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brossession-collection · 9 months

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Dad's Pits (Male Possession)

"Charlie! Get your fucking ass down here!"

Charlie's eyes shot open as he heard the muffled yells of his dad's piercing through his bedroom door. He flinched, pulling his hands out of his musky briefs and hitting his head on the bedframe.

"Fuck that hurt."

Charlie is a 23 year old washed out jock who just barely graduated from college. Exhausted from the years of studying and the lack of any job leads, he came back home tired and defeated. It didn't help that he was a kinky fucker, masturbating his days away to the smell of his ripe sweaty pits.

In fact, Charlie's main reason for playing club lacrosse in college was so that he could rummage through the open lockers and dirty laundry hampers, claiming any soiled jerseys to take a dirty sniff. He got caught once, with the strength coach's yellowed jockstrap over his face.

Dude got put on probation and his single dad found out immediately.

Charlie's dad, Jeff, although stern and strict, is a pretty loving dad through and through. He's a construction manager at one of the biggest firms in the city, leading huge projects and coming home day after day fatigued, pissy, and, most importantly, musky.

And today wasn't any different.

"You hear me!? You better not be whacking your d*ck!"

Charlie groaned as he got up, not bothering to slip anything on. He opened the door and yelled back, slightly embarrassed.

"I'm not dad! What do you need!?"

"How about you get your ass down here like I said and get some dinner on the table. Least you can do to help out around here"

Charlie tucked his boner into his briefs, put on some shorts and a loose tank top jersey, and trotted down the stairs regrettably. He made eye contact with Jeff, who was taking off his plaid button down, leaving behind a tight white tank top and belted wrangler jeans.

"There you are" Jeff said more softly than just a second ago. "Listen Charlie I don't wanna be yelling at ya. You're a grown ass adult and you're still living here. Could be proactive and help out around here more."

Charlie rubbed his eyes, yawned, then nodded, his bushy pits wafting out a dry musk that made his dad wince.

"Jesus christ boy. Go take a fucking shower. Don't know how you can handle yourself smelling like that. I can barely deal with my own stink right after work."

Charlie muttered a "well I can" under his breath as he rummaged through the fridge. He glanced at his dad who seemed to not notice.

"Speaking of, I'm gonna take a shower. Gotta get this fucking stench off me. Have dinner on the table when I get back alright?"

"Yeah yeah yeah. Will do daddio."

Charlie looked back as his dad jogged up the stairs, his tatted built arms swinging side to side with every step. While Charlie had more of an athletic lanky build, Jeff was a bit more bulky, carrying a muscular dad bod. They were the same height, and had similar characteristics, but his dad looked more mature with his bushy beard and uncontrollable chest hair. Charlie was jealous of those features. "I could be waaay more musky if I had dad's hairiness" he constantly thought.

Charlie felt an air of dizziness as he dropped some produce on the kitchen counter. He tried to steady himself, but for some reason couldn't keep his heavy eyelids open. "Shit... Must be the blue balls..." he slurred as he drunkenly stumbled to the dinner table. He slumped onto a chair and zonked out.

...

When Charlie came to, he felt strange. More airy, like he was floating. He felt cold, but for some reason couldn't feel his skin when he tried to grab it. He yelled when he looked down.

"The fuck is happening?"

"Why's my skin all green?"

Charlie poked and prodded at his translucent abs, which responded with a gooey jello-ey jiggle. "No fucking way man what the hell is this shit!?" he yelled.

Suddenly musky green gas started to emit from his armpits and ass, as if he was a walking stink cloud. Charlie curiously raised one of his arms up to take a sniff, only to smell one of the most rancid, ripe, and gloriously delicious stenches he's ever inhaled.

"Wheeeeewwww. Fuck... I smell so fucking BAD! I mean... GOOD". Charlie couldn't stop whiffing his own pits, hypnotized by the incredible musk that his ghostly form was now exuding.

Charlie looked around. He could see musky stink lines coming from objects all over the house, as if he had stink-o-vision. He strutted over to his dad's hung-up button down, which was apparently excessively musky.

"Damn... smells so goooood" he moaned as he brought his nose and hand up to the fabric. Suddenly, his fingers, then hand, then forearms got sucked into the fabric. With every finger twitch he tried to do, he watched as the shirt jostled around, as if he had partial control over it.

Charlie was chuckling, experimenting with his new powers for atleast 2 minutes straight before he heard a familiar voice call from up stairs.

"I'll be out in 15!" his dad yelled. Charlie heard the shower turn as his dad stomped around on the floor above, waiting for the water to heat up.

Charlie, looking down at his green ghostly body, grinned and thought of something mischievous to try. He got up and started tip-toeing up the stairs, the green stench still floating off his body.

He opened his dad's bedroom door and saw him turned around, taking off his socks. Jeff only cocked his head back, not yet noticing the new form his son had taken.

"You need something bud?" he said, before turning his head further and seeing the green apparition that his Charlie had become.

"Wh-what the hell? Y-you okay son?" Jeff's mouth was agape, unsure of how to react. He felt his nose crinkle as a more intense version of Charlie's ripe musk wafted into his nostrils unwelcomed.

"Don't know what happened daddio. Dozed off and woke up like this."

"Ch-Charlie! The fuck happened!? Go take a fucking shower son this ain't normal!"

Charlie flinched at that idea. "Why dad? I smell fucking great. And you do too..." He noticed the green stink lines emanating from his dad's pits, feet and below his waistband.

"The fuck are you talking about Charlie?" Jeff said, taking a step back as his jock son inched forward.

"Mind if I try something dad?" In a split second, Charlie pounced at Jeff, completely covering him in his green gas and slimey body.

Jeff struggled to breathe as he felt his nose and mouth getting caked in his son's ripe musk, forcibly pushing itself down his throat and up his nostrils. He lifted his arms up beyond his control as Charlie's gaseous slimey form started to ooze into his armpits.

Charlie could only laugh as he felt his ghostly body enter and take control of his dad through every single entrance he could find. Jeff didn't even notice his son slipping down his pants and pumping into his c*ck and sweaty asshole.

"CH-CHAR-guhhh" Jeff managed to moan out as the ectoplasmic form of his son's head gurgled down into his throat. At this point, Jeff could only see green in his vision.

"Gonna have so much fun stinking up your body dad!" Charlie yelled from inside Jeff's head.

The father and son, now sharing a body, stumbled to the ground, wet and slimey. Jeff let out a moan as he felt the last of the goo sink into his dirty asshole with a "POP". The man slumped over for a second before...

...

Jeff opened his eyes and cracked his neck with a smirk. He lifted up his arm and took a deep whiff of his day-old pit scent, unnatural green gas wafting out and musking the entire room.

"Mmmmmm smells even better with his nose" he cooed. He scratches at his pits then took a curious sniff before letting out an uncharacteristic moan of pleasure. "Fuck yeah that's the stuff."

Jeff got up and stuck a hand into his wranglers, rummaging around his fabric-covered balls and taint before rubbing the same hand all over his beard.

"Shiiit daaaad. You smell better than me!" Charlie chuckled with his dad's voice.

He walked up to the shower in his dad's en suite bathroom, reaching inside and turning off the water.

Once again, Charlie lifted up his dad's beefy arms and spoke:

Fin

#possession #hairy #jock #male body swap #bear #ghost #male possession #dad #stinky

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buryustogether · 2 years

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-> THE EROS CLUB

jackie welles x f!reader (v)

summary: you and jackie receive a job to infiltrate a popular new club and retrieve a sample of a drug making its rounds through customers. unfortunately, it takes being dosed to realize the drug is an aphrodisiac.

word count: 6.7k

warnings/tags: swearing, drinking alcohol, drugs, being drugged unknowingly, explicit sex, rough sex, p in v, dirty talk, praise, semi-public sex/bathroom sex, dom!jackie, dom/sub dynamics, aftercare, confessions, slight throat/neck kink if you squint, jackie and misty are NOT a couple

author’s note: shout out to @neon-junkie for making me a jackie welles whore

You felt the thrum of the club’s bass before you even saw the front doors. It shook the ground in rhythmic beats, some kind of strange, unnatural earthquake, and seemed to pull anyone within a mile radius toward its center. Everywhere you looked, civilians were headed toward the entrance. Skimpy skirts, sleeveless muscle tanks, even pressed business suits - they all gravitated toward the Eros Club like droning, mindless machines.

As you cruised slowly down the street, your hand rested atop the steering wheel of your ride, Jackie released a low whistle from his perch in the passenger’s seat. He was so sinewy and bulked that he hardly fit in it. “Some place,” he said when you parked your car on the curb between a number of other vehicles. “No wonder every other club in town’s tanked to shit. Everyone’s comin’ here.”

You gave a hum and peered up the club through the window. The Eros Club was a three-story decker situated on a corner close to the water, with neon lights that cast the streets surrounding it in an eerie, yet exciting glow. A long, twisting line of people waited for entrance, kissing and grinding and complaining on their cells. Armed guards stood at the doors, standing rather close to a small woman personally checking each visitor before they went through.

“It won’t be standing for much longer,” you said, then climbed from the car.

This job was supposed to be simple. Simpler than most you and Jackie had done. Your client was a faceless shroud who spoke to you over the net, promising big bucks for the infiltration of the Eros Club. They claimed to be a rival club owner who was losing business; they’d heard from a friend of a friend of an enemy Eros was illegally drugging patrons until they were hooked and coming back every night for more. Your job was to secure a dose of whatever substance was being used and give it to your client’s men at the drop point.

Jackie hadn’t liked it at first. He was adamant about seeing the client face to face before agreeing to nabbing the drug, but he hadn’t needed much more convincing when you told him the amount promised.

“Sounds too easy,” he’d said when you informed him of your client’s approach. “Then again…” He’d flashed you that signature smile and you hadn’t been able to help but give it back. “We could use a night out on the town.”

As you left your vehicle and approached the club, weaving between sweaty bodies and over broken bottles scattered along the ground, you spared a glance over at your partner. Jackie Welles was a unit of a man, built like an ox and suited to take one down. Not only was he one of the best-looking men you’d ever met, he was also the kindest. In the same day, he would toss live grenades into gang dens, then untangle a stray cat from the plastic wrapping caught around its paws. He was funny, and caring, and above all else, loyal. No matter the situation, you knew you could count on Jackie to have your back.

And a part of you hated it.

You hated how close you had grown to the mercenary over the number of months you’d been working together, how you knew his middle name and his birthday and his mother’s favorite flowers. You hated that every time you shared a drink at After Life your knees would brush together and the simple touch would strike a match in your veins. And you hated yourself for, not once or twice, but almost every time you relieved some of your pent-up sexual tension by yourself, you imagined it was him hovering between your legs making you feel so deliciously.

“Aye. You with me, chica?”

Blinking away the dirty thoughts swimming through your head, you glanced up at Jackie. You had almost made it to the front doors - much to the chagrin and disdain of the people who had been waiting in line for hours. “Come again?” you said.

Jackie jerked his head toward the doors. “I said, you got the passes?” He watched as you fished through your pockets before producing the VIP passes your client had provided you with in order to get into Eros without much hassle. “Somethin’ on your mind?” he said as he accepted his pass. “Your head’s usually more in the game than this, V.”

Slipping the pass around your neck, you swallowed thick and avoided his gaze. “Sorry,” you said, and left it at that. He tilted his head at you in that way he did when he knew you were lying, but he didn’t push it. If anyone knew how to coax something out of you, it was him.

And you were terrified he would get this out of you, too.

The guards blocking the front doors looked you and Jackie up and down as you approached, arms crossed tight or hefting a baseball bat over a shoulder. “What business you got?” asked one.

In sync, you and Jackie both raised your VIP passes from around your necks. It only took a few moments of inspection for them to step aside so that you could face the small woman sitting on a stool. Up close, you were able to see she wore plastic gloves over her thin hands and beside her on a cart lay caps of what looked like ink. She beckoned you forward.

“Listen up, and listen well,” she said as she prepared a fresh cap from her tray. “No touching the dancers unless you want to walk home without one of your arms. No going behind the bar; if you want something - or someone - ask one of the bouncers inside and they’ll get it for you. No contraband allowed inside.” She motioned. “That means pieces. Unload it all.”

Jackie grumbled beneath his breath as he grudgingly unholstered his firearms and the machete strapped across his back before placing them in the trunk at one of the guards’ feet. You followed suit, dumping your belongings beside his. “Be good, carinos,” he murmured to his iron before the lid was snapped shut.

“One last thing,” drawled the woman before snapping a bubble of gum in her mouth. “Tongues out.”

Your breath caught in your throat, something between a scoff and a laugh. “What?”

She wiggled her ink-coated thumb. “If you want in,” she said as if she were talking to a child throwing a tantrum, “tongues out. Helps us know who actually heard the rules and who snuck in through the side door.” She tilted her head in exasperation. “It’s just a bit of edible ink. It’ll wash off in a few hours.”

Despite how appalled you were at the idea of having this random chick’s thumb on your tongue, it was the thought of more eddies in your account that made you open your mouth and lay your tongue flat. You clenched your fist as she pressed her thumb against your tongue, fighting off the urge to gag. When she was done, you wiped your lip and watched as Jackie stuck out his tongue to get his own print.

You were unable to help the pang of hot, searing jealousy that shot through you when he gagged slightly and she winked at him.

“Get that reflex under control, baby,” she teased as she pulled her arm back and discarded the glove. “Who knows when it’ll ruin a good time.”

“Are we done here?” you blurted. “No offense, but we didn’t come to get tongue tats and swap dick sizes.”

She was obviously bored of you. With a flick of her head, the guards opened the doors, and you both strode through quicker than necessary. Jackie’s limp - put there after he broke his leg as a boy and it never healed properly - slowed him slightly, but you’d become accustomed to matching your pace with his. Your frame silhouetted beside his bulk and muscle, the doors sealed shut behind you, a crypt trapping unfortunate souls within.

Jackie ran his freshly-inked tongue over his teeth, his features illuminated by the neon pink glow from the lights overhead. “Tastes like licorice,” he commented, then screwed up his face. “The bad kind.”

You murmured a low hum of agreement as you walked toward another set of doors that led into the main wing of the club. “The kind that’s been sitting in the sun for a week.”

“Heh.” He smiled, and you kept your focus straight ahead, trying to squash the butterflies fluttering in your belly. “And you know what that tastes like?”

“Please,” you said and placed a hand on the door. “I grew up in the streets, Jackie. I ate anything I could come across.”

You heaved open the door, and at once you were both enveloped in a hurricane of noise and light and skin. A gargantuan disco ball threw off flashes of neon lights across the club floor, bathing dancers and strippers and drunks in a dream-like hue. Booths were filled to the edges, every stool at the bar taken. Overhead, balconies overlooked poles and flashy cages that hung from the ceiling; inside, men and women wearing less than an inch of clothing humped the bars and whistled down at patrons. And if the customers weren’t ogling up at them, they were grinning stupidly at the glittery joytoys serving their drinks.

You were forced to stop for a moment to take it all in. You’d never seen anything like this. Sure, you’d been raised by a multitude of people in your childhood; madams of whore houses and gang leaders and club bouncers… suffice to say you’d seen a lot of clubs and dollhouses, but never something as grand as this. Jackie was right; no wonder all the other clubs in town were going under.

“Some place,” he said loud enough to be heard over the music.

Pulling yourself from the dazzling painting before you, you blinked a few times to clear your head and pursed your lips. “You know the drill,” you told him. “Don’t get distracted, okay? We’re here for a sample of the drug, and that’s it. Text if you find it, and we’ll meet back here.”

Jackie snorted through his nose as the bass dropped in the music and the floor rattled beneath your feet. “Me, distracted?” he mused and placed a hand on his chest. “You should practice what you preach, chica. You’re the one with your head in the clouds today. Although…” He cast a meaningful glance upward and winked at one of the young women in the dangling cages. You frowned. “Doesn’t seem like a bad place to be these days.”

Refraining from rolling your eyes, you huffed and left him near the doors of the club. You felt your boiling blood begin to cool to a simmer as you wriggled your way through the throng of parties and started for the bar.

Christ, you really needed to get this little crush done and over with. You’d known Jackie long enough to know what he liked; and it wasn’t what you were. He would never reciprocate your feelings; and even if he did, it would hardly be professional. The two of you were partners. So what if sometimes you crashed at each other’s places? So what if he sang you your favorite songs in the car when they came over the radio? So what if, when you’d once caught a bullet to the side, he’d crouched before you to stitch it up himself on your bathroom floor, needle held between his teeth and giant palm firm against your sternum to keep you still and breath on your stomach and -

“What’s shakin’, honey?”

You were yanked from your memories by the voice of the joy toy bartender behind the counter, staring at you with a flirty smirk painted across her lips. She polished a glass with nails that glowed neon here in the dim light.

“Sorry.” You took a seat at the bar - the first seat to have opened in a while - and rested your arms on the counter. It raised goosebumps along your skin. “I’m new here. What’s the most popular thing people get?”

“Why go with the flow, baby?” She grinned before she began to conjure up a drink, mixing liquors from bottles at her knees and pipettes from a sink behind her. “There ain’t another one like you, so don’t go and try to make a no one of yourself. Be true to who you are and what you want. ‘Ya hear me?” In a matter of seconds, she’d placed a shot glass in front of you; the drink within looked like liquid moonlight. How poetic. “Since you’re new, this one’s on me. Just be sure to come back, darlin’, yeah?” She winked, then crossed the bar to attend to her other guests.

Her words rattled through your head as you picked up the glass and swirled it a bit. You knew who you were; you were fucking V of fucking Heywood, for god’s sake. And yet… what did you want?

You scoffed, then glanced back and let your systems take a moment to analyze the contents of the drink in front of you, searching for any foreign substances. You knew what you wanted. But that just couldn’t happen. You were being stupid, crushing on your partner. Your friend - your best fucking choom. You spared a glance over your shoulder, at once spotting Jackie’s hulking frame where he sat at a wraparound couch with a trio of joytoys giggling and batting their eyelashes and touching his thighs. You grit your teeth and whipped back around.

Yeah - you were fucked.

A green alert from your systems told you the drink in your hand was perfectly safe. Nothing foreign or suspicious. Quirking your brow, you brought the shot glass to your lips and tipped it back. You weren’t going to turn down a free drink.

Nothing behind the bar - time to move on. You waved to the bartender in thanks, then got up and offered your seat to the next person waiting for a drink. Forcing yourself to keep from looking at Jackie and his new little entourage, you continued to scour the Eros Club for the drug.

Half an hour, then an hour ticked past you, and you still came up with zilch. None of the dealers - some of whom you’d grown up with on the streets of the city - had anything to present. Nothing in the food. Even a scan of the joytoys showed nothing to raise your alarm. You were empty-handed.

But not quite empty.

As you continued your search, you became aware of a warm, blossoming sensation making its presence known in the pit of your belly. It was heavy and light all at once, swirling like caged serpents aching to be released. It wasn’t long until you felt that familiar pang of need in your core, in between your thighs, did you realize what it was. You were turned on.

You tried to dismiss it as your hormones out of whack - whose wouldn’t be, surrounded by practically naked strippers and the smell of sex lingering in the air? - but as the minutes went on, you were unable to just pass it off. The tugging and demanding was becoming more urgent, and you felt your panties slowly soaking. Fuck.

Inhaling deep through your nose, you stopped for a moment to lean up against a steel pillar and clutch at your stomach. The ache was painful now, and sweat was beading at your hairline. What the fuck was this? Your mouth was producing saliva in overdrive, begging you to swallow, and you felt more empty than you ever had in your life. Your pussy was clenching around nothing, your nerves jumping with tingling sensation.

You lifted your head, feeling almost sick with desire, and your eyes locked onto a young couple leaning against the far wall. They were both a little more than red in the face; she was shaking out her top to let her chest breathe, and he was awkwardly crossing his legs in an attempt to hide his hard on. They murmured in one another’s ears for a moment, touched their tongues, then grappled hands and rushed out a side door.

Your lips parted as your mind finally connected the dots. There was no addictive drug here in the Eros Club; it was outside. The ink that woman had stamped onto your tongues; the drug was in that. You had been fucked before you even stepped inside. Of course people were trampling each other to come back here. The Eros Club was handing out aphrodisiacs at the door. Who wouldn’t want to fuck until they felt better?

You didn’t even have the chance to pull up your texts on your vision screen to warn Jackie. A wave of need ripped through you like a bullet, and you clapped a hand over your mouth to muffle the moan that escaped your lips. Oh, Christ. Pushing yourself off the pillar, you found yourself stumbling through the club toward the restrooms in the corner. Your breath was coming out in heavy pants as you squeezed through sweaty bodies, every moment of contact with another person sending vibrations of desire through your veins.

It seemed an eternity and a half before you reached the restrooms; by whatever grace was left in the world, there was no one else inside. You rushed to lock the door behind you, then tipped over the sinks and brought handfuls of cold water to your face. It dripped from your nose and your chin, your lips, as you panted and gripped the sides of the sink. Unconsciously, you ground your covered crotch against the hard edge of the counter.

There was no way you’d be able to make it out of here before you all but collapsed of horniness - forget about even getting back to your apartment. You needed to take care of things here and now.

Just as you were about to push into a stall and practically rip your pants down your legs to bury your fingers in your cunt, an alert popped into your vision screen. It was from Jackie. Just thinking of his name pulled a hoarse moan from your throat, one that echoed through the bathroom. You opened the message.

That was it. Only your name. No period, nothing special. Then -

Open the door

Now

Now chica

Your stomach clenched and your core ached as you realized how he knew exactly where you were; you each had private-channel trackers installed in your hard drives. Viktor had suggested it after a job gone wrong when Jackie had been dragged half a block to get the shit beaten out of him while you were searching the streets a neighborhood away.

Fuck these fucking trackers.

There was no way you could even look at Jackie while you were in this state. You knew the moment you laid eyes on him, you’d jump his bones. And while the thought sent shivers of desire running down your spine, you knew you could never live with yourself if you did. Of course Jackie would never feel the same way you felt about him; he was your friend. Your friend who had held your hair back while you thew up in an alleyway, your friend who had dragged your drunk and sorry ass home too many nights to remember. Your best friend, who had seen you in too many states of ugly and repulsive to ever want you the way you wanted him.

You ground yourself against the counter once more, letting a shaky moan be pulled from your throat. It reverberated throughout the bathroom, echoing back to your own ears like a jagged symphony.

You jumped when something banged against the restroom door. At the same moment, a flood of texts from Jackie swarmed your vision screen.

Answer me

Open the door

Now

NOW

CHICA

OPEN THE DOOR

DAMN IT V

FUCK

The banging on the door grew more and more desperate, more frantic, and you realized Jackie was trying to ram his shoulder into the metal. You gasped for breath, clutching onto the counter, your face still wet from splashing water on yourself.

He was going to break the door - or his shoulder.

Swallowing thick and trying to drown out your thunderous heartbeat by focusing on the pulsing music, you gingerly pushed off the counter and approached the door. Your legs shook and your cunt clenched, desperate to be filled. Fuck, it hurt. It hurt like nothing you’d ever felt before - it was a kind of sensation you had never even imagined existed.

As you reached out to flip the lock on the door, you briefly wondered if Jackie was under the influence of the drug as well. Surely he wasn’t nearly as down bad as you were right now; he was at least three times your body mass. That dose he’d been given couldn’t have possibly done the same number on him as it did you; he was far too bulked and beefed up for that.

Biting your tongue to keep from immediately launching yourself at him, you unlocked the door to the restroom and opened it.

Your breath hitched at the sight that awaited you on the other side.

Jackie filled the doorway like a persistent shadow, sweat beading at his brow and his lips parted as his chest rose and caved with labored breath. His shoulders were tensed, his jaw set and his fists clenched at his sides. He peered at you from beneath his lashes, and for the smallest, quickest fraction of a second, you were slightly afraid of him.

“Jackie,” you said, but his name came out in more of a whimper.

His eyes flashed and he stepped inside the restroom, hand blindly flipping the door shut behind him. He locked it with a click, his gaze never once leaving you.

You found yourself taking small steps back, your heart fluttering and your hormones screaming at you to drop to your knees and tug at his belt. But your brain was firing in a different direction, speeding into overdrive as your partner began to approach you, footsteps hitting heavy against the tile floor. Was he mad at you? Furious that you had screwed up this job so far, enraged that while he was out there looking for the prize, you were in here getting off on counter counters?

Or was he feeling the same effects you were?

It wasn’t until your back hit the opposite wall of the sinks did you realize Jackie had backed you into a corner. His eyes stared you down from beneath his brow, the cross earring swinging from his lobe with every crooked step he took. You pressed yourself against the chilly wall, palms pressed flat on the metal.

“Jackie,” you whispered.

He stopped only inches from your form, his arms encasing you on either side. When you inhaled, you caught a lungful of his cologne that singed your nose in just the right way. Your knees wobbled and you clenched your jaw to keep from moaning right there and then. Your core ached to be filled by the man in front of you, and your fingers twitched at your sides.

Jackie brought one of his hands to touch your neck, the soft expanse of skin just below your jaw, and this time you did finally whimper to him. A high-pitched whine escaped your throat as his tattooed fingers trailed across your delicate throat, which he could have so easily crushed at a moment’s notice. He cocked his head at the noise, earring swinging back and forth like a pendulum.

“I got’ta be crazy for this,” he murmured, perhaps to himself, as his fingers trailed down, past your shirt collar to your collarbone.

You released a garbled moan again, forcing yourself to keep up on your own two feet. “No,” you forced out. His eyes flickered to meet yours from where they had been lingering on your neck. “I feel it too.”

“Yeah?” His eyes became half-lidded, and when he leaned forward, you swallowed thick. “You feel it when I do this?” Slowly, tantalizingly, teasingly, he dragged his lips down the column of your throat - and then clamped his lips down when you moaned aloud. It echoed across the restroom like a call to action, like the blank starting off the race.

Everything exploded from then on.

Jackie brushed teeth along your neck as he sucked bruises and hickies into your skin, tongue laving over the raw spots. To spur him on, to bring him closer, your hands flew up to grasp at the back of his head. Your skin burst into tingles and miniature detonations where he touched you and you touched him, and it was almost too much to handle.

“Fuck, Jackie,” you whimpered out into the hot air.

Jackie had moved his ministrations down to the hollow of your throat, right between your collarbones, and he licked his tongue over a fresh bruise before tilting his head up to rest his forehead against yours. You longed to lean forward and kiss him, to kiss him until he couldn’t breathe, but you could only stare back at him as his gaze bore into yours.

“Jesucristo,” he huffed, his breath fanning hot across your face. You core ached and your pussy clenched, and now that you were so close you could sense the stiff, prominent erection tenting his pants. “You think we got a dose’a that shit?”

“I don’t care,” you panted, then grabbed his lapels to pull him even closer. “Dammit, Jackie, please fuck me.” Your brow furrowed, and your eyes screwed shut because if he suddenly came to, if he suddenly realized he was just on a drug and didn’t really want this, you didn’t want to see it. “I’ve wanted you for so fucking long, at this point I don’t care if it’s the drug. I need you so bad. I’ve needed you since you shoved your piece in my face in that garage, and I’ve needed you every fucking day since. Please - please, Jackie, fuck me.”

You stared at the darkness behind your eyelids, waiting for him to pull away. Waiting for him to tell you he was sorry, it was just the drug talking, that he needed to go. But he never did. Instead, you felt him take your chin between his thumb and his finger to tilt your head up. He pressed his forehead to yours again, then leaned his head until his lips brushed the shell of your ear.

“Open those eyes, chica,” he murmured. “I want you to watch me while I fuck you senseless.”

Not even a moment after you opened your eyes, your heart in your throat, Jackie attached his lips to yours as if he were going to die if he didn’t. He attacked your mouth with his own feverishly, almost violently - and you you wouldn’t have it any other way. Teeth clashing and tongues laving and moans rising from your throats, you barely registered it as he moved his hands over your sides. They traveled over your hips, squeezing the flesh of your ass, before grabbing your thighs just below.

“Jump.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. Keeping your lips locked to his, your arms wrapped around his neck as you hopped into his grasp and locked your legs around his waist. You didn’t need to hesitate; you knew, you trusted, that he wouldn’t let you fall. He’d always been there for you, and he wasn’t about to stop now.

Jackie carried you to the countertop, where he set you down on the edge and came to settle between your spread thighs. He pushed them a bit further apart as if testing you, teasing you, seeing just how far you could go without snapping. You whimpered against his lips, tugging at his jacket.

“Hips up, chica bonita,” he said, and you at once obeyed. You lifted your hips as he took ahold of your waistband, trousers and panties together, and ripped them down your thighs. Almost as if the smell of your throbbing sex, almost as if he could actually smell it, he released a groan and bucked his hips forward to grind against your cunt. Your moans joined his and your nails dug into the leather of his jacket.

“Christ, Jackie!” you practically howled.

With one hand, he began to unbuckle his belt - your starving eyes following his every move - and the other flexed two fingers up the dampness of your slit. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as a tidal wave of pleasure washed over you; if you weren’t bracing yourself against the counter behind you, you would have crumbled. An intensity like you’d never known before was taking over your systems, flooding your drives. The drug was amping itself up now that what you needed was finally within reach.

Jackie cocked his head again as he ran his fingers up and down your entrance, at last working his belt loose and shoving his pants down his thighs. His erection sprang from the confines of his boxers, and your mouth watered just looking at it. His member was just like the rest of him; big, and thick, and wide. It slapped against your thigh as he surged forward to slam his lips against yours again; it was almost painfully hard. If you thought the effects of the drug hurt you, you couldn’t begin to imagine how he was feeling.

“So wet for me already, mamita,” he drawled under his breath. He drew his hand from your core and you nearly whined before he brought his fingers to his lips and sucked your slick from his digits - all while maintaining eye contact with you. Then he brought his thumb, thick and calloused from years of manual labor, and brought it to your lips. You understood at once. Grabbing onto his wrist, you took his thumb into your mouth and gently sucked on it, swirling your tongue around the tip. He released a shaky sigh, then withdrew his digit and placed it over your clit. The moment he began to rub quick, harsh circles over it, you cried out - and yet they were swallowed up as he connected his lips to yours.

“Good girl,” he moaned, rutting his hips against your thigh. “Good fuckin’ girl, V.”

You keened at his praise, spreading your legs further for him as he took his thick cock in hand and began to line himself up with your entrance. Outside the bathroom door, the music pumped and people were shouting with glee and lust, but you could hear none of it. You were transfixed on the man before you, the man that was peering down at you like you were his entire world.

“Fuck me, Jackie,” you told him in a strained voice. “Fuck me like you want it.”

“You better believe I do, chica,” he rumbled. “Always have.” Without another word, he pushed himself into your sopping pussy in one fluid movement. You opened your mouth to moan, but nothing came out. You were far too stunned, far too high on cloud nine to even think about coming down. Jackie’s cock stretched you in the most delicious way, practically spearing you open as his hips lay flush against yours. He tilted his head back to the ceiling and groaned low from deep in his throat, a noise that had you clenching around him.

That seemed to set him back into motion. His large hands wrapped around your middle, just above your hips, and used that as leverage to begin pistoning his cock in and out of your pussy. Your back arched and your mouth fell open as he pounded into you mercilessly, chasing not just your relief but his as well. The drug was still coursing through the both of you, driving your bodies to the extremes to get what they needed.

His name spilled from your lips, slowly at first, then quickly, like a mantra or a desperate prayer. His member was dragging across your walls in the most perfect way, letting you feel every ridge and vein and velvety inch. He would pull out almost entirely, then slam back into you again, his grip on your abdomen the only thing keeping you from inching up the counter.

“Jackie!” you wailed up to the ceiling. “Jackie! Fuck, Jackie!”

“That’s it, mamita,” he panted, dragging you further down the counter toward him. “Scream my name for them all to hear.” He slowed his pace, only slightly, so that he could lean over you and gaze down at you with half-lidded eyes. “I want them to know who you belong to.” He straightened, then slammed into you with a particularly harsh thrust that brushed against that sweet, heavenly spot inside of you. Your hands scrabbled for purchase on the counter, your legs wrapped tight around his waist.

“Right there!” you screamed, gripping onto his inked forearms. “Don’t stop! Please, don’t stop.”

“Tell me who you belong to, princesa.” He slowed his pace even further, instead opting to rail into you with deep, hard-hitting thrusts that left you seeing stars. “Tell me.”

You panted for breath, your cunt squeezing around him, begging for your nearing release. “You,” you breathed out, then yelped when he slammed into you. Your back slid slightly up the counter. “You!” you bayed, your throat beginning to go raw from the howling and begging. “Only you! Just you, baby, only you.”

Another thrust, one that forced black spots into your vision. The pleasure was right there, just on the brink, teetering on the edge.

“Tell them.” When you hesitated, Jackie leaned down and licked a short stripe up your throat. “Tell them who you belong to.”

Who were you to disobey? “Jackie!” you cried out, and you were faintly aware of the tears beginning to spill down your cheeks, born from the raw, unbridled pleasure and the pain of being kept from it. “Jackie Welles! Jackie - FUCK!”

“Cum for me, V.”

Spreading your thighs even further apart, he slammed into your cunt, bringing his thumb down to stroke at your clit all at once. It took only a number of thrusts until suddenly you were cumming. It was an almost violent, explosive, drowning-kind of orgasm that left you gasping for air you couldn’t draw in. You were blinded by the spots dancing in your vision, your limbs leaden and your lungs aching for air. You were above cloud nine; you were in heaven.

Above you, Jackie’s hips were beginning to stutter and falter in their rhythm. He yanked you down the counter again, slamming his hips into yours in a frantic sprint to his own finish. You watched him as he used you, unable to move or even speak as he groaned and grunted and railed into you one last time before he spilled into your pussy. A staggered moan was pulled from his lips as he emptied himself, his earring swinging as he slumped over you on the counter.

For a long, long while, you were both simply silent, still connected, sharing each other’s air as you regained your breath. Finally, Jackie stood straight again and slowly pulled his softening cock from your cunt. You winced as he fell from you, everything from your waist down practically numb. Your entrance, your clit, your thighs - sore, and red, and spent.

You said nothing, suddenly exhausted out of your mind and unable to do anything much, as Jackie grimaced tucking himself back into his pants, buckled his belt, then grabbed a few towels and wet them in the sink. He shushed your whimpers of overstimulation as he gently cleaned you up, keeping you quiet and still when he helped pull your pants back up and your shirt back down from where it had bunched up around your middle. Then he gingerly pulled you off the counter, slid down the wall of the sink, and cradled you in his arms.

Had the circumstances been different, you would have laughed. Jackie was holding you against him, nestling against your forehead and petting your hair on the filthy-ass floor of a club bathroom. But they weren’t different. You had just been drugged, and then fucked within an inch of your life by your best friend.

What a fucking mess this night had turned out to be.

Your bottom half ached as Jackie shifted you in his lap, keeping you cradled against him protectively. He smoothed your sweaty hair from your forehead, brushing the thumb you had sucked gently over the jut of your cheekbone.

“Jack-“

“Aye, carino, save that pretty voice of yours. We got to get you home-“

“Did you mean it?” Your voice came out sluggish and hoarse, strained from screaming his name.

Jackie peered down at you with a furrowed brow, carefully wiping away a tear stain on your cheek. “Mean what?”

“That…” You found your words sticking in your throat. You averted your gaze from his, instead focusing it on a corner of the ceiling. Another stroke of his thumb along your face at last coaxed the question from where it had been resting deep within your belly. “That you always have. Meant it.”

He stayed there for a moment so long it felt as if it had stretched into an hour. Before you could take it back, say it had just been the drug to try and cover your embarrassment, a small, crooked smirk spread across his features and he ran a hand over his face.

“Fuck, V,” he murmured, then exhaled a breath and craned his neck down so that your noses nudged together. It was a strangely passionate gesture, so foreign after the sinful acts you’d just committed. “Been wanting you just as long, chica. See you every day, looking like that, and it feels like I’m… I don’t know, a ticking fucking bomb. Didn’t know when I was gon’na go off.” He glanced up and around at the bathroom surrounding you. “Wish it would’ve been somewhere else, but I guess beggars can’t be choosers.”

You stared up at him, the ache blossoming through your used body momentarily forgotten. At first you thought it was the drug talking, that soon his eyes would darken and he would be ready for another round. He wasn’t in his right mind; he was just saying these things to get you riled up.

But as you held his gaze, and he gingerly leaned down to capture your swollen lips in a soft, gentle kiss, you realized it was all real. It was all true. No drug-fueled fuck sessions, no lies - nothing but the truth. He did really, truly want you, just the way you were.

Slowly, Jackie pulled away from the kiss to smooth your brow with his thumb and press his lips against your forehead. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

A drained, sluggish smile overtook your lips. “No,” you murmured and reached up to cup his weathered cheek. “I know you’d never hurt me, Jackie.”

You stumbled through the club together a while later, supporting each other’s weights as you stopped at the front doors to collect your weapons from the bouncers. The woman who had drugged you still sat on her stool, and she watched you both with a knowing, charming smirk. When you met her eye, she winked before turning to the next customer in line.

A tired sigh escaped your lips as you collapsed into your car’s passenger seat, having handed over the keys to Jackie upon his insistence. He climbed in beside you, his own lids drooping as he started the engine. Then a grin passed over his features as he dug around in his pocket before flipping a small object your way. You caught it, then opened your palms to find one of the small tabs of drugged ink lying on its side.

“What?” he teased as he settled his hands on the wheel. “You didn’t think I’d forget about the job, did you?” His thick brow quirked. “Not that I didn’t just have the best fuckin’ night of my life with my girl.”

You smiled and flipped the tab of ink into the air. “You’re something else, Jackie.”

“I’ll be whatever you like, princesa,” he said before peeling away from the curb. “As long as you remember that you’re mine.”

#cyberpunk #cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk jackie #cbp 2077 #cyberpunk x Reader #jackie welles #jackie welles x reader #jackie welles x you #jackie welles smut #cyberpunk 2077 smut #cyberpunk 2077 x reader

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andreas-river · 1 year

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Hello, hope you’re doing well :)

Was wondering if you could do a Graves x fem!medic!reader where he acts all cold to her but when she’s treating him for a serious injury he admits it’s because he doesn’t want to get close to someone he’ll lose

After returning from the hospital reader finds him again and asks if he meant it, and he admits he did Could go anywhere from there ;)

Preferably not hate sex, this guy needs a break

Feel free to play around with the plot and make it your own, thank you! <33

Phillip Graves X Fem!Medic!Reader

Words count: approx. 1.3k

Warnings: angst, fluff, mention of blood, wounds and death, canon-typical violence, light description of sex, so MDNI.

Disclaimer: nothing too much, I couln't make fully NSFW cause the request was anonymous (please, next time read my pinned post). Enjoy!

════════════════════

Summer had finally arrived: you could tell by the air conditioners, which your colleagues had turned up to maximum, and by the large number of soldiers who were eager for some fresh air.

You could tell the same thing about yourself, even if you were forced to wear long trousers and the white coat: the only relief was the tank top underneath.

And just as you stopped running from room to room and finally sat down at your desk, you heard your name called from across the floor - and the hospital wing of the base was massive.

Pushing yourself to your feet again, you quickly run to the emergency room, where you find two other nurses helping a man lying on the bed, which you recognize only when you get closer: the Commander, Phillip Graves, was bleeding from a stab wound at shoulder level in one of the beds in the emergency room.

You come to your senses immediately and take charge of the situation.

"Keep the pressure on - and you, get an IV, I need antibiotics and a painkiller. Where's the surgeon?" you quickly order as you start to clean the cut: it's deep, but not too much; you're pretty sure he'll survive.

"He's doing another surgery!" you hear from another nurse and curse through clenched teeth.

Freeing him from the heavy equipment, you quickly insert the IV into both arms, allowing the painkiller and antibiotic to enter his body.

Grabbing the first aid kit from another room, you quickly returned to the side of his bed and grabbed whatever was necessary to sew up the wound: you had done it many times before, but this time was almost different.

Second by second, the wound was finally closed, a sigh of relief escaping your lips as you once again cleaned the area to be finally bandaged.

"It was that bad?"

You almost jumped at his voice, finally meeting his piercing gaze.

You missed him.

"It was." You gave him a small smile, trying not to think about your face heating up. "It's much better now."

He hummed in response and returned to his usual behavior: he was a cold man, you never saw him smile, only bitter ones adorned his face.

But you were determined to get all the answers you wanted from him.

"Is there a reason why you always act so cold?" You asked slowly, watching him sneer at you: but you stood your ground, waiting for his answer.

And when he saw your determined look, he surrendered, much to his surprise: it was not like him to give in so quickly.

"I don't want to get close." He says slowly, choosing his words carefully. He felt different. "In this job, if you get close to someone, you're bound to lose them eventually."

You listened to his words, his tone deep and sad, his lips pulled into a sad grimace as he stares blankly at the ceiling.

A sigh escaped your lips, ignoring the pain in your chest. "You need to rest. Use the button if you need anything," you force a smile and leave his side - even if you don't want to.

You try to force yourself to leave him alone, but you've never been able to push away your feelings for him that have grown over time. Something about him attracted you, the desire to know him - the desire to really get to know him, to get over the wall he had built, to be close to him because you had grown too fond of him. His presence had always given you a sense of security that you had never had with other men before him or with anyone else. You had learned to rely on yourself as much as he did.

He had never liked the idea of showing himself to be weak or vulnerable, climbing the ranks one by one until he became Commander, no longer needing anyone close to him to make him himself.

But it became inevitable with time, and he knew it well.

And he did not understand how a medic had broken through to his heart without him even realizing it.

Some time passed, and the days went by, but your mind kept going back to Phillip lying on the hospital bed with a wound that could have killed him if no one had intervened in time.

You couldn't get him out of your mind for even a moment, and found yourself constantly searching for him with your eyes when you weren't busy with sick patients or filling out piles of paperwork.

It was as if he had left a bitter taste in your mouth, something you wanted to get rid of once and for all. You hated floating in the sea of doubt, the thousand unanswered questions you were slowly drowning in.

Your legs moved by themselves, looking lost in the nothing, the end of another day weighing on your shoulders like a rock that you simply wanted to forget, unaware of where you were going when you bumped into somebody, but ready to apologize when you realized who the person in front of you was - the Commander.

"Hi..." you try, realizing that maybe it was the right moment and that you would not be so lucky to meet him alone a second time.

"Hey." he seems nervous, you can see it in his eyes, which are wandering around except on you.

You let out a shaky breath, your heart beating hard and fast in your chest. It's now or never.

"The other day you said something about..." the words died in your throat as fear took over, making your face flush with embarrassment.

"I said I didn't want to get close to anyone," he finishes for you, finally looking directly into your eyes.

"But it can't always be like that, can it?" you try, somehow realizing that he was really close to you, feeling his gaze fixed on you, your hands shaking from the fear that was overwhelming your senses.

"People die every day," he begins, involuntarily pushing you against the wall, his nose almost brushing against yours. "I've seen too many people die before my eyes - half of them not even realizing it when a bullet went through their head. Or others who died in agony, knowing their time was coming." His lower lip trembled, his eyes filled with tears as you realized that in front of you was a man who had been hurt by too much pain and too many responsibilities that weighed on him and that he wanted to get rid of, even if only for ten minutes.

He realizes that your hands were touching him, caressing his face, while your eyes were on his own, realizing that even you had to see how death takes many people, even women or children.

Both of you witnessed the horror of war, saw too much blood in both of your hands, maybe when you tried to save someone, but did not succeed every time.

You know well that he doesn't get close to anyone, but when his lips touch yours, you understand that deep down he really wants to. And he really tries, even when your skin touches and brushes against each other, seeking a bit of comfort in each other, while outside the window the whole world is at war, breath mixing in an attempt to warm each other, to warm two hearts that have not been able to open for far too long.

#phillip graves #phillip graves x reader #phillip graver x fem reader #cod phillip graves #graves mw2 #call of duty #cod #cod mwii #call of duty mw2 #request #request open

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notafraidofredyellowandblue · 1 year

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Recent posts about masculinity got me thinking. I am not surprised that people see Till as the epitome of masculinity ofc if you go by looks. But from what I've seen I find Paul to be a lot of the things that I personally find very manly. He's confident without being an ass about it. He can be stern (like with people trying to enter the boat) without being rude. He can have a committed relationship with an equal and takes responsibility (we don't know ofc but I think not having children with everybody is a part of that for me). He works in a field he loves and is serious about but without sacrificing everything for it. And he can still be funny and silly and goofy and is certainly no killjoy but I bet if needed he can switch to serious in an instant. He enjoys what he's reached in life without boasting. He can show affection (like hugging his daughter) without that embarrased air around him. I can see a growth over the years without loosing himself. A man can be built like a tank but if he lacks qualities like these the manliness level for me drops considerably. I think about this when people talk about Till as the greatest and overall best because I honestly don't see it. And I was quite impressed back in the late nineties by his sensibility and the way he talked and so on but over the years he lost a lot of what appealed to me. For me (all of this is ofc my very personal impression on the available data) it feels like Paul can seem very much like an overgrown child but has really grown into a man and Till seems very much like the man around but is still a teenager on the inside. Which maybe explains the also many people who consider him a poor little meow meow whose bad life choices are never his fault.

i pondered if i wanted to share this ask, because of the negative undertone the word 'masculinity' has these days, but then i figured that's mainly because of 'toxic masculinity' and let's face it, anything combined with 'toxic' would make it negative, same goes for 'toxic cuteness', 'toxic softness' and 'toxic freches früchtchen' (to go with Paul's phrase 😊)

And i agree that Paul seems to be a very manly man: confident (even at 18) but with an easiness to it, firm without being rude (both with fans wanting to enter a boat, but also with Till wanting to bash his head against Paul's mic), in control without being micromanaging. I think there isn't much in Rammstein going on without Paul knowing it (and having an opinion on it 😊) (btw: that's why it imo was so funny that Richard managed to sneak up to him on stage and surprise him 😊

And indeed Paul can be very playful, both in a 'goofy with the guys' and a 'cute and playful' way, sometimes even childlike, but never childish 🌺. And also very affectionate, as he shows regularly with several bandmates ❤️

The phrase "growth over the years without loosing himself" i like a lot, and i agree with it. He's definitely older (can you believe he'll turn 60 end of next year?) and more mature than he was when Rammstein started (or Feeling B), but he's always very much Paul ❤️

Till i see as a masculine man too (maybe they are the among most masculine in the band, with Olli), but maybe in different ways. No i'm not talking about physique (although i can imagine that is why people who don't really know him, also see him as masculine), but Till has imo always had a 'cool' and a 'don't give a damn about what others think' vibe that imo makes him very appealing to be with. I think it's one of the reasons why he always attracts attention in a group of people, a certain magnetic quality (even though he may not always like it), and yes, imo very masculine.

Aside from that Till is one for 'going back to nature', living off the land, roughing it; all very masculine traits imo. (And ofcourse there are his views on people who go in therapy, which in itself are also pretty masculine, but in a different way).

I think more than with Paul, Till has different persona in different situations: on stage, being both a showman and a prankster, jetsetting, and tucked away in small village life. The playful part on stage is imo often being a bit of a prankster (lately i'm often reminded of Nelson of The Simpsons when i see him on stage), and he has retained a bit of juvenile humor (watch him laughing when Flake got that 'dick hat' on on stage).

Where Paul is 'in control', and according to stories, Till likes to be in control too (at least on stage, we know what happens when some of the crew make a mistake) but he handles it differently. I also think that Till is easily persuaded to do something if he's indulged in what he likes (rather, it has been stated almost literally in at least one making of) That's why personally i'm not a big fan of the entourage he formed around him the last couple of years, because imo they indulge him too much and don't tell him 'no'. Ofcourse he's old and intelligent (Till is from a very intellectual background, he should be able to look at himself and evaluate) enough to say 'no' himself, but he often doesn't imo... But like i said, he's smart enough to be able to figure that out 🌺 maybe just every now and then, he needs someone to give him a kick up the youknowwhat 😊

Does that make him less masculine though? 🤔 Not in my book...but what do i know 😊

#masculinity and stuff #but what do i know...right?

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sandpumpkin · 2 years

Note

Hello fellow Croc enjoyer! I hope you’re doing well! 💜

For your Sun, Sea, Scares event, could I possibly request Crocodile with the prompt Museum, please? To decide the ending, I pick… Trick! Thank you for your time and I hope you have fun with the event as a whole! Take care! 💜

Hallo friend! Thank you for the request! I hope you like it!

Beholdth, the man of sand.♡＼(￣▽￣)／♡

Sun, Sea, Scares

Crocodile - Museum - Trick

Crocodile was a businessman and that showed in all walks of his life. Even in the great city of Alabasta where he already held so much sway, he wanted to garner more influence. So he funded and built a large museum to showcase Alabasta’s rich and fruitful history. He did hope it would bring the legendary pluton or at least knowledge of its whereabouts to the surface. The museum was almost ready for opening.

Crocodile lit a cigar as he strolled around the museum, inspecting its exhibits one last time before it was open to the public. There was a tank for bananawani and another for small less vicious creatures. He stopped in front of the bananawani tank for a little while, tapping on the glass with his hook. The dim light of the enclosure gave for a more underwater experience and made the room feel far cooler than the usual Alabasta heat. Leaving the bananawani, Crocodile carried on his way. The empty museum felt eerie but Crocodile didn’t pay any heed to such silly thoughts. He got to a room full of small replicas of some of the larger limestone sculptures in the vast deserts of the Kingdom.

“Hm, the detail looks accurate.” Crocodile hummed, leaning in for a closer view of one of the sculptures. “It needs more sand.” Rising to his full height, he let his devil fruit powers rage and covered the room in an inch or so of sand. He nodded. “Better. Most atmospheric.” Crocodile moved towards the doorway to the next exhibit, when he stopped sharply. Something caught his attention out the corner of his eye. At the base of one of the statues was a rectangular hole one that had not been there a second ago.

Crocodile walked over to it and tried to recover the hole with sand but the sand just slipped away into the hole and stranger still the hole had grown a few inches. He stepped back, deciding he would let someone else deal with it but as he moved something pulled him back. Glancing over his shoulder he saw nothing, he turned his full attention to the strange gap on the floor and he noticed grains of sand were being slowly sucked into it. Another pull this time stronger than before almost caught Crocodile off guard.

The room was illuminated with a brillant and painfully bright light. You are the desert King. And this shall be your tomb. As you have made the desert a tomb for so many others.

The force from the hole whirled out of control, kicking up the sand in the process. Crocodile was caught in a powerful sand tornado akin to one he had unleashed countless times on the Kingdom of Alabasta. His devil fruit powers did nothing but serve to make the tornado spin faster. Crocodile felt his feet slide from under him and there was nothing but sand to grab onto with his one good hand, which slipped through his fingers. His angry screams were drowned out by the sandstorm. The hole expanded and swallowed Crocodile whole and the storm settled almost instantly. Sand settled on everything like snow after a blizzard.

All that remained of Crocodile was a small effigy at the base of the statue, in poor likeness.

You shall be remembered by the rottenness of your soul not by the generous man you claimed to be.

#pumpkin writes #sir crocodile #sun sea scares #horror #one piece #Croco-chan

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red-writes · 2 years

Text

Izuku x chubby! reader

content contains: fingerings, squirting, kissing uwu.

red’s 📝: y’all..I need this man NEOW. this is also unedited so enjoy that lmao

Izuku doesn’t have the capacity to hate anyone truly. It’s not within his nature. But boy does Izuku dislike the guys you go on dates with. You’re never able to go on second dates with them because he always finds fault in them in one way or another. It sucks but at the same time he’s always right about them. Dating as a fat woman is already hard enough without deku having to point out flaws in every single guy you so much as look at. You end up confronting him about it one night when he’s at your place as he sits back against the couch, spreading his legs a little further and clicking his jaw in that way that makes you weak in the knees. He just looks so good and he’s looking at you with such serious eyes that shivers are racking throughout your entire body.

“They’re just not good enough for you”

You’re so confused by his response, you cross your arms in front of your chest and scoff, “and what’s good for me Izuku?”

He sits up this time, leaning forward, “someone who’s strong, someone who genuinely cares about you and wether you ate today, someone who doesn’t make shitty comments about the way you look, someone who thinks you’re fucking gorgeous someone..someone like me!”

You can’t hear anything over the thudding of your heart in your ears at his confession.

“like you..?” your voice comes out as a whisper and deku thinks that if not now, when?

“Yes. but not someone like me- fuck-, me, I'm right here y/n I always have been” He rises to his feet and suddenly you’re aware of how much taller he is compared to you, how much bulk he’s built up over the last ten years, how he's grown into such a man before your very eyes.

“If you don’t stop me” he starts, his hand snaking its way on your neck. “I’m going to kiss you” his head leans down just enough that your lips graze against each other, “I’m going to pick you up, carry you to my bed and fuck you”

you don't make a move to stop him and Izuku’s lips crash hungrily against yours, desperate- like he's been waiting ages for this moment. He makes true to his promise and lifts you swiftly into his arms, you kiss back with fervor and he blindly walks to his bedroom where he tosses you onto the bed.

“You don't know how long I’ve wanted this, wanted you” he growls as he peppers hot kisses down your neck and chest, he tugs your tank top underneath your breasts and curses under his breath as he stares at the mounds. Your cheeks warm and your legs press together from the primalness of his gaze.

“Izuku..touch me please” you whine and the man takes action quickly. his mouth quickly latches onto one of your peaked buds, rubbing his tongue expertly against your areola eliciting sinful moans from your lips that make the blood flow from Izuku’s head straight to his cock making him lightheaded and making his dick throb in need. You began shimmying out of your pajama shorts in desperation to feel the man’s hands along every part part of your body. He slid his hand down your chest and stomach until it came in contact with the hem of your panties. Izuku’s fingers pulled back the elastic and let it snap against your skin which made your whine from the sting of the pain. He pulled your panties to the side and ran his fingers up and down your slit, gathering the wetness between his fingers only to lift them up towards your face. He popped his mouth off your nipple and grinned smugly up at you

“This all for me?” he chuckles and you groan

“just get back to work” you grumble and push his head back toward your chest. He chuckles before reattaching his lips the the perky little nub. His fingers swirl over the outside of your cunt, fingers ghosting over your clit making you whine and buck your hips upwards and he chuckles around your nipple which sending shivers down your spine. He gives up the teasing and rubs his thumb over your clit. He pushes two fingers inside of you and you mewl at the sensation. Izuku’s fingers were so much thicker than yours, so rough and long they touched your deepest places so easily. You cried as you felt your orgasm approaching. Izuku could feel the way your pussy squeezed down on his fingers, hinting at your oncoming orgasm. You could feel the pressure building in your tummy and as you felt yourself getting closer towards that high the rougher Izuku’s movements became. his fingers stirred your pussy up, juices shot out of your cunt as you came. body shaking from the intensity of your orgasm. He slowly stops the movement of his fingers leaving you laying limp from your orgasm.

Izuku straddles your hips as he strokes his hard-on from over his sweats, “don’t fall asleep yet doll, the fun isn't over yet”

#deku be like: pick me choose me #I got lazy and didn't write the sex lmao #izuku x reader #mha smut #bnha smut #izuku x reader smut #izuku smut #deku smut #deku x reader smut #izuku x chubby reader #izuku x chubby reader smut

1K notes · View notes

tharros-auris-black-asimi · 3 years

Text

Warmth

Pairing: Alpha Beefy Bucky x Female Mutant Reader

Summary: Being paired off with Bucky Barnes on a mission was hard enough. Hell, the two of you being a part of Hydra a long time ago was already hard enough. But when the two of you are forced to seek shelter in an Avengers safehouse, it gets even worse.

Because there's only one freaking bed.

Will you survive the night with the grumpy Alpha by your side? Or will you rip your hair out?

Who knows. The nights are unpredictable.

What you do know is, is that Bucky Barnes is too fucking hot for his damn good.

Maybe you just might pull your hair out.

Warnings: Heavy A/B/O dynamics. Mentions of past torture from Hydra for both Bucky and the Reader. This Bucky is sort of a mix between CW!Bucky, (hence the beefy!Bucky), but also TFATWS!Bucky bc I love grumpy old man, sassy Bucky. Some angst/hurt/comfort, because I'm a hoe for angst. No heats/ruts in this lil fic, just good ole rough smut. Some biting and some mild blood too. This sex would be considered unprotected irl, but in the a/b/o verse, I don't think you'd need protection??? Who knows. Italics are for when Bucky and the Reader are talking in Russian. The Reader also has a nightmare, which ties back in with the whole mention of past torture from Hydra. If I missed any other warnings in this, let me know and I'll make sure to add them!

Additional Notes: This was written for @agentofbarnes's writing challenge! Congrats on 7k, Zee! I'm sorry this took so long. I started writing this in July, and let it marinate for far too long. But it's here now. I hope you enjoy!

All writing mistakes in this fic are mine, as usual.

Word Count: 4,602

Hell.

This was absolute pure fucking hell.

As you and the former Winter Soldier, James "Bucky" Barnes himself stared at the front door of one of the safehouses for the Avengers in case of emergencies, you couldn't help make eye contact with him.

Great. This was just great.

No one, not even Clint had told you that it would be snowing in freaking January in rural Ohio, of all places.

Then again, you had faintly remembered doing gymnastics before you had been taken by Hydra with some arrogant Alpha guy named Lance. He had been a real pain in your ass and you remembered you had made him cry once. After you had escaped from Hydra, you had bumped into him again. Funnily enough, he was still just as scared of you as he was all those years ago. Which, you know, was nice.

But what was not nice was the Alpha that was currently looking back at you. James Buchanan Barnes, Bucky, Buck, White Panther, Jesus, Bionic Staring Machine- (the last three nicknames, all given to him by the Alpha Sam Wilson himself), scowled at you. His blue eyes even narrowed at you.

You wouldn't call what you and Bucky had a friendship. You two weren't even enemies. Heck, colleagues? Teammates? That was just putting it lightly, the relationship you had with the Alpha. Even when you had been captured and brainwashed into serving Hydra, the two of you had never crossed paths. It had been only after Hydra had fallen, did the two of you actually meet in person. Other than that, nothing. Nada. Nope. No with a capital N.O.

"Come on, let's go." Bucky all but grumbled. Realizing he didn't have the key to get inside, he looked at you. Like you had the key or something.

"James, I don't have the key." Bucky groaned. "Do you have a bobby pin, Omega? Something?" He asked in Russian. You plucked a bobby pin from your hair. A stray piece of hair fell. Putting the flat side in, you managed to unlock the door. You turned to look at him, giving him a toothy grin.

"Learned that from Pit Pocketing for Dummies, 101."

Bucky rolled his eyes at that. You just sniggered as you opened the door, greeted by cool air smacking against your face.

It made you shiver.

Because, unlike Bucky, you did not have any of that good ole supersoldier serum in your veins.

You were a mutant that could control water. Sometimes, you wished that you had the ability to control fire, because then, at least you could be warm in such dire situations such as these.

Taking your shoes off and putting them at the door, you surveyed the place.

It was a small house. Like a cozy little cottage. Probably only had at least two rooms at the max. It certainly gave off that vibe. There was a fireplace in the living room. A fully furnished kitchen, complete with a little wooden table with benches instead of individual chairs near the window.

Your grip on your bag of clothes became tighter as you realized that you needed to take a shower. Your stomach grumbled, alerting Bucky that you were hungry. Your comms had died. The two of you could contact no one until you charged them.

Which meant for at least tonight, or whenever the snowstorm outside stopped, you only had Bucky Barnes for company.

Well. That certainly would be pleasant.

"Go and shower first. I'll make dinner."

***

After your shower, you walked back into the kitchen, your sweet smell that reminded Bucky of deserts that his Ma used to make for him and his younger sisters back in Brooklyn drifted towards his nose. Thanks to the serum, he had already smelled it a mile away.

Cinamon rolls. Apple turnovers. Apple pies. Pumpkin pies. Bucky felt his Alpha rumble at the smell. Even Winter stirred at the familiar scent he loved so much.

When Bucky had gotten the trigger words wiped away from him due to Princess Shuri's genius, the Winter Soldier hadn't gone away from him. Rather, Winter had become a part of Bucky. Winter had been what Bucky became to survive Hydra. Winter was Bucky, only darker. More possessive. The deepest, darkest thing of him that the Wakandan Elders had helped him find again and reconcile with.

It was during times like this, making dinner in the kitchen that reminded him so much of his time back in Wakanda. Taking care of his farm and his pet goats, (that he sadly couldn't bring back with him when coming back to America), that he missed the most. It was domestic, in a way. He could almost feed into the fantasy, the thought that you were his Omega, his Bondmate, and that he was just making dinner for you.

From an outsider's perspective, it might've looked like Bucky didn't like you. That he just tolerated you. Treated you like how he treated everyone else in his life.

But it was the contrary.

He liked you.

He liked you very, very much. Other than Steve, Natalia, and heck, even the winged pigeon- you were one of the only people to truly understand him. You were probably even on the same playing field as Natalia, because you knew what it was like to be controlled by the Russian government. You held him at an arm's length at most, and you never treated him like he was some fragile, broken man. When you treated his wounds, you never fretted like other Omega's. Nor did you dottle. Ask him if he was okay every five seconds. It was disappointing in a way.

Bucky turned his head, just as you hopped yourself onto the counter, away from the conduction stove.

The smell of butter pasta was filling your nose. You watched with rapt attention as Bucky shut off the stove, grabbed the freshly grated cheese, and dumping it in. To hell with calories. Stirring quickly for a few seconds, he stopped. Turning his head to look at you, he gave you a low smirk. His scent of something sandalwood, oceany filling your nose. It made your Omega preen.

"Get some bowls, will ya doll? And forks too." Hopping off of the countertops, he heard a chirping, yet sarcastic reply.

"Yes, Sarge."

He felt his pants tighten at the thought. Hearing you grab all of the stuff, he swallowed.

Not that he would tell you that.

No.

Never.

***

"Oh, you've gotta be fucking with me."

So, as luck would have it. There weren't two bedrooms.

Nope.

There was only one.

Not only that, the entire room was fully furnished. A closet was on the left side of the door, against the wall. There was a window and just a bit to right, in the middle of the room, was a queen-sized bed, all made up with all the fluffiest blankets, comforters, and pillows imaginable.

"And you're sure this is the only room?" Bucky said. "Yeah! It's the only one, James. It's either this or the couch. And I'm not sleeping on the couch. It's too cold. Whoever built this safehouse didn't have any heaters built in either. Fuck, is this how I die? Freezing to death?" Your voice was getting higher with concern.

Bucky just rolled his eyes.

"No, doll. You're not to freeze to death. We're going to share that bed."

You turned your head towards him like he had just grown a second head. "What?" you exclaimed. "No. No, no, no. Noooo. James. Nu-uh. Uh-uh. I'm not going to sleep with you in my tank top and underwear. the least you've seen me in is a pair of short shorts and a tank top."

Bucky inhaled deeply through his nostrils.

Get yourself together Barnes.

Don't throw her over your shoulder.

Don't do that.

"You're a water mutant, doll. You're not a fire mutant. You aren't a supersoldier either. I'm not letting you freeze to death. I'll keep you warm all night. Better yet, don't sleep in your tank top and shorts. Our body heats will do just fine." Bucky snapped at you. You were still trying to collect your thoughts.

And then the realization, the reality of your situation, smacked you right across the face.

Bucky was asking you to sleep naked.

With him.

In the same frigging bed together.

Oh you were going to die. You were going to die and go up to wherever other spirits went to after they died. You weren't really all that religious nor spiritual.

But tonight though?

Yeah. Maybe you believed. Maybe a little.

Just the slightest bit.

"Okay, okay," you grumbled, "I won't wear any clothes. Better yet, I'll even give you a show. That'll even out the odds, James."

***

Warm.

He was just oh so warm.

Your back was flush against his front, feeling skin-on-skin.

You had stopped shivering about an hour ago.

Bucky had scouted the safehouse, to see if there was actually a heater, in case you had missed anything.

Nope.

There were no heaters in the safehouse.

Absolutely none.

Not to mention, all of the blankets weren't as thick. From what Bucky had observed a few hours ago after dinner while you had tackled the task of doing the dishes, was that the safe house had been abandoned for a while. It was either that, or nobody had stocked this place up for a while.

He had chosen the latter.

With his strong arms wrapped around your stomach, he pulled you close. You were asleep. Dead asleep. Bucky felt and saw your body rise up and down as you slept, your breaths all evened out.

It was nice, almost. Outside was quiet. Bucky could hear other than your breathing only the soft wind blowing due to the snowstorm outside.

For a moment, Bucky was lulled into a sense of calm. His mind was clear. His Alpha and Winter were quiet. He didn't have to fret. Or look over his shoulder. Didn't have to second guess himself or his actions anymore.

And then he heard it.

Soft whimpers coming from the sweet-smelling Omega that he was currently holding in his arms. You had begun to squirm, arms thrashing out. Your legs smacked on his knees, trying to desperately claw yourself free from his tightening grip on you.

"... I'll be good... just don't chuck me in the freezer again... please sir... I hate it there... please don't chuck me in the freezer, please..." you were sobbing in your sleep. You started to blubber, continually trying to claw yourself out of Bucky's grip. The metal plates of his Vibrainum arm shifted as his metal fingers tightened around your stomach. Bucky knew not to apply too much pressure on you- you weren't like him, Steve, or Natalia. You didn't have the serum in you.

"Doll? Hey, doll. C'mon, wake up. It's not real." Bucky tried shaking you awake to no avail. You had continued to thrash in his arms.

Sniffling loudly, your Omega was thrashing in her cage, in the confines of your mind. She was whispering, yelling at you to wake up.

"Omega. Wake up."

Bucky didn't mean to use his Tone. But you were being so hysterical, shaking, and crying to the point where it was beginning to worry him. Your sweet scent had begun to twist and turn into something more burnt. Singed. It made his eyes water.

You stopped thrashing in his grip. Your body froze up at his use of his Tone. Your Omega stopped throwing her temper tantrum too. She had paused for a second.

Her Alpha had given her a Command.

So why wouldn't she listen?

Peering from her cage in the confines of your mind, she sighed happily.

Alpha. Alpha cares about us. She whispered in your ear.

Slowly returning to consciousness, you struggled to know where you were for a second.

You had been having a nightmare.

A full-fledged nightmare.

You hadn't had one of those in a while.

"... Where am I?" Your voice was gentle but confused.

You still didn't know if you were still in that godforsaken Hydra facility or not. But you just wanted to make sure.

"Here, doll. You're here with me. We're in Ohio, remember? Sharin' one bed together cause I don't wanna be a bad Alpha and letcha freeze to death." Bucky said.

You couldn't help it. You snuggled into him, hearing a deep rumble coming from his chest. Bucky's Alpha was pleased. Very pleased. Winter was quiet. Which surprised Bucky. The little shit was usually more vocal about his own needs these days.

For a moment, it felt okay. You felt that weird fog lifting. Your brain slowly settling in your current surroundings. Your sweet, filling scent that had twisted and burnt into something smoky and burnt was slowly wearing off.

You were still a little shaken up. You could still hear your screaming echoing in your head. Your voice trembling, and because you didn't know if you were still stuck in the facility, "How long?"

"Not long."

Bucky watched as you lifted your head up, blinking once. And then twice. And then again, just to be sure.

Your body felt like it still wasn't physically here. Your body still felt like it was back in the cryo chamber, stuck in that damn freezer. Bucky watched your chest heave up and down. Taking in deep breaths.

Then you flopped right back into your previous spot, your back facing his front. Bucky pulled you back with his metal arm. You heard the metal plates in his arm readjust and move. You couldn't help it. Your vagina throbbed at the sound. Chewing on your bottom lip, you wiggled a little bit.

A deep rumble had come from Bucky.

The metal-armed Alpha had pushed a little bit of his weight down on you. Making you feel all warm and safe with the sandalwood and salty scent wrapped all around you like a cocoon.

You wiggled up against him again, trying to get comfortable. Your eyes closed.

A deep groan came from Bucky.

Was he asleep?

You stopped moving.

Another groan came from Bucky. His arms were wrapped around you. Not tightly, but still. It was kinda nice in a way. You could feel every muscle on his broad chest against your back.

Maybe Bucky had the right idea to sleep naked after all.

You shifted again. Trying to wiggle out a little out of the embrace.

A deep growl rumbled from Bucky. His grip on you tightened. You squirmed against him again.

Voice gravelly, "Stop moving."

Your eyes flew open.

He was awake.

And you had been-

Letting out a hiss, Bucky pushed his entire weight onto you and grinded his half-hard cock against your ass cheeks. Not even caring about if his entire weight would crush you, because of the serum.

He saw red.

Pure absolute red.

You choked. A needy little whimper filled the room.

Bucky's metal hand traveled down, all the way down to your pussy, his knee pushing your legs apart. You were panting in anticipation, eyes wide as saucers. His metal fingers were shoved deep, all the way to the knuckles. A pitiful whine left your lips. A needy whine too.

When he entered you, a choked sob escaped from your lips. Your hands curled into fists, eyes rolling into the back of your head as the formerly brainwashed assassin let out a growl.

"So sick and tired of you teasin' me," was what the former Winter Soldier growled under his breath, hissing at the way your cunt wrapped around him. Slick was smeared around your inner thighs, and you couldn't help but sob at the feeling of being so full.

Bucky was groaning above you, his hands nearing shaking.

Never had he ever thought he could ever get to do this again.

Because Bucky very much still liked sex. He very much so was a sexual creature. Being inside you gave him flashes of his life before Hydra. It made him remember a much skinner, smaller Steve. A much duller, war-stricken Brooklyn. It made him remember the giggles of Omegas. It made him remember his Ma's cooking growing up. Rebecca's giggles in his ears. Just like the old times.

Not for the first time in his life, he didn't feel trapped.

He felt free.

This was freeing to him.

And when he began to move, position his hips against your back, smacking roughly. Good enough to leave marks in the morning.

Wet, squishing noise echoed noisily every time he bottomed out of you. Every thrust in, filling you, completing you. It sent you gasping and crying out into the pillows. His hands- both metal and flesh, reached under you, to grab ahold of your breasts in a tight grip that only made you sob for more.

"More, more, more, please James, please-"

Something snapped in him.

Broke.

Bucky had never felt this feral before. The last time he felt this feral had been the hours when he first presented.

You whined loudly when he slid out of you, crying out at the empty feeling. Your Omega screeched in alarm.

Why had her Alpha stopped? Why?

Grabbing ahold of your legs, he lifted them up. Before he thrusted back in again, filling you up to the brim. It was deeper than last time, and his cock hit that spongy part. Hit your g-spot so good that you screamed into the pillows.

You were coming. You were coming so fast, that deep coil inside you snapping like a bomb wire being cut that you never got the chance to feel your programs. Your body jolted, spasmed. Your legs lifted off of the bed or at least tried to. Bucky's body weight was still keeping you down. So all you could do was grip the bedsheets when Bucky started to pound into you again, taking all he could.

You couldn't help yourself. You glanced back, just to take a glimpse of him.

James Buchanan Barnes looked downright feral and your pussy clenched around him deeper at the sight. as if she knew.

Every thrust made him go deeper, hitting your cervix every time. It made your second orgasm piggyback off of your first one, sobbing into the pillows. It was only when your second orgasm came, your walls clenching down onto his cock that Bucky's teeth sank into your shoulder, shattering, breaking the skin there. The taste of copper filling his mouth. Bucky let out a grunt as he came. Filling you up with so much of his jizz that he was sure it would drip from you tomorrow morning.

Bucky lifted his mouth from your shoulder.

Pants filled the room as the two of you tried to regain yourselves.

Bucky shifted, moving off of you and lying beside you. His eyes weren't black anymore. They were back to their normal blue. They reminded you of the sea in the morning on a peaceful day.

Your hand came to touch his face. Your hand faltered, trembled though. Because you were nervous.

"It's okay," his voice was deeper, huskier. It made your pussy throb. "You can touch me. It's okay."

Your hands came to touch, cup his jaw. You leaned in, pressing your lips against his. His lips were soft. Your lips moved together, his tongue slipping into your mouth. The kiss became deeper. You hadn't expected it to become deeper. You had been just going for an innocent kiss.

You swore.

Like- you really did.

You didn't expect to be fully making out with James Buchanan Barnes.

But it wasn't like you were complaining though.

Because you weren't.

Bucky was the first one to pull away. He could see how red, bruised your lips looked. He didn't recoil from your gentle touch on his face. He welcomed it. He truly did. Hands holding your hips, he looked at you.

His lips traveled down to your mating gland. He touched over it with his tongue, giving it a broad lick. His teeth sank in, piercing the skin.

Your ears popped. You cried out. His grip on your hips didn't falter.

"Yes, yes, yes," you gasped. Bucky lifted his mouth up from your gland, before sinking his teeth back in and biting again. Making his mark all that deeper.

It was only when he lifted his mouth from your gland, wiped your blood off of him with the blanket did you come at him, sinking your teeth into his gland. It made him grunt, even groan. His flesh hand came to your head, pushing your head down, making you sink your teeth even deeper into his gland.

"Yesss," hissed Bucky, his flesh hand sinking into your hair, gripping it. "Deeper, doll. Go deeper."

Winter and his Alpha completely agreed.

Theirs.

You were theirs.

After what seemed an eternity, you lifted your head up. Wiping your mouth on the blanket, you spoke.

"I missed you. What did you do to get us paired on this mission? I thought I was going with Sam," you said to your Alpha. A smirk stretched over Bucky's lips. "Ah," your Alpha said, still smirking, "I might've put something in his drink to make him vomit his guts out. He got sick."

A noise came from you.

"You gave him food poisoning? James!" You scolded him. Bucky leaned back against the headboard. "Don't worry doll, it'll wear off when we come back to the Compound. Bird Brain won't even know what hit him."

You shook your head in disbelief.

"You're unbelievable, Sasha. Did you teach Natalia that trick, too? Hmm? She and all of your Widow students?"

Bucky was still grinning ear to ear at you when he responded back.

"Well little bird, someone had to teach them. After all, I was their teacher. They all called me Yasha. Speaking of my Widow students..." he trailed off in Russian. You looked at him.

"You've contacted one of the KBG? About that leaked Russian tape with the orange man that is, unfortunately, our President?" He asked you. You nodded. "Yeah, Sasha. Everything's going as planned. Although, I think assassinating the orange man would've been a much better option. We would've gone in there and made it a done deal by now! Fuckin' Steve and his righteous self." You grumbled unhappily.

"Hmm. It would've been great as a date night. Don't you think, doll?" Bucky drawled. You gave a serious nod.

"Although... seeing him freak out on Twitter is much, much better. The tea is better when it's hot." You grinned. Bucky just let out a sigh.

"I'm restricting your phone privileges. And your TV privileges. You need to stop watching those drama channels, Mega."

A noise of deep discomfort came from you.

"Sasha!" you whined, "then what will I do while you're gone on missions?"

"Wait for me to come back?" Bucky suggested. You just sighed. Even shook your head in fondest. You happily snuggled up to your Alpha, your nose rubbing up against your Mate's gland. "I always wait for you to come back, Sasha. I wait and I worry. I love you, James."

A deep rumble came from your Mate.

"I love you too, Little Omega."

Your head peeked up.

"So, can we tell the rest of the team when I leak the tape?" You asked, your eyes glimmering with mischief.

Bucky burst out laughing.

"Yes, yes, yes. We can tell them once you've wreaked havoc, Omega."

"Good." You were nodding seriously, in complete agreement. "It'll be fun. And... also, I forgot to tell you."

The joyful expression on Bucky's face was suddenly replaced with one of worry.

"What? What is it?" He asked gently. "When you were gone for your last mission two months ago... I... I came off of my suppressants. I'm ready, James. I want a family with you."

Shock flickered over Bucky's face. And then he was shoving you back into the bed with a shriek coming from you.

"When's your pre-heat?" He demanded.

You felt it. A cramp. It made you whimper.

"N-Now, James. Now," you stammered. Your Alpha pulled your legs apart roughly before he thrusted back into you, making you gasp.

"Say it," he hissed. "Say you want it. Say you want my knot. Say you want my pups."

"I want it, James." Your voice was a low whisper, even staggering a little bit. "I want your knot. I want your pups. Please. Please, Sasha."

His hands, both metal, and flesh gripped your shoulder tight as that vein of his neck nearly popped. His eyes were black with want. Soon, his Rut would be upon him and he'd breed you. Put his pup in you. You'd carry his pup. He'd have the pack that Winter and his Alpha desperately wanted after all these years.

A whine came from you when he pulled out, only to let out a scream when he thrusted back in. Hitting that part of you that made your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your mouth fell open, but no words came out.

His pace was brutal, not even letting you hold onto him. Your hands were left to grip the bedsheets again. You gripped them so tight that your knuckles turned white and you thought that they were going to pop.

Bucky continued to push, continued to shove his ejaculate deeper and deeper inside of you. A mixture of your slick and his ejaculate smeared all over your thighs and trickled down your legs, and you just didn't know what was happening. Your hindbrain was telling you that this was what was needed. That your designation wanted, nay, demanded this. After all the shit you had gone through, your Omega had found her Alpha and now, now she was determined to have a family. Have the pack she desperately desired.

"Mine."

A harsh thrust made you sob.

"You're mine now. I waited for you for so long. Wanted you for so long. You're mine now. Got my Mark. Got my clothes in your nest. Gonna give you my name. Gonna give you my pups. You're mine. All mine. Say you're mine. Say it!"

You came screaming. Your orgasm making you see white. Bucky continued slamming into you, the wet, squishing noises coming from your pussy becoming louder and louder the more he pushed in. Your teeth sank into his flesh shoulder, shattering and piercing the skin there. You tasted copper in your mouth.

Bucky came with a shout. He shoved you back completely, making you shriek. And then he was leaning in again, sinking his teeth into your gland. Making another deep mark. It made you fall limp into the bed as his knot swelled, locking the two of you in place.

He lifted his head.

Being inside you... knotted inside of you... it was bliss. It was just as good as cockwarming. His cock all nestled deep inside of you whenever you two would sneak off to sleep together.

"Bite me again. Give me your mark, Omega." he panted. Slowly, your head went up, you slowly sat up, before taking in a deep breath and sinking your teeth back into his gland.

Home.

You had brought Bucky home. He held you tight, whispering in your ear how much he loved you and how much of a good Omega you were.

"I love you Omega." His voice was rough.

Lifting your head from his gland. Blood still trickling down the corners of your mouth. You offered him a smile. A genuine one. One that made his stomach all fluttery.

"I love you too, Alpha."

#agencyswritingchallenge #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #female reader #mutant!reader #abo dynamics #alpha bucky x omega reader

794 notes · View notes

notchesandbullets · 3 years

Text

Pure Affections Wrapped Up in a Dark Green Bow (Husband!Pro-Hero!Bakugou x Wife!Reader)

Art credit: @/gaysony on Instagram

Warnings: suggestive themes (there’s one steamy kiss and innuendoes sprinkled throughout), nudity (not sexual), fluff, cursing, injuries, hurt/comfort, soft!domestic!Bakugou and heartwarming present.

Synopsis: You had been married to Bakugou for a couple years now and you had a special present for him. But when he gets home, it’s clear that he hasn’t had the best day. You’re there, steady and strong for him to lean on for support and he does until he’s capable of standing on his own again. This is what love looks like.

Words: 6k

The door to your flat slammed closed, signaling that your husband was home, and you wiped your grimy hands on your dirt-streaked cargo pants. You grabbed something and jumped on the counter, shoving it in a cabinet before closing it. Double checking to make sure you couldn’t see it, you leaped down, quelling your excitement as you sped out of the kitchen.

But your rapid footsteps faltered when Bakugou came into sight, looking absolutely drained.

He dropped his duffle bag on the floor without a care and kicked off his shoes, never looking up once.��

“Katsuki?”

Your soft voice brought him back down to reality and he sighed heavily, gripping the roots of his ash-blond hair in frustration. When he finally glanced up, his garnet eyes were laced with exhaustion.

But everything melted away the instant he saw you.

Engine oil smudged on your cheeks, Bakugou refrained from snorting at the sight of your muddied cargo pants and stained, white tank top. You sure were a sight for sore eyes even when tinkering with your support items commissioned for big-time heroes like him.

“Hi.” You giggled as he dumped the rest of his stuff to the ground, closing the distance in between you two in three large strides.

You frowned as you noticed a slight limp in his gait but you didn’t get a chance to question it. Bakugou didn’t waste any time, trapping you in his arms and crushing your form to his chest.

He grunted his hello, but his eyes were soft and his smile was fond as he drew back slightly. He might’ve grown since his hot-headed days in high school as you helped him express his emotions but that didn’t mean all his ticks went away.

You just held him as his head plopped on your shoulder, sensing where his distress and aggravation was stemming from.

“Bad day?” You asked sympathetically, looping your arms around his neck so that you could card your fingers through his spiky hair.

He snorted but his fingers tightened from where they were gripping your waist. “Like you wouldn’t fucking believe.”

It was awful. He had gotten called away on a mission only to find out that his people mixed up who he was going up against and had given him skewed intelligence. He would’ve fucked them up for a mistake like that if it wasn’t for that column that landed on his leg and trapped it. He was fortunate that Recovery Girl had made a special trip to see him or else he would still be in the hospital.

You smiled sympathetically at the bite in his tone and pressed a kiss to his temple in an effort to calm him. “You want to talk about it?”

Bakugou shook his head no. All that could come later, right now, he just wanted to to hold you in his arms. Because when he did, it was like all was right with the world.

You didn’t press the issue. Instead, after coaxing him to stand on his own two feet so that you weren’t dragging his weight around the complex, you led him to your shared bedroom.

“C’mon, bathtime.” You encouraged softly.

Bakugou didn’t fight you as you guided him into the simplistic yet modern bathroom and he lifted his arms up as you tapped his wrists to indicate what you wanted him to do so that you could take his shirt off.

You turned around so he could strip the rest of the way and started to run the bath. You left the lights off on purpose so that the harshness of it wouldn’t hurt his eyes. Instead, the window provided natural light.

Adding a couple bath salts and essential oils (even though he claimed he hated the way it smelled) to aid in his relaxation, you adjusted the temperature of the water to chanced a glance back at the man draped over you. Your brow furrowed and a frown pinched the edge of your mouth as he leaned against you more than usual. He was more hurt than he was letting on.

Slinging his heavy arm around your shoulder, you supported him and helped him into the tub. He had already undressed the rest of the way but your brow furrowed as he struggled to lift his left leg. Eventually, you were able to lower him without a problem and you grinned triumphantly at the feat accomplished but it went unnoticed by your husband.

Bakugou frowned tiredly when you didn’t follow him in.

“Come here.” He rasped, his voice heavy and laced with a burden he didn’t want to voice.

Your expression softened but you shook your head. You were so dirty from working in your workshop. If anything, you needed a shower. He could soak by himself and then come eat dinner when he was ready and up for it.

But Bakugou tugged on your hand, insisting.

“I don’t give a shit.” He growled lowly. “Get in here, dumbass.”

Shaking your head at his crude language, you squeaked when he yanked you towards him. Your breath caught in your throat as he was now an inch away from your face, his hot exhales mingling with your gasp of surprise.

“You’re not asking, are you?” You sighed dramatically but smiled to let him know that you were just kidding. “Alright, give me a second.”

As soon as you took your clothes off, you clambered in the bath with him, facing him because you didn’t trust him not to try anything in this state where you were both nude.

He wrinkled his nose, giving away his displeasure as you stayed an arm’s length away from him but you didn’t care and urged him to scoot forward so that you could start to clean him.

Bakugou hissed as your nails dragged against his scalp. “Taking a damn bath is fucking dirty.”

“The water gets so fucking disgusting.” He scowled, huffing scornfully when he saw how brown the water was turning already.

You shrugged, focusing on a patch of particularly rough sediment clinging to his chest.

Bakugou took this moment of peace in time to observe the way your brow furrowed in concentration, how your nose flared and your lips pursed.

You hardly ever let him watch you at work in the shop, giving him a shitty excuse that he distracted you or some shit.

Fucking lame.

You were a vision when you were working on things that you were passionate on. He could watch you for hours and never get tired. He actually had, on several occasions, had gotten in trouble with his PR team more than once because he skipped or forgotten about a press conference meant to boost his publicity.

Not that he really needed more. If anything, as a top ten hero, he needed less.

All he wanted was to lay in bed and fall asleep with you in his arms. Was it too much to ask for that of the world? To give him an uneventful night of peace where he wasn’t called away to work, to be able to wake up with you in the morning when the sun rose above the skyline and greet you with breakfast in bed instead of a scrawled note that told you how much he loved and missed you since he couldn’t stick around.

You never minded. You never complained about the hardships once.

You knew that when you agreed to marry him you knew exactly what you were signing up for. And you never regretted it.

Sure, the days were hard. You had work and friends to keep you more than occupied but at the end of the day, it boiled down to commitment and how much you loved him. That wasn’t to say that waiting was easy, not at all.

Because everyday you had to worry about whether or not he would make it home that night. Whether he was eating properly and getting enough rest. How every time you turned on the news you held your breath as you flicked through the channels, hoping and praying that your husband wouldn’t be on the front of those stories that broadcasted the death of a hero for the whole nation to see.

But he was worth it. He was worth your unconditional love for him and every single moment of waiting. You would always wait for him because there was no one else you’d rather be with.

Bakugou almost fell asleep in the tub as you bathed him without being prompted. Normally, he's have some kind of irritation flashing through him as he was forced to endure your loving touch that he absolutely did not need. Or treasure.

Or was the only thing he was able to think of when you tended to him with the utmost care.

Fuck.

He had learned fairly early on in your marriage that being vulnerable didn't not constitute the same as being weak in his definition. But it got easier as time passed and he saw that you would be the last person on earth to judge him or think less of him because of his limitations.

It had taken a while but eventually you broke down those high walls of his, embracing him in the midst of the maze he had built up around his heart to protect himself and kissed the top of his head as he leaned down.

You got him. All of him.

There was nowhere else in the world he’d rather be than by your side.

Bakugou’s head lolled back against the backsplash as your nails scratched against his scalp.

He exhaled deeply. “Fuck, that feels good.”

You fought back a cheeky smile. You knew him well and all of his weak spots.

Bakugou’s eyes fluttered closed as you continued to clean him. Usually, he would insist you turn around and relax so that he could take care of you but all the energy was sapped out of him. He was lucky he had someone like you to sit here with him after a shitty day, not ask any questions, but just simply be with him.

You squeaked in surprise when he suddenly brought you in for a hug and you blushed a rosy red when he nuzzled unabashedly into the valley of your breasts.

“Katsuki!!” You exclaimed in shock, your fingers winding in his hair when he didn’t let you go. Your eyes shot open when he tugged you into his lap. He was never this forward and he usually waited a good couple hours to initiate any kind of physical contact after a rough day at work.

Today must have been particularly bad.

“Thank you.” Bakugou grunted, the voiced appreciation coming out muffled from where he was attached to your chest.

Gaze softening, understanding filled your eyes and you gently kissed the top of his head. “You’re welcome.”

Discreetly, you grabbed the soap to finish his bath, sudsing yourself in the process. Bakugou didn’t complain once as the water turned dark with dirt, even though he was barking about it earlier, simply basking in your presence and breathing you in while you took care of him.

He toweled off first, per your insistence since you still needed to wash your hair.

As soon as you dried off, you gestured for him to hand you the antibiotic so that you could get to work on those cuts of his. He protested the entire time.

“This doesn’t even hurt, why do you have to put a fucking—”

Bakugou broke off with a hiss of pain as you pressed down slightly harder than you needed to in order to emphsize your point.

“Katsuki…” You warned, your eyes blatantly telling him not to fight you on this or else he’d regret it. He got it rather quickly.

“Yeah, yeah,” He mumbled, averting his eyes. “Fine. Do your fucking shit or whatever.”

You weren't thrown off by the indifferent tone in his voice. He needed to know that you weren’t going anywhere.

He always got agitated anytime he got hurt. It was only natural for someone who grew up thinking they had to be strong all the time.

Gently pressing down on his thigh, you paid special attention to when he winced.

“It’s just bruised.” You threw him a pointed glance, knowing what he was going to deny. “Recovery Girl came by?”

“Yeah.” Bakugou hissed under his breath. “Shitty nerd called her before I could say a damn word.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Well thank goodness for that because everybody knows you would screw that up.”

“Oi.” He growled at your snark. “Not fucking funny.”

You grinned. “Wayyyy funny.”

Your smile faded as you continued to patch him up, inspecting him thoroughly to make sure you hadn’t missed anything. He had a tendency to hide how bad his injuries were and although you could understand why, you didn’t appreciate the times he was literally knocking on death’s door and would die if he didn’t receive medical attention.

Those times, you weren’t all that forgiving.

Gesturing to his leg that he had been favoring since he came home, you arched an eyebrow in silent questioning.

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “It’s fine.”

You crossed your arms over your chest but didn’t push it. He could still walk on it so it was probably fine. His pride was probably what was hurt more. Either that or the mission had gone bad and he had been too late.

Swallowing harshly, you knew not to cross that line.

As the two of you exited the bathroom, you left behind the tense atmosphere and relaxed as you stepped back into the living area, making your way to the kitchen with great difficulty as Bakugou peppered kisses to your neck in a wordless thanks for helping him.

And the instant you arrived in the kitchen, you sprang away from him.

“Surprise!!” You shouted excitedly, waving your hands at the simple meal set up at the table.

There was a single cinnamon and spice candle that sat in the center of the white tablecloth. He never was one for extravagance but you put in a little extra effort today.

At his silence, your arms dropped and you played with your fingers nervously, thinking that he didn’t like it. Or maybe that he found it annoying and just wanted to be left alone and now he would have to eat dinner with you.

You started to ramble as you began to panic. “I-I thought we could do something nice, since it’s your birthday, and I know since the pandemic, things have been really hard on you guys so I thought it would be nice to relax and—”

You cut off with a squeak as he swept you up into his arms and off your feet, burying his face into the crook of your neck. Cheeks flushing bright red, your stammering came to a halt as he let out a shaky exhale against your heated skin.

“Thanks.”

It came out quieter than his usual volume, taking you by surprise, but you still heard it nonetheless.

You didn’t tease him. Maybe later when he could handle it, but not now.

Stroking his hair comfortingly, you grounded him in reality before guiding him to sit at the table. He had tried to hide how happy he was from you but he couldn’t. Not one bit.

You knew him too well.

Letting him rest his feet, knowing he must’ve been standing and running around all day to correct mistakes, defeat villains and save people.

You moved to go sit down on the opposite side of the table like you normally everyday at dinnertime but the arm locked around your waist stopped you.

Glancing back quizzically, you yelped as Bakugou pulled you down into his lap, pressing your back flush against his broad chest.

He didn’t say anything, and if you had to guess, you figured that his brow was probably furrowed in annoyance and his mouth was pressed in a thin line at indulging in something as simple as your company and affection, but you could let him have this.

He deserved it after all.

Twisting around, you planted a gentle kiss to his jaw, raising a hand up to tilt his face down towards you.

“Happy birthday, Katsuki.” You breathed, eyes shining with emotion.

Two years. It had been two years since he demanded that you marry him. You couldn’t believe it when he asked you.

Unlike most couples, you two hadn’t dated much at all. Your first date was a home-cooked meal at his apartment that he shared with Kirishima at the time, a day before the wedding.

Your friends were shocked, to say the least.

But you two were close. You might not have dated like how many people would classify it, but the two of you knew each other better inside out for most of your lives and was often the first one called whenever there was a villain incident that the other had gotten hurt in.

Bakugou hadn’t cared that the public knew about you. He had originally wanted to keep it a secret so that you were better off in terms of safety-wise, but you had nothing to hide, telling him to let them try.

They wouldn’t break you.

Your relationship might’ve seemed rushed to some, frantic and panicked, but it couldn’t be more off from the truth.

The thing was, you just knew. You knew that if it was going to be anyone, if you could see yourself with one person for the rest of your life, it would be with him.

No one else even came close.

But you were still surprised when Bakugou admitted the same, just in fewer words.

After going through everything, the USJ incident where you had gotten hurt taking a hit from the Nomu for him, the kidnapping where he was ripped away right in front of your eyes, to where he was the one to finally be able to rescue you during a break-in at Heights Alliance, he just knew.

Like you, after risking your lives for each other countless times and finding solace in each other after it was all said and done meant a lot. Meant more than he could put into words.

You squeaked as the arms around you tightened out of the blue, concern filling your gaze as you leaned back into his chest.

“Are you okay?” You asked softly, your small hands covering his on your waist as you sank into his embrace, tilting your head up so that you could see him clearly.

Bakugou’s vermilion eyes snapped towards you as he was broken out of his reminiscing. He grunted in your direction, internally wincing at how short he was being with you even if you didn’t even seem to mind.

His wistful smile transformed into a full-blown smirk as you grabbed a piece of korean barbeque off of his plate and popped it in your mouth.

Bakugou’s breath tickled your ear as he leaned forward and his low voice, though rough with exhaustion, held a touch of amusement. “I saw that, dumbass.”

You blinked up innocently at him, kicking your feet childishly and he shook his head, pinching your side in retaliation. You jumped and smacked his chest, blushing deeply as a chuckle reverbated against your back.

“Katsuki!!”

“Fucking dumbass.” He muttered into your hair, unconsciously catching a whiff of the coconut and pineapple shampoo you used. You smelled even sweeter than usual, it was dulling his senses. But he was not complaining.

You smiled to yourself, snuggling into his warmth. It was quiet moments like this when there was nothing else but the company of him surrounding you and the ambiance of a safe place that you loved the most.

Heart at ease, you were surprised to hear that his heartbeat matched yours.

Your teeth worried into your bottom lip cheekily and before he could tease you any further, you redirected his attention to his mostly untouched plate, insisting that he eat.

Bakugou was generally pretty good about staying on top of meals and eating healthy to balance out all the exercise he got working as a hero, but lately things had hit him hard and he had been slacking off more than usual.

You were quick to catch it before it got too bad though.

Bakugou’s eyes shimmered with a hint of unspoken emotion. He was so lucky to have you.

Moving to get up so that you could get your food from across the table, you gasped as his arms squeezed around your midsection, preventing you from leaving.

“Don’t leave.” Bakugou muttered, his brow furrowed as a hint of a pout appeared on his face.

You giggled softly at his childish antics. “I’ll be right back.”

He could be so clingy sometimes, not that you were complaining. You were just as bad. There was something about being in his embrace and letting him hold you that made you feel safe, made you feel like you were at home.

Although it was rare and far in between, he did occasionally let you cuddle him. It had taken a while into your marriage for his walls to come crumbling down, but once they did, you never once made fun of him for what he needed or asked for.

Pouting when your beloved husband didn’t let you free, you blinked up at him with doe eyes.

You wiggled in his lap when he still didn’t release you. “Katsuki—”

“No.” He growled stubbornly.

You sighed, trying to appear as disheartened as possible. “But I’m hungry.”

“You can eat my fucking food, dumbass.” Bakugou huffed.

Folding your arms over your chest stubbornly, you frowned. He wasn’t going to eat the food you made? Even after going all day without eating his meals?

Oh hell no.

You squirmed in his lap, now trying to pry his unyielding grip off so that you could reach your own plate that was probably cold by now on the other side of the table.

“Katsuki, please?” You pleaded and his frown faltered.

Why did you have to be so damn cute? It wasn’t fair.

While he was distracted, you swiped your plate from across the table and settled back into his lap cheekily, sighing contentedly as he was left in a stunned silence.

“Oi, what the fuck?”

You giggled, waving your chopsticks at him. “What the matter, Katsuki? Cat got your tongue?”

He glared at you but it faded as you laughed harder and he found a small smile lifting up the edges of his mouth.

Dinner consisted of light banter back and forth as he stuffed the food you had made in his mouth, begrudgingly admitting that it tasted good when you eagerly asked.

He tapped your hip to get you to stop squirming once you finished eating but you retorted that he was taking too long.

He needed to finish, you had something to give him.

Bakugou arched an eyebrow and purposefully went slower until you smacked his arm with an indignant cry at his audacity. He barked out a laugh, his chest shaking as you pushed out your bottom lip at him childishly.

“Fucking brat.” He muttered fondly and you beamed at the soft tone he took on.

“You love me~” You sang, pecking his cheek.

“Go die.” He hissed, attitude back faster than you could blink.

You insisted that he finish his meal before you revealed what you were holding back from him.

Bakugou wasn’t going to admit that the curiosity was eating away at him as you dangled the unknown of his head like something to be played with and he was almost ashamed at how he quickened his pace.

Almost.

He didn’t react when you clambered off of his lap but his eyes widened when you climbed on top of the counter.

Chair scraping back and crashing to the tiled floor with how abruptly he stood up, he was by your side in a split second.

“Fuck— You’re going to fucking fall!!!” He cursed violently, chest heaving as he panted hard.

You giggled lightly, leafing through the spices you kept on the top shelf in order to find what you were looking for. “Relax, Katsuki, I’m fine.”

You started keeping them all on the very top after he dumped an entire bottle of chili pepper into your dinner one night. You were not amused at the shit-eating grin on his face that came from getting his fix of spicy food.

After that, it was only salt and pepper from then on, much to his dismay.

Bakugou didn’t look at all reassured by your words and he was strongly thinking about climbing up there with you just so he could catch you if you lost your balance when you squealed joyfully and hopped back down.

Thank fuck. You were going to give him a heart attack one day.

After you ushered him to sit back down, you presented the culprit as to what your dodgy behavior was all about.

Bakugou’s vermilion eyes widened when you proudly handed him a carefully wrapped gift box. The pattern on the paper was simple and you didn’t go overboard with decorating it, settling for a small bow on top.

He appreciated it.

Even though to the untrained eye it looked like you hadn’t spent much effort, he knew that it was in fact the very opposite. He could see where you had meticulously folded the paper so that it laid flat and didn’t crease or wrinkle. The dark green bow vaguely reminded him of Deku, but more of the time when you said you loved the green in his hero costume because of how much it contrasted against his eyes.

Your words, not his.

He couldn’t fucking care less about the color except for the fact that you said you liked it. That stuck with him more than he would’ve liked to admit.

Bakugou’s hand shook slightly as he accepted the gift. “You weren’t supposed to get me anything, brat.”

You only rolled your eyes humorously, planting your hands on your hips. “Oh please, like I’m not going to get you something for your birthday.”

You may have had a habit of going all out for things like his birthday and holidays and he hated it because he never knew what to do with those warm, fuzzy feelings you left him with, giving him those wide smiles of yours that lit up the room as though he had created the universe and blinked up at him with your bright, loving doe eyes that melted his heart.

So instead, his competitive spirit spurred on to compensate for the lack of emotional capacity he had to deal with all of these unwanted feelings.

It frustrated and flattered you to no end.

“You better fucking remember this when yours comes around then, dumbass.” Bakugou smirked, shooting you a sharp look when your jaw dropped. He would return the favor and go overboard when yours came around.

You blinked. The nerve he had. He knew you two were trying to save up funds so that you would have a stable foundation when you were ready to have kids. “W-Wait, Katsu—”

“Too late.” He rejected flatly, his eyes twinkling with a touch of amusement as he dodged your attempts to take back the present.

His present.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Bakugou snapped as you lost your balance and crashed face-first into his chest while trying to get it back.

You floundered for a second, trying to get your bearings but your husband was too fast and beat you to it. He set the box down in flash in order to catch you.

Hooking your legs around his waist so that you didn’t fall again, his palm splayed against your lower back, teasing with the hem of your shirt before it dipped underneath.

You jolted as his warm hand came in contact with your chilly skin and you shivered.

Bakugou’s eyes narrowed accusingly at you. “You’re cold.”

Blushing, you tried to hide only for him to be one step ahead of you and yank your wrists away from your face.

“Fucking idiot.” He muttered to himself and you giggled, bouncing excitedly in his lap now that your life was no longer in danger from falling ungracefully off of a chair.

“Open it, open it, open it!!” You chanted over and over again, tugging at his arm enthusiastically.

Bakugou grimaced at your volume. “Stop fucking yelling in my ear, you shitty woman.”

But he froze and his whole body tensed the second he opened the lid.

You blinked at him nervously, brushing back your hair anxiously as you waited for him to say something. Unable to wait as the silence stretched on, you pointed out each one of the items sitting in the container to explain what they were so he didn’t just think you gave him a pile of junk as a gag gift.

“They’re specialized compression arm bands for when you’re out in the field to help reduce the muscle strain but they won’t be affected by your quirk, you’d have to try really hard to destroy them and even then—”

“Thank you.”

You stopped your nervous rambling and blinked up at him in shock. Was that genuine gratitude you detected in his voice without the usual mask of nonchalance?

You giggled, almost not believing your ears. He didn’t even bother disguising it. “Wow, the world must really be ending.”

“Shut the fuck up and die.” Bakugou hissed.

Ah, there it was.

You grinned widely. “You really like it?”

“Course, you shitty woman.” He glowered, slipping them on to try it out.

Bakugou remembered telling you about the strain overusing his quirk caused on his arms but when push came to shove, he didn’t care if he destroyed his body when it came to saving the day. But that was years ago.

Back when you had first met and he had blown you up during a training session. Literally. The burns landed you in Recovery Girl’s office and after that, he had walked in to begrudgingly apologize but you just looked up at him with that same kind face that greeted him everyday and asked him if it always hurt to use his quirk for such huge blasts.

You weren’t even offended by the fact that he had hurt you. It was true that he didn’t ever hold back against opponents, even when training, but even he admitted that he might’ve gone too hard.

Maybe.

But to think you not only remembered it but also worked through that pretty brain of yours to come up with a solution like this.

All the support tech in the world didn’t have a material that could withstand his nitroglycerin when he ignited it.

You were incredible.

Bounding up to your feet eagerly, you didn’t give him any time to throw a tantrum that you had detached yourself from him as you begged for him to try them out.

“Hah?” He glowered. “You want me to use my quirk indoors?”

But he raised his hands anyway. You were always the one to enforce the rule of him not using his explosion inside, since it was destructive even with his fine control over it. You must’ve been really excited to see him try it out.

His palms popped with sparks at first and he raised an eyebrow as a cooling sensation kicked in automatically. Slowly, he built up his power until he fired a controlled AP cannon that shattered the vase from across the room.

You cheered and clapped your hands gleefully at how well it worked. It had changed blue when it activated, signaling that the cooling agent was doing its job.

Flexing his hands, Bakugou noticed how his arms weren't as sore as they normally were.

He took them off and turned it over in his hands, examining it closely. “How did you do it?”

You went on a rant, enthusiasm taking over every inch of your being as you eagerly explained how you created the material, a hybrid of some sort of elastic that could withstand high heats woven in with a cooling agent to soothe his muscles when they were overworked. The threads that made up the compression bands were fireproofed down to their molecular level, an expensive process but possible with the right amount of funds, along with a ton of time and patience.

All of which you had as you spent a huge chunk on the money you had saved up for this.

Your husband’s expression softened into something that vaguely resembled fondness as your eyes shone with excitement over your newest piece of tech. Specially made just for him.

Fuck, he was whipped.

Bakugou buried his face into your chest and you yelped in surprise, tugging his hair to pry him off of your body but he just groaned and stubbornly refused to move.

“Katuski!!” You protested, your hands shooting to the arms that were wrapped around your torso and pressing you close to him. “I’m dirty!!”

A blatant lie since you had bathed with him but you were desperate. This would inevitably end up in the bed if you didn’t push him off you right now.

You had been working in the shop all day to finish these up, just able to wrap the specialized compression sleeves in time before he came home. And because all of your clothes were currently being washed since there was an accident in your workshop a few days ago, you had to throw on your dirty tank top and cargo pants after scrubbing it as best as you could; and it was not the most appealing or flattering on your body.

It was clear your husband thought otherwise though.

“Don’t care.” Bakugou grumbled into your chest, his meaty hands going down to cup your butt.

You smacked his chest, telling him off, squeaking when he retaliated by squeezing your ass firmly. Rolling your eyes at the cheeky smirk on his face, you kissed his nose softly and his expression crumbled away to the softness that you knew had always lurked behind his guard.

“Happy birthday, Katsuki…” You whispered, a millimeter away from his lips. “I love you.”

You hadn’t even finished your declaration before his hand was snaking around the back of your neck, closing the distance in one go and crushing your mouth to his.

You whined as he dominated your mouth, his tongue demanding entrance. You decided to play with him a bit and kept your lips pursed. He growled at your disobedience and you shifted giddily in his lap, yelping when he nipped your bottom lip.

He groaned against your mouth as you ground your pelvis into his.

Bakugou thought this was going to go somewhere with how much you were teasing him but to his frustration, you climbed off of him, panting hard to catch your breath.

You winked. He knew that glint in your eyes.

“Catch me if you can!!” You shouted over your shoulder as you sprinted towards the living room and took refuge behind the couch.

“What the fuck….” He muttered under his breath, shaking his head at your childish antics as you raced out of view.

He stomped into the living room.

“Oi, get out from behind there, dumbass.” He growled.

When you didn’t reply, he rolled his eyes and tapped his foot impatiently.

“I know you’re there, shitty woman.” “He drawled. “I can see your fucking foot.”

Your indignant squeak made the corner of his mouth twitch in amusement but the look was quickly wiped off of his face as a foam bullet whizzed past his ear. You had just declared war.

A wide smirk spread across Bakugou’s face at the invitation of a challenge and forgoing his shirt, he sank low to the ground. He didn’t even bother to take one of the other guns where they were stored. He was going to beat you in hand to hand so easily it was going to be embarrassing.

“Just remember when you fucking lose,” He started, cracking his knuckles loudly. “Don’t come crying, dumbass.”

“I don’t cry— Hey!! That’s cheating!!”

Your confident reply broke out into a whine halfway through your sentence as Bakugou leaped over the couch and tackled you to the floor, pushing the gun away so you couldn’t shoot at him anymore.

“You’re such a fucking child.” He snorted, stealing a kiss from you before you could say anything.

“But you love me anyways~” You sang, repeating your declaration from earlier as you booped his nose softly.

Bakugou huffed indifferently, a proud smirk stretching across his face as his true feelings won over.

“Damn right I do.”

2K notes · View notes

waltnut · 3 years

Note

Hey!! Do you have any more lore ideas of the demon bros in their level 3/4 states? Your last post was really interesting!! :)

I do have some that’s kinda dark? Maybe even kind of NSFW-ish? I’m not sure how you’d categorize it but here it is anyway.

I’ve had this idea of when the “heat season” comes around and what is needed to be done to protect MC. This is in no way what I think happens EVERY TIME heat season comes around just an idea that I had in my head for a concept. I’ve read many wonderful Headcanons for the heat seasons for the brothers and they are all way more thought out than this lol.

The idea is that for MC’s protection, it has been tasked to keep the brothers locked up in their room or a specific location until the heat has passed. The scenario is that this is the first time MC has been there for it and Barbatos is explaining to them and showing them what is needed to be done. There are seals in every room to keep them from breaking out, for example. The seals are made for that specific demon and do not affect MC or other demons. Most of them are in Level 4 during this time but will phase into Level 3 to try to manipulate MC into letting their guard down. Each demon is given something to keep the desire at bay. If they stop receiving these things they will go into a rage.

Assume they are in Level 4 unless stated. This is specifically the brothers...Read more below.

Lucifer - Locked in his room

Mc is not allowed even on the same floor as Lucifer during this time. It is said his power and influence can affect a large radius and should you get too close, you will feel unconsciously drawn to him or where he is.

There is a seal on his door to keep him in.

You will hear nothing behind his door, it is as if no one is home.

He stalks around in his room in Level 4, with all his lights off. Ashamed of himself and his lack of control.

If he knows MC is close, or if he can no longer resist, he is able to project illusions of this form throughout the house to Lure MC or scare MC into heading closer to him. You would see these out of the corner of your eye, or red eyes in the shadows of a silhouette of a giant goat man.

Should MC enter his room, the seal does not react to humans and opening the door does not break the seal, MC will be stuck in here until it’s over. Have fun dealing with a scary goat demon in the dark.

Music is needed to keep him calm. If no music is played he will use his illusions more to terrorize others on the outside and become violent if approaching his physical form.

Mammon - Locked away in his room, in a secret cellar type room that is accessible only through his room. It’ll

To get to him, there is a door in the back of his room, that only appears for this season, magic or something. It leads down a spiral staircase where the walls are stone and you come to a large stone room that is lit by conches and it’s filled with gold and treasure and the like. It’s a dragon’s den. And it’s separated by a wall of decorative bars keeping MC on one side and the dragon on the other.

The seal is on the bars and touching the bars would repel him. But MC can touch them and stick a hand through.

He lays on his treasure and gold objects which will stick to his leathery parts on his wings and the underside of his tail and belly.

Nests of treasures, tapestry and fancy rugs are also used as paddings for his nests. There are items from ancient times, which you could only assume he’s had for centuries and his hoard has only grown since then.

If MC enters this chamber he will transform to level 3 and offer his treasures to them. He will also pout and guilt to keep MC there with him.

Treasure is given to him every hour to keep him happy. He transforms back into level 4 in a fit and will destroy his piles of treasures out of anger and upset if they choose to leave him.

If MC chooses to stay, he will dress them in his treasures and make nests for them.

Leviathan - Sealed in his large aquarium tank. Did you think it was built for the fishes?

The only light source comes from the fish tank and TVs. You can see a giant dark mass inside the tank wrapping around everything inside. It has pulsating glowing orange orbs on its form.

There are Tv’s set up in front of the glass. A lot of them. All of them are anime. There are also a lot of plushies floating in the water. To keep him company, Barbatos would say. These objects keep him calm.

If MC approaches he will turn into Level 3 and press himself against the glass with the most sad eyes. He will use words to manipulate MC into feeling guilty for him being alone and to stay there with him and watch all the shows.

If you stay too long in this room you will hear an eerie whale type song in the back of your mind. It seems to make you dizzy and makes you want to stay with him. Maybe you just might jump in the water. Who needs to breathe anyway? He probably has a solution for that.

If MC chooses to leave he will turn back into Level 4 sea monster and wail the saddest deep sea song and slam his huge body against the glass. Hopefully it stays in tact.

Satan - Locked in his room.

A green glowing wall seal separates the door area from the rest of his room. It has a shimmering flame affect but you can see through it.

His room is trashed. Books ripped to shreds, book cases fallen over, small flecks of green flame and ash are scattered on the piles.

He remains in Level 4 even if MC is in the room. And he is not nice. He is mean. He will scream and yell and swear profanities at them, and especially Barbatos since Barbatos will not let Mc go alone. He will say down right terrible things out of anger and frustration.

If MC expresses any type of upset, it’s possible Satan might notice. If he does, he will lower his voice and approach. He will apologize and begin to try to convince Mc to stay with him and read all the books.

If he is refused he will slam on the sealed wall furiously and monstrous screaming continues. His flames in his body are strong and bright.

Books are given to him every half hour as well as audiobooks of plays from every language to keep him calm.

Asmodeus - Sealed in his room, but an altered version of reality.

His room is separated by a clear glass wall with an invisible seal. On the other side there are mirrors everywhere. It’s like a fun house with how they are not in any uniform pattern. Some are cracked and broken.

There is pillows and blankets and a giant bed where there isn’t mirrors.

The mirrors are used to keep his morale low, showing his reflection in his level 4 state causes a depression to keep him from wanting to pursue others, as he is the avatar of Lust and is the most insatiable during this season.

If MC is in the room, he will actually scream and refuse for them to see him. If MC can convince for Asmodeus to show himself, he will come close to the glass barrier and black tear lines would be streaming down his face.

He will show himself in Level 3 to them to convince MC to stay and keep him company. Something about wanting to see them from every angle with all these mirrors?

If refused he will start to break the mirrors around him. The magically repair themselves eventually.

Other demons like succubi/incubi are sent to him to keep his appetite lower. But he will always prefer MC over them.

Beelzebub - Locked in a giant meat freezer storage near the kitchen.

It’s very cold in here, and there are animal carcasses hanging from meat hooks everywhere. Even things you never seen before. It’s a large cold room with tile.

Bars separate you from the monster in the middle of the room. He sits on a pile of meat and flesh, sounds of tearing can be heard. But also the raffling of chains. The bars are not enough to hold him. There are seals on the bars and metal cuffs attached to his wrists and ankles.

Steam can be seen coming off the monster form Beelzebub.

Once MC enters, he will come launch himself towards them but the chains catch him and hold him away. Barbatos will allow MC to throw him some meat but to use a rod to stick it through, like some zoo keeper feeding a lion.

It was said they didn’t start using the chains until one time he broke out and went on a feeding spree. I won’t get into details about that.

He speaks in very few words. “Closer.” Or “Stay.” are usually what he’ll snort at MC. He stares at them, licking his lips. You don’t know if it’s lust or hunger or both.

He doesn’t put up much a fuss if MC leaves, as the food is enough to occupy him.

Food fed to him by the hundreds is needed to keep him from raging.

Belphegor - Locked back up in the attic.

There is a wall of black smoke/fog that hides the rest of the room. It has light flecks off white in them, like stars.

Red eyes stare at you from inside the fog. They disappear and reappear somewhere else.

Barbatos tells you to not touch the smoke. Do not. Ever. Touch the smoke.

Level 3 arms of Belphie can reach out from the smoke to grab you.

His voice is soft and sweet but his words are not. He tells you he is always with you when you sleep. He can see your dreams. He is in them. It’s the way he says these things that are unsettling.

He can disperse the fog enough to show himself to you. He can change the fog to look like space and galaxies to entice MC to want to stay and experience it.

He will guilt trip MC, saying they’re the reason he’s here and they owe him. They need to make it up to him. He can forgive them if they stay.

If he is refused, a wave of tiredness will wash over MC. Barbatos must always accompany them and he is able to take them away before anything happens.

Incense smoke is needed to keep him calm and sedated.

Now you may be thinking...What about Barbatos?? Isn’t he affected by the season?? To that he replies...

“Oh yes, but my constitution is much stronger than the rest.”

Then perhaps you may be wondering about Lord Diavolo. To which he replies...

“It’s best you don’t set foot in the castle. Better yet, just stay in here in the house, where it’s much safer.”

#text post #monster boyfriend #obey me headcanons #long post #obey me

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rainydaydream-gal18 · 3 years

Text

(The Bad Batch) Crosshair x Reader: Chilly

Warnings: blizzard, cold, Crosshair being grumpy for thirty seconds, some cuddles, and some kissy-kissy.

Your teeth chattered and body shuddered in futile attempts to warm itself. Even though the fire your rescuer had built emanated warmth, you hadn’t felt much of a change in the last several minutes laying in the cold sleeping bag beside it. The rickety ice-fishing shelter was a haven from the snowstorm outside, but you weren’t out of the woods yet, so to speak.

Getting lost in a blizzard during a mission sure had its downsides. You were fortunate that Crosshair had found you when he did.

Speaking of the man, you glanced up as Crosshair ducked into the doorway, pulling the wooden door shut behind him. He removed his helmet and set it down on the icy floor before throwing another log onto the fire. The roar of its flames was so pleasant. An ache settled in your cold hands as you let them hover in range of the warmth. You almost didn’t notice how Crosshair started removing his armor. Almost.

“Cross, w-what are you d-d-doing?”

Without looking at you, he unbuckled the last of his armor until he was just in his blacks and boots. “I commed the others to report that I found you. Tech said you were exposed to the cold for too long.”

“Sure f-feels like it,” you muttered. “What d-d-do we do?”

“We need to get you warm.” With expression gruff, he climbed over until he was right beside your sleeping bag and peeled back the cover. His intense gaze watched you expectantly. “Take off a few layers.”

“O-okay.” This time, the stutter wasn’t from the teeth-chattering. You reached up a cold hand to the collar of your heavy coat, fingers fumbling around the zipper. The action was difficult as it was with your hands being numbed from the cold, but having him watch you like a hawk didn’t help.

“Quickly,” he snapped.

“Sorry, i-it’s a little hard to move.”

He sighed, but despite his earlier display of impatience, his hand was gentle as he pushed yours away and set to work on removing your coat. He helped you shrug your way out of it. You were able to pull the sweater off over your head, leaving you in the tank top and pair of leggings you had underneath your gear. Goosebumps bloomed along the bare skin of your arms, and another shudder racked your body.

Crosshair wasted no time in climbing into the sleeping bag, pulling the cover up over the both of you, though he hesitated when you drew closer to his lean form. You were desperate for warmth at that point, but you didn’t want to make it too uncomfortable for him.

You peeked up at him shyly from where your head rested against his chest. “M-mind if I…?”

“Do what you need to.”

You shifted to tangle your legs with his and breathed a sigh of relief. Your one arm wrapped around his torso, hand accidentally brushing a patch of skin left exposed by the hem of his blacks riding up. He jolted from your ice-cold touch with a hiss.

“Sorry,” you mumbled. Your heart began to thud wildly when he reached for your hand and tucked it under his blacks to place it on the hot skin there. “Thank you,” you breathed. Crosshair fidgeted for a moment as he got used to the temperature.

Neither of you spoke, so you listened to the soothing sounds around you as your body began to heat up. The campfire crackled and snapped nearby. It cast shadows on the old walls of the shelter. If you listened hard enough, the howling winds outside could be heard. What fascinated you the most was the steady drumming of Crosshair’s heart inside his chest. His breathing hadn’t slowed, signalling that he wasn’t completely relaxed.

You hated the thought of making him uneasy. Over the time you’d spent with the Bad Batch, the snarky sharpshooter had grown on you. Well, he wasn’t always snarky. He sometimes acted like that when it came to newcomers, or once in a while he’d throw in a sarcastic remark to tease his brothers. Most of the time, he was just quiet. You had learned to read his body language, and you could tell at the moment that something occupied his mind.

“You okay?” You were finally able to stop the chatter of your teeth.

“Next time, report back to the ship when you’re told,” he grouched. “We didn’t know what to do when we lost connection to your comm. Hunter nearly had a heart attack.”

That was Crosshair code for, “I nearly had a heart attack.”

“I tried,” you argued. “My comm was broken, remember? I couldn’t hone in on the ship’s signal. My tracks were snowed over, and I got lost.”

Crosshair went silent again for a moment as he brooded over it. There really hadn’t been much you could do after escaping the snow beast other than remain where you were and hope the others would find you. So that’s what you did.

“Perhaps next time you should let one of us come with you,” he said curtly.

He did have a point there. Maybe if you hadn’t gone off alone in the first place, things might’ve turned out differently. But you had insisted that you didn’t need to be watched.

Oh, the sweet irony.

Crosshair huffed, seeing that he had won the argument. His chest rose and fell with the action. As much as you wanted to be irritated, you didn’t have it in you. Not while you were laying in his arms with your face buried in the shoulder of his blacks. Guilt seemed to be the only emotion other than relief that you were capable of at the moment.

“I’m sorry.”

The apology was quiet, laced with humility as you abandoned your pride and simply let yourself be grateful. Crosshair had braved the snowstorm to find you, after all. He was doing everything he could to make sure you were safe, allowing you to cling to him with ice-cold hands and feet by the fire.

He shifted a little, draping an arm around you. Despite the fact that you were already pressed against him, the action felt more intimate. He was finally holding you in return, actively helping you to get warm. You took it as his way of accepting the apology, and fortunately, he didn’t stay on the topic any longer.

“Are you doing any better?” he asked, glancing down at you. His eyes didn’t hold the same irritation as before. They even softened a bit as you met them.

“Yeah, much better,” you said. “It’s nice to be able to feel my fingers again.” You flexed the digits experimentally against his skin, and Crosshair’s breath hitched. His arm had subconsciously tightened around you. The unexpected reaction piqued your interest. This time, you let your hand run just a little farther up past the hem of his blacks. Crosshair inhaled suddenly.

“Does that bother you?” you murmured, glancing up to try and read his expression. Though his face showed the same indifference it usually did, his eyes met yours with smoldering intensity.

“No.”

Without breaking eye contact, you did it again, letting your hand roam farther up his side. You felt the expansion of his ribcage as he inhaled deeply. As it contracted, you released a breath that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. For several minutes, the two of you stayed like that. Your palm smoothed across the length of his side, fingertips brushing over a few prominent scars. Your skin had gone from cold to warm to searing in Crosshair’s arms. Did he feel it too? Did he notice the pounding in your chest? His heart had picked up its speed.

He studied your expression like a hawk as his hand came up to brush your shoulder. It was a light touch, delicate, as if he was testing the waters. His eyes flickered to the spot before returning to your gaze. The tension was unmistakable.

Unavoidable.

Irresistible.

Crosshair took in your reaction; how your eyes fluttered closed and how lips parted slightly. You were completely at ease with his touch, and you could feel that he had finally relaxed into yours. With eyes shut, you felt his hand run down the length of your arm. His warm breath fanned your face.

“Cross,” you sighed.

Both of you had pulled the rubber band as far as it could go. With your utterance of his name, it finally snapped, and his mouth was on yours. Heat exploded in your chest at the realization that he was kissing you. The hand that you let linger at his waist clenched around his blacks. Crosshair shifted to lean on his elbow, bracing his other arm beside your head on the pillow, as he kissed you harder. He could appear cold, calculated...but his kisses weren’t. They were scorching.

When you separated, so many questions flew through your mind as he gazed at you.

Was this a dream? Why, oh why, did his lips feel so warm and good against yours? Was this a slip-up, or did he feel for you the way you felt for him?

Only one way to find out.

“I care about you, Crosshair,” you confessed. He didn’t withdraw from you or give a look of annoyance, which was a good sign. It was only when he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead that you fully understood. You beamed and nuzzled farther into the crook of his neck as he got settled on his side again. The sleeping bag had become a cocoon of warmth, though his arms still encircled you for good measure.

His heartbeat had gone steady. His breathing slowed. And you relished the minutes of peace until the storm cleared and the others were sure to find you.

#crosshair x reader #bad batch x reader #the bad batch reader insert #crosshair reader insert #crosshair x y/n #the bad batch crosshair x reader #bad batch crosshair #crosshair imagine #bad batch reader insert #crosshair x you

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parker-razor · 3 years

Text

show me, feel me, teach me - ch. 4

previous // next

series masterlist!

female!reader x mando

word count: 2.8k

series summary: during a drinking game, you let slip that you don’t know much about sex. mando offers to show you what you’ve been missing, and you happily accept.

warnings: smut that’s so filthy it’s insane (extended warnings under the cut), lotssss of fluff, mentions of insecurities

a/n: today’s the first day i didn’t have to work in awhile and i had to write some more... this chapter in particular made me all blushy so lemme grab my vibrator real quick

extended warnings: somnophilia, oral (m and f receiving), thigh riding, grinding, cum eating, masturbation, multiple orgasms

*****

You watched Mando as he hauled the heavy, limp bounty up the ramp of the ship. You had offered to help, but Mando, ever the gentleman, refused. So, you and the kid watched him drag the lifeless body into the Crest, and into carbonite.

Apparently, Mando had gotten so excited to see you when he made it back to the ship last night that he abandoned the body at the foot of the ship and scurried inside and into your quarters. It wasn’t like the body was going anywhere, Mando had argued. He just needed to see you.

After your little… chat over the comm, Mando was still rearing to be with you. As soon as you had fallen asleep at the end of your call, he jumped to his feet and continued on his hunt at a speed he had yet to hunt at. He had thought that after getting some of his drive for you out of his system that he could rest for a while before he kept hunting. But just the opposite happened; hearing your voice, your moans, the way your words hit him right in the chest… Maker he just had to get back to you.

He couldn’t help himself when he saw you splayed out on your bed. Your tank top was almost see through, and you only had a pair of underwear on as bottoms. He just needed a taste.

After he quietly stripped his armor and clothes off him, he gently pulled your underwear down to your knees and knelt down on the bed. He must’ve not smelled too great after days of hunting, but he was too drunk on your presence to be self-conscious.

He couldn’t stop himself from delving between your thighs, making out with your dripping cunt. It must have still been wet from your earlier orgasm, or maybe you were dreaming of him. Maker, he hoped you were.

You were asleep, so it didn’t totally matter if he tasted you with any technique or rhythm. Flicking your clit with no real purpose other than to have your taste in his mouth, to have his tongue flooded with your essence. His cock hardened at an ungodly rate, and he couldn’t help but start stroking himself fast. He didn’t care about his pleasure, or frankly your pleasure; he just wanted to taste you.

All the sudden, he heard you speak up, and you were coming into his mouth with a vengeance, and he came all over his hand with you.

He didn’t want to bother you too much, so he figured one orgasm was enough (for now). He crawled up to you, kissing your shoulders and your neck and your cheeks. You had no doubt fallen back to sleep by then, and Mando was overwhelmed with sleep as well. He drifted off with his head rested on your chest, your hands carded through his curls as his breathing slowed.

Mando had never been with a woman like he had been with you. Sure, he hadn’t technically been with you in the biblical sense just yet, but this was so different. He had had one-night stands when he had time to spare on a hunt, some girl in a bar who gawked at his armor who he figured would be willing to let him get his frustrations out. A grateful damsel he saved, who was coincidentally being attacked by the bounty he was tracking. Not many women, but enough to know just what he was doing and just how to make someone writhe in pleasure.

But you… you were radiant.

Your beauty was unconventional; your skin rolled around your waist, your stomach hung over just a little with stretch marks littering your inner thighs and hips. When you slept, your neck folded into little rolls. But Mando adored all of it. Not in a patronizing way, but because you were truly just gorgeous. Not despite of your flaws, but because of them. They weren’t flaws to Mando, they were just what made you more and more perfect.

Many of the women he had been with exaggerated their pleasure. It wasn’t fake, just turned up a bit because they figured it would make Mando more confident. Mando hated that, when women would be dramatic when displaying their pleasure. You never did that, though. Your sounds were… primal. Like you were trying to hold them in, but you felt so good that you couldn’t help it. They were involuntary grunts, yells, and gasps. Just the memory of it made Mando hard under his armor.

Not to mention, you had never felt this way before. You didn’t know that there was an expectation for women to be loud and exaggerated in bed. The sounds you made were all you, and that is what got to Mando most.

Mando was pulled out of his daydreams as you approached him, feeling around his arms and shoulders.

“Do you have any cuts? What do you need treated? We don’t have a ton of bacta kits left, but if you really need it then-“

“I’m okay, I’m not hurt. Just a little bruised. All I want is some food and to hang out with you and the kid.”

You and Mando had grown accustomed to eating or drinking back-to-back since the drinking game that started all of this. It was better than Mando locking himself away in his quarters; he hadn’t shared a meal with someone in years. But being able to chat with you and enjoy his food was a luxury.

“What did this guy do?” you asked as you munched on some bread and cheese.

“No clue. They never really tell me, which I kinda get. A lot of these guys are scum bags, they should be ashamed,” Mando responded, taking a sip of water.

“Did this one put up a fight?”

“At first, but then he realized he couldn’t beat me.” You shivered for a moment, thinking about Mando’s strength. You knew the armor added another layer to make him seem bigger and stronger, but even without it he was built. He didn’t have a six-pack, he wasn’t totally shredded, but Maker, was he strong. His arms, his chest, his broad fucking shoulders, they made you needy. You had seen him knock out a man in one punch, some guy who had grabbed your ass at a bar. You didn’t know at the time why you felt an ache between your legs when you saw that, but now you do after your lessons.

After you had both eaten and fed Grogu, Mando decided it was time to depart to catch his second bounty. You grabbed any gear still lingering outside the ship, secured any loose weapons, and in no time Mando was preparing to take off. You were off to Naboo this time, a planet you had been dying to visit. Almost all of the planets Mando had taken you to were either barren or covered in buildings, large urban areas. Naboo was green, apparently, with beautiful buildings and cascading waterfalls. You couldn’t wait.

Mando sat in the pilot’s chair as you sat behind him in the passenger’s seat. Grogu, still exhausted from the three-day strike on sleep, snoozed in his enclosed pram in the captain’s quarters. So it was just you and Mando…

It was a bumpy takeoff; although Mando was a great pilot, the Crest wasn’t exactly shiny and new. The ship left Tattoine’s atmosphere, and after a few minutes of cruising in empty space, Mando put the ship into hyperspace.

It was quiet as Mando hit some random buttons and you watched the stars fly by you at an insane speed. You thought about last night, not remembering much other than coming hard. Were you dreaming? You remember waking to Mando’s arms around your waist and his face buried in your chest, but everything during the night was a blur.

“When… when you came back last night, did you fall right to sleep? Or did you-“

“Eat your pussy? Yeah, I just wanted to taste you. I hope that’s okay.” You gulped, slightly shocked at Mando’s bluntness. You were only really used to hearing him talk dirty while in the act, not him bringing it up so casually. You squirmed a bit in your seat, causing Mando to turn back to look at you.

“What, you like that? You like that I couldn’t wait for you to wake up before I tasted your cum? Yeah, I bet you do, pretty girl,” he rasped, making you whine and your legs clench together.

“Why don’t you come sit?”

“I’m… already sitting, Mando.”

“No, come sit over here, with me. On me.” Stars.

You rose from your seat as Mando turned his chair to face you so you’d have room to sit without the control panel in the way. His legs spread, and he sat back in his chair with his arms resting on his knees. Kriff, he looked so fucking good.

You weren’t sure how Mando wanted you to sit on him, so you straddled one of his thighs, gasping as the hard metal plate met your core.

“Oh, is that what you want, sweet thing? You wanna sit on my thigh?”

“Yeah Mando, can I please?”

“Of course, baby, just wasn’t expecting you to sit on me like that.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself in closer to him. As you moved closer, you couldn’t ignore the way it felt when you rubbed yourself on his armored thigh. It felt fucking good, the same friction you felt when Mando would use his fingers on you. Out of instinct, you couldn’t help but do it again.

“Oh fuck, is my good girl gonna grind on my thigh? Does that feel good?” You whined, Mando’s hands grasping your hips to encourage your movements. “Go ahead, baby, get yourself off on me. Take what’s yours.”

“M-Mando… feels s-so good…” Your hips sped up as the friction continued to nurse the ache growing in your cunt.

“Want it to feel better, honey? Here, let me show you,” Mando groaned, lifting you so you were planted not on his thigh, but directly over his crotch. He wasn’t wearing a codpiece, you didn’t expect him to when all he was doing was flying. So you gasped when you felt his hard cock rub up against you cunt.

“Oh, s-stars, Mando, I like this a lot…”

“Yeah? You like feeling my cock rub on you? Go ahead, grind on it, make yourself feel good.” His grip on your hips were bruising as you ground your pussy hard onto his crotch. The head of his cock nudged itself right against your clit between your clothes, making your eyes cross and hands grasp at Mando’s shoulders.

“Oh, I bet that feels s-so good, pretty girl, it feels good for m-me too… Fuck, I can feel how wet you are, it’s seeping through my pants. Keep going, you’re doing so good for me.”

Your moans got louder and louder, sounding out as “uh uhs.” Your eyebrows creased together, and Mando grabbed your cheeks to tilt your eyes down towards his.

“Look at me, baby, let me see you when you cum. Let me look into your eyes. Maker, your p-pussy is so wet, I can feel it. Come on baby I know you wanna cum, go ahead and cum.” You were shouting now, your moans echoing in the cockpit. This was the closest the two of you had gotten to fucking, and the idea of Mando’s cock being so close to your cunt sent you over the edge.

Warmth flooded you, and your legs shook violently as you came. Your thighs clenched over and over around his hips, keeping your eyes right on his visor.

“Fuck, Mando, fuck fuck, Mando, Mando!”

“Yeah, that’s it, good girl. So f-fucking good for me.” As you came down, you noticed Mando was still hard. And you still wanted him.

“Can… Can I have you? In my mouth?”

“Shit, baby, you want me to cum in your mouth?”

“Please, Mando, want you to feel good. Want your cock down my throat.” You shakily climbed off his lap and knelt to the ground. Your hands trembled as they came up to his pants, tugging at the waistband until his cock sprung up against his armor. You looked at the thigh you had just been grinding on, and saw there was a wet spot staining his armor. It made you want to cum again.

“I’m not gonna last long baby, already so close,” Mando rasped out, his chest heaving up and down in anticipation.

“I don’t care, I just need you to tell me what to do.”

“Gladly, sweet girl. Start by licking the tip, yeah just like that.” You flicked the bead of precum leaking from Mando’s cock, his taste flooding your mouth. You swirled your tongue around the tip, eventually licking down his shaft. You had almost forgotten how big he was… almost.

“Fuck, you’re doing so good. Y-You want to put it in your mouth now? You got this, baby, take it nice and- oh f-fuck me.” Your actions interrupted Mando’s train of thought, his cock entering the warm wet of your mouth. You weren’t totally sure what to do from there; Mando had just said he wanted his cock in your mouth, so now what?

“Okay, baby, you know how you stroked my cock with your hand the other day? Just do the same with your mouth, and suck while you do it. G-gonna do so well for me, I know it.” You did as he said, and his reaction was instantaneous. He moaned out so loud you’d think the whole ship could hear it. It finally hit you that Mando’s cock was in your mouth, and stars if that didn’t make a new wave of wetness flood your inner thighs. You couldn’t stop yourself from pushing your hand down your pants, rubbing your clit like Mando taught you as you sucked on him.

“H-Holy shit, baby, are you touching yourself? You rubbing that little clit? Do I make you that wet, pretty one? F-Fuck you’re doing so good, feels so good. Y-You’re a natural…” His words made you moan around his cock, the vibrations making his hips buck up into your mouth. For a second he was worried he’d gone too far, until you pushed your head down even further.

“Fuck, such a g-good girl for me, g-gonna cum in your m-mouth, d-don’t stoppp.” You sucked hard at the tip as your fingers circled faster on your clit, and you were already falling over the edge. Mando’s cum flooded your mouth as he moaned out your name, and his taste made you writhe on your fingers, white flooding your vision. The whines around Mando’s cock as you came made his orgasm last even longer, leaving him totally breathless. It took him a moment to realize that you were still probably holding his cum in your mouth, causing him to jump up and come to your aid.

“Shit, baby, here’s a rag, you can-“ He was stopped short when he noticed you breathing heavily below you, mouth agape and… empty.

“Wait, what did you do with…”

“I swallowed it. I like how you taste,” you whined, totally out of breath and fucked out. Mando’s head hit the back of his seat in awe of how hot you were, swallowing his cum the first time you took him in your mouth, just because you liked it.

“Fuck, come here, baby. Come sit in my lap, let me love on you.” You clambered up into his lap with shaky legs, overwhelmed with the amount of dopamine that flooded your brain. You were still trying to catch your breath as you rested your head on his shoulder as he rubbed your back. These were the moments you held with you when Mando was gone; his comforting touch, how gentle he was despite the damage you knew he could do. You kissed the sliver of skin that peaked out between his collar and his helmet, at which he pulled you in closer to his chest.

All the sudden you heard a crash from below the cockpit and a loud wail… Grogu.

*****

tag list: @niiight-dreamerrrr @ajeff855 @ohhersheybars @sleep-tight1 @jefferson-in-the-tardis @constanzee @halerune @liltangerineart @thewintersoldierswife @ah-callie @witchy-ana @chibi @greyteacup @justanotherblonde23 @hotsauceonabiscuit @pcrushinnerd @altarsw @nerd-without-a-cause @yajairaholmes @stardust-kenobi

#the mandalorian smut #mandalorian fanfic #mando x reader #the mandalorian #mandalorian fluff #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars smut #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #din djarin fan fiction #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin smut #din djarin fluff

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kikilefangirl · 4 years

Text

Safety Net

Steve Rogers x Reader

(Word Count: 1.7k)

It was dark, but you knew movement on your property when you saw it.

Your grip on your gun tightened as you stared into the black abyss in front of you. The sound of footsteps crunching across your grass was off—different pairs of feet hitting the ground at different times. You counted more than three.

The gun wasn’t ideal. It was too much of a spectacle for the occasion. You pulled a knife out of its sheath, and sliced it through the air. You stuffed the gun into the waistband of your shorts, and crouched down. Thankfully, the intruders were too far to hear the slight groan of the floorboards under your bare feet. But they were too close for your liking.

In a strange stroke of fate, one of them moved recklessly, sprinting towards your front porch. You sprung into action, launching at them from the shadows.

You sliced a nice sized gash on the right leg. The pain caused an audible male groan, causing him to falter long enough to take advantage and place a knife to the man’s throat.

He stilled at the cold metal on his carotid.

“Y’all are either stupid, arrogant, or desperate to come here!” You called out. Your voice carried out into the darkness and the footsteps ceased. Your hostage didn’t dare struggle against you for fear of death, but how much his crew cared was unknown.

“Y/N, stand down.”

A red sphere of light formed, and none other than Steve Rogers stepped forward, bathed in its glow. You lowered the knife and your hostage bolted towards his companions.

Your focus never left Steve as you surveyed his group. The light came from the girl beside him, while none other than Bucky Barnes was on his other one.

“I have spare beds and medical supplies for your friends down in the bunker. Second door on the right.” You stated.

One by one you let Steve’s team pass you, with varying looks of venom and curiosity. When it came time to let the man himself inside, he spoke.

“Y/N, I know this—”

You cut him off with a hand in his chest.

“Not tonight, Rogers.”

You turned on your heel and left the large man standing in the doorway.

...

Strangely enough, you slept soundly for the rest of the night.

You woke up just before dawn and began cooking for your guests. If they were worth anything battle wise, Steve’s team would be up soon. You started on breakfast. Grits, sausage, the works. You imagined it had been some time since they had a proper meal. You felt eyes on your back, and chose to ignore them.

“We had nowhere else to go.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, you stiffened and stirred the grits harder. Although your back was to him, you heard the floor groan under his weight. He couldn’t have been much more than a few feet away.

“You gonna look at me?” Steve asked you. His tone was low and deep.

You clicked your tongue and turned the burner down. You still had on your short shorts, tank top, and no bra from the night before. Your headscarf was wrapped around your head, a weapon just in reaching distance. You came around slowly, schooling your features into a blank expression.

“Thank you, for letting us stay.” He said.

When you finally took him in, Steve was as captivating as he was when you saw him the first time. His hair was a shaggy mess on top of his head, though. And he’d grown a beard. His eyes however, were full of the same dutiful gaze you remembered.

“You came here for sanctuary, I’m giving it.”

Don’t ask me for more.

Steve frowned and put his hand on his hips.

“Y/N. What do you want me to say?” He pleaded. You ran your tongue across your front teeth. Before you could respond, the girl from the night before emerged from the bunker.

“I’m Wanda, thank you for your hospitality.” She said. You softened at her somewhat haggard appearance. Her clothes were ripped in places, and her hair wasn’t combed out. You’d come across her file before, but only in passing.

“I just washed some towels and I’ve got fresh clothes in my closet for you, if you want ‘em.” You knew what it was like to be a woman on the run, surrounded by nothing but men. Wanda lit up at your offer and thanked you, slipping into a language you didn’t speak. You nodded and she left.

As soon as the bathroom door clicked shut, you stalked over to Steve, whose eyes had never left you.

“Tell your friends breakfast is ready.” You ordered. Steve nodded.

His hand came up to your cheek, and you could feel the rough calluses against your skin. All you wanted to do was close your eyes and melt. To keep Steve Rogers to yourself and stay in your hideaway.

He was a soldier—dutifully watching over those who couldn’t defend themselves. You were entirely different. You had been fucked over by enough people, enough times to know better. Why Steve didn’t, you had no clue.

You stepped back and folded your arms together.

“We get to work on game plans after breakfast. I’ll cash in some favors and see how far that’ll get y’all.” You told him.

The rest of Steve’s team was beginning to file into the kitchen. Steve held your hand, and the sudden warmth in front of everyone caught you off guard. Instinctively, you bristled at the contact.

You pointed Sam to a plate you made him, as a sort of apology for your misunderstanding. He gave a half smile and nodded in thanks.

“Listen up. Y’all got a week to get the hell out my house and plan your next moves. Meet me downstairs when y’all are done.” You announced. Without sparing Steve a glance, you promptly exited.

...

“Your best bet is a big city. I can get you passage from here to Cape Town, but after that you’re on your own.” You explained.

A chorus of tentative approval came from Steve’s group, but he hadn’t said anything yet. His eyes were glued to the different screens and maps.

“What if we went the back way. Get in by land and make our way to the coast.” He offered. You squinted, following his logic and trying to find truth in it.

“Waterways are crawling with authorities, legal or not. Y’all want that heat without a solid exit?” You pondered out loud. Steve was staring at you in complete earnest and everybody knew it.

“Plenty of blinds spots if we get enough distractions in the meantime.” He countered.

“I’m not keeping you safe here just for you to take bigger risks.” You said firmly.

The two of you were battle hardened strategists with too much history and a lot of unfinished business. Sam groaned from the other side of the bunker, cutting through your standoff.

“I, uh, need help in the kitchen. Y’all come help.” He called out. One by one, Steve’s team excused themselves with varying levels of awkwardness. Then it was just you and Steve in the bunker.

“I think that was intentional.” You joked. Steve placed his hands on his hips and sighed.

“Probably because you haven’t looked me in the eyes since we got here.” He replied.

“I’m not the one trying to get myself killed, Steve. You are. So don’t blame me for not wanting to look at the dead man walking.”

Your words hung in the air and a long silence followed.

“Come with me.” He said at last.

You scoffed, knowing full well you were retired. You had absolutely no desire to get back out in the field out of sheer self preservation. Steve talked a big game about love and a future, but he was in no shape or form willing to hang up the shield for it.

The two of you were at an impasse. Then Steve did the unexpected: he punched the wall.

It was a relatively controlled impact, but your house wasn’t built to sustain a super soldier’s outburst. An outburst that was a rarity in itself. Steve chest heaved less from effort and more from frustration. His jaw kept clenching and unclenching as he tried to keep it together. Dust from the wall coated his fist, and a solid chunk of cement dropped to the floor.

“I can feel something coming. I don’t––I don’t know what it is yet, but I feel it.” He said at last.

You made no move to approach the blonde, just waiting for him to finish processing the wave of emotions on his face. That was what you liked most about Steve. He never hid when he was angry or sad or lonely; his openness was a welcome change for you.

And this time it was more serious than it had ever been. You swallowed hard and made a beeline for the console. Punching in the code, a small chamber on the far side of the wall appeared, revealing the one thing you never thought you’d ever need again.

“Nat got one suit, I got another,” you started, meeting Steve’s eyes for the first time. A haunting uncertainty stared back at you.

You clasped your hand in Steve’s, gripping tight enough to turn the tips of your fingers white.

“I trust you, Rogers.” You admitted. You looked straight ahead at the suit, but you weren’t really there. You imagined the action you would see in it, and how devastating this phantom battle would be. A growing pit in your stomach nagged at you, Steve’s foreboding presence had fully transferred to you.

Something wet hit your cheeks. Tears to brace yourself, tears to mourn the peace you had here, and warmth. Steve wiped them away as they came, cradling your face with his free hand.

You craved the closeness––it was a string of touch and breath and skin the both of you lost in isolation, but found in each other. A new day was coming and you needed to be by his side when it did.

“I like the beard look.” You whispered. Steve snorted, but promised to keep it just for you. And the calm you felt with him was enough and would always be enough.

#black!reader #poc!reader #marvel mcu #steve rogers x black!reader #steve rogers x poc!reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #slightly pre infinity war #nomad steve #nomad steve x reader #bearded steve rogers #nomad Steve hits different #woc!reader #steve rogers angst #mostly happy ending

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thevictorianghost · 4 years

Note

If you could rewrite legend of korra and make it your own(or just in general better) how would you do it? The villains would stay the same and korra and crew are the same(personalities you can definitely tweak a bit. I would definitely not have any love triangles and make korra and asami happen in the beginning) how would you do it with your ships being canon as well?

Okay so I’ve never actually watched LOK. I’ve heard A LOT about it through watching countless video essays on Youtube and reading Tumblr posts about it. I know the who, the what and the how, I just haven’t wanted to watch it because, even though it looks cinematically gorgeous, the story was written by Bry/ke and there’s a LOT of it, worldbuilding and storywise, that I just can’t bare to watch.

So here goes. This got long. Enjoy!

1) Remove the Decopunk world.

A Decopunk world is a world where technology is 1920s-ish, but very advanced. We have cars, tanks, radio, bobs and faux bobs, cloche hats, short skirts, nice suits, etc. I adore Decopunk. The 1920s are one of my favourite eras. An optimistic way of looking at the world, partying, illegal alcohol, the remnants of the Great War... I love it. I really do. But it doesn’t work in the pre-established world of Avatar. It brings elements that are far too imperialistic and colonial in nature (which prompted the comics to be imperialistic and colonial in nature, with the Northern and Southern Water Tribe, you can find many posts about that), which came along hand in hand with the Industrial Revolution, as this article puts it so well. Please read it, it’s awesome.

Why did they feel they had to denature Avatar’s world? They already had everything they could possibly want.

The Fire Nation could be more Steampunk, which is a little less advanced than Decopunk (First Industrial Revolution vs Second Industrial Revolution) because there were elements of Steampunk in the Fire Nation Army (such as the tanks, the navy and the dirigibles). But it could be for them only. It could show us how Zuko transformed the Fire Nation from a war industry to a steam-powered country. This could be the new way to channel firebending (and please, no more “anyone can do lightning bending”, you don’t need lightning bending to get electricity and it makes Zuko, Iroh, Ozai and Azula weak in the show!).

We’ve seen waterbending used in clever ways in the Northern Water Tribe. How could Katara’s waterbending and Sokka’s engineering influence the Southern Water Tribe to make them use waterbending more? Canals, waterfalls, waterways, etc.? In new and different ways? Could the Southern Water Tribe use hydroelectricity, but in a clean, sustainable way? Why does the Southern Water Tribe port look so... mundane?

The Earth Kingdom already had a working train system in Ba Sing Se. And the postal system in Omashu. Toph could have taught earthbenders how to follow the Badgermoles way and dug tunnels throughout a nation in peace. Then boom. Subways. But instead of machines pushing the people along, you can have benders do it. Instead of messenger hawks, the postal system could run through the entire kingdom instead of just Omashu and be much more efficient. The Earth Kingdom could be praised for its fast postal system that could, maybe, work as telegrams.

I’ll come back to the Air Nomads.

Those are just examples from the top of my head. I don’t mean “never allow technology to “””progress””” (I use that word veeeeery loosely because it has huge imperialistic undertones). I mean instead of trashing the fun parts of bending to make way for Decopunk technology that doesn’t need bending, work with it! Get creative! This worldbuilding feels... too easy. When Avatar: The Last Airbender was praised for its worldbuilding.

I adore Decopunk. I enjoy it far more than Dieselpunk and it’s much less known that Steampunk. But it has no place in the Avatar world.

2) That doesn’t mean “remove Republic City”.

First of all, it should honestly have a better name. It’s kind of like naming a city “Democracy City”. Which is way too on the nose. Harmony City sounds better, and that’s the first thing that came to mind. Anyway.

I really like the idea of a city being built in the spirit of Iroh and the White Lotus. To allow the Four Nations to live together in harmony in one city. But why is Republic City literally New York City with an “““Asian””” flair? What is up with that? I know New York is the MOST Decopunk city ever (you can’t encounter anything Decopunk without seeing New York, with its Art Deco buildings, the Harlem Renaissance, the Prohibition, etc.). But they do NOTHING with it! They just take New York, change some names, add some Asian flair, and call it a day.

I don’t want 1920s New York for Republic City. I want Zootopia.

What happens in a city where all the Four Nations are represented? How does Water, Earth, Fire and Air work together? Big cities tend to be quartered in neighborhoods, so each neighborhood could be a smaller version of their nation. We could have a Northern Water Tribe next to an Earth Kingdom next to... you know what I mean? Each neighborhood could be a small-scale introduction to the nation for Korra first, then you can send her to that nation afterwards!

Which leads us to this.

3) Have Korra follow a traditional Avatar’s journey.

I really don’t know why they decided that Korra would learn three elements before the age of sixteen (when that’s the age Avatars usually START their journeys) and then only have her learn Airbending during the entire show. Wasn’t the structure of each Book being about Aang learning one element at a time a good structure? Why go out of their way to NOT do that? Why was it the White Lotus’ prerogative to train the Avatar in the first place, too?

So let’s have Korra know waterbending first (and show Katara teaching her, please!), then she can learn Earth, Fire and Air. By going to the Earth Kingdom, to the Fire Nation, and to the Air Temples. This could help develop each nation and show us how they have grown through the years. And it could lead Korra and the audience to figure out that there’s not only Aang who has had children to represent the Air Nomads, but there were other Air Nomads who survived the genocide and we can actually see the Air Nomads as a thriving culture.

So about Republic City. As I said, we could keep it. But now that Korra is going on a traditional Avatar journey, you could have, say, one episode at the beginning and one episode at the end of each season taking place in Republic City. To show us how each Nation’s neighborhood works and as an introduction to Korra before she actually takes the plunge to travel to that nation.

Please! Build upon the Avatar world at large more! Come on!

4) Stop it with the love triangles.

Many have talked about the Mako, Korra, Bolin and Asami love triangles. I’ve read once that they don’t exactly feel like friends, they’re only colleagues who share the fact they all dated Korra at one point. Which is sad. Knowing that the Gaang is so beloved because they’re such GOOD FRIENDS first!

So work to build strong, healthy friendships first, THEN start thinking about romance if you have to. And please, if you want a ship to be endgame, don’t have it so you have to confirm it on Twitter.

Don’t.

Oh! And also. Bolin and Eska’s relationship was unhealthy as all hell and treated as “funny” and “comic relief” because a woman was being emotionally abusive to a man. That’s terrible. Please don’t do that.

5) Don’t let Katara fall to the side like she did.

Many, MANY before me have talked about how Katara got the short end of the stick in LOK. Where’s her statue? Where’s her recognition as the Greatest Waterbender in the World? Why is she day in and day out in the healing hut, when she said “I don’t want to heal, I want to FIGHT”? Does she even have a waterbending school? Or is that completely fanon? Why does she allow Aang to take one of their children on life-changing field trips while leaving their other kids behind? Aren’t they also Air Nomads by birth??

It’s okay to worship the old Gaang because, well, we all love them! I do love Aang, even if I give him a hard time a lot, but I love the character. I just don’t like the way Book 3 Aang was written. But some characters shouldn’t have everything while others have nothing. Aang is LITERALLY THE STATUE OF LIBERTY. But where was Katara’s statue? And also, what happened to Suki?? What happened to Mai or Ty Lee, too?? Or even Sokka?? He died some time ago and... that’s it??

Which brings us to this.

6) Zutara, Taang, Sukka and Mailee.

I’ve seen that picture of Toph, Aang, Sokka and Katara being edited with Zuko and Katara next to each other, Toph and Aang next to each other, and a (suddenly alive!) Suki next to Sokka. I think that’s so good! It feels so healthy!

Not all relationships that started when people were kids work out. Sokka and Suki seem the strongest relationship at the end of the show and they’re probably the only ones I could see working out in the end. Sokka could become the Southern Water Tribe Chief and Suki could become his Queen when she’s retired from the Kyoshi Warriors.

Katara and Aang would be lifelong friends, of course they would be, but I don’t really see them lasting. Aang was twelve when they started dating. They’d date a few years, then they’d decide they want other things. That’s a good thing to show kids!

I’ve written many metas about Zutara, but Ambassador then Fire Lady Katara would show a changing world, where the Fire Nation, now no longer a war industry but a Steampunk country, is moving forward, with Zuko literally marrying a woman the Fire Nation tried to wipe out. They would be equals and leave an equal mark upon the world. Together.

Toph and Aang would be amazing together. They’d be a great team, working in the Earth Kindom, helping rebuild the old Temples when the Air Nomads came out of hiding, and bringing peace around the world. I don’t think they’d be a conventional relationship. They’d do their own thing for a while, find each other for a while, work together on some projects, then continue doing their own thing. Aang being the Avatar who travels the world and Toph teaching metalbenders and working with the King in Ba Sing Se and Bumi in Omashu and wherever she’s needed. I think Toph would be much more fulfilled than what we’ve seen of elderly Katara. She doesn’t have Katara’s abandonment issues (I’ve talked about them here) and she’s more independent, I believe.

I know I haven’t talked about them much yet, but I want Mai and Ty Lee together in the end. Badass ladies challenging their respective stereotypes and create a new world for themselves. Mai could find herself away from the Fire Nation court (I don’t know what she’d do, but circuses love people who throw knives, don’t they? She could be a circus performer for a while), and I think Ty Lee, in this version, could work at the circus and with Aang to rebuild the Air Nomads. I love the idea of Ty Lee being a descendant of the Air Nomads.

All of them should be shown creating Zootopia-like Republic City. Because of course they should be! They’re the Gaang!

So yeah, that’s how I would see the world of Avatar grow beyond the borders of the original show! :)

#atla #avatar the last airbender #anti-lok #anti-bryke #zutara #sukka #taang #mailee #darkcrowprincess

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thr-333 · 4 years

Text

Drastic Measures- Part 7

@daminette-december2019-2020

~Chill~

Wrote it all in an hour and 20 minutes just about? Not bad, not bad at all.

Ao3

First< Previous

----------

“Why! Why does it have to be so cold!” Marinette pulls on her coat tighter.

“Why did you come if you’re just going to complain?” Damian scowls, looking over the list they were given.

“Dick asked me to,” Marinette shivers, “Besides I need to get out and see the city, you said you would show me,”

“I only agreed to this because Dick insisted I apologize for trying to kill you,”

“You were trying to kill me?”

“... No?”

“Damian,”

“Fine,” He pulls off the sweater he was wearing, the one she had made him, “My bad, now keep warm,”

“My bad is not an apology,” Marinette chides pulling the sweater on, “If you didn’t like the sweater you could have just said so,”

“That's not-” Damina turn to see her smirk, tutting then turning back around, “You're incorrigible,”

“Your apology is accepted,” Marinette giggles skipping slightly to catch up, she takes note of how he shivers as a gust of wind blows through, “Hey you're cold now right? I have an idea,”

“I’m not cold,” Damian snaps, picking up the pace, “Unlike you, I have more discipline than that,”

“Oh please, you grew up in the desert right?” Damian glares at her, “What? You think I didn’t know anything? Maman not as good at hiding things as she thinks she is,”

“Be careful where you say that,” He warns, they walk for a little while more the temperature dropping. Marinette continues to keep an incredulous eye on Damian. After ten minutes he sighs, “What's your idea?”

“It involves me getting on your back,”

“Not a chance,” Damian tuts, “You could stab me in the back,”

“Literally or figuratively?” Another glare but Marinette just smiles under it, “Fine then, I’ll just take this sweater off and we can both freeze,”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Damian snatches it off her, “I’ll just wear it,”

And so he does. They walk for a while longer Marinette simultaneously congratulating and cursing herself for picking such a warm fabric for Damian's sweater as she shivers in the cold Gotham winds. Her teeth are chattering and they are still a long way off from their destination. Marinette starts to slow down, ever since she had become ladybug her tolerance to the cold was lowering, like how Adrien's eyesight at night kept improving; although she probably got the short end of the stick for that one. Her thoughts are interrupted by a long suffered sigh from Damian.

“Fine, we’ll do your plan,”

“Really?!”

“If we actually want to get there today, yes,”

---

“This was your plan!” Damian shouts as they run down the street.

“It’s a great plan!’ Marinette clings to his back.

“Everyones staring,” Damian scowls, the sweater just big enough to stretch over both of them locking Marinette against his back.

“Then run faster!”

“Maybe if you stopped strangling me I would!”

“Oh please, stop being dramatic,”

“Why don't you start running and we’ll see whos being dramatic!”

“I could probably get there before you!”

“Yeah right, you-”

“Wait! Wait! Go back!” Marinette tugs, Damian lets out a choked sound stopping as he brings his hands up to remove hers.

“What,” He is unable to get her off with the sweater around them both.

“Pet store,” Marinette shimmies down, managing to get out with some difficulty, “Look how cute- wait,”

“Where are you going!” Damian calls as she storms into the pet store, he trails reluctantly behind her. Marinette walks right up to the desk slamming her hand down.

“Excuse me are you in charge of this store?”

“I’m the manager, yes,” The man raises an eyebrow looking up from his newspaper.

“Are you aware that the enclosure out there is filthy?”

“Animals get dirty,”

“It’s a health code violation,” Marinette scolds, “You're going to make the animals sick,”

“Tt, she’s right,” Damian looks around the store, the rest of the cages in even worse condition, “Just what sort of business do you think you're running? These are live animals, you can’t even see into the fish tank at this point,”

“I’ve followed company policy,” The manger huffs, going back to the newspaper adding a mocking, “So if you want to take it up with anyone take it up with them,”

“Oh I will,” Damian hisses, before going to the other end of the store intently tapping at his phone.

“Ha, have fun getting bounced around the phones for the next ten hours,” The manager barks, Marinette rolls her eyes turning back to him.

“Look it may not be required by your employer but try to have some compassion these are living creatures, they look miserable,”

“Well then, why don’t you buy them if they look so miserable,”

“That's not the root of the problem and you know it,” Marinette reasons with the unreasonable, “You’ll just replace them with more animals, this place isn’t fit for that,”

She could just feel the negative energy coming from the place, a place of suffering for those who had no way out. Her magic had perked the animals up a bit but that wouldn't solve the problems at hand. Not that any of this seemed to get through to the manager as Marinette kept arguing. She brought up her phone and articles to help support her argument. Only finding to her disdain that the pet store franchise itself had a long history of animal abuse, that this was the norm, not an exception. They just threw money at any lawsuit that came their way and bribing inspectors.

“Why are you even working here if you hate-”

“Excuse me,” A new customer walks up, Damian close behind, “Could I look-”

“Do whatever you like!” The manager snaps, “Can’t you see I’m busy here?!”

“Do you treat all your customers like this? No wonder your not getting any business if the facilities alone didn’t scare people off,” Marinette finally snaps. Damian, dare she say looks impressed, which probably isn’t a good sign.

“You’re insulting me now?”

“I’ve been insulting you the past hour, nice of you to catch on,”

From there it devolves into a full argument. They rage while Damian and the other customer poke around the store, talking to each other. Damian keeps on making calls and Marinette wishes he would stop and come help back her up, he seemed just as disgusted with this place as she was. But whenever she sends a look his way Damian just brushes her off going back to his call.

The argument escalates. Marinette's magic lashing out, subconsciously sending the animals into a frenzy. Barks and howls ring out mixed with cat yowls and whatever noise the other animals can manage.

“Quiet down you!” The manager roars, winding up to hit a puppy yapping at him, Marinette moves just a fraction of a second too slow.

“How dare you,” Damian catches the fist, twisting the arm in a painful unnatural position, “You’re fired,”

“You can’t fire me!” He struggles in Damian's grip, who in turn looks completely unfazed by the effort.

“Actually I can,” Damina flips his screen around to show a contract, “I just brought the company,”

“You what?!” Both Marinette and the manager shout at the same time.

“Yes well, it was easy enough to get in touch with the president of the company, when I put in my offer he laughed me off,” Damian shrugs letting the shell shocked man go, “So I called in one of our best lawyers,”

Damian nods to the other customer, who nods back.

“She built a case for us compiling evidence from this store, thank you for full access by the way,” Damian looks smugly at the manager gaping like a fish, “Other lawyers were in charge of inspecting other stores and researching past allegations, and I had some working internationally look at the branches in other countries, the results were not flattering,”

Damian's glare turns cold and piercing. Marinette had been on the receiving end of that glare and would like to think she handled it better than this guy was.

“Couple that all with the declarations I recorded from you arguing with Marinette,” Damina inclines his head to her, Marinette nods kind of dumbly, “And we had quite the case to shut the business down, you can guarantee the Wayne influence and lawyers would prevent this all from being swept under the rug,”

“Wayne?!”

“Yes, and as you can imagine after we sent through the case file the owner wasn't laughing me off the phone, he agreed to my price,” The man was sweating buckets now as Damian advanced looming over him, “The contracts aren't finalized or signed yet but you can guarantee by the end of the week I will own this place,”

Damian leans over him as the manager tries to sink into the floor.

“So. You. Are. Fired.”

---

“So are you going to teach me the glare that makes grown men pee their pants and run for their lives or do I have to figure it out myself?” Marinette teases, picking through the stocks in the back.

“You wouldn't be able to pull it off,” Damian shoots back, taking the bag she hands him, “An emergency demand was put out for new workers, they’ll be here soon to do this,”

“Oh no you don’t you little rich boy,” Marinette laughs at the face he makes, “You don’t just get to roll through here, throw some money at it and expect your job to be done, you took this company on so show a little responsibility,”

“I am taking responsibility,” Damian scowls, “I fully plan on improving this place,”

“What? By hiring someone to take over with the vague demands of ‘make it better’?” Damian sour look is all the answer she needs, “No way, this is your own responsibility and no one else's, so you need to take a long hard look at what's wrong and figure out how to fix it,”

“If I recall this all is partly your fault,” Damian stacks another bag where she told him too.

“If I recall I didn’t tell you to buy an entire pet store franchise,” Not that she didn’t approve, “But fine, I’ll help you out if you want,”

“I didn’t say that,”

“You didn’t have to,” Damian huffs and looks away, Marinette smiles and picks up a bag of food, “First things first, the food is horrible quality, it’s all filler with little nutritional value,”

“I’ll order new stock right away,” Damian takes out his phone, Marinette snatches it from him.

“Hold on now,” Damian gives her that little put off look she finds adorable, “You have to look at all the problems first then make a plan of action or you're just running around like a headless chicken,”

“Your point?”

“The staff are also underpaid, it’s not enough to live off and certainly not enough to motivate a good work ethic,” Marinette hands back the phone, Damian pockets it, “So before you go around firing everyone that's ever worked here why don’t you try changing the bones of the company then picking out the bad seeds?”

“Alright,” Damian concedes, “... You have a point,”

“Was that tough to admit?”

“The only excruciating part of it is your smugness,”

“Why hello kettle,” Damina gives her a light glare but she just laughs it off.

“All these changes are going to be expensive,” Damian frowns looking through the statistics the lawyers had sent them, “The company was already falling into debt,”

“It needs a hook,” Marinette hums, “Something new and unique that no other chain has…. I got it!!”

She brushes past him, going for her sketchbook and starting the brainstorming process.

“Would you like to share your epiphany?” Damian asks after about five minutes of watching her sketch. “An exclusive pet clothesline!”

“Oh boy,”

---

“See I was right wasn't I?” Marinette finishes fixing the outfit onto Titus.

“I was under the impression you were going to make something vapid and ridiculous,” Damian deflects, looking at the raincoat Marinette had made for Titus, it fit him perfectly and worked well with his fur color as well, “This is at least useful,”

“Wow, that might be a bigger compliment than ‘it’s well made’ or is it?” Marinette cocks her head to the side, “Should I start a ‘Damian's compliments’ tier list?”

“Do not,” Damian calls Titus back to him, taking off the raincoat, “This should at least partly help make up for the new expenses,”

“What changes should we make first?” Marinette follows Damian inside, already sketching new designs into her book.

“There's no point in launching the pet clothes until the company goes through its rebrand, and that will take some time anyway,” They settle in a study they had commandeered to work together in, a sewing machine up near the window, “By the way whats your design fee?"

“Hm… make me a co-owner and we’ll forget about the design fee,” Marinette smiles as Damian doesn't immediately look disgusted by the prospect, “Besides If I recall this is partly my fault,”

“Fine co-owner,” Damian rolls his eyes at her, “I guess we’ll be drafting a new contract,”

“Make sure our shares are 50/50,”

“80/20,”

“Awe you’d let me have 80%”

Damian gives her a withering glare with no heat.

“50/50,” Marinette holds out her hand, “Equal,”

“... Equal,” Damian takes her hand, “You better design a lot of clothes,”

“Already on it,” Marinette holds up her new sketchbook, dedicated to just this, “Plus I’ll be part of the planning so let me in on it,”

“I was-” Damian cuts off glaring towards the door, Marinette follows his eye to see Dick and Adrien caught like deer in headlights looking at them with phones held up.

“Adrien!” Marinette starts towards them getting overtaken by Damian as they both start sprinting.

“Delete it or I destroy your phone!” He threatens, chasing them down the hall.

“Already backed it up to several computers!” Dick calls back, disappearing around the corner, the three yells disappearing into the distance. Marinette chuckles to herself, going back to finish up her designs.

--------

No tag list :P

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug fic #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #MLB #ML #ml fic #Marinette #miraculous marinette #badass marinette #maribat #daminette

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