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daxisyzz · 2 months ago

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hiiii i hope you are well !!! i was wondering if you could maybe do a fic where the reader gets kidnapped and tortured by hydra on a mission or something, and after a while bucky and the team find her and save her but she’s so psychologically damaged that she’s scared of everyone? preferably lots and lots of protective and comforting bucky as he looks after her and he becomes the only person she’s comfortable with, all the angst and hurt/comfort with a happy ending would be amazing!!! thanks 🩷

Heyyy!! Hope you're doing well too. Writing this fic made me cry so I hope it's what you expected. Sorry for answering late🙃

Only safe with you

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, angst, trauma recovery, Kidnapping, psychological torture (not graphic), PTSD, panic attacks, emotional vulnerability, mentions of touch aversion, recovery

Word count: 1.1k+

You didn’t scream when they took you.

That came later—when your voice cracked raw from begging the shadows for mercy, for death, for something other than the cold numbness pressing in around you like icewater under your skin. But in the beginning, there was only silence. The kind that hollows you out from the inside.

The kind that makes you forget your own name.

You had been captured by Hydra. A mission gone wrong. A corner turned too fast. A shot fired too late. And then it all disappeared beneath the haze of a needle and the slam of a steel door.

No one found you. Not for weeks.

And in that time, you stopped existing.

You curled in on yourself, starved and shaking, while voices you didn't recognize whispered in the dark, breaking you down with every calculated word. They told you you were abandoned. That no one was coming. That you were alone because you were unworthy of being loved.

They never needed to touch you.

They just watched you rot from the inside out.

When the team finally found you, you didn’t recognize them.

You heard the explosion first—the thunder of boots, the sharp bark of Bucky’s voice, the sound of someone screaming your name like it meant something.

But all you saw were more shadows.

You tried to crawl into the wall when they burst into your cell. Your fingernails broke against the concrete, your body instinctively folding into itself, your mouth whispering pleas in a language you didn’t know you remembered.

You didn’t know Bucky was crying until his tears hit your hands.

"Hey," he choked, dropping to his knees, blood on his knuckles and desperation in his eyes. "It’s me. It’s Bucky. I’m here, okay? I’ve got you. You’re safe."

But safety was a concept that no longer made sense to you.

When his hand brushed yours, you screamed.

You screamed like you were dying. Like you were on fire.

And something in Bucky broke that day.

The jet ride back was too bright. Too loud. You were swaddled in a blanket like a child, staring through people who whispered your name with eyes full of quiet sorrow. Natasha sat across from you, tense and silent, her hand clenched in her lap.

Steve paced quietly in the back, eyes heavy with guilt.

Tony said nothing, choosing instead to sit beside you in stillness.

They all felt the ache, but none knew how to hold it.

Because they saw the pieces of you, scattered and bloody, and none of them knew how to put you back together.

Except for Bucky.

He didn’t leave your side. Not once.

You wouldn’t let anyone else near you. The first time Bruce tried to assess your wounds, you had a panic attack so violent your lips turned blue.

But Bucky?

You let him stay.

You didn’t speak. You didn’t sleep. You didn’t see him. But he was there. Sitting on the floor, silent and patient, like he was trying to absorb your pain with every breath.

"You don’t have to talk," he whispered once, voice so low it made your ribs ache. "I’ll just be here. I’m not going anywhere."

And he wasn’t.

Not when you curled into corners, sobbing so hard you threw up.

Not when you tore your own skin in your sleep.

Not when you started to disappear into yourself again.

He stayed.

And the others watched, hurting in their own quiet ways.

Natasha lingered by your door some nights, pacing like she wanted to knock but couldn’t.

Steve brought books you didn’t read.

Tony made sure the lights never flickered in your room again.

They didn’t say much. They didn’t force anything. But they were there.

And Bucky? He just was.

Weeks passed.

You started whispering again. Small things. Words like "water" or "blanket" or "stay."

Always to Bucky.

Only to him.

He was the first person you let touch you again.

A pinky finger. Brushing yours. Barely there.

You sobbed when it happened. Clutched your chest like it hurt. Like it burned to feel something again.

Bucky didn’t cry. Not then.

But that night, Steve found him in the hallway outside your door, fists bruised and bloodied against the wall.

"I can’t lose her again," Bucky whispered, voice shattering. "I can’t."

Recovery wasn’t linear.

Some days you smiled.

Some days you screamed.

Some nights you let Bucky hold your hand.

Some nights you clawed at your own skin, begging him to make it stop.

And he did.

Not with force.

Not with words.

Just with presence.

He’d pull you into his lap, wrap his arms around your shaking body, press his lips to your temple and whisper, "You’re safe. You’re not alone. I’ve got you."

Until you believed him.

Even if only for a moment.

One night, you whispered, "Why did you stay?"

Bucky looked at you, moonlight catching the cracks in him that matched your own.

"Because you matter. Because you didn’t give up. Because you let me find you."

You blinked, tears spilling freely. "I don’t feel like a person anymore."

His voice broke. "Then let me remind you how to be one."

They say healing is like a mosaic, broken pieces coming together to form something beautiful.

You were still cracked. Still healing. Still learning how to exist in a body that had been turned into a prison.

But Bucky loved you through all of it.

With hands that never rushed.

With words that never demanded.

With a heart that only ever whispered, You are safe here.

And for the first time in months, maybe years—You believed him.

One Year Later

The morning sun slipped in through the curtains, painting your room in pale gold. The shadows that once clung to the walls had long since faded, replaced by quiet warmth and slow, steady breaths.

You sat curled on the couch, a book in your lap, half-forgotten, as Bucky entered with two steaming mugs in hand. He paused in the doorway, watching you with that soft look he reserved only for you—a kind of awe, like he still couldn’t believe you were real.

"You’re staring," you said, voice lighter, steadier now.

He grinned. "Can you blame me?"

You set the book aside and took the mug he offered, your fingers brushing his without flinching. That tiny act still felt like magic sometimes.

You leaned into him when he sat beside you, and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in without a word.

There were no more nightmares that week.

You’d started laughing again. Dancing in the kitchen. Humming in the shower.

You still had days where the world felt fragile, like it could crack open beneath your feet—but you no longer fell alone.

You looked up at Bucky, your eyes soft. "Thank you for not giving up on me."

His thumb brushed your cheek. "You saved yourself. I just got to love you through it."

And you did. Slowly, then all at once. Day by day, moment by moment, you let the light back in through him.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #hurt/comfort #tw psychological abuse #tw harassment #tw panic mention #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfiction #james buchanan barnes #marvel fanfiction #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes

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jordiemeow · 2 months ago

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i love ur preacher’s daughter x dodge! thinking about them doing everything *but* actual sex cause it’s “not a sin” that way

warnings: smut, 18+, f!receiving oral, handjob, everything but fucking tbh, mentions of religious guilt, reader watches him touch himself, a little bit of manipulation...

notes: not proofread i’m nauseous and horny ab cowboys so here x

Dodge knew what he was getting into when he started dating you. That sweet girl that blushes and sputters when he suggests anything more than a kiss. Even a peck on the mouth had your cheeks hot to the touch and eyes averted at the start of your relationship.

But you're getting there. Or rather... he's getting there. Slowly but surely, you're growing more receptive to his subtle demands for more. You stop protesting when his tongue slips into your mouth, or his hand slides a little too far up your skirt. No more making excuses to go when your goodnight kiss in his truck gets a little too heated.

He takes it as his sign to push a little further. As far as your daddy knows, you're at Bible study with your friends. Not sitting with your knees planted on either side of Dodge, his tongue exploring the warm cavern of your mouth as his hands massage up and down the back of your thighs under your dress. There's a movie playing from his TV—Pride and Prejudice borrowed from his sister, because you dubbed the rest of the DVD sets under his bed 'too inappropriate.' Bless your poor little heart.

It's clearly long forgotten. The pair of you are more focused on swallowing each other's soft moans to care about the quartet playing behind you. And then, suddenly, you feel a finger glide over the front of your white underwear, and you jolt forward, forehead bumping against his.

"D-Dodge—"

He hardly flinches at the collision, smiling so innocently at you that you're almost convinced it never happened. "What?"

"You can't—" You take a moment to collect yourself. Swallow thickly. "Too much."

"Why?" His head tilts.

"Because it's a sin," you reply, as if he's stupid. "You can't touch me there. The... the good Lord's watchin'!"

"He watches everything else we do. Why's this any different?"

He has to swallow back a laugh when he watches the way your brows pinch together as you think that through. Logic is very hard to come by when his hand is still resting on the inside of your thigh.

"Well, it's almost—" You pause, lowering your voice to a hushed whisper, "—sex."

Dodge smiles. How cute.

"It's not sex, sweetheart," he says, mimicking your hushed tone. His other hand moves up to pet the back of your head as if to console you. "Don't count unless there's penetration."

You eye him warily. "What do you mean?"

"Well, what's the Bible say about it? No sex without intention to procreate 'n' all that bullshit?" He ignores your pout at the way you call the teachings bullshit. "Can't even be sex if my cock—"

"Dodge."

"What else am I supposed to call it?"

"Just don't say it at all!"

He sighs. Starts over again. "What I'm tryin' to say is that a little bit of touching ain't a sin. No penetration. Not even like our..." He pauses to search for the most appropriate word he can think of. "Parts... will be touchin'."

You frown a little, mulling that over in your head. Well, it makes sense to a certain extent. Besides, if touching in any capacity is a sin, you're already going straight to Hell for how many times he's had a calloused hand cupping your breast or squeezing your ass. It still just seems like a little much though...

"But the sin is lust, not the actual— oh—"

His fingers brush over you again, and the innocent smile from earlier isn't so innocent anymore when you meet his eyes. "Stop worryin' your pretty little head, darlin'. I promise you it's not a sin. Right hand up to God." Funny, considering his right hand is currently the one snuck under your dress and touching your clothed cunt.

You try again. "But Dodge—"

"But what?" He says, fingers dragging back and forth against you in a way that has your thighs pressing together instinctively. "You don't trust me?"

You shake your head. "No, no, I trust you."

He hums. "So, what, you don't want it? Is that it?"

The truth is, you do want it. He's hardly doing more than lazily rubbing you through your panties and there's already an unfamiliar stirring in your gut. Like the build-up of something that could be absolutely explosive. The Big Bang, your brain traitorously supplies. Now you feel even worse. You've never even tried to touch yourself before—considered it, sure, but any time your hand ended up toying with the inseam of your sleep shorts it was quick to retract. You've had to apologise to the picture of Mary overlooking your bed a few times for the almost-slips.

"... No," you lie, straight through your teeth.

But he laughs. He's no idiot. He can see the way your gaze is fixed on his forehead rather than his eyes. Can feel the way your thighs clench tighter with each drag of his fingers, your cunt pulsing a little too eagerly for someone who doesn't want this. "No?" He repeats mockingly. His mouth moves to hover right by your ear, and you shiver at the warm puff of air against it. "Then why are you so wet?"

"Well, that's... that's natural!" You insist weakly.

"Is it?" He muses. "You always walk around with your panties damper than a horse's back on a summer's day?"

You wither under the amused look he gives you. You know he's just being an ass now. But there's a glint in his eyes—not quite mischief, something a little darker than that. Something that makes any thoughts of the fiery depths turn to mush.

"... Promise it's not a sin?" You ask tentatively.

Dodge offers you the pinky of his other hand, and the one between your legs stills for just a moment. Your lip catches between your teeth, indenting the soft flesh as you weigh up the truth behind his words. Deep down, a part of you knows that he's just bullshitting you to get his way. You could be about to commit the most heinous sin imaginable and he wouldn't give two shits.

... But then his hand starts back up again, and before you know it, your pinky is looped through his.

It doesn't take long before your dress is hitched up and you're on your back, hair spilling over his pillow. Your panties are discarded somewhere on the floor, a leg hooked over his shoulder as his mouth laps at your sensitive parts. What started as kitten licks and gentle circles of his fingers quickly turned into something else.

Now you feel as if he's trying to devour you.

"S’that good, sweetheart? Feel nice?"

"Nggghh, yeah. Oh my goodness—"

There's been a few times where he's been tempted to slip a finger in. Ease you open, feel the way you tighten around his digits when you climax for the first time. But he'd said no penetration, and Dodge has a feeling you'd be on his ass about semantics. He'll work you up to that eventually, he's sure of it.

So he sticks to working you over with his mouth. Eagerly lapping up the sweet juices your cunt provides him with every time his thumb flicks over your clit just right, his other hand threaded through one of your own. Thumb reassuringly rubbing over the back of your knuckles despite the faster pace his other hand is taking.

And despite the fact his mouth is mostly occupied, he doesn’t stop talking you through it the entire time. "Just like that, angel. Keep makin’ those pretty sounds for me. Y’sound so sweet. Taste so sweet."

Or he tuts. "Keep your legs open. That’s it, uh huh. That’s my girl."

A groan this time. "Fuck, can’t believe I waited so long to do this. S’heavenly, baby."

Neither of you even notice the credits of the movie rolling. All you can hear is your own keening moans and the lewd sound of his tongue lapping at your pussy. The feeling is foreign, unfamiliar, but the peak of ecstasy you're approaching has you thinking life in eternal Hell might not be so bad if this is what you get to experience down there.

That thought is quickly cut off when your orgasm crashes over you. Sudden, overwhelming, your back arching up off the bed as your entire body jolts with pleasure. You swear you black out for a minute, and he takes great pleasure in the way your lashes flutter and your eyes roll back.

The greatest part of all is the cry you let out. "Yes, Dodge, God, yes, yes, yes!" It's blasphemous, the way you worship both him and the Lord in one breath.

He works you through it diligently. Not a drop goes to waste, and he's still moaning against you when your own whimpers die down. When he's fully sated and some of the trembling in your body has subsided, a firm kiss is placed against your inner thigh before he rises back up your body to tuck your hair behind your ear.

All you can manage is a dopey smile, and he grins crookedly. "Worth it?"

"I think so," you say breathlessly.

When you drop to your knees by your bed that night, Rosary beads threaded through your fingers and head bowed, you apologise profusely. But you haven't been smote down yet, maybe you'll be okay.

... Maybe.

It becomes a bit of a routine after that. Whether it's in his truck with your leg hitched up on the dashboard or when he has the house alone, Dodge just can't get enough of eating you out. And every time, you go back to pretending it never happened. You're still daddy's little angel.

There's a pleasant buzz running through your body as Dodge tugs your underwear back up for you, looking just as smug as ever. Dimpled smile, chin still slick with your wetness, as he eases your skirt back down for you. One would think it'd get less intense over time... but God, he has your toes curling and legs trembling each time his mouth descends on your cunt.

"Y'know," he starts, sitting up on his knees and giving your dishevelled state an approving once-over. "I think I might go a lil' insane if I don't get some attention of my own."

It's enough to give you pause. Fair enough—he's spent the last few weeks nestled between your folds and never once asked you to return the favour. But you've never touched a man like that before.

He catches your hesitation. Reaches out to thumb at your cheek, gaze softening a little. "Ain't gotta do nothing, sweetheart. But the blue balls are killin' me."

Blue balls. You almost roll your eyes. "So... what, then?" You ask, shifting to sit up as your fingers curling into the soft fabric in your lap.

He doesn't reply right away. Tilts his head, gauges your expression. "Can I show you? Won't take much. You ain't gotta touch me or nothin'."

Don't even have to touch him... you cast a cursory glance to his door, even though there's nobody home. Your lip is already bitten raw from stifling sounds all evening, but you're back to biting at it.

"Okay."

"Okay?" His eyes light up. He leans forward, a hand braced on your knee. "You sure?"

"Doesn't count if there's no penetration," you parrot the words he told you weeks ago. He smiles. "And... you said I don't have to do anything, right? Bit of watchin' can't hurt."

"Just lookin'," he affirms. For now, anyways.

His hand leaves your thigh to undo the buckle of his jeans, and your eyes follow the movement. There's a lump in your throat and you know you're going to be repenting for this one tonight. Maybe it's time to find some other church to confess at. Certainly not your father's, but you need to get this off your chest somewhere.

His jeans are pulled open, the tension easing off the bulge that seems to be straining there every time he gets his mouth on you. It doesn't take much for his cock to be freed, jeans and boxers down just enough to put him on display.

You swallow. You're definitely going to Hell.

You've seen pictures of them in passing. Dicks, cocks, penises. Whatever vile name the youth has come up with these days. The kind of pictures shared between a few girls at a sleepover, or a cock shown during a movie your father wouldn't approve of you watching. You've never been close enough to see one like this, though. Aching and leaking under the weight of your darkened eyes.

He takes note of your expression. The lust mixing with guilt.

"A little different in person, huh? No camera lenses?" He teases.

"Dodge, shut up. Just... just get on with it, please."

He rolls his eyes but obliges. Can't have you suddenly changing your mind because he gets a bit too cheeky. A firm hand wraps around him, and he begins to stroke himself. Slowly at first, watching the way your lips are parted and the breaths you take seem sharper. The quick rise and fall of your chest doesn't go unnoticed to him.

Feels real fuckin' good to be watched, though. Each jerk of his palm smears pre-cum down his throbbing length, the slick slide obscenely loud in the quiet of his bedroom. A low moan escapes him. Rough, completely unrestrained, so loud it almost makes you jump.

Your gaze snaps up to his face to watch the way his brow pinches with pleasure. You've never seen him like this—is this how you look when he's between your legs? The thought makes you flush. God. He's pretty like this, head tilted back and eyes half-lidded as he watches you absorb every second of his pleasure like it's your own. It's beautiful. It's wonderful. Breath-taking, staggering, perfect—

Sacrilege. Blasphemous. Impious.

You swallow thickly, but you can't take your eyes away.

"You, uh, sure you don't wanna get in on this?" He asks, his voice rough in a way you've never heard before. You find your thighs clenching again as you look back down to the filthy way he's started to fuck up into his fist.

"Dodge."

"What?" He asks innocently, a breathy note to his words. "I'll let you in, sweetheart. Just a little touch. Wouldn't have to do nothin'. Let me do all the heavy-liftin', eh?"

You shouldn't. You've done enough sinning for a lifetime over the last few weeks. Cried yourself to sleep a few times, too. And yet you go against every value that's been instilled with you for years to just touch.

A tentative little brush of your fingers against the underside. It's careful, hesitant and soft. His breath grows ragged. "That ain't so bad, is it?"

You shake your head. "And the... the white stuff. That's a good thing, right?"

"Real good," he laughs. He can feel himself tensing up; you aren't doing much to help, not physically, but with the pressure of his own hand and the way your eyes are on him... Lord, he won't be lasting much longer.

There's a pretty pink flush to his cheeks now. Eyelashes fluttering with each heavy breath, and the way his neck is exposed is giving you the strangest desire to lean in and kiss it. Bruise it, even. Your eyes avert guiltily, hand back in the safety of your lap.

"No, no, no. C'mon. Eyes on me."

"I can't, this is—"

"Please," he rasps. The hint of desperation catches you by surprise. "Want you to see it happen."

Heavenly father, please forgive me. Your eyes are on him again, watching the way his hips lift off the bed. It creaks with each movement, each glide of his hand down his cock. And that little flicker of scrupulosity in your eyes is what sends him over the edge.

"Fuck, yeah, I'm gonna— ah, ah, ah—" His cock pulses, white ropes coating his hand and the hem of his shirt. Face contorted in pleasure, eyes screwed shut as he makes a sound you've never heard from him before.

A whine.

You shuffle back a little—disgusted or intrigued by the sight of the cum spilling out of him, you aren't sure. But you're completely enraptured by the look on his face and the gasps that escape his parted lips. The only sound in the room for a few moments is his heavy breathing as he strokes lazily through the last of his orgasm, pleasure still buzzing faintly through him.

And when your eyes finally meet, you both laugh. Dodge's is hoarse. Yours is a little tentative. And then your sides are shaking and eyes twinkling. God, you can't believe that just happened.

"That's never happening again," you tell him. He grins, like he knows you're lying.

You are. You do it again. And again, until you're bold enough to be the one doing the stroking. It's only a matter of time before his little no penetration excuse goes out the window.

taglist: @gracelynnx @tacobacoyeet @blastzachilles @cha11engers @magicalmiserybore @newrochellechallenger2019 @coolgrl111 @artspats @peachyparkerr @stanart4clearskin @misswrldd @kaalxpsia @downtwngrl @s0ftcobra @strfallz @dazedandconfusedlvr @turnerrst @m4lodr4ma @artdonaldsonmalewife @challengersism @elsieblogs @artstennisracket

#jo asks ⋆˚࿔#jo writes ⋆˚࿔#rahhh need him #dodge mason #panic (2021)#dodge mason smut #dodge mason x reader #mike faist #art donaldson #art donaldson smut #art donaldson x reader

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artsangell · 9 months ago

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starlinggirll · 20 days ago

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two bad bitches at the SAME damn time !!

#dodge mason x reader #dodge mason #dodge #panic 2021 #i have a clear vision #mike faist x reader #mike faist #mike faist i need you #rhett abbott #rhett #abbott rhet #outer range #lewis pullman x you #lewis pullman x reader #lewis pullman #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x you #bonniesbluee ۶ৎ

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sunsburns · 11 months ago

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dodge mason snapping his belt. that’s all i have to say.

SMUT 17+ ; slight bondage; implied smut

i like to think it would be a way to tease you, where the sound of the snap is enough to have you excited, laying on your shared bed, leaning back on your elbows as you watch him standing by the edge of the bed.

he's putting on a show for you, from the moment he started to unbutton his top, leaving it half open for you to have a good look at his chest. then he went to unbuckle his belt, pulling them out with one swift movement and snapping them in front of you.

you can feel yourself smiling, from how he holds the belt with his teeth and starts pulling his shirt off, then pushing his pants down. his slow, taunting, movements while he keeps looking at you, his eyes never moving from yours.

then he starts to crawl onto the bed, smirking at you when you reach to take the leather belt from between his teeth with raised brows. "you gonna tie me up, cowboy?"

he chuckles, "might have to."

before he leans down to kiss you, he tries to take his hat off but you stop him. "keep it on for tonight. i think i'll be fun."

#i have to stop myself from going on #because i would #dodge’s cowboy hat #dodge mason smut #dodge mason fluff #dodge mason x reader #dodge mason #dodge mason angst #panic (2021)#panic x reader #panic show #panic tv show #panic #mike faist #mike faist x reader #x reader #challengers x reader #art donaldson #faye’s writing ⭑.ᐟ

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happenssweet · 2 months ago

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𐚁 son of a preacher man | dodge mason

➥ preacher's son dodge

𐚁 soft currents | dodge mason

➥ overstimulated by fireworks

𐚁 all your'n | dodge mason

➥ traveling on the rodeo circuit with him

𐚁 velvet elvis | dodge mason

➥ citygirl!user (req)

𐚁 honey | dodge mason

➥ individual challenge (req)

son of a preacher man - dusty springfield

soft currents - alexandria savior

all your’n - tyler childers

velvet elvis - kacey musgraves

honey - drugdealer/weyes blood

notes:

impromptu mini drop idk!!

cannot believe how long these reqs have been in the inbox...

sometimes i will write down a song title and then a short ass description and have no clue what my past self meant. "all your'n dodge x preacher's daughter" girl say more! now it's changing!

anyways. reqs here or in my inbox please enjoy

#happenssweet #happenssweet bots #happenssweet bot release #panic #dodge mason #panic bot #dodge mason bot #panic x reader #dodge mason x reader #c.ai #c.ai creator #character ai

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t1ts-4-donaldson · 6 months ago

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Dodge Mason teaching you how to ride a horse by riding him (NSFW)

The first time starts off with both your clothes on and he insists that this isn’t weird, you’re best friends and come on he’s seen you in more compromising positions giving examples about going to the local swimming pool (not noticing the way he’d stare while you adjust your bikini stepping out of the pool sopping wet his mouth watering as it stuck to your skin) or helping you get dressed for parties (‘accidentally’ letting the straps of your dress fall off your shoulders taking a peek down your bra before zipping it up)

you feel guilty and perverted thinking that he wants more when he’s just being sweet teaching you something he’s passionate about it’s not that deep.

but you can’t help but feel flustered by the way he grips your hips rutting up against your pussy, unable to keep your mewling at bay when you can feel his dick through his jeans knowing you’ll leave a stain with how wet you are.

“Come on you need to squeeze tighter so you won’t fall off” his hands wander down your thighs squeezing them closed against his hips trying hide his moan behind a cough

“Im trying-“ you argue back furrowing your eyebrows concentrating on his demands but whimper at one hard thrust up making the both of you zone out into a foggy state of euphoria grinding against each other like rabid animals, grasping each others clothing almost tearing it all at the seams.

Later ignoring how you both came at the same time shaking a top of him, nails biting into his skin as you grip his shoulders trying not to buckle under your orgasm biting back a groan as Dodge throws his head back against his pillow holding back curses as he thrusts the last of his high into your core pretending he’s fucked his load through your skirt the both of you completely breathless, flushed red and sweaty.

“You’re basically a professional.” He heaves shifting you off his lap adjusting his cock in his pants trying to ignore wetness left behind.

“Yeah.. you’re a good friend Dodge.” You mutter meekly stumbling out of his room.

#mike faist #dodge mason #panic 2021 #panic #dodge mason x reader #hannasmusings #panic x reader #dodge mason blurb

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jodoesnew · 6 months ago

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On the other end

A small dcaXy/n idea I had

Premis: Y/N works part time in the daycare but doesn't really interact with the dca which doesn't mean the dca didn't notice them there.

Start of the story

Y/N gets messages from an unknown number and decides to answer

They start messaging thinking that they don't know each other at all

They notice that the tone and wording in the messages switches completely throughout the day but get used to it way too fast

Y/N's life is a complete mess right now so Unknown is a pleasant distraction

They never tell each other their real names but use nicknames instead

Both share how they feel often and text about life and just anything that they think of

Someday y/n just calls their unknown friend to share some great news because they have no one else they want to share it with

They don't pick up but call back later

A male voice they have never heard answers. A pleasant one. They talk for hours.

But the voice tells them to only call at night bc he can't talk on the phone while working. But texting is fine

Y/N falls in love over late night phone calls and long text convos

They ask if they could meet up and hang out

He doesn't answer

The connection goes silent

The last thing he sent is "I'm so sorry. But I can't" written only a few minutes after their question (in the middle of the day)

Hours go by and they get no answer from him anymore

Hurt and worried Y/N is in a daze of crying and starring at nothing for the rest of the week

This is when Y/N misses their break bc they stayed in the daycare closet to cry

As they step out the daycare is dark sth that Y/N was never there to see

Then they hear it. The voice of the person they love singing from where the kids are sleeping.

Y/N stumbles through the dark until they reach the kids and lock eyes with the daycare attendant

Moon goes quiet and his eyes betray him and show his shock

Y/N is stunned

"It's you?"

Awkward

P2, P3

#fnaf dca #fnaf moon #fnaf sun #dca au #dca sun #dca moon #dca x reader #dca x y/n #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf dca au #my art #It would probably be fun to switch perspectives between the dca and yn and make the reader an accomplice in the catfishing >:3 #There is still the problem of world building but one could just use the pizza plex as the hub for all of yn's problems #I just think seeing sun and moon brainstorm what to answer to yn's messages hilarious #sun losing it and writing near paragraphs of text and moon only using emotes or short form answers #but then turns around and asks the most personal and thought provoking questions ever #And sun having a panic attack when the call happens standing like an idiot in the middle of the daycare #contemplating if he should just pick and run to their room

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katsukiizmoon · 2 months ago

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Asking Katsuki to make you a mommy and bearing witness to his life course changing instantaneously. His big pretty lashes bat rapidly and his lightly chapped lips aren't sure what expression to pull. The blond makes a near-pained noise all the while his brain buffers.

You think he might pass out, piss himself, or spontaneously combust at this rate. He hasn't taken a breath yet, firm chest frozen still under his old tank top.

"Y're serious?" He basically croaks, large hands flexing. His eyes dart to yours— ruby beauties hypnotize you with their vehemence.

You nod and watch him crumple into an almost too vulnerable state. Feet shuffling forward, you tentatively press a hand to his chest. His chest swells up as he finally, finally takes a real breath.

#i wanted to be a mommy so bad and lemme tell u #katuski ?? would kinda panic babe #happy mothers day #??#[ rambles ]#[ katsuki ]#bakugou x reader #bakugou #bakugou x you #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki x reader

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kxsagi · 2 months ago

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the absolute diabolical fear i have of leaking on my period on someone s sheets… like if it cane early or smth🥲 heh can i request sae, rin, isagi and shidou who like are maybe hanging out and period comes early and reader is on the bedsheets mortified not knowing whether to move and just dying from embarrassment and maybe they reassure her? thank you ^^

- 🩷

“𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐜”

a/n: i fear this is a universal experience

ft. itoshi sae, itoshi rin, isagi yoichi, shidou ryusei

itoshi sae

he’s the one you least want to notice it. like pls, not the guy who’s always effortlessly cool. but guess what? he notices.

not because you moved or said anything, because you didn’t.

“why are you sitting so still?” he says casually, stretching on the other side of the bed. “you weren’t this calm when we got here.”

when your voice cracks a bit like, “i-it’s nothing,” he instantly knows.

he sighs and gets up, rummaging through the closet. tosses you a hoodie. “tie it around your waist. there’s laundry downstairs. move before you leak on my phone charger.”

you blink at him in shock and embarrassment. he leans in close and whispers: “it’s just blood. i’ve bled more from a nose tackle. now come on.”

he’s so nonchalant about it that you actually start calming down.

itoshi rin

he’s sitting on the edge of the bed playing on his phone, and you’re sitting stiff as a board behind him like a cat that touched water.

you realize way too late that you bled through the sheets. instant panic.

unfortunately for your soul, rin turns around right then. and sees the look on your face. and the very obvious patch on the bed.

“… you okay?”

you nod too fast, eyes wide.

he puts his phone down slowly. “… you’re bleeding.”

w h a t d o y o u m e a n “y o u ’ r e b l e e d i n g”

but then he does something so rin.

he yanks the blanket off the bed, folds it, tosses it over your lap, and mutters, “you can use my hoodie. just go clean up. no one else saw.”

and then sits back down, pulls out his phone again, and refuses to make it weird.

later that night, he makes sure you get the side of the bed with extra pillows and painkillers, like he didn’t just save your pride and peace of mind.

isagi yoichi

this poor baby boy is the first to react. violently.

“oh my god, are you okay???”

which only makes it worse because now he’s really looking.

you’re like “i-it’s fine! i’m fine!” while actively trying to become one with the bed.

but once he gets it, the switch flips.

“oh… OH. okay, okay, don’t move! i got it!”

he’s running around like a man on a mission. gets you a towel and finds your bag.

once you’re cleaned up, he sits next to you with a cup of tea like “it’s a normal thing. like, statistically, someone in the room is probably gonna have a period. and that someone is you. and that’s okay.”

you’re still mortified but he’s blushing harder than you now, sooo you win.

shidou ryusei

chaos.

he walks into the room with a snack in hand and stops dead in his tracks when he sees your panicked face and the suspicious red spot on the sheets.

“whoa. did you get stabbed? that’s metal.”

you groan and cover your face with a pillow.

“shut up.”

“nah, it’s cool. i’ve had worse blood on my jersey. here.” he tosses you his oversized t-shirt. “use that. and don’t freak out, it’s just your demon womb tryin’ to kill you or whatever.”

he yells out the door, “YO ANYONE GOT CHOCOLATE? SHE’S DYING IN HERE!”

cue isagi yelling back, “STOP MAKING IT WORSE, SHIDOU!”

but honestly? he’s kinda sweet about it. he changes the sheets himself (kinda aggressively), plops down next to you after, and says, “next time bring a whole suitcase of pads. we’re not doin’ this ambush crap again.”

he’s chaotic but oddly supportive. also steals your heating pad later and doesn’t even apologize.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock headcanons #itoshi sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #yoichi isagi x reader #shidou ryusei x reader #ryusei shidou x reader #period panic

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