned them on him. I didn't know whether she had secured a key witness or endangered our whole case. I watched him fiddle with his ring. His hands were steady, but he kept rotating his ring with his thumb. He had a family or at least someone he cared about losing. He caught me staring at his ring and stopped fidgeting.

"If you want to know if you should be sure about me. I don't know. I don't know about me either. I ain't never been on this side," he said, voice low and raspy. He was loyal and always had been it appeared.

"So why are we here?"

"Cause he's going too far, and I can't have that."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that he's flying a little too close to the sun, and it's starting to affect what I got going. That's a big problem."

"So y'all couldn't work it out? Say what you're not saying, or we can leave here. I got shit to do." He looked on for a while, then began to speak.

"We were thick as thieves. I was his left and right hand. Everything was good after we came back from Panama. We were on top. Then, he took a trip to El Salvador alone. I didn't hear from him until two years later. I was managing things in his absence as he requested, but we started to worry. We went to look for him for the third time, and he just popped up. He was quiet, had new scars, had new close. He looked like my nigga, but that wasn't my nigga.

Then, he got a job as a curator. I'm thinking something happened to him and he wanted out the game. No. He wanted to maintain everything we had going on and then some. Three weeks later, a lot of whites and Latinos started showing up at our shop to talk shop. I went to sit in on a meeting, thinking that we would move more weight, but he had one of the boys tell me I was gonna sit this one out. When the meeting was over, I confronted him about it. He told me that it was a separate aspect of the business that would bring us more money than ever, and it had to do with moving illegal art. Since I didn't know much about art, he would handle that. What he did want me to do was figure out how we could move weight through sculptures and shit. I was satisfied with the answer, but I was still salty that he didn't tell me himself and had a little nigga come tell me that my presence wasn't wanted.

I started noticing he would never come by the house anymore. He used to come by every chance he got to see my kid and buy her all kinds of shit she shouldn't be having. She still hasn't seen him 'till this day. I chalked it up to him not wanting to be around the women and kids because of whatever fucked up shit he had seen when he was missing. He kept his distance, and I didn't pry. Last year, around the springtime, we dropped off the illegal art out the back of the gallery, and I saw her. Alana. He ain't tell me he had a girl. He met my great-grandmother. He wouldn't keep something like him having a girl from me unless he was truly cool on me. All the things I made up in my head about him not wanting to be around women and children were a lie.

I went inside from the back and went to the gallery floor. I picked up a program and a glass of champagne and watched him make a speech. His eyes were hollow. Everyone clapped as he rejoined the crowd. I watched him with her…you," he said, looking at Y/N, "he looked like he found something. Like you brought a flicker of whatever he had left back to the surface.

I interrupted them and introduced myself. He was polite, but he was annoyed. After Alana and I exchanged words, he started treating me like the help. I waited until he was finished and looked him in the eye. Facing him head-on, I ensured he caught the drift I was sending before apologizing for interrupting their evening. Then I left. Since then, this niggas had been giving me dummy missions to do. Whenever I tried to confront him about what was happening, he made an excuse to leave. The last time we got into a heated exchange.

Last week, I got a call from him saying that one of the drivers was missing and something went wrong. He needed me to be at the port, get the container, and then drop them off at another location. When I tried to question why I needed to drop off a seaside container at another location when we had already paid to occupy a private portion of the port, he told me that I needed to do what he said for once. Then he said the word 'please'. This nigga rarely used the word please and I damn sure never heard it since he got back from where ever the fuck he was for 2 years.

That's when I knew something was wrong. I got to the port, intercepted the container, and took it to the location he sent me. I had to know the reason this nigga begged me to get this container. When I opened it, I couldn't believe what the fuck I saw." His voice caught in his throat. His eyes moistened. "They not running drugs man, they running—"

"Excuse me, I was wondering if you all had an extra bottle of ketchup on your table. They forgot to bring me some packets for my burger," a stranger with a red hat said, motioning to the ketchup on the table.

Matthew stilled. I handed the ketchup bottle to the man and turned back to Matthew.

"Aye, I gotta go," Matthew said.

"Wait, where are you going?" Y/N asked.

"Thanks for your time," he replied.

"Matthew, you told us—" Y/N started.

"Thanks for your time," he repeated, cutting her off.

It was no longer safe. He stood, looking at me for a second, and then he was gone just as quickly. I motioned for Y/N to sit back down. We sat quietly, eyes saying what we knew our lips could not. I stirred my tea as I looked up at all the exit signs. Where there were once slate grey doors now stood men, appearing like shadows emanating from no particular place. They varied in height but were not below 5'9". They wore dark clothing, faces obscured. No one else in the diner seemed to notice they were there until they started walking towards us from all directions.

"210, 240, 175, 180," I said calmly, still stirring and hoping she understood what I meant. Her eyes left me, and she looked behind me.

"210, 245, 176, 180," she corrected.

I took a swing of my coffee. It was just how I liked it.

The first man approached. Mr. 210. He approached me from the right, attempting to place his gun discreetly at my temple. His first mistake is that he got too close. Close combat was where I came alive. Grabbing the gun with my left hand and reaching the man's neck with my right, I slammed his head on the table repeatedly. The other approached from my two o'clock position to help his "friend". Y/N, to my surprise, jammed her steak knife into his right leg just in the inner.

Doubling over in pain, 245 made enough space between him and 176 for me to throw the now empty coffee mug in the air and have it land right in between 176's nose. Retrieving 210's gun from his waistline, I wasted no time firing two rounds into 176's leg and thigh. I turned around and found Y/N struggling with 180. He had her in the air by her throat. Sweat streamed down her face as she tried to free herself from his grasp. She kicked and clawed, but he was unrelenting. The light was leaving her eyes as blood failed to reach her head. As she got closer and closer to unconsciousness, so did I.

The walls began closing in, and invisible shadows took hold of my limbs. Breathing became difficult. My heart rate tripled, and my chest tightened. Vomit threatened to escape my lips while my stomach churned. My vision darkened. Her eyes turned slowly toward me as if I was the last thing she wanted to see before she went. Pleading. Summoning. Beckoning. Conjuring. Her eyes rolled back.

Blood spattered on the side of her face. She dropped. The man who previously had her in death's grasp fell to his left. The sound of his body hitting the floor caused me to look around to see who fired the shot. He wasn't the only body hitting the floor. The rest of his crew lay in puddles of their own crimson. I scanned the area quickly and realized that there was no one else here but us, and the heated metal that laid them to rest lay in my hands. Pushing the questions of how this came to be and how I couldn't remember any of it aside, I ran to her.

"Y/N, hey, wake up for me. Please. Get up for me, sweetheart," I pleaded. She stirred but not by much. Scooping her in my arms, I headed for my vehicle. Leaving through the diner's doors, I noticed a final body lying on the floor a block away. Without getting any closer, I already knew who that body belonged to.

My pace quickened. Once in the car, I headed to the nearest hospital. In the emergency room, they peeled her from me while they placed her on a gurney and rushed her into a room. The questions and discussions around me melted into the background. I couldn't address them without addressing some of my own.

What would've happened if she died? Would I have died too? Would it have sent me back to that place? How would she explain this to that fuck nigga who probably arranged for this ambush? Could she go back there? Are her things there? Is her cover blown, and if so, how was she made? Would she mind staying with me? Is there someone she would want me to call to let them know that she's okay? Shit, is she okay?

"Sir, I need you to tell me what happened," a voice said. I looked down toward where the sound was coming from.

"It was an ambush."

"Are you too gang or law enforcement?"

"What do you think?"

"I don't know what I think. You haven't answered a single question since you got here, and you showed up with an asphyxiated woman in your arms?"

Gathering the darkness in her tone and the scenario she painted, I began telling her what happened.

"I need to use your phone. I need to call the team."

"There's a phone at the nurse's station."

Within minutes, the team swarmed into the hospital in plain clothes. I debriefed as best as I could under the circumstances. We still had no word on her whereabouts until finally, the doctor came out to the waiting room. Brooke and I were the first on our feet.

"Is this the Olisa party?"

"Yes," Brooke and I said in unison.

"Nice to meet you all. My name is Dr. Sanders. She was fortunate. A second longer, and she wouldn't have recovered."

"So she's okay," Brooke asked, pleading for good news.

"She'll recover, but it will be slow. A good bit of time passed when oxygen wasn't getting to her brain. Her memory will start coming back slowly but surely. She knows who and where she is but doesn't remember how she got here. Hopefully, seeing your faces will jog her memory. I will say her reflexes are impeccable."

"What do you mean?" I inquired.

"Well, one of the nurses startled her, and she grabbed a syringe from the table and stabbed him with it. The whole thing happened in less than 2 seconds," he replied, fascinated.

"That's slow for her. I need to see her," Brooke urged.

"I can take you to her, and you all can visit her two by two. She will need her rest, but I understand that you all have questions to ask her," he finished, leading Brooke to the room.

Two by two team members went into her room and visited her. Some debriefed her and reported how much she knew.

"Sir, she can't go back to that apartment," I blurted. I didn't know that her cover wasn't already blown or how she would explain what happened today. Her phone was in the wind, and she hadn't checked in with that nigga all day.

"We have people sitting in the apartment. No one has come in or out of there since you placed the call. Y/N had people tailing Adrian when she apprehended the asset. He was at the museum all day. We don't know who is behind this or how much Adrian knows. Until we find that out, her being in the wind will raise suspicion."

"With all due respect, I don't give a shit. She's not going back there."

"Not sure when you and Y/N got so close, but you need to get over that and look at this logically. This is going on 6 months of hard work, and how we handle this is crucial."

"She brings his former right hand in and is ambushed at a diner across town. Do you think this is, what, a coincidence?"

"You should watch your tone. We've known her way longer than you have. We all have a vested interest in making sure whoever did this pays for what they did. Now is not the time to get reckless."

"She doesn't even remember this asshole. What lie are you going to make her say that is actually going to stick.? Her life depends on lying this day away and making it so convincing that he doesn't dig further into who left marks on her neck. You haven't met this nigga. He's not the type to let that go. He's either going to think she's fucking around and would burn the city looking for who she's sleeping with, or he knows how and why she's fucked up right now and will be looking to finish the job. You're sending her right into the pit. It's all fucked. She's not going back there."

"Where do you think it's safe for her to go to?"

"With me."

"And you think internal affairs would be good with that?

"I'll have her held up at her own space of my choosing where I can have close eyes on her and guys I trust until I string that bitch up and get answers."

He stopped asking questions because he knew my mind was made up and there was no use in discussing the topic any further. He cursed under his breath and left, pressing numbers into his cell phone. I hoped whoever he was calling was packing up all her shit from her house because she was coming with me. She was mine.

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As always, thanks for reading!! Check out all the previous parts here: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4. Please hit the comments with your feedback, give suggestions on what you'd like to see, and let me know who you like and don't. Talk TO ME!!! I've tagged everyone that I could remember, but if you're coming across me for the first time and want to be tagged in this fic or any others, please comment and let me know you wanna be tagged!

Tags: @thecapodomme @writers-of-tmblr @melaninpov @spaceslutsworld @nahimjustfeelingit-writes@mymusicbias@the-black-label@master-builder42 @miraculously-dumb-bitch @megamindsecretlair@hopefulromantic1@tranquilfandomer@thadelightfulone@vivalaorgasm@hotgrlcece@planetblaque@blackgurlnhermoods@andriaharris@theblacklewinsky@kumkaniudaku@lovelyflames@girlbeblogging@toiadeenovels@longpause-awkwardsmile@sweettea-and-honeybutter@sirenmouths@almostelectroniccheesecake@liquorlaughslove@meleekabenjamin @19jammmy @thoseprettywords@nahimjustfeelingit-writes@stellarxfresh@noirelyfe@moooonluvr@kinginwithbreezy-blog@bunniibooooo@sk1121-blog1@luckydaye777@hgabdakhtui@ovohanna24@bratattack209@greantii@rue0224@jazziejax@whatdreamsaremadeofbitch@absentmindeddreamer@soft-persephone@dragonfly1207@strawberrymoon45@kxngkaykay@nayaesworld @uzumaki-rebellion @wolfiediaries @off-pink @zoey101-2

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mommaboyhalo · 3 months ago

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Glenn getting revived at the end of s2 is cool and all but like, the world kept moving around him. Legally he's been dead/missing for 20 something years. He has no earth family to go back to, Taylor wants nothing to do with him (rightfully so). Cassandra probably remembers him as Nick's drunk absent father that crashed on the couch for 3 days and never showed up again. I'm a lover of angst but to me that is so tragic.

A small headcanon is he still has Nicholas Close's social security card tucked in his wallet and just takes on that name legally (with Nicky's permission ofc) and crashes in Nicky's apartment that he uses for storage and earth visitation. When he's questioned about his age it's like.

Employer: some stuff came up on your background check, it says you're 41

Glenn: yeah?

Employer: Nick...

Glenn: how old do you think I am??? (He's like I'm his late 50's)

Employer: it also says you are transgender

Glenn: yeah? And? Legally you can't ask me shit about that

Employer:...

#glenn close #hes so special to me my loser failure of a human man #he had morgan again #he was being cool and fighting demons and now hes just some guy #goneetly thats well deserved but damn #nick close #nicky foster #dungeons and daddies s2 #dndads #dungeons and daddies #trans nicky #hes so special to me

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a-super-cutie · 2 months ago

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Persistence. Obsession. Persistently obsessed.

(Part 8 of 8) NSFW chapter, MDNI, 18+ series

cecil stedman x female!superhero!reader

wc: 2,645

series synopsis: You and Cecil have started seeing each other but your jobs (mostly his) keep interrupting date after date. He clearly thinks this won't work for you, but how many times do you have to tell him how utterly head over heels you are for him?? Well, if telling won't work, maybe showing him will.

Masterlist ~~~ Last Part ~~~ Next Part?

The flight back to Cecil’s apartment was faster this time. You descended the stairs and entered his floor, quickly finding his door again. It was locked and the knob required a regular key. You pulled out the card and tapped it around the door. Nothing happened. You tapped the card on the knob and heard something unlock on the other side. Why did you think this man's home wouldn't have the highest security? You turned the knob and entered.

The apartment lit up. It was small and looked dated like it hadn’t been renovated in over a decades. It had a living room with a couch and a tv on an old wooden furniture set and to the right was a sliding glass door to a metal-railed patio, just big enough to hold a lawn chair and a weathered white cooler.

The kitchen was clean and bare except for a coffee maker and a dirty mug in the sink. You couldn’t help it and decided to give in to your snoopy self. You opened the fridge: takeout; the cabinets: empty except a bowl, a plate, and a cup; drawers: a fork and some tongs; and what looked like a pantry: actually a washing machine and dryer.

Why would he set you up in a nicer place than his own apartment? This place was worse than your old one.

You headed to the bedroom and sat on his bed. It was nice. He splurged on this at least. The sheets were light grey and the covers a light blue and white, slightly quilted. His pillows were thin and matched the bedding. Under the bed was nothing. His closet had all his suits and pants hung up and a drop down storage system holding all his shirts. There was a foldout ironing setup on the other side with his nice shiny shoes lined up on the bottom. There was a fan in the corner facing the window but it had collected a bit of dust. You didn’t open his drawers (you weren’t full psycho), but you did pick up the framed picture.

It was of a dog with a little hanker-chief scarf as a collar. Sweet.

You placed it back down and headed to the bathroom across the hall. It was clean and bare like the kitchen. The shower curtain had… bullet holes?? On the other side was a tub with an all-in-one shampoo bottle with streaks of dried suds around it. You tisked at that and headed back to his room.

You unpacked the cozy sweaters and blanket and set the bag at the foot of the bed for later. “Oh yeah!” You dug out the bath bomb and placed it near the tub. “Just in case,” you winked at it.

You floated through the hall into the living room when a bright light caught your attention. Cecil teleported in by the front door. He locked it and turned to you. He gave you a faint smile. “It’s not much.”

You flew into his arms and hugged him tight. “I’m living the dream!” You pulled away and kissed him. “I can’t believe I’m here!”

He chuckled and headed for his room, undoing his red tie as he walked. “Neither can I,” he threw over his shoulder.

You gave him space and went to the couch. It wasn’t anything fancy but as you settled in, you could imagine cozying up to Cecil here. Antsy and nervous, you giggled to yourself and flew back to the hallway entrance to wait.

“You hungry or tired?” He called out.

Your stomach grumbled. “Mmm, I could be persuaded to midnight munch with you.”

“It’s two.” He came back out in grey sweats and one of the cozy sweaters you brought.

You squealed and rushed him again, hugging him tight. “You are so fuckable right now.” You looked at his flushed face with puppy-dog eyes. “Just saying.”

He looked away quickly and cleared his throat. "Fuckable," he mumbled. “Well good.” He walked away smiling and picked up the oldest piece of machinery you’d ever seen.

“A LAND-LINE? Do people still use these things?” You ogled the thing as Cecil dialed. “I think the last time I held one I talked for hours and hurt my neck and shoulder for a week.”

He ignored you. “The usual, and some garlic wings, and curly fries. Uh, d’you have any salad options? How much extra to pick one up?”

You hovered around him as he spoke on the phone. “Ranch dressing,” you whispered. “Lots.”

He pushed you away and you giggled, swatting at his hand playfully. He gave out a different address than his own. “Just put it in the locker. Use the left one too if it doesn’t all fit.” He hung up.

“I didn’t hear ranch.”

He rolled his eyes and opened the fridge. On the door was a big bottle of ranch. “Imported.”

“Ha! No way! From where?”

“Canada. From a restaurant I like.”

"Pssh, Canada. Does that even count as 'imported'?"

He closed the door and leaned on the counter with his hands in his pockets. “What do you think? What did you gleam from all the snooping you did?”

Your hands flew to cover your mouth. “You bugged your own place?”

He snorted. “No.”

“Then -“

“I guessed and you just confirmed it.” Well, he didn’t seem mad. He slid closer. “We should work on your interrogation skills.”

You touched down and leaned into his chest. “If it means more time with you, gladly.” You sighed and snuggled into him. “You’re heavenly.” You heard his heartbeat quicken at your words and smiled at yourself. Gods, were you in love? Is this what love felt like? You hoped so.

He pushed you back, just enough to tilt your chin up. You hands gripped his sweatshirt. His scent was strong, slight sweat and some strong alcoholic drink lingered heavily even through the clean sweatshirt he wore. It had clearly been a long day for him.

“I’m going to fuck you tonight." His eyes were half lidded and glinted with a reflection of you, doe-eyed and embarrassingly eager. He looked down at you like he was savoring you, embedding this memory of you clinging to him into his mind, saved to be replayed or used, meant to be stitched together with darker fantasies.

You stood entranced by this man. Your hands trembled with fistfuls of his sweatshirt as your thighs pressed together at his promise. Your teeth pulled at your bottom lip and as his hands slid down to your waist you whimpered his name. He was winding you up and he wasn’t even trying.

He leaned his head closer, his hair draping forward like silver curtains shielding you from the outside world, caging you in.

“Cecil,” you begged pathetically.

A sly grin pulled at his lips. “Go cool off,” he ordered. He slipped out from under you, leaving you hot and bothered, and stood next to his door. A green light on the locking mechanism turned on. “Food’s here.”

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment at how desperate you clearly were. Forget obsession, what do you call it when you turn into a pathetic puddle of need from a single glance and a few choice words.

Cecil opened the door and picked up the bags set on his mat. He closed it and gave you a smirk.

Food. Clear your head you’re just going to have dinner with him right now. You cleared your throat and regulated your breathing. “Yum. How'd it end up on your mat?”

The food was eaten in silence. Every bite Cecil had taken was done with a self-satisfied smugness at your obvious avoidance of him. Every time you looked at him all you could think about was his words from before. No, not just words. Facts. Promises. A prophecy he would personally fulfill. Your hands trembled with hope.

He had no dining table and there was more food than could fit on either of your laps. You’d eaten on the floor by the couch, next to each other side-by-side. When you had eventually dropped something - your napkin - his hand had darted out between your legs to pick it up for you. You bit your lip as his hand stayed for a second too long to be a coincidence. He’d pulled the napkin away and let his fingers glide over your trembling thigh, a trail of electricity where his skin made contact with yours.

“Dropped this.” He held it out to you.

You took it and swallowed. “Thanks.”

You now helped him clean up. The empty containers were thrown out and you capped his ranch and placed it back in his fridge.

He came up behind you and slid his hands around to your stomach. One traveled upward to cup your left breast while the other slid down. Your breath caught as his fingers pulled at the hem of your skirt. He crouched over you and began kissing at your neck as his fingers ignited a fire in your core. You’d tried so hard to put the embers out during dinner but there was no putting them out now, not with his fingers inching ever higher.

He bit down on your shoulder and you moaned. Your hands flew to his head to tangle in his hair.

His fingers slid over your soaked underwear and spread apart, each finger hooking onto either side of the fabric's edge. He pulled the piece of cloth aside and dipped his fingers between your folds. You melted instantly. You became weightless and Cecil immediately pulled you into him.

You couldn't believe he was finally giving you the relief you so desperately craved. There was no time for embarrassed apologies for already being dripping wet for him, not while he worked you with no hesitations.

Two of his fingers slipped deep inside as his thumb stayed out to rub you delicately. You whimpered and moaned as he did what he wanted to you. His other hand eventually slipped under your shirt and bra to squeeze your burning flesh.

“Is this what you wanted?” he murmured in your ear. “Is this what you fantasize about? What have you been thinking that made you so ready for me?”

You whimpered. Even if you could respond, the sound of obscene wet squelching was louder than you could possibly muster in your current state. Your mind focused on the feel of his fingers inside you, so good and they were so long.

“Words. Use your words.”

Your eyes rolled back as his thumb pressed into you harder and circled faster. “Cecil!”

“Better,” he breathed. “But not an answer.”

His hand pulled at your nipple as he continued pleasuring you. You opened your thighs wider, letting yourself be used to the fullest extent by him, letting him play with you at his will and whim, knowing there was nothing this man could do that wouldn't have your toes curling and mouth watering with excruciating want. Not once did he ask if you were enjoying his services, your unimpeded sounds of pure bliss being all he needed to know his movements were perfect.

You were moments from climaxing on his hand, your legs trembling as they remained spread for him. You pressed into him, your head rolling back onto his shoulder as he continued.

His lids were half closed, his smile casual and cocky, he wasn’t thrusting his hardness into you, he was in complete control. You were the mess now. You were the one moaning his name and coming undone from a few minutes of his effortless ministrations.

“I asked you a question.”

“You,” you sobbed. “Everything you did on our third date.” His fingers rewarded you with deeper thrusts.

“Good,” he murmured. “Now stay still.”

That wasn’t a problem, you could barely move on your own. His fingers slipped out of you and you protested with sad whines. His hands squeezed your hips reassuringly before leaving your body entirely. He pushed you forward slightly before pulling you back into him.

His hands found your hips again and he lined you up where he wanted you. While one hand pulled your skirt up to your waist the other pulled the thin fabric between your legs further away. You heard strands snap but your mind was quickly distracted when something hard and long pushed its way into your core from behind.

“Oh yes!” You missed the feel of him deep inside you. Since that night you’ve thought about it regularly, almost nightly.

His hands held your waist and kept you on him as you squirmed in anticipation of the hard thrusts he'd done before. His girth filled you how you remembered, but that was all he gave you for now. “Patience.” When you settled he positioned himself how he was before; one hand holding onto your breast while the other began rubbing at you again. Your core squeezed at him with every wave of pleasure and soon his quiet breaths turned to grunts as he throbbed. “I think of you every night,” he admitted.

Your head swarmed with images of him thinking of you late at night, in his bed after a hard day at work, his hand gripping his erection while he moaned your name wishing you were there. That was certainly something you'd have to see one day.

Your head turned to bite his neck, pulling a moan from him. His hips bucked and you hummed with pleasure. He shook his head and took measured breaths, but when you wiggled he pulled you into him quickly, trying to restrict your movements for his sake.

With no other options, you let gravity pull you down, feeling him bottom out and he yelped. His eyes closed and his teeth bit his lip as he tried to stay in control. He wanted more, you could see it in the way he trembled, the way his hands shook. He couldn’t keep still for much longer. He tried to stay leaning on the counter, tried to keep giving off nonchalance and indifference as you came undone but he was already hunching forward, his shoulders already tensing. So so close to breaking.

You rolled your hips slowly.

His breathes came out in pants. He was finally beaten. He shoved your torso forward, bending you nearly ninety degrees, and gripped your hips with a bruising intensity. Your hands reach out to catch yourself but you were pulled back into him before they could touch his fridge. You were speared like helpless prey.

You called out for him and begged him to take you however he pleased.

“Oh, I fucking will.” Cecil began pushing and pulling you off and onto his cock with increasing speed, your walls wrapping and molding around him with delicious ease.

You remained weightless and helpless to his actions. You could barely keep your head up as he rammed you into him over and over. Despite him clearly taking you for his own pleasure, yours was mounting, building and growing, and before you could manage to yell his name once more your orgasm washed over you like a tsunami leaving you in ruins.

Cecil growled your name as his pounding rhythm faltered. He kept you pressed into him as he groaned and curled over your back. Your hands pressed onto the closed fridge to keep your head from hitting the door. Ropes of sticky fluid coated your pulsing walls making you moan his name over and over until you were filled to the brim. After a few raspy breaths from your boyfriend behind you, you were finally released.

You turned around immediately and let your eyes take him in. His hair was a disheveled mess and stuck to his sweaty forehead, his reddened cock throbbed and dripped onto the tile between you, and his sweatpants were halfway down his thighs along with black underwear you hadn’t yet seen on him. He straightened and threw his head back with a satisfied sigh, leaning back onto the counter, his hands gripping the edge to keep upright.

You pressed into him and kissed his neck a million times. His arms wrapped around you and held you tighter than he ever had before.

“Did - was that ok?”

You smiled into his neck and nodded. “That was the hottest, sexiest sex that could ever possibly be achieved.” His neck muffled your words but he still pressed his head into yours as you continued kissing him.

“I could not agree more.” Without setting you down he took you to his bed and climbed over you. He gave you a shy smile that made you swoon. "Am I lame if I say it’s bedtime now?”

“No,” you laughed.

Neither of you bothered to undo the covers, instead he just threw your blanket over the both of you and waited for you to change into your sweatshirt before cuddling into you. He closed his eyes and smiled, knowing you were still gazing at him in wonder. You pushed a stray strand behind his ear and kissed his scarred cheek.

“You know I gave you the keycard permanently, right?” He opened his eye a sliver and snuggled closer.

You jaw had fallen open. “Like… like I can come here every night? Like EVERY night?!”

You felt him smile into your neck. “Mhmm.”

You grinned and curled into him. “You’re going to get so annoyed with me!” You poked him until he grumbled.

“Sleep.”

You nodded and kissed him one last time. “I’ll behave.”

“I’ll make you behave. Every night if I have to.”

You giggled and nodded. He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into him. He fell asleep with a smile and you knew how genuine it was. Cecil Stedman wanted you in his bed every night. He wanted you in his home. In his life. And you would gladly comply with anything this man asked of you.

Masterlist ~~~ Last Part ~~~ Next Part?

a/n: Hope you enjoyed part eight! Sorry this wasn't posted sooner, I was moving and all my stuff has been packed for days DX This is the final part but there miiiiight be more in the future since I have some ideas :) the next stuff I post will be one shots and maybe a separate series soon after I finish it

#cecil steadman x you #cecil stedman #cecil stedman x reader #cecil stedman x female reader #cecil stedman x female!reader #cecil stedman x female!superhero #cecil stedman x superhero #cecil stedman invincible #cecil stedman x hero reader #cecil stedman fanfic

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