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ellemj · 4 months

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Time & Temptation - Roommates w/ Benefits Pt. 3

Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Read parts 1 and 2 first if you haven't!

Summary: Bucky took a bullet for you and your ungrateful attitude is exactly what will help end his unwanted attraction to you, his new roommate. Or at least he thought it would help, until he found out how pretty you look on your knees.

Warnings: profanity, teasing, alcohol consumption, mutual masturbation, hint of a size kink, blood, gunshot wounds, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: According to @littlemiss-yeehaw, this is the filthiest thing I've ever written. Idk if I agree but it's a lil tiny bit filthy. Sorry for the long wait but I did NOT want to risk half-assing this chapter when I was so focused on getting through the 12 Days of Smut in December. Hope you all enjoy!

Pissed. That’s what you are in this moment, beyond pissed. You’re in the backseat of Sam’s car as he drives you and Bucky through the city, heading back to your apartment complex. He should be heading toward the nearest hospital but of course, the stubborn ass super soldier who you now call your roommate adamantly refused to go to the hospital after being shot.

“If I see so much as one drop of blood on my leather seats...” Sam threatens coldly, shooting Bucky a side-eye from the driver’s seat. You don’t even have to see his face to know that Bucky’s returning the calloused look. You let out an annoyed sigh as you start unbuckling the strap of one of your heels, your shimmery body glitter reflecting the mix of moonlight and streetlights streaming in from the windows. “And you,” Sam says, casting a glance in the rearview mirror and catching your gaze, “don’t get glitter all over my damn car.”

“I’d be getting glitter all over Elias Leveaux’s car right now if Bucky hadn’t inserted himself into my op.” You put extra emphasis on the word my, using the rearview mirror to look at Bucky’s stoic expression. He keeps his eyes trained on the road ahead, refusing to dignify you with even a brief darting of his eyes in your direction. After kicking off your heels and stuffing them in your duffel bag, you reach behind yourself to start undoing the back of your lacey corset top. Though it looks hot as fuck on you, it’s also uncomfortable as fuck and you’re not wearing it for a moment longer than you have to. Your breasts are one more snap away from spilling out of the top when Sam catches Bucky’s gaze drifting to the rearview mirror so briefly that he’s surprised he even noticed it. Sam’s quick to reach a hand up and tilt the mirror to point at the ceiling, shooting Bucky a disapproving look. He would’ve expected a man from Steve’s era to behave a little better than that. “What the hell were the three of you even doing there tonight? This was meant to be a solo op, I didn’t need any more backup than I already had.”

“Right, you’d be safely on your way to Leveaux’s house right now, wouldn’t you? Without a bullet wound in your head or your chest or wherever else?” Bucky seethes, growing more and more tired of your stubbornness. Do you not realize that it was a planned shooting? Someone knew Leveaux was going to be at the club tonight and they plotted it all ahead of time, aiming to either scare him into staying off of the streets of the city or maybe even aiming to kill him. It was going to happen regardless of how much backup you did or didn’t have tonight.

“You know, Bucky, you can’t say shit. You got yourself shot tonight. You should’ve stayed in the club.” As soon as the words leave your lips you feel a tinge of regret settling in the pit of your stomach. He got himself shot protecting you. He shielded you with his own body. He was observant of your surroundings, he saw the dark car slowly coming down the street with its windows halfway down, and his first move was to shove you against the wall and put his body between yours and the danger behind. He likely saved your life, yet you can’t find it within yourself to offer him even a measly thank you. He’s actually a little bit thankful for everything that happened after you left the stage earlier, because he was really starting to wonder how the hell he was going to find enough to dislike about you to keep his cock from getting hard every time you cross paths, which is way too often when you live together. But you acting like this? Acting like he did you a disservice by not only saving you from a hail of gunfire but also by saving you from going home with the most notorious arms dealer in the northern U.S? He thinks this ungrateful attitude of yours might cure him.

When the sound of your last corset fastener snapping open disturbs the short-lived silence in the car, Bucky clenches his teeth together. He wishes you would wait until you were home to change, but he also couldn’t stand knowing that you were sitting there in that fucking black lingerie set with nothing but another man’s coat covering your skin. Maybe he isn’t as cured as he thought.

“You should’ve called me Sam, you should’ve told me that you guys were going to be there tonight.” Your tone is a little softer as you slip on a black Calvin Klein bra and then pull your black sweater from earlier over it.

“Fury didn’t brief us until the last minute, I had no idea it was your op until it was too late to call you. You were already onsite.” Sam explains, trying to diffuse your anger a bit more. You sigh as you slide your black jeans over your legs and begin zipping and buttoning them closed.

“I’ve been waiting to get him alone for months.” You’re sulking. You put so much time and effort into tracking Leveaux’s every move, every hobby, every place he frequents. You know the man inside and out, and you knew this night was your only chance to get what you needed from him. You lift your right hand and massage your temples with your middle finger and thumb, feeling the start of a stress headache coming on.

“You’ll get another chance. He was pretty damn interested in you and what you had to offer.” Sam points out, fixing the rearview mirror back into its proper position and using it to make eye contact with you. He knows you work hard and that you’re good at your job, and he hates to see you so frustrated over one op being blown for reasons that were out of your control. As much as you want to blame Bucky, it wasn’t even his fault. However, you plan to hold a bit of a grudge regardless.

“Answer this one for me, when you were briefed, did Fury tell you that my cover name was the same as my real first name?” You ask, perking up in your seat a bit as you fish around in your bag for your socks. It’s freezing outside and you can barely feel your feet after wearing your heels out in such a low temperature.

“You really think I would’ve blown your cover unintentionally?” Bucky questions, his blue eyes boring into yours in the mirror. Clearly he takes offense at your insinuation. He might’ve inserted himself into your moment with Leveaux on a whim, but he isn’t reckless like you, he knew what he was doing outside the club. He was saving your ass. You stare right back at him, malice lighting your gaze on fire.

“You’re telling me you meant to do it on purpose?”

“Calm down, we knew your cover name was the same as your real name. Your cover wasn’t blown.” Sam interjects, trying his best to stomp out the flames of the fight that’s brewing between you and Bucky. His eyes leave the road for a moment as he casts a glance between the two of you, unable to ignore the growing tension in the car. “What the hell is up with you two? I’ve barely ever seen you guys interact, much less be at each other’s throats like you are right now. Am I missing something?”

“No.” You and Bucky speak the word in unison. The last few minutes of the car ride are taken in silence, no one daring to say another word as you and Bucky stew in your own anger and Sam focuses on avoiding patches of black ice in the road. You’ve almost forgotten that Bucky’s been shot, until you get out of the car in the parking garage and see the sizable, dark red wet patch smeared across the fabric covering his torso. He’s keeping his flesh hand held tight over the area, in an attempt to abate the blood loss. It looks a lot worse than he’s been making it seem, but you’d expect no less from someone so damn stubborn.

It only takes a couple of minutes to make it to your floor of the complex, and as soon as the elevator doors begin sliding open to let you both out, you can feel that urge somewhere deep inside, tugging at your conscience. You’re going to end up breaking out your first aid kit and using it on him. You can’t even argue with yourself, it’s what’s going to happen. It’s inevitable. Fuck your medical background and inherent need to take care of everyone but yourself.

Bucky’s planning to shower the blood off of his skin and maybe throw a couple of bandages over the entrance and exit wounds that he knows he’s sporting. That’s the most that he thinks he’ll need. He’s barely ever needed any more than a little wound cleansing and maybe some gauze here and there, he heals so quickly that first aid always been an unnecessary comfort. As he trails behind you down the hallway, watching the way you fiddle with the set of keys in your right hand, he wonders what you’re thinking now. He imagines you’re probably picturing yourself leaving him standing on the curb as you ride off into the dark of night with Elias Leveaux. Would you really have made it all the way to Leveaux’s house and let him put his hands on you? Would you have let him have you? All for a little bit of intel that you could probably gain in a much safer way? God, Bucky can’t stand you or the way you operate in the field. The next time Fury calls him in on anything related to you, he’s waving a white flag of surrender and saying hell no. He isn’t going to be tasked with sitting on the sidelines to watch as you let some criminal touch your ass and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. Fuck that.

You deftly slide your key into the lock, turning it to the right before pushing the door handle down. When the door swings open, the darkness of your apartment greets you, mingling with an eerie silence. That’s another thing that you and Bucky don’t have in common. You always leave a light on when you go out, whether it’s a table lamp or the light above the stovetop in the kitchen, you hate coming home to darkness. But Bucky never leaves a light on. It’s like he’s allergic to all things cozy and comforting. You’re acutely aware of his presence behind you as you step into the apartment and stop in your tracks when he shuts the door behind you both. It’s dark, too dark. Of course, when you freeze right in front of him, Bucky’s next step sends him crashing into your back, which sends you nearly sprawling to the floor. He reaches out with his vibranium hand and grabs you by the elbow, steadying you quickly before letting go. It only takes him a second to figure out why you’ve stopped short, and he turns around to feel along the wall by the door until he hears the way the scratchy sound of the rough painted wall gives way to the smooth plastic covering of the light switch panel under his metal fingers. When he flicks the living room light on, you let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding.

Bucky watches as you cross the living room and disappear down the hallway, making a left turn into your bedroom with your duffel bag in tow. Maybe he’s imagining it, but he swears he sees a trail of glitter and being sprinkled across the floor in your wake and cartoon-style steam billowing out of your ears. With you gone, he can finally think without a cloud of anger fogging up his thoughts. His first move is to turn on the lights in the kitchen and fish a cold beer out of the fridge. His second move is to lean back against the edge of the island and take a long sip of said beer as he gauges how much his gunshot wound hurts. Not that much. Listening to you give him shit over nothing was more painful than the bullet he took for you. God, you’re fucking infuriating. As much as he detests your presence here tonight, he still finds himself tuning an ear in your direction. He can hear you rummaging around in your room, presumably searching for something by the sounds of your sighs and various objects sliding across the carpet. For a second, his mind floats back to the first night you moved in. The soft moans and whimpers that fell from your mouth, quiet enough that he had to strain his ears to hear them but loud enough that he was able to fucking memorize them. His grip around the beer bottle tightens as he tries to focus on anything besides those sounds, anything besides the recurrent sighs traveling down the hall right now. What the hell are you even doing in there?

“Take off your shirt.” Your voice sounds out from down the hall, reaching Bucky’s ears and making him do a doubletake.

“Last time you saw me without one you asked why I never wear one.” Bucky points out, now he’s really wondering what you’re doing in your bedroom. He hears your socked feet pattering against the floor of the hallway just before you turn the corner and step into the kitchen. His eyes lock onto yours first, but then they quickly dart down to the compact, army green tactical bag in your hands. He recognizes it in an instant. “I think if I got myself shot, I can handle the wound care on my own, sweetheart.” Bucky throws your earlier words right back in your face. You narrow your eyes at him as you step up to the island and set the first aid bag just a few inches to his right. You’re silent as you unzip it and start pulling out a few supplies you’re sure you’ll need.

“Just take off your shirt and sit your ass on the island.” Your tone is really starting to convey how fed up you are with his shit. He thinks about arguing a little more, but he’s as ready to be done with you tonight as you are with him. He figures the fastest way to get this over with is to let you take a look at his wound and see how fast he’s already healing, and then you’ll leave him alone and you can go your separate ways for the night. So, Bucky turns and sets his now half-empty beer bottle on the island next to the first aid kit before grasping the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. He drops it on the floor by your feet, watching with poorly masked amusement as your eyes rake over his toned shoulders, his chest, the rippled muscles of his abs, and then… “God, you should’ve gone to the hospital, Bucky.”

Though the lighting in the kitchen is pretty good, Bucky being so tall casts a shadow over his lower body, making it hard to get an illuminated view of the bullet’s exit wound. Your hand lands on his vibranium shoulder without hesitation and you tug him forward and to the side, urging him to turn around. He complies, gritting his teeth at the feeling of your palm and fingertips brushing over the scars where vibranium meets tortured skin. It doesn’t hurt, in fact, he finds himself annoyed at how soothing your touch feels. He wants this whole thing over with. You lean over to examine the entrance wound on the side of his lower back as Bucky runs a hand through his hair and squeezes his eyes shut. It doesn’t look anywhere near as bad as the exit wound on his frontside, which is exactly what you’d expected. You don’t give Bucky any warning as you swipe a pre-soaked pad of iodine over his wound to clean it. You want to check for bullet fragments, to give him a few stitches and maybe even a shot of a local anesthetic, but you’re sure he’d rather take another bullet than let you do any of that. So, you simply clean the wound and fashion a secure, waterproof bandage over it. When you stand up again and tap his shoulder, he turns back around to face you, looking even more annoyed than before. He doesn’t make a move to sit on the island, so you let out a frustrated sigh as you do the only thing you can think to do, the thing that Bucky wishes you hadn’t done. You sink to your knees in front of him.

You notice the way he draws in a deep breath and casts a displeased glance down at you, his eyes narrowed and brow furrowed, but he doesn’t move a muscle otherwise. You look up at him just for a moment, taking in his cold expression and everything below it…the taut muscles of his chest and abdomen, the way both of his hands are gripping the edge of the countertop, his beer long forgotten with you now on your knees. If you could hear his thoughts, you’d be hearing a chorus of not now, not now, not now as Bucky attempts to rationalize with his already-hardening cock. Bucky decides to give you thirty seconds to finish whatever the hell it is that you’re about to do down there before he pulls you up by your fucking hair. As if you can sense his short fuse, you get to work. Swiping the iodine pad over the significantly messier exit wound and then tearing open a packet of gauze with your teeth. You press a couple of the soft white squares against his still oozing wound and they quickly soak up the fresh blood, soaking through to your fingertips. Bucky’s wondering why you didn’t put on any gloves, aren’t people usually worried about catching some bloodborne illness when they do shit like this? The fact that his blood turning your fingertips red doesn’t even seem to bother you almost turns him on more. God, this is starting to feel a little bit too twisted. Bucky’s flesh hand moves on autopilot, his fingers coming to rest over yours as he applies more pressure to the wound and lets out a soft grunt at the pain. You let him hold your fingers there for a moment and you make the mistake of looking up at him again. Fuck. He can’t handle this. Bucky screws his eyes shut and tilts his head back a little, making sure when he opens his eyes again his only view will be of the ceiling above and not of you on your knees in front of him.

“Are you almost done?” He asks harshly, removing his hand from the top of yours and gripping the edge of the counter once more. You start fashioning another bandage out of gauze and medical tape as soon as his hand leaves yours.

“I would be if you’d sat on the island like I asked you to, you wanted to do this the hard way.” You retort. You can’t seem to get the tape in a good enough position, not with the waistband of his tactical pants in the way, so you take the initiative and curl two fingertips into them before tugging them down an inch. That one inch is enough to reveal the beginning of a v-line and your breath hitches in your throat. You’re suddenly all-too-aware of the compromising position you’re in. Even more than that, you’re aware of something you’d been completely oblivious to just a moment before: Bucky’s hard-on outlined through the fabric of his pants.

You’re frozen for a second too long and when you come to your senses once more, you look up to find Bucky staring down at you, his gaze a little less cold but every bit as intense. You decide that making eye contact with the man that you’re currently non-sexually on your knees for might not be the smartest move, so you’re quick to avert your gaze back to the task at hand. You’re able to get the bandage in the right place just fine after tugging his pants down an inch, and as soon as the tape sticks to his skin you rise to your feet. You’re the only thing standing between Bucky and the short walk to his bedroom door. You’re ready to collect your first aid kit and leave him standing in the kitchen to steep in his anger, but your mind can’t seem to get past the fact that he has a hard-on. He saw you staring at it too, and he simply stood there looking down at you, as if he was waiting to see how you’d respond to it. God, who the hell does he think he is? Crashing your solo op, taking a bullet for you like he’s some all-American hero, and then getting turned on by what? You giving him shit for it all?

Bucky’s waiting a bit impatiently for you to take your leave, for you to gather your medical supplies back into the little tactical bag and disappear into your bedroom for the rest of the night, leaving a trail of body glitter all over the kitchen and hallway. But instead of leaving, you’re standing in front of him, your eyes analyzing every twitch of the muscles along his jaw, every little move he makes with his eyes as he stares right back at you. Your boldness seems to intensify as you stand there taking in the sight of your roommate. You want the last word, and you want it to be something he’ll remember, so he doesn’t go screwing up your hard work ever again.

Leaning into Bucky’s space, you’re met with his intoxicatingly pleasant scent, he smells so uniquely like him. There isn’t any other way to describe it, it’s just Bucky. You brace your hands on the edge of the island on either side of him, your arms brushing against each of his as you rise up on your toes and position your lips so close to his ear that you could stick your tongue out and taste him if you wanted to. Fuck, you kind of want to. The thought only graces your mind for the briefest moment before you let your eyes flutter closed and focus on the anger you still feel bubbling up in your chest.

“Stay the fuck away from my solo ops.” You whisper softly but pointedly. Your bottom lip just barely grazes the shell of his ear as the last word leaves your mouth. That tiny, brief point of physical connection between the two of you is seemingly nothing, yet it sends a spark of electricity from your bottom lip all the way down to your toes.

Bucky’s form is rigid, trapped between you and the island, simultaneously hating and loving the position he’s been placed in. He wishes he only hated it. He wishes he could fist his hand in your hair and angle your head back until your neck is exposed to him like a blank canvas, ready for him to leave his mark. He wishes you would’ve locked yourself in your bedroom the moment you both got to the apartment, not even bothering to fish out your first aid kit and clean up his wounds. He wishes he’d never given you the idea to switch apartments with Vision, and yet, in this moment, his cock is harder than it’s ever been. That’s why when you let go of the island and turn away from Bucky, leaving your first aid kit on the countertop as you take the first step to leave the kitchen, Bucky reaches out and curls his hand tightly around your upper arm, stopping you in your tracks before using his grip to turn you back around to face him. In one swift motion, he tightens his hold even more and pulls you in until your chest is pressed against his and his warm breath is fanning across your face as he looks down at your widened eyes.

“I don’t take orders from people who don’t give a shit if they live or die.” Bucky spits, holding you against him for just a second after he’s spoken his piece, before dropping his hold on your arm and letting you stumble one step back. He expects you to maybe mutter something under your breath before stomping off to your room, annoyed that he didn’t let you have the last word, but you’re every bit as stubborn as he is. Every bit as stubborn and feeling like you have a leg up in the situation since you know what’s currently fighting to escape the confines of his tactical pants. A smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth as your eyes flit from his icy expression down to his waistband that sits right above the outline of his hard-on, and then back up to his eyes once more.

“Right, it’s probably bad form to take professional orders from someone you wanna fuck anyway.” When you say the word fuck, you let your eyes drift down to the front of his pants one final time, ensuring that he knows what led you to your choice of words. Now Bucky returns your smirk. His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip as he shakes his head at you.

“That’s all adrenaline, sweetheart, nothing else.” His denial is both enraging and laughable. You tsk, closing the distance between the two of you one more time before reaching out with your right hand and letting the tips of your fingers, still tinged red with his blood, tap lightly over the center of his chest. He’s looking down at you, completely unable to force himself to look anywhere else, as you drag those fingers down his bare torso, so lightly that he feels goosebumps forming across the expanse of his skin. Your hand travels lower and lower, over the hills and valleys of his abs, ghosting over his navel, and down the thin trail of hair that leads straight to the thing you can’t stop thinking about. You let your fingertips skim over the fabric of his waistband just barely, just enough to really piss him off, and that’s when Bucky snatches your wrist away, his grip so tight that you’re sure it’ll leave a mark.

“Watch it.” He warns, with his eyes dark and narrowed as he casts you a disapproving yet sinful glance. You feel your bloodflow splitting in two directions, half of it rushing up to color your cheeks and the other have rushing down to pool low in your stomach, sending heat swirling between your legs. You swallow thickly. What the hell? Your body is clearly loving the way he’s talking to you and it’s pissing you off. You’re learning that you’re attracted to men with the unhealthiest of attitudes, and Bucky’s currently rising to the top of the unhealthy-attitude-yet-hot-as-fuck mental list that you’re keeping. He’s actually the only person on it. He just invented the list for you, in this moment, when he told you to watch it.

“I think I heard a button snap there, soldier.” You tease, letting your eyes flit down to the waistband of his pants again. Bucky’s jaw ticks as he flicks your wrist away from him and tries to ignore the new nickname you’ve decided to test out. How do you make such a common, simple title sound so damn filthy? Bucky thinks you could’ve actually heard the button of his tactical pants snap open, considering the way his cock has been twitching every time you open your mouth. He decides the only way for him to get out of this is to let you have the last word, so he stands there in silence as you study his tense face. He so badly wants to say something back, to anger you every bit as much as you’ve angered him tonight, but he knows how stubborn you are and every word he breathes will only keep you here in front of him longer. His tactic works like a charm and he watches with bated breath as you step away from him and take a few steps toward the hallway. You stop short right before disappearing behind the wall, looking over your shoulder and making eye contact with Bucky one final time.

“Let me know if you need any help with all of that uh…” You wave your hand around in the air as you refer to Bucky’s hard-on, with a near-permanent smirk plastered on your face. “Adrenaline. It’s the least I can do.”

Bucky’s left alone in the kitchen at last. He thought he’d feel instant relief once you left, but he doesn’t. He feels like he has a damn loaded gun tucked in the front of his pants. Let me know if you need any help? It’s the least I can do? Bucky has no doubt that you were simply being a sarcastic pain in his ass, but still. Your words were laced with innuendo and the sexual tension in the room was so thick that he could barely breathe. He is so beyond fucked.

---

The softest, sweetest little hum escapes your lips as your right hand moves of its own volition. The back of your hand feels the fabric of your cotton panties, which are a little bit damp even after you showered and changed into a fresh pair. The pads of your fingers are sliding back and forth along your folds, gathering your wetness and spreading it around, dragging closer and closer to your entrance with each downward sweep. When you let the tip of your middle finger dip down and inward, just barely entering where you’ve been feeling an empty sort of ache for the past hour, the steady string of hums and soft pants that were leaving your lips before become whispered moans. This is exactly what you needed.

Bucky’s fist is wrapped tightly around the shaft of his cock as he gives it torturously slow strokes from the base to the tip, prolonging his pleasure as long as he possibly can. He closes his eyes and instantly recalls the mental image of you on your knees at his feet, gazing up at him like you being in that position for him wasn’t at all out of the ordinary.

“Fuck.” Bucky groans lowly, speeding up the work of his right hand as his head presses back harder into his pillow. It’s burned into his eyelids, the image of you on your knees. It’s burned into his eyelids and he fears he’ll never be able to forget it. His brain takes the image and adds to it, evolving it to include your hands sliding up the fronts of his thighs and adding a flash of hunger behind your eyes. He gets far too close to finishing himself off too soon when he imagines you tugging on the waistband of his pants just like you did earlier, but enough to free his cock right there in front of you. God, he knows he’s well-endowed, but he can just picture how much bigger his dick would look if your hand was wrapped around it instead of his own. Another groan rumbles past his lips, louder this time, as he starts to lose a little bit of his self-control.

Bucky. His name is swirling around your mind for two reasons now. The first being that you’re touching yourself because of him. Because of the way he looked at you, talked to you, because of the way he pissed you off. You slowly pull two fingers out of your pussy and drag them upwards until you reach your clit, beginning to stimulate it a little too excitedly as the second reason presents itself again. He groans. Bucky Barnes groans for the second time. The first time that you heard it a few seconds ago you assumed he was rolling over in bed or maybe he accidentally laid in a way that aggravated his wounds from earlier tonight. But the second time you heard it you had no doubt about what he was doing. It has to be exactly what you’re doing, and you’re fucking thrilled. You know it isn’t the most honest or decent way to reach an orgasm, but hell, if he’s going to be so damn vocal with such thin walls, how can you resist? So, you rub circles against your clit, letting hushed pants and moans fall freely from your lips now, sure that Bucky’s too engaged in his own arousal to hear you.

You sound like a fucking goddess. Bucky doesn’t even take a moment to feel guilty, no, he only picks up the speed with which he’s desperately tugging on his cock to get to his release. A thin sheen of sweat has formed across his brow and his chest is burning with a mix of desire and near-hyperventilation as he touches himself and listens to the sinful sounds coming from across the hall. All cares have been thrown aside as yet another loud curse is torn out of him, and then an equally loud, provocative moan is returned from your room. That’s when Bucky’s eyes snap open and his thumb glides over the slit of his cock where precum has been steadily leaking out since your dangerous kitchen encounter earlier. If he’s being honest with himself, his dick has been leaking precum since you took the stage at the club earlier tonight. As the two of you exchange moans and broken swears through the walls, neither of you using an ounce of rational thinking, you race toward your separate releases simultaneously. When Bucky finally feels his balls tightening and his cock twitching against the palm of his tiring hand, his release comes at the sound of your final audible sentence of the night.

“Fuck, I’m cumming.”

You always get the last word.

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cosmicstarlatte · 1 year

Text

Reality Show (Obey Me!)

━━━━━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━━━━━

Diavolo convinces Lucifer to have him & his brothers do a new demon reality show that revolves around their everyday lives.

»Characters: Demon Bros // ->[Click here for Part 2: Dateables]

»Tags: LUCIFER CAUGHT IN 4K, Shitpost/Humor, Mentions of reader/MC, Husbando Beel Supremacy, Bulleted Style

»Notes: CM = Crew Member ;; Sorry I was gonna upload this sooner but wanted to draw art for it. xD

Lucifer:

"Okay that's enough, go somewhere else."

CM: "We can't, you agreed to this under contract"

sighs

Mildly regretted his loyalty to Diavolo, otherwise he would've never done this

His camera crew was always on edge with him

The show stressed him more than usual

Perhaps there were a few embarrassing moments he would prefer not to talk about

Like pushing a door that said pull, forgetting the word spoon and calling it a tiny bowl on a stick

[Camera peeks through Lucifer's study, recording a smiling Lucifer texting on his phone]

CM: "Who were you texting Lucifer? Was it ___? There's been rumors..."

"I was checking the weather."

CM: "You take selfies for the weather?"

Mammon:

"Hey wait stop recordin' this! Not that what we are doin' is illegal!"

His camera crew had a rough time with him

But it made for good television!

He talked shit about Lucifer the most

"Yeah a lotta people dunno this, but Lucifer cries to me all the time! What can I say, I'm a reliable guy!"[Crew zooms in on an unamused Lucifer in the background]

[Cut to Mammon hanging from the ceiling]

"Can someone get me down from here!? HEY! WHERE ARE YOU GUYS GOIN'!?"

A lot of the crew's clips had shaky movement from running due to multiple mammon situations

They got a great swoon-worthy shot of Mammon gazing lovingly at you

CM: "Maybe you should confess?"

"I'm confessin' to nothin'! Talk to my lawyer!"

CM: "That's not what we- Nevermind."

Levi:

"I already stream online so this isn't any different."

lol

Levi didn't realize they'd be watching his every move

How was he suppose to worship his shrine of Ruri and you in front of them!?

His camera crew couldn't stop cringing around the otaku

it was uncomfortable for everyone

[Camera films secret sweet moment of him awkwardly practicing asking if you want to hang out]

He asked for it to be deleted, it was denied

However his ratings shot up after that clip and the next one:

CM: "Do you have a crush on ___?"

"W-what!? N-no!!! (Incoherent Levi noises and he trips)"

That clip became a viral meme for weeks

I'm talking remixes and everything

In the end his camera crew actually did have a lot of fun with him and they game online together now

Satan:

"Watch your step. Oh, don't touch that!"

His camera crew had a difficult time with him

He managed to avoid them frequently so he wasn't overly present in the show, much to the annoyance of Lucifer and the others

If they did catch him, all the clips looked the same, all he did was read

They did manage to catch him feeding some stray devildom kitties

[Camera zooms in on him in his room with a collared cat on his lap]

CM: "I thought you couldn't have pets?"

"It's not mine. Clearly, I can't control what comes in my room as of late."

CM: "It has a collar?"

"Next question."

CM: "What can you tell us about the Anti-Lucifer League?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. Next question."

CM: "Okay... viewers want to know what's up with you and ___?"

[Satan opens a book and gets sucked in]

Asmo:

"It's like, Devilgram Live, but longer!"

Most unbothered out of everyone

He did get annoyed when they tried to catch him before he could start his morning beauty routine

He was scary, they caught it on camera...it was the only time the crew deleted a clip on a brothers request

Overall his crew had an easy time, it was standard to what they normally do, Asmo himself was fun

He was a natural, of course everyone loved him, who wouldn't?

Was the one to start drama for the sake of tv

Nothing too crazy just messed with Luci's schedule, got Mammon arrested, hid Levi's Ruri body pillow, little things really!

[Camera catches Asmo cuddling next to you]

CM: "You seem very fond of them!"

"I am! Oh maybe we can do like a one year WEDDING special later on!?"

Beel:

"Just don't get in my way I guess."

He wasn't really on board with the idea but not much he could do

His crew had an average time with him, he was easy and chill to film

They caught him doing a lot of activities like, cooking/baking, sports, gaming, it was surprising to viewers

His work out clips got a lot of views too, he was a busy demon

They filmed him helping around the house, even cleaning your room and leaving you little gift snacks

CM: "Wow, snacks? You must really like ___!"

"Yeah. I love them. I want to give them the world."He confidently admitted, smiling brightly

Had high ratings in the polls, the show gave everyone a new perspective of him who wasn't just a gluttonous beast

Belphie:

CM: "Is he breathing?"

"Zzz..."

The crew had an easy but boring time with him

There's only so many hours of a sleeping Belphie you can record

The were some soft serene moments with him,Beel and you, gazing at the stars

[Camera catches him sleeping, smiling and mumbling something about you]

CM (poking): "Belphie wanna share what you were dreaming about? We heard you call their name. "

"Only if the network agrees to air it unfiltered. It will be very descriptive."

CM:

CM: "That's a wrap guys."

⬦You might also like: MC's Livestream

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me shitpost #obey me humor #obey me headcanons #obey me hcs #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me fic #obey me crack #obey me imagines #◇˖・ﾟ— › cosmic obey me . ⊹#shitpostcifer

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obsessedwrhys · 10 days

Note

Can we have a part 2 Deadpool reader with the boys and maybe soldier boy too❓❓ if you want to of course

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Boys x Deadpool!Reader

t/w: loooots of dark humour/jokes, reader's origin will be explained underneath, reader is still an asshole lol that comes with the character, mention about killing,death,gore, weed, drugs, Reader is gn!!!

ᯓ★ here's a version with the seven, kiss kiss <3

Origin:

Quick summary, when you were born, your parents had agreed with Vought to have you be pumped full of Compound V so you could grow up and be a hero working under them, but the problem was when you were around 7, they changed their mind so Vought ended up sending several people to come to your house to settle the matter.

Your whole family was massacred in the living room during thanksgiving and when they tried to capture you. You were able to run away. Homeless and living on the street, you grew up in a life of crime, depending on nobody but yourself. Make sense? No? Good! Let's start now.

BUTCHER

To him, you were like a fly that won't leave him alone.

How he knew you was through Mallory, she thought you were okay and fit for the job since you hated Vought just as much.

Obviously he didn't like you once you were introduced to him and the two (M.M and Frenchie)

"No way am I lettin' a supe join us"

":("

Though after what happened to Mallory's grandchildren, the gang pretty much dispersed but wherever Butcher went, you followed. Since he was the only person you trusted... and also enjoy annoying the shit out of.

He'd head inside a club, relieved he hadn't seen you for the past few days so he decided to grab a drink by the bar to unwind.

"Whiskey" He said with his eyes looking around, paranoia shown on his face.

Once his drink was served, he would look back to find your eyes smiling at him, you were wearing a bartender disguise over your red suit.

"Did you miss me?"

"Oh christ..."

When you heard word that he was gathering back the team, you had to be there. What kind of friend would you be if you didn't?

Undoubtedly he had to admit, there were times where he was grateful to have you on the team but there were also other times he regretted it.

For example, that time when you guys needed to sneak into a lab to get something and the goal was to stay quiet but even that simple rule was hard for you to follow.

"Room's up ahead. (Y/N) I need you to—"

"Heads up!" You said as you threw a bomb at the metal door.

The explosion causing the alarm to turn on and it had the whole lab now on high alert. You shrug innocently when Butcher glared at you like he wanted to tear you apart.

Also, you enjoy constantly pissing him off. You can't die so you don't really care if he'll kill you for it.

"Maybe, if you didn' press the fuckin' button, we wouldn't have to come bac' to save yer ass from the guards"

"OOH GOD SAVE THE QUEEEN!! Please, cry me a fucking river. I got us the target didn't I?"

"He's dead"

"Well you weren't being specific when you said to capture him"

But it's fine, all his frustration will be solved once he uses you as bait. He knows you can't die but hey, it makes him feel slightly better watching you get shot at.

Despite your ups and downs, he appreciates you. When the team would turn against him on his insane journey for revenge, he always found you the only one still standing by his side. You're loyal and he likes that.

Compatibility? 75%

HUGHIE

You treat him like a child.

No seriously you baby talk him sometimes and it annoys him

"Awwwww is little hughie angry?"

"Stop..."

"Does baby want his milky?"

Since he's pretty much the only person who isn't that exposed to crime as the others, he's terrified 100% everytime when he's paired up to do any dirty work with you.

"Now listen buddy, you better start talking or I'm gonna shoot" You said, gun raised at the man who seemed to be begging you to spare his life in a language you didn't speak.

"I don't think he speaks English"

"Ah shit... ENGLISH!! SPEAK!! ABCDEFG??!"

"How is shouting in English gonna make him understand?"

"Eh, you're right"

BANG

"WHY'D YOU SHOOT HIM??!"

"Well did you expect me to pull out Duolingo and start taking classes?!"

You had to admit, it was a pain in the ass each time he starts giving you the cold shoulder whenever he gets mad at you for doing something terrible. It was like his way of guilt tripping you so you always try to apologise in your own ways.

"Hey..." You said, handing him ice cream.

"...I uh... I don’t like Strawberry ice cream... I thought I told you that"

"God you're so ungrateful!!"

Since he was such a scaredy cat, you try to tone down your craziness a bit. For the sake of him not going into cardiac arrest.

"(Y/N) STOP!! She has nothing to do with this!! She was tricked" Hughie grabbed you by the arm to pull your gun away from the innocent woman.

You turn your head to look at him, then at the woman, then at him again, then the woman, then him again.

"Ugh finnnne... you're boring..."

However, he does appreciate you trying to be a better person. Even you had to admit, after you met him and became friends. You noticed yourself being less brutal than you used to be. The thought keeps you awake at night and it scares the shit out of you.

But oh well, how could you ever say no to those scared little puppy eyes?

Compatibility? 55%

FRENCHIE

He's like your hype man which is concerning.

Not because you're not afraid to get the job done but also because you always have his back.

"Well... I need some gunpowder but I've run out of them" Frenchie said, telling Butcher that the plan was most likely not gonna happen.

"Hold on" You said with the typical comical ☝🏻 gesture before heading into a different room. Everyone exchanging confused glances at what you could possibly be doing.

After a few minutes you'd return with a bag of gunpowder while struggling to zip up your pants with the other hand.

"Don't tell me how I got it. It almost tore me apart" You said, rubbing your ass.

On stressful nights, you guys would enjoy smoking weed together by the sofa and share stories of your traumatic childhood. It's how you guys bond and it's oddly wholesome.

Also when he needs a shoulder to cry on, you were always there for him. You two shared a type of relationship that even Romeo and Juliet couldn't compete with. To be fair they're dead so they actually can't fight.

"Hey reader!! If you're gonna keep reading then you might as well give the post a like or a repost. C'mon, pleassssseeee pleasepleaseplease"

"Ma cerise, who are you talking to?"

Although he doesn't mind your behaviour sometimes but he won't tolerate it if you ever cross the line on something. He's like the owner who sprays water at his pet cat when they don't listen.

"What are you mad at me for?!?!"

"You damn near tried to get us killed!!"

"Hey! You're the one who said it would be a suicide mission so I made sure it was a suicide mission!!"

"WHAT?"

There's no way he can deny how curious he is about where you get your guns and things. He once went in your room to find boxes of dynamite and a RPG just placed against the wall like furniture.

Like do you have a supplier or are you your own supplier?

Compatibility? 99.9%

M.M

Everybody deserves second chances.

He always tells him that to calm himself down everytime you managed to fuck up a thoroughly planned mission.

"What did I say about pressing buttons (Y/N)?"

"Honestly I stopped paying attention after you said 'Listen here'."

M.M has to be the only person you fear to the fact you try very hard to avoid him, this is because his long ass lectures are such a pain to deal with.

"How many times do I have to remind you? You can't just go around doing shit like that. You gotta consider the amount of danger you'll put everyone in..."

"(Blah blah blah... he's still going... uggggh... make it stop...!)"

Unable to handle the lecture any longer, you ended up shooting yourself in the head.

"(Y/N)!" His tone more disappointed than concern since this wasn't the first time you did this to escape his talks.

You know that russian dollhouse he tries to build in season 2? Well you'd constantly be found standing or sitting near him when he's trying to finish the set.

Since you're aware of his OCD, you like to edge him on by sometimes rearranging the parts or stealing some of it so he ends up searching high and low for the missing parts.

You had to admit it was entertaining to watch him accuse other people for touching his stuff when it was you behind all the schemes.

I'd like to think that after every mission when you happen to die, he'd be the one in charge of collecting your remains so you'd grow back.

That's why it comes naturally that his job is to make sure you don't do anything extreme.

"Where are my bombs??!?!" You'd shout, storming around the place looking for them.

"I sold them. Thought it'd do us more good knowing you won’t accidentally blow us up"

"WHAT?! GOD! It's like the writers of the show couldn't afford another explosion for this season so they had to use this DUMB of an excuse!!"

Though he does see some good in you through the messed up parts, he once saw you give his daughter a cute teddy bear when they've been burned by Vought.

She still has the bear and M.M likes to think that maybe you have a soft spot for kids since you never had a proper childhood. That's why he chooses to understand you rather than just being ignorant about your behaviour.

Compatibility? 80%

KIMIKO

She finds you a little odd but she doesn't mind once she realises how everyone is used to you being like that.

Whenever you're bored, you'd come to see what she was up to. Just imagine you sitting on the sofa like a curious kid as you watch her write alphabets on the book.

She also tries to communicate with you since she thought maybe your fucked up mind would understand her better in a way. Like how in season 2 she was repeatedly writing 'boy' to Frenchie but he didn't understand, so she came to you.

"Woow... watching you try to talk to me is like watching a baby take it's first breath..."

"😐"

"It's beautiful..."

Turns out her theory was wrong, you had a harder time understanding her compared to the rest.

Since you're the only two people in the group with powers, most of the time you two are sent on dangerous missions together. It's a nightmare for her because everybody knows communication is key but one is mute and the other doesn't listen.

"(Be quiet! There's people in the other room!)" She'd sign to you but you were busy humming a song while throwing around the enemies equipment.

"Oooh, what's this?" You held up a Homelander figurine which made you laugh as you show it to her.

"Hey look! 'I'm Homelander, I'm God's favourite. I play golf with Jesus every Sunday."

"(Can you please take this seriously?)"

"You're right, you gotta stop messing around Kimiko! We have a target to kill here" You said and you threw the figurine away which apparently clashes into a stack of boxes that came crashing down. The sound making everyone inside the building grab their weapons and began cornering you two in the room.

"😡"

"Okay that wasn't me that was gravity"

For the boys, you were plan A and she was plan B. That's because you always end up rushing into a fight first which most of the time resulted in you getting dismembered, which she later comes in to save you.

For example when Stormfront had stopped you guys, your bright ass thought it was a good idea to charge at her even though everyone was signalling you to stop. Next thing you know you were just a head being carried by M.M, you ended up watching as Kimiko fought Stormfront with the help of Starlight and Queen Maeve.

"That's my girl!! Now can anyone lend me a hand? I think I lost mine"

Compatibility? 97%

Bonus +

SOLDIER BOY

You know the scene where he walks out of his containment with the gas surrounding him? You swore when you watched him step out butt naked, you could hear angels singing and trumpets playing inside your head.

Shockingly enough, he was the only person who appreciated your humour. Could be a generation thing. He's just relieved not everyone has gone soft over the years.

In a way, you feel like you've become his babysitter. Everytime Butcher and Hughie left to do some business, you were in charge of making sure he doesn't blow up anyone. You kept him entertained so he didn't mind. That's why on the hunt for his former team members, he immediately chose you to be by his side.

"I'll take red with me"

"Red as in the american flag or the russians?" You asked which had him do the typical boomer laugh.

"I like you, you're funny" He said with a strong pat on your shoulder.

Butcher doesn't mind you with him cause he trusts that you can keep him under control. Hughie on the other hand isn't sure if you can even keep yourself under control.

"Shhh... wait... do you hear that?"

"Ah shit, did I accidentally said my dirty thoughts out loud? It's just you look breedable in that suit"

Another thing he likes about you is that you're okay with killing pretty much anyone, just try not to overstep cause that could potentially piss him off.

"I told you he's mine" He said as he had you pinned against one of the trees, apparently you had shot Mindstorm in the head when he literally made it clear to you minutes ago that was his kill.

"Quite possessive aren't you? I can recommended a therapist I know. Her names Martha—"

"You shut your mouth before I shove my shield up your ass"

"Gasp don't you DARE threaten me with a good time!!"

At the end of Season 3, you would obviously side with Butcher when everyone started to turn against Soldier Boy. He had to admit he was kinda hurt though, he expected you to be on his side.

"So what? You're crawling back to him now? After what we've been through?"

"Sorry big daddy, but Butcher has been my day one and I also happen to love him veryvery much"

Cue Butcher rolling his eyes out of disgust.

Compatibility? 100% but after the betrayal? 0% 😔

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thisonehere · 4 months

Note

i saw your prostate massage hcs for some mk men, and i was wondering if u could do the same thing with raiden, kenshi, and rain?

Sure, why not lol

A Totally Normal Prostate Exam Pt. 2

A/n: Sure, I'll be honest, this is a wild way for me to start the new year... I'm not mad at it though lol Tags: MK1, MK AU, NSFW, MDNI C/w: Anal sex, fingering, dom!sex, mentions bodily fluids, overstimulation, himbofication, degradation kink, you make them your bitch, not fully proofread, g/n reader Last part

Raiden

The man almost had a heart attack the moment you asked. You made him so shy that the man struggled to hold your hand, looking into your eyes. The idea of you fingering him is a threatening one, even terrifying. He is unsure, he hesitates. During sex, he was passive, never being on top or submissive. Doing such a thing was But the thing is, he really likes you. A moment to be alone with you would hurt, right?

He lies on his back, and his palms are sweaty. He is unbelievably nervous though he tries to put on a brave face. He lifts his legs and reveals cute, soft-ass you.

You notice his nervousness, so you give foreplay as you compliment him. You rub your fingers around his little hole causing him to giggle and blush.

Finally sensing that he's ready, you fully plunge your fingers into him. He gasps, he feels every inch of your finger rubbing against his anal walls.

After a few moments of getting used to your touch and this feeling, Raiden finally relaxed and embraced it. It actually felt better than he thought it would be.

Raiden does whimper at your touch, but he also does another thing: he laughs. This is such a strange feeling to him. It not only makes him feel perfect, but it also makes him feel slightly ticklish.

He looks up and gives you a smile as you continue. "Keep going, Y/n, We're almost there..." He cheers you on as he starts to play with himself.

As you edge nearer and nearer to its climax, electricity buzzes inside and outside his body. It tingles and teases your fingers, it doesn't hurt at first. But slowly and surely it you can feel it becomes more and more intense as you continue.

Finally, Raiden comes. His semen spills out the hole of his cock and splatters all over his face, chest, and abs. The electricity that was around him caused you to scream in surprise and pain as it electrocutes your entire hand. You feel the electrical current go throughout your whole arm which causes it to go numb in the most painful way. You quickly pull out your finger in a hurry which gets Raiden's attention. He is pulled out of his daze and back to reality.

Raiden sits upright and looks at you concerned. He sees your electrocuted fingers and an instant regret washes over him. "Oh, Y/n, I'm so sorry. I-I knew was a mistake." He takes your hand into his and in his and inspects it attentively. He looks up at you embarrassed. "We need to get you medical attention...Uh...next time...we should use something else... maybe something more phallic..."

Kenshi

If this man drinking he will spit it out after hearing this. He's definitely not on board with this. "Why the hell would he do that?" That's it, flat-out rejection. The end... Until of course, he couldn't stop thinking about it. The idea of you touching, and fondling him, caused him to get harder and harder as he went on to think about it, He can't take it anymore. So, finally, he yielded and agreed to this.

Now there he is, on all fours, his back and his tight, fine ass facing you. It pulsates open and shut eagerly awaiting your touch. "Okay, Y/n, let's make this quick."

Kenshi can't help but gasp in surprise as he feels you thrust your fingers into him. "Shit!" He cries. The feeling of you inside him is so strange, it takes him some time to finally get used to it. His ass slowly begins to soften up as he gets used to the feeling, this sensation starts to feel much better and better.

He continues to gasp and his body shivers as you go deeper and deeper into him. He curses and whines in between every moan, he's loving this just as much as he's hating it.

Being with the Yakuza for so long had stunted Kenshi's sexual drive and instead created a disturbed appetite for violence inside of him. He was grateful he left and even more grateful he found you. With you, what you doing to him, makes him feel things that he's never felt before.

As you continue, Kenshi feels his hands wander as he starts to touch himself all over. Feelings rush throughout his body that he's never felt before. It's so overwhelming, it's amazing. His hands make their way to his cock and balls and he begins to play with himself.

You feel his hole starts to quiver and become more sensitive as you continue. You both can feel it, his climax.

Keshi's moans get louder and more curses slip through his mouth as he raises his head up and whines. "That's right. Fuck me, you sexy bitch!".

He insists that you start calling him slurs and other degrading stuff to get him off. He likes when you call him a slut and filth. Maybe he'll even ask you to spit on him.

Finally he cums, a surprisingly a lot. This could possibly the first time he came this much. It spills out all the over the sheets and it's intoxicating smell rushes throughout the room.

He turns and looks at you, a wild passion is in his eyes. "Now you've done it, you little slut." he growls as he grabs you and pulls you onto the bed with him. He gets top of you and smile. The two of you go at it for a few hours before you finally collapse and fall asleep in each others arms.

Rain

The mage isn't panicked nor does he immediately shut you down. He's more confused.He's not fully against the concept, but he isn't 100% for it either. But he does trust you, he love you, you'd never do anything that would hurt him, right?

So he gives little resistance as he gets naked and lies on his back for you. He grabs his legs and attempts to spread them, which is hard considering he isn't all that flexible. Spreading his ass checks to reveal his beautiful brown hole to you. "You'll be gentle with me, right?" he asks, still unsure and a little nervous.

He screams as your finger dive into his heat. You hesitate and almost pull out until rain grabs your hand and pulls you back into him. "There is no turning back now...do it." he demands.

Your finger(s) rub his anal walls, somehow you hit all the right spots even though it is supposedly your first time.

Rain rubs his body as he moans, one hand squeezes his huge chest while the other rubs his abs. Eventually they make their way down to his dick and balls.

Rain thought he knew every form of pleasure when mastered all forms of magic that was available to him and when he had met, but now, he is experiencing a new pleasure he never even knew was possible. "Amazing..." He moans.

His body shivers and his moans grow louder. The possibility is high that people can hear you. But you don't care and Rain especially doesn't care, maybe he will later but right now he is focused on the feeling coursing through his body.

Before you know it, he cums. His hot semen squirts out, drenching both him and you with its sticky substance. He slowly pull your finger out as Rain just lies there on his with his eyes wide open in awe.

He abruptly sits up and grabs onto you, an insatiable hunger is no in his eyes. "More, you have to show me more." He insists. Rain is a very ambitious man, he has mastered multiple forms magic, now he wishes to master multiple forms of sex. As many as he can. And he want to do it with you.

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blackcherryvelvet0909 · 9 months

Text

Sandcastle King (Leona x GN!Reader)

You admired the many sandcastles as you walked along the beach. They were all constructed uniquely to the tastes of their sculptors - to the dorms they belonged to. Despite the short two hour time frame, they were all so intricately designed, every detail well thought out. The most impressive, in your opinion, was the ones belonging to Diasomnia, Octavinelle, and Savanaclaw. They were around the same size as the others, but the way they were erected was most impressive. Diasomnia’s almost looked as though it were made of stone - Malleus’s craftsmanship, no doubt. Octavinelle’s was a near-exact replica of the dorm itself, special seashells placed on the peak of the towers resembling the spires of Octavinelle.

Savanaclaw’s sandcastle, however, had been the one to win out. You honestly hadn’t expected much, and neither had the other onlookers. Of course, Jack and Ruggie worked hard, along with some other students, but there were those who really didn’t do anything at all. It was hard to get even half the dorm to participate! You supposed it was because magic was not allowed to be used to construct the castles; apparently some could not last without their magic for more than a couple hours. Leona himself, the leader of them all, had grumbled away about the magicless competition as well. He really didn’t do much in terms of labor…but he showed up in other areas of the contest.

Never would you have guessed Leona knew so much about architecture, nor how such structures would hold up with sand as their body. Despite the difficulties of crafting with such loose material, Leona had managed everything so well that nary a crisis had occurred during the castle's construction. Truly, Leona’s secret knowledge was the envy of all other contestants - you noticed even Malleus pouted when Savanaclaw won. Never would anyone doubt Leona again. Well, in the construction and design department, at least. Any other kind of task was up for debate.

You gazed out to the sea, various Savanaclaw students splashing in the crystal waters. Most were still celebrating their victory, even though some hadn’t contributed at all. You glanced over to your right to see Ruggie sitting pretty in a chair close to the shoreline, the throng of corndogs he’d received as his prize nearly gone. He could certainly gobble down food in a hurry. You hoped he was getting enough to eat during the trip. As for Jack, he’d gone with Epel and Deuce to get some ice cream - and Ace some aloe vera. He never listened when people warned him to put on sunscreen…

As you scanned the beach, wondering what to do next, you finally spotted the king of the castle himself: Leona. He was laid back on a large towel, eyes closed as he took in the sun’s rays. He looked like he was sleeping - you weren’t surprised. For someone who napped a lot, you expected him to be tired after the competition. You were honestly surprised he participated at all; at first, he was going to assign Ruggie to lead the pack to victory. It was when Malleus taunted him for turning tail that Leona agreed to the whole thing. You were sure Malleus regretted that teasing now.

Before you realized it, you were standing beside Leona. You watched him sleep for a minute, his bangs brushed aside to keep sweat out of them. His arms were folded behind his head, chest rising and falling steadily. Idia was right that one time he ranked your friends by attractiveness: Leona was, indeed, one of the top three men on campus. You wondered if that was why he and Malleus fought sometimes, to see who could outbest the other in that regard. You would have to ask Malleus to confirm later - you doubted Leona would tell you.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when Leona’s eyes suddenly opened. He stared up at you, brow furrowed as he nearly snarled. “Oi, I’m sleepin’ here. You’re blockin’ the sun.”

You couldn’t help but tease. “I thought you liked the shade?”

“Yeah, when I feel like it.” He smacked your leg with the back of his hand. “Move.”

“You can’t even ask me nicely?”

“You want me to make you?”

“Alright, alright,” you stepped out of the way, “you don’t have to be so whiney.”

He grumbled as he turned to lay on his side, away from you. “I’m not whiney.”

“Yeah, right!” you laughed. “You’re whinier than Ace half the time!”

Leona glanced over his shoulder at you, thoroughly unamused. “Are you gonna keep mocking me, or can I finally enjoy the sun in peace?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going.” You began to walk away as you mumbled to yourself. “It’s not like you need it anyway.”

A small gasp left your lips as a large hand wrapped around your ankle. You looked back to see Leona, glare directed up at you. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, you’re already tanned,” you replied. “I don’t think you can get anymore baked.”

“That so?” A sly smile stretched across his face. Oh no. “‘S that why you were oglin’ me?”

You scoffed. “Ogling? I wasn’t ogling.”

“Suuure you weren’t.” You stumbled as Leona tugged at your leg, forcing you to come closer. “Tryin’ to get a look at one of the college’s ‘top tier men’, right?”

If you were beastmen your ears would have perked up in shock at the familiar term. “Where did you…?”

“Ruggie,” Leona said. “He overheard your lil conversation with radish sprout the other night. Thought it was so funny he’d tell me about it.” He smirked as he eyed you mischievously. “And you know what he told me? He said you agree enthusiastically when Idia said I was in the top three.”

Well, caught red-handed, weren’t you? You could not stop the blush that tore across your cheeks, embarrassment flooding your veins. You wanted to run, and then maybe go dig a sandpit and die. Your eyes glanced over to Ruggie, who happily bit into his last corndog. You’d deal with him later. For now, you had your honor to defend.

“Y-Yeah, and?” You mentally cursed yourself for stuttering. “I’m not gonna lie and say you’re ugly.”

“So I’m handsome then?” He was practically grinning now.

“I never said that…”

“They say the truth will set you free~”

“Oh, shut up!”

Leona breathed out a sound of amusement as he shrugged. “Suit yourself.” You thought you were finally free from this humiliation - and then you felt yourself fall. You yelped in surprise, hand flailing to try and grab onto something to catch yourself. Instead, your back hit Leona’s towel. You felt arms circle you and tug you close into a near suffocating hold. Leona’s expression was unreadable now, as his face was now hidden in the crook of your neck, but you could hear the amusement in his voice.

“Guess I’ll just have to keep you here until you come clean.”

Though you struggled in his grasp, it was no use - he was too strong for you. There was no escape. You glared daggers into the top of the lion’s head as you spoke. “Leona, I have to go-”

“Well, you’re not.”

“I need to see where Grim-”

“He can take care of himself for a bit.”

“Leona, get off me!”

Leona’s ears twitched, as though searching for genuine hurt in your voice. When he found none, his hold grew ever tighter. You felt him smile against your neck, “As I said, the truth will set you free.”

“Bastard,” you hissed.

“Yeah, yeah,” Leona brushed you off as he relaxed. “Wake me up when you’re ready for a confession.”

He meant yours, no doubt. You didn’t want to, you wouldn’t! He’d have to get tired of this at some point; once he let you go, loosened his grip just enough, you’d run and never look back! Maybe one of your friends could help you escape…you hoped. For now, you had no choice but to sit - well, lay - tight and get comfy. Hopefully your sunscreen hadn’t washed off earlier, or you’d surely end up just like Ace. You sighed as you stared up at the sky, an incoherent grumble spoken under your breath.

The purr that reverberated through Leona’s chest was surely at your strife.

#Twisted Wonderland: Beach Episode Mini Series #my work #twisted wonderland #twst leona #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #twst leona x reader #twst x reader #twst ruggie #ruggie bucchi #gender neutral reader #sunbathing #sandcastles

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onceuponastory · 1 year

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all this love - bucky barnes x reader

I took all this love I found, and I hope that it's enough Is it enough? - only love by pvris

Plot: After John Walker oversteps, Y/N makes sure that her boyfriend Bucky knows just how much she loves him. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: John Walker being an asshole, some violence (not from Bucky), slightly graphic mentions of injuries and blood, a few mentions of Bucky’s past as The Winter Soldier, and the anxiety/self doubt he has afterwards. As always, if I miss any triggers please let me know! Notes: Some of you may know but I love PVRIS, and I love this song, so of course I had to write something for Bucky using it. Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own. Also, thanks again to @staticscreenwriting / @astartothemoon for my dividers!

Y/N scans the room, keeping an eye out for Karli and the other Flag Smashers. As she does, she suppresses a sigh. She loves accompanying Bucky and Sam on their missions and helping them as best as she can, but this time it’s different. For once, she can’t wait to get home. Mostly because of their company - John Walker.

At first, she tried to be civil, even though she, like the others, doesn’t agree with him being made Captain America. And Lemar is friendly enough. But John’s done nothing but be annoying and rude to them all ever since they joined forces. At least once this is over, they can forget he ever existed.

Right now, John’s complaining about something yet again, angrily pacing around as he does. “John, just calm down. We’ll find Karli soon.” Y/N insists. Immediately, John stops, his head whipping round angrily. Despite how annoyed he makes her, the glare John gives her at that moment strikes fear into her heart.

“Don’t do that Y/N. Don’t fucking patronise me. You have no idea of the pressure I’m under.” He warns. As soon as he takes a step towards her, Bucky and Sam are by her side, ready to shield her if needed. Bucky’s face hardens angrily.

“She wasn’t patronising you, John. And you better watch your tone. Don't talk to my girlfriend like that.” Bucky warns, his eyes narrowing slightly. However, instead of backing off, John keeps going, this time turning his attention to Bucky.

“Or what? Are you going to go all Winter Soldier on me?” He scoffs. Bucky visibly tenses at John’s words. Protectively, Y/N steps forward, reaching out for Bucky’s hand. “This is really easy for you, isn’t it? All that serum running through your veins.” John continues, not caring about the obvious effect his words are having on Bucky.

“Watch your fucking tone….” Y/N hisses. Yet John ignores her warning, continuing his verbal tirade on Bucky.

“I mean, does anyone here really trust him after what he did? Who’s to say he’s not working with them, or that he won’t try to kill us too?” Y/N’s anger grows, and she tightens her grip on Bucky’s hand.

“John.” Sam warns. Bucky opens his mouth, about to defend himself.

“What? Don’t act like you don’t agree. He’s a monster who doesn’t deserve to be here.” And with those words, Bucky’s face falls. He turns and looks at Y/N, his eyes shimmering with tears. The sight breaks Y/N’s heart. Before she can say anything, Bucky turns and storms off.

“Bucky! Bucky, wait!” Y/N calls after him. Just as she’s about to go after him, John’s smug voice sounds once more.

“I don’t know why she’s going after him. He’s not worth it. She’s too good for someone like that, anyway.” He murmurs, clearly intending for her to hear him. Y/N’s blood boils, and her fist clenches.

“Y/N….” She registers Sam’s voice beside her, warning John to be quiet, and for her to control her anger before she does something she regrets. And for a moment, she considers doing just that, and simply going after Bucky. Yet, John’s next words seal his fate.

“Besides, I’m a much better choice. At least I’m not a murderer.” Y/N turns around, marching right up to John. He sneers at her, the look making her stomach churn. But she’s too blinded by anger to think about that right now. “See, she understands-” John’s words are cut short by Y/N’s fist connecting with his nose. A sickening crack fills the room, and John hisses as blood begins to pour from his nose. “You fucking bitch.” He hisses, lunging for her before being pulled back by Lemar in the nick of time, whilst Sam pulls her back, protectively grasping her arm.

“Say that shit about my boyfriend again, and I’ll end you.” She warns, her voice like venom. Sam’s voice sounds again, telling her to choose her next words carefully. Of course, she knows he’s right, but she ignores him, too angry to even think straight. “He never chose to be a killer, but you chose to be an asshole.” She blocks out whatever the rest of John says, consumed by her desire to find Bucky safe and well.

“I’m going to go find him. Can you deal with…that?” She gestures vaguely in John’s direction, and Sam nods.

Y/N visits several places to try and find Bucky: a park, a number of coffee shops and bars, searching high and low for the brunette super soldier she loves more than anything in the world. And yet, there’s no sign of him. With each failed sighting, Y/N’s stomach churns more and more with anxiety, and her heart pounds more and more. Bucky is fast, and he could be anywhere by now. The next time she sees John, she’s going to do more than break his nose. Suddenly, her phone starts ringing, and for a moment, her heart almost stops, thinking it’s Bucky.

When she sees Sam’s name flash up on her caller ID, she can’t help feeling disappointed. But she knows Sam is Bucky’s friend too, and he wants to help find him just as much as she does.

“Any sign of him?”

“Nope. Checked everywhere nearby I could think of. Any news on your side?”

“None yet.” He replies, and she sighs. “Look, I’ll take the wings and see if I can find him. You go to the house and see if he’s there.”

“Okay.” Sam can immediately pick up on the anxiety in her voice, and he sighs.

“Y/N. We’ll find him, alright. I promise.”

“I hope you’re right.”

As soon as she steps into the house she shares with the boys, Y/N immediately senses that someone is there. Her heart rate picks up. Bucky. Maybe he’s here. “Bucky? Babe, are you there?” She calls. “It’s just me.”

“Go away.” A quiet, yet familiar voice calls. Despite how much her heart wrenches at the sound of pain in his voice, Y/N breathes a sigh of relief. He’s here, and safe. Y/N immediately sets off towards his voice, quickly texting Sam to let him know that Bucky’s okay. Bucky sits huddled beside their bed, curled up into a ball. He doesn’t even look up at her when she enters. The sight makes Y/N feel like a hundred daggers have been stabbed into her. She kneels down in front of him, gently placing her hand on his knee.

“Bucky, sweetheart, it's me.”

“I said, go away.” Bucky’s voice is muffled, but she can tell he’s been crying. Her eyes fill with tears, and she has to stop herself from finding John and punching him all over again. The fact someone like him, someone so rude and cruel, could make someone like Bucky feel so awful about himself infuriates her. “John’s right. I’m a monster. I don’t deserve anything good, especially not you.” Bucky sniffles, and Y/N’s heart breaks all over again.

“No, you’re not Bucky. What you did all those years, it wasn’t you. They tortured you and brainwashed you. It wasn’t your choice.” She insists. “The serum never corrupted Steve, but it didn’t corrupt you either. They made you a killer. It wasn’t your choice.” Bucky looks up at her then, the skin around his eyes red from crying. Y/N’s face softens. “You’re making amends and showing people you’re sorry. That says a lot about you. John has no idea what the fuck he’s talking about. He’s just an asshole.”

“But the serum is still in me. W-What if I hurt you?”

“You could never. All you’ve done is show me love and support. Honestly, I don’t think you’ve got an evil bone in your body.” Bucky takes her hand, squeezing it tightly, which Y/N returns. Even before they got together, Bucky has supported and protected her through it all, and now it’s her turn to do the same.

“You still deserve someone better. Someone who isn’t as broken and messed up as me. I thought I wasn’t good enough for you ever since we got together, and even John sees it, too.” Y/N leans in, gently kissing his forehead.

“Hey…I love you, Bucky. Nobody else, just you.” She insists, cupping his cheek in her palm and using her thumb to wipe away his tears. “And I love you just the way you are. To me, you’re the best person in the world. Don’t listen to John Walker. He’s not even half of the man you are. I know I can’t possibly take away all your pain and trauma, but I’ll be here to tell you just how good you are and how much I love you every day.”

“You’re such a good person, Y/N.” Bucky mumbles. “So kind, and so loving.”

“So are you. And you show me that every day.” Bucky shuffles forward into her embrace, wrapping his metal arm around her tightly.

They sit together for a while, Y/N letting Bucky cry as she holds him protectively, and whispering reassurances in his ear. “I’m going to be here forever, Buck. You’re stuck with me, I’m afraid.” She tells him when they pull away. Bucky manages a chuckle at that, and it makes her heart flutter. He gazes at her, smiling like she hung the moon.

“I’m glad. I don’t think I could ever survive without you in my life.” Smiling, Y/N leans in close, gently kissing his lips.

“Me neither. Good thing that I’m not going anywhere.” Bucky takes her hand, pressing a kiss to it. Suddenly, he notices the bruise developing on her knuckles, and his eyes widen.

“What happened to you? Did he hurt you? He can say whatever he wants to me, but if he hurts you, then there’s going to be a problem.” Bucky insists. Just as he’s about to get up, Y/N stops him.

“Don’t worry. It wasn’t him that did it…sort of.” Bucky’s brow furrows, and Y/N chuckles. “I punched that smug fucker right in his face after what he said to you. I probably broke his nose, actually.” Bucky gasps.

“You did that for me?”

“Of course I did.” She shrugs. “He doesn’t get to mess with my boyfriend and make him feel like shit without facing the consequences.”

“Thank you.” Bucky smiles. “At least let me get you some ice, though.” He helps her up, gazing at her with a smile. Y/N’s stomach flutters once more. “I’m the luckiest guy in the world to have you protecting me, you know that?”

“Well, you protect me, so it’s only fair I return the favour.” He kisses her lips once more, and Y/N smiles. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Please follow @onceuponastory-library and turn on notifications to be notified when I next post!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #Bucky Barnes x female reader #bucky x Female Reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky oneshot #bucky one shot #bucky imagine #the falcon and the winter soldier fanfiction #marvel oneshot #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction

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moodcrab · 2 months

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Fixing Skyrim's Daedric Quests

Part II - Clavicus Vile

Honestly this was the most underwhelming Daedric Quest in Skyrim, but Skyrim is by no means unique in this as it's just the most recent in a long line of underwhelming Clavicus Vile quests in the Elder Scrolls franchise. Vile, the god of wishes, deals and dodgy monkey palm style tricks forms a natural counterpart to the Divine Zenithar, god of honest work and trade, but for some reason there isn't a Vile quest that isn't "Go to dungeon and kill X". Skyrim, to its credit, tried to make it interesting with Barbas, but still resorted to "go to this cave and kill this guy."

The whole story of Sebastian, the mage who wished for a lycanthropy cure for his daughter only for Vile to grant him an axe, is a truly boring misunderstanding of what Vile is all about. An axe isn't a cure, not even in an ironic double meaning of the word cure. Any axe, indeed any weapon or spell, can kill a werewolf, but he didn't wish for his daughter to be killed, something he could easily do without making a deal with the devil. There are several ways to cure lycanthropy in Tamriel, death is not one of them. If you have cancer but you die in a car accident you are not cured of cancer, literally the opposite in fact. This isn't a mind bending M Night plot twist, it's bullshit. Not only is a dead werewolf not a cured one, he didn't wish for his daughter to be killed, so there's nothing stopping him from just throwing the axe in the sea and going to find a Glenmoril Witch. Vile gains nothing from this arrangement, and Vile doesn't enter into arrangements that don't benefit him.

A true Vile wish would have cured the lycanthropy in such a way that causes unforeseen consequences that end up killing the daughter, dooming her soul to The Fields of Regret, his realm of Oblivion. The wish would be technically granted, but it backfired horribly. The only thing remotely Clavicus Vile-ish was the big "rug pull" at the end of the quest where he offers you the axe if you kill Barbas, and like, no. No thanks. I have access to better axes, I'm not killing a dog for this *two handed 🤮* one. I never wanted this axe, there is no reason in the quest to even use the axe yourself let alone grow attached to it, unlike Barbas who has now accompanied me all through the quest. This isn't a choice.

Quest: Best Wishes

The quest opener is being moved from Falkreath to Morthal, because vanilla Morthal has no general store. Well, now it does. Compared to all the other stores you visit it will have a unique look, very mysterious and quirky with oddities on the shelves, and the owner will be an eccentric character with a cute dog. For the quest to activate you must have traded at the store a few times and reached a level. On entering, the owner will be distraught and refuse to trade unless you agree to find his dog who has gone missing.

You go on a bit of a dog hunt. Asking around Morthal gets you little useful information. In fact, if you ask certain people, they will say some curious things; like they have no idea who you're talking about, or that there isn't a general store in Morthal at all, "Oh that old place? That closed down when I was a child after old man whatever died"...

You eventually track the dog down outside the city and, surprise, it talks! Barbas explains the situation, that he is the somewhat loyal side kick of Clavicus Vile, who has an offer for you. He also makes it clear, this offer is an invitation only, you would walk away right now if you were wise. Assuming you aren't a pussy, you of course return Barbas to the shop and hear the offer.

The shopkeeper transforms into Vile, in all his jovial Skaafin glory. He tells you about a wish he has recently received, one that he would like your help in granting. There's this would be merchant in the city of Whiterun named Ysolda, who you have likely already met as she is a very popular wifu, she has been a devout Zenithar worshipper for years, but has become impatient with waiting for her hard work to pay off. She really wants to be a trader, and has prayed to Vile to make it so. If you agree to take care of it for him, he will reward you. As Barbas has recommended, you can quit the quest right now. Or...

You head to Whiterun and start investigating Ysolda. It's up to you how the wish gets granted, depending on what you discover about her:

1. She would like to buy the Bannered Mare of her friend Hulda, who isn't ready to sell. So you could ruin the business to make Hulda desperate to sell, but Ysolda would get a ruined inn. Or you could forge Hulda's will and stage an "accident", so Ysolda inherits the inn at the expense of her friend's life.

2. She has done some work with the Khajiit caravans, learning what she can about mercantile skills, but expressing how hard and horrible their lifestyle sounds. Investigating this will lead you to a secret meeting between Ysolda and an Orc. The Orc hands Ysolda a "the goods" but Ysolda complains there isn't enough. The Orc explains how dangerous getting it is. Ysolda doesn't care, she tells him he needs to go get more. If you follow the Orc to Sleeping Tree Camp you'll witness his death at the hands of the giants there. On his body there is an incriminating note, which you could show to the Whiterun guard captain, who will banish her from the city as punishment. Ysolda will spend the rest of her days with the Khajiit caravan, living as a vagrant and exiled from her home, but a trader, just as she wished.

3. As Barbas, who will accompany you, advises, you could warn Ysolda and break your side of the bargain. She believes your story (how else could you have known about the wish?), but depending on your speechcraft and personality attribute - because a fixed Skyrim would obviously have attributes - you either strike the right amount of fear into her that she flees to the temple to seek sanctuary, or you miss your mark and she decides to go check out this shop in Morthal for herself. When she gets there Vile will reluctantly let her take over the store, but if Ysolda repents she will one day become a Priestess of Zenithar, and convert the shop into a fledgling temple.

Just Deserts

When you return to the general store in Morthal it will have transformed into an abandoned ruin.

Any outcome of options one or two will please Vile, he will award you his Masque which will be light or heavy armoured dependant on which skill is higher for you and it will have a powerful speechcraft, personality and price discount enchantment. You also have the opportunity later on to take over and run the shop yourself.

If Ysolda comes to Morthal to take over the store, Vile will be annoyed at you and Barbas for being boring, but will accept that the wish is technically granted and Ysolda, now his devotee, will be spending her afterlife in his realm. You get the Masque but she gets the store ( unless you marry her...)

If you break your deal and save Ysolda, you get a curse; permanent debuffs to speechcraft, personality and prices. The cost of being a hero is high, especially when it comes to the Daedra. (Maybe Ysolda can lift the curse once her temple is up and running, but that will be a while).

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demonic0angel · 6 months

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The “Imaginary” Friend one-shot is out! Read it here on AO3 or here!

CW: non-graphic violence, murder, arson, emotional manipulation, domestic abuse (from Willis Todd)

When Jason was little, he had a friend. It was only when he was able to understand words that he noticed that his "friend" wasn't very real.

"Mom, you don't see her?" Jason asked again in dismay. He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that nobody could see his friend! Couldn't they all see her red hair, blue eyes, and nice smile?

His mom looked at him with an odd look. "No, sweetie. She's imaginary, of course I can't see her."

Jason stared at her, trying to detect the lie, but he couldn't see it. Biting his lip, he turned to Jazz, who stared at him with big eyes and a small frown, looking as worried as he felt.

Again, he repeated, "You really can't see her?"

"No, I can't."

He accepted the pat his mom gave him while he stared, disgruntled at Jazz.

She was totally real!

… right?

The door opened and his mom stood up quickly, pushing him away and striding to the kitchen to prepare a meal. Jason stiffened and skittered away to his room, where he silently shut the door. Already, he could hear the shouts coming from his dad as he yelled at his mom.

"You stupid, slow bitch! What the fuck did I say about making dinner, huh?!"

Jason trembled in place, his heart aching as he resisted the urge to go out and help his mom. The last time he had done that, he had been hit so hard that his head knocked against the walls and his mom's screams had alerted the neighbors to them. That incident had made his dad control himself for a few weeks, but the fear and anger in his mom's eyes made Jason regret it.

He had been scolded so much that time, so he didn't know what to do now.

He couldn't leave his room, so he could only sink to the floor and wave Jazz closer. Jazz sat next to him and said, "My parents weren't like this. They're neglectful."

"Neglectful?" He asked. "You remember them?"

She shook her head. "It was a long time ago. I just recall a few memories. I had a brother named Danny."

"A brother?" He asked to confirm, and she nodded again. Jason blinked and thought about it. "I think I'd like some brothers. We could play games together!"

"Nuh uh." Jazz shook her head. "Siblings are annoying. They cry all day when they're babies. And poop all the time." Like an afterthought, she added, "They're stinky."

Jason snickered. "Then maybe I can have a big brother instead!"

Jazz sneered. "Why not a big sister?"

"Ew, girls are weird."

Jazz gasped in offense and then said, "Fine then! I curse you to have two younger brothers! And they'll fight all the time!"

Jason gasped and blurted, "Wait! I'm sorry! I'll have two sisters then!"

He knew that she said strange things, so he wholeheartedly believed that she had cursed him.

Jazz gave a pretentious 'hmph' and then said, "Fine. Then I'll mend the curse. Two younger brothers, two sisters, and a big brother. Okay?"

He nodded, agreeing immediately before she changed her mind and gave him three younger brothers.

With a sudden sinking heart, he realized that it didn't really matter. His mom said she was fake after all. Her voice, her looks, her everything, it was only his imagination.

"What's the matter, Jay?"

Even her nickname for him was probably fake.

But whatever. Jason would enjoy this anyways.

He smiled at her and said, "Nothing."

Jazz stared at him for a few moments, before she turned away and then said, "I think you should kill your dad."

Jason nearly jumped out of his skin, standing up in alarm to look down at her. "W-What are you talking about?! Kill him?!"

There was a loud crash outside his door and Jason clapped his hands over his mouth, sliding back down to the floor. He gave Jazz a glare, who smiled apologetically. When there was only more murmuring outside, he turned to her and said, "Why would you say that?!"

Jazz shrugged. "I don't know. Don't you think about it sometimes?"

"No! Normal people don't kill!" Jason said sternly.

Jazz stared at him for a moment, before she went, "Hmm," and then turned away again. Jason stared at her, baffled and definitely horrified.

How could he kill someone? Didn't her parents teach her that things like that were bad?

Jason suddenly remembered her parents ignoring her and he swallowed back the scolding words. Still, he felt uncomfortable with the thoughts that Jazz had now given him, because he couldn't help but imagine pushing his father down the stairs and getting him out of their lives once and for all.

Jazz remained silent for the rest of the day.

And Jason thought about it all night long.

————

Only a few weeks later, as Jason watched his dad grab his mom by the hair and toss her into a wall, he made his choice. He waited until the next morning, when the sun was still dark out, to push his father down the stairs when he went out to empty his bladder.

He and Jazz watched his father's head crack open on the ground and shine with a dark liquid, only barely shining red in the rising light of the sun.

"Come back inside, Jason." Jazz said. "Someone will see."

He went inside mechanically, quickly slinking back to his room and nuzzling against his thin pillows as Jazz sat next to him.

"I'm proud of you," she said quietly, and for a moment, Jason feared the person he would become with her praise.

————

He had thought that with his father's death, things would become better.

It did not.

Somehow, his mother had become depressed and people started to collect themselves around her.

One man in particular was uncomfortably close with her, always getting into her space and ignoring her stammered protests. He also would viciously glare at Jason every time he came nearby to get between them, but since Jason knew that he was afraid to hurt him in front of his mom, Jason took advantage of that to be really obnoxious.

"You should kill him too, Jay." She whispered, a trace of ghostly fingers brushing across his shoulders.

Jason stared at his soapy hands, in the midst of washing dishes, and he mumbled, "You're not real."

Ever since he had killed his father, he had regretted it.

A human life was too easy to take and it scared him.

"Are you sure about that? You suspected it, haven't you? I've helped guide you for so many years, Jay. Since you were a baby. It's been so long— how come I haven't disappeared yet?"

"... maybe I've been crazy from birth."

"Do you really believe that?" She asked, and he resisted the urge to shake his head and say no.

He didn't believe that.

But who would believe him if he said that his imaginary friend wasn't so imaginary and was actually real? Who would believe him if he said that the reason why he killed was because of her? Who would believe him if he said that his actions were influenced by a person nobody else could see?

He couldn't even believe it himself.

"Do you think I'm a bad influence on you?" She asked and he nodded.

"You are." He said without malice.

She laughed a little. "I am a bad influence." She admitted. Her fingers brushed against his shoulders. A trail of goosebumps rose wherever she touched, but he couldn't even tell if she had actually tried touching him or if he was imagining it all and his body was reacting to his thoughts.

Arms curled around his neck. He could feel the faint coldness of her body, but he felt no touch.

Was she even real?

"Jay," she said softly, "are you angry at me?"

"No."

It was the truth.

"Then why aren't you looking at me?"

Immediately, he tensed. He couldn't, because looking at her seemed to confirm his thoughts that she wasn't real and he was simply hallucinating.

It was terrifying.

He was scared.

Something touched his cheek and Jason couldn't help but turn around to look at her, his eyes wide. "D-Did you just kiss me?"

Jazz smiled, a faint blush covering her cheeks. "Yeah."

Jason's face felt hot. He didn't know what to say. Did she like him in that way? They had grown up together and although Jason had always entertained thoughts of marrying her when he was little, he was older now. And she wasn't real. What the hell was he all worried for?

Jason blinked out of it.

"I..." he started, but Jazz's ghostly fingers brushed against his lips to make him stop speaking and he paused immediately.

"It's okay if you don't believe me or yourself. You're not crazy, Jason. I'm real. I'm real and I'm with you right now." She smiled sweetly, and Jason relaxed unwillingly, his heart and body trusting in her words completely, even while his mind denied it all.

"I... I—"

"Shhh..." she shushed him softly. "Trust me, Jason. When have I ever lead you astray? When have I ever done you wrong? When have I ever lied to you?"

... she had never.

Jason closed his eyes so he couldn't see her. The moment he did, he could almost feel how disappointed she was as she was immediately silent and still. He was conflicted. He knew that murder was wrong, but when Jazz spoke so sweetly to him, he was afraid of what could happen. He was afraid that he would never be the same again if he continued this pattern of killing at her command.

"... I see." She said. "If that's how you feel, then I guess I'll just leave."

Fear, worse than the one he had felt when he had first killed, immediately washed over him like cold ice water. His eyes snapped open and he called out, "Wait! Wait, I'm sorry."

She paused.

He had never seen her leave him before. From as far as he could remember, he had never been separated from her side. They had been together through all hardships. He had never experienced a life without her and he didn't want to experience one now.

He immediately apologized. "I'm sorry. I-I'll do what you say."

Jazz frowned lightly when she faced him. "I don't want to force you. If we cannot agree, then it is better that we just separate or we'll fight all of the time."

"No! Please don't leave me!" Jason began to cry. He hadn't cried since he was a baby, and he felt even more ashamed of it now. He furiously wiped away the tears as he stuttered, "I-I'm just scared. But I don't want you to leave me."

She was quiet for a moment, and then she said, "Alright. Then I'll forgive you. I don't want you to be sad, Jason. I want you to be happy. I was made for your happiness." With that, she smiled a little and reached out. Her hands went through his tears but the sentiment of the gesture still made him calm down.

He sniffed and then asked, "What do you want me to do?"

"Be yourself, Jason. And come when I call." She smiled and then sat next to him. For the next few hours, they sat there in silence, with no other words left to say.

————

The man had killed his mom when she had refused his proposals too many times. The townspeople did not punish him for it, and he hated them all the more.

Even when his father had been publicly abusing him, they had done nothing but give condolences to his mother. They hadn't even offered food or coins, only their empty words.

So with a cold fury, Jason had slaughtered the man who killed his mother with a butcher's knife and fed him to his own pigs.

"What happens when I kill people, Jazz?" He asked, as he cleaned up the mess he had made. Jazz looked proudly at him as she stood next to his side, a reassuring presence as always.

She smiled. "You make me stronger. And soon enough, I'll be able to meet you and we can be together forever."

Jason's breath caught in his chest. "Forever?"

"Forever," she said firmly, and Jason was filled with such a sharp sense of longing that it surprised even him.

"Okay," he said with a nod. "You and I will definitely meet!"

She chuckled and didn't say anything else.

————

Jason grew older.

He was past the age where he would cry if anybody left him, but he never lost that fear of losing Jazz.

He picked up a sack of flour and called out, "Where do you want this?"

"In the storage room! Fendrel will tell you where!" The baker's wife said.

Jason went into the storage room, where the baker's son sat on top of one of the flour sacks, fiddling with a puzzle toy.

"Hey, where do I put this?" Jason asked.

Fendrel sneered at him and said, "Stop kissing my parents' ass. You won't get more money that way."

"In what way were you kissing ass?" Jazz said and Jason had to hold back the urge to laugh.

It must've shown on his face because Fendrel's expression soured.

"You're so goddamn annoying!" Fendrel spat. "You think that just because you're handsome and strong that you can do anything you want? Everyone knows that you're from a poor family and everyone knows that you're a disgusting orphan!"

Jason raised an eyebrow. "And you can say all of that, while coming from a baker's family with both parents and still being worse than me?"

Fendrel gave a shout of rage and moved to lunge at him but Jazz gave a simple, "The baker's wife is coming," and Jason didn't dodge, letting Fendrel smack him.

The moment he staggered back, the door opened and the baker's wife saw what was happening.

"Fendrel! How dare you?!" She looked apologetically at Jason. "I'm sorry about him. Here, your pay." She handed him a few coins, more than his expected pay, and then let him leave on his own with her fingers clasped around Fendril's ear as she dragged him about.

Fendrel yelped and pleaded and Jason watched with satisfaction before he left.

Jazz curled her arms around Jason, the light pressure of her weight a steady promise of what could happen if he continued to kill more people for her. She floated a little bit behind him, like how the stories would depict of ghosts.

In the past few years, she had grown beautiful and tall, even taller than him when she put her feet on the ground. Her red hair was long and straight, her eyes sparkled beautifully when she was happy, and her smile was one of the most radiant things he had ever seen.

Even her words were less childish, as if each kill that he gave her increased her knowledge. In a way, it was true. When he could afford to be distracted, she was always willing to offer random pieces of knowledge that he knew was useful to him. She had quickly become his mentor, friend, and most trusted confidant.

Seeing her grow alongside him, there but always out of reach, it caused the obsession inside of him to grow.

He lost the fear of what could happen as he grew older, losing his innocence with each new enemy he encountered when he was young, but he still refused to kill any of the innocent.

Because of that, he had only killed less than a dozen people in the past decade.

... still a lot, but not enough for Jazz to manifest herself.

But with each improvement of her form and her now being able to touch him, he was determined to find the right scumbag to sacrifice them to her.

Now...perhaps he found them.

"Should I...?" It was an unspoken question. Jazz rubbed her cold cheek against his neck and nodded.

"Yes. Take Fendrel for me, Jay. Create my body for yourself." She cooed.

Warmth oozed in Jason's stomach, curling up with satisfaction and pride.

"Got it, Princess," he muttered.

In a few days, he easily lured Fendrel to the cathedral on the edge of the town. It wasn’t difficult when Fendrel was easy to anger and Jason was quick on his feet and with his tongue. In a few moments, Fendrel was already chasing him with a mind consuming rage, thankfully with enough stupidity that he also called his buddies to follow so they could beat up Jason.

Along the way to the cathedral, Jazz whispered more secrets into his ear as they ran to the cathedral.

"The bookkeeper's wife is cheating on him with his brother."

"The youngest child of the seamstress died just a moment ago."

"The daughter of the miller is having a secret affair with the farmer's boy."

Jason just kept his breath in control and continued running.

When he arrived, he quickly ran inside the cathedral and turned around, where Fendrel stood at the door, panting and with a face full of rage.

"You're dead!" He snarled.

His friends caught up with them and they all entered through the door and went straight towards him. Jason stood in the middle of the cathedral, in front of the statue of the god of agriculture that the town usually worshipped.

Jason had been a little afraid of offending him when he had come in, but Jazz had already reassured him that he would face no consequences as long as he completed his mission to kill Fendrel and his goons. Two pairs of heavy gazes landed on him, one seemingly of great judgment while the other was gentle and loving.

The latter made him feel the most nervous.

Jason watched the boys in front of him try to intimidate him as they crossed over to him, before he looked up and tugged the rope that was attached to a large sack of flour that he had put on the ceilings. When he pulled the rope, the flour sack fell down with a heavy boom, putting flour everywhere.

The boys immediately began to cough, some having fallen down, and Jason took off running towards them, leaping upwards with a great jump and sailing over their heads before he ran to the door, threw it open, and then closed it. He locked it with the key he took from the local priest and then put a board over the lock, just to be sure.

The door was banged upon to no avail. They shouted and screamed and cursed, but Jason almost couldn’t hear them as blood rushed to his ears from the adrenaline.

Jason took a deep breath, looking into Jazz's calm eyes before he took a flint and steel out of his pocket.

He lit the cathedral on fire and took several steps back.

For a moment, the fire only calmly spread along the line of oil that Jason had put out early, before it went under the large door. He had planned everything so meticulously that it was almost ridiculous.

There was a moment of silence, and then the cathedral exploded.

Jason jumped and then smiled as the fire spread to the entire building and began to burn.

Several people had now been sacrificed for Jazz. It was a few more steps towards giving her a new body.

Soon, he would be able to meet her.

Suddenly, hands tugged him backwards into a soft chest.

A warm chest.

"Jazz?" He whispered. Could it be?

Was it actually enough?

"I'm here," Jazz said softly, laughing.

"You're here!" He beamed and turned around, eyes wide. Her cheeks were ruddy, her eyes glistening with the light of the fire, and her hair blew around her in waves from the heat and air.

She was so lovely that Jason didn't know if he was dreaming or not. Her hands were warm within his and his smile almost hurt with how much it stretched his face.

"You're really here!" He said again, unable to hold back his glee.

"Yes!" She said with another laugh. "I'm here." She brought one of his hands to her face and nuzzled his palm, her breath gusting over his fingers with warmth.

The glow of the raging fire behind them only made her look even more ethereal. She smiled and then said, "Thank you, Jason, for bringing me to this world."

She pulled him closer, and enchanted, he let himself be manipulated by her as she pulled his chin upwards.

"Let me reintroduce myself." She whispered with a smile. "I am Jazz, your own personal god of change and transformation. Jason Peter Todd, for your efforts in reviving me and bringing me into the mortal plane, I will make this world bow to your whims. Do you accept?"

He nodded dazedly and she pulled him by the head.

The fire burned behind them as she sealed their lips together with a promise.

With her here with him, they would never be apart again.

|||||||||||||||||||||||

Yes, later in the future, Jason will have two younger brothers who fight all the time, another younger brother, two sisters, and a big brother.

The reason why Jazz is a god of change and transformation is bc she changed and transformed Jason into who he was now, and Jason also changed and transformed her with each sacrifice.

On another note, the original idea of this fic was that Jazz was kind of like Jason’s subconscious that manifested into a girl that encouraged him to murder anyone and everyone that offended them. Some included Willis Todd, Felipe Garzonas, Sheila Haywood, etc. In the end, Jason becomes a gang leader of his own accord with his hallucination, Jazz, by his side. But that took too much brainpower from me so… this fic is more lighthearted than the others :)

Thank you to @meditating-cat for betaing!

#dc x dp #dp x dc #jazz fenton #jason todd #dcxdp #dpxdc #anger management #anger management ship #halloween one shots #jason x jazz #jazz x jason

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spaceman-earthgirl · 2 years

Text

Supercorptober 2022 Day 1: Summer

ao3 fic link.

“Spring is the perfect time to have a wedding,” Alex says. “It’s just warming up from winter but it’s not too hot yet, and you have all the pretty flowers which will look amazing in the photos.”

“But what about autumn? You have all the beautiful orange and red of the leaves and you could say the same thing about the temperature, it’s just cooling down, leading to winter,” Nia counters.

“But what about a beach wedding in summer? You could almost guarantee good weather and I showed you those photos of that beach wedding the other day, didn’t I, Alex? Those photos were stunning with the waves in the background,” Kelly says, looking at her wife for back up.

“They were beautiful but I still think a spring wedding would be perfect,” Alex replies.

“Yes, but…” Nia says, continuing the discussion but Kara tunes them out, feels the guilt building inside her again. She glances at Lena, can see the same guilt in Lena’s eyes.

Kara leans closer to Lena so they can’t be overheard. “We have to tell them.”

“I know,” Lena whispers back. They’ve been trying to tell their friends for a week, and on multiple occasions they’d been interrupted by an emergency so didn’t get a chance, and on a couple of occasions they’d both chickened out and decided to do it later.

But it’s later now and their friends and family are literally sitting around planning a wedding that isn’t going to take place.

Not because they’re not getting married, but because they already are.

They’d been engaged for exactly seventeen days, seventeen wonderful days when Kara had referred to Lena has her fiancée whenever she could, until Kara said she couldn’t wait to get married and Lena agreed and then they thought, why not? So, they just did it, and now Kara has had a wife for eight days and it’s time they break the news to their family.

“I love you,” Kara whispers, earning a quiet, “I love you, too,” from Lena and a kiss on the cheek that has Kara not regretting her decision. Sure, her sister and their friends are going to be upset that they missed them getting married, but Kara is the luckiest woman in the world to be able to call Lena her wife.

“You two have been awfully quiet, don’t you want to weigh in on plans for your own wedding?” Nia asks, drawing them both back into the conversation.

“Uhhh…about that,” Kara starts, glancing at Lena for help.

Alex misreads the hesitation. “If you want a long engagement, the wedding doesn’t have to be this spring, it could be next spring.”

“It’s the opposite, actually,” Lena says.

Alex glances between them both, trying to figure them out. It’d almost be easier if Alex did figure it out, then Kara wouldn’t have to be the one who would say it. The one thing she wishes for that day was that Alex had been there by her side, but she’d been too excited and too in love to really think it through. She’d just wanted to be able to call Lena her wife as soon as possible, everything else had been in the back of her mind.

“The opposite?”

“We wanted a short engagement.” Kara uses the past tense, but Alex doesn’t seem to notice.

“Spring is perfect then! It only gives us a couple of months to plan so it’ll be a bit rushed but we can do it.”

“What my…Kara, is trying to say,” Lena says, Kara not missing the almost slip. Since they got married, they’ve both been using the ‘W’ word as much as possible, but only when they’re alone of course. “Is that we wanted a short engagement…so we got married already.”

The last few words are said quietly, Lena not looking at their friends as she says them, but Kara is watching, wants to know what they’re thinking, how they’re feeling.

It takes a moment for Lena’s words to register, everyone clearly trying to figure out if they heard Lena correctly or not.

Alex is the first to react.

“You got married already? What do you mean, you got married already??”

“Umm…” Kara swallows. “It means we couldn’t wait and spontaneously went down to City Hall and got married.”

“Are you serious?” Alex asks, glancing between the two of them. “You actually got married?”

Alex doesn’t say it, but Kara hears the, “without me?”

“I’m sorry,” Kara says, reaching across to rest her hand over Alex’s. Maybe she should’ve just told Alex first, but it’s too late now. “I’m sorry we got married without you, I’m sorry I didn’t include you in one of the best days of my life. If I could do it again, that’s the one thing I’d change. I don’t regret it though,” Kara adds, because she doesn’t. “All I wanted was to be married to Lena and now I am. And it’s not the actual day that’s special, it’s the life we are going to live together. With you. And with everyone,” Kara adds, looking around the room at their other friends.

Alex sighs. “You don’t do things in halves, do you?”

Kara thinks that if that were true, they would’ve had a big wedding instead of just signing the papers, but she doesn’t say that.

“We can still have a party,” Lena says, taking Kara’s free hand. “It won’t be a wedding but the point is to celebrate our new union and we both want to celebrate that with our family.”

“That’s a great idea!” Nia exclaims, tearing out a page of the notebook she’d been jotting notes down in and starting a new page fresh.

Kara relaxes, and she feels Lena do the same beside her. No one is as upset as they’d been expecting.

“Congratulations,” Alex says. She stands, arms outstretched towards Kara and Kara gets the idea and stands too, pulling Lena with her. Alex’s arms wrap around them both and Kara leans into her sister’s touch.

“I said this when you and Kara got engaged and I’ll say it again now, welcome to the family,” Alex says, words directed at Lena.

Kara beams, they are family now, officially, and Kara’s never been happier.

#supergirl #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #alex danvers #supercorp fanfic #supercorptober2022

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kybercvnt · 2 years

Text

You Should Try the Fruit

Pairing – Padmé Amidala x Jedi F!Reader

Summary – On a trip to Naboo, Padmé invites you to her chambers to try some of her sweet fruit.

Word Count – 2103

Warnings – Mentions of nudity, sexual themes, and a buttload of innuendos.

A/N – I interrupt the usual scheduled broadcast of male content to bring you a lesbian-filled Padmé reader insert.

As much as I wanted to, I didn't end up writing any smut. I'd be happy to write a smutty follow up if requested.

Naboo was a beautiful planet, overrun by lush flora that cascaded along the immense terrain, with architecture that encapsulated your gaze every time you looked outside your window into the town. What was more beautiful than the landscape of Naboo, was the former queen that derived from it.

Padmé was more beautiful than any creature you had seen before, and she was still a queen in your eyes even after her new political career. Both you and Anakin held the same admiration for lovely Amidala, yet you felt regretful for Anakin when Padmé was the one reciprocating your feelings and not his. You couldn’t often help but stare at the politician when she was in the same room as you, and whenever she caught your adorning gaze, your heart would swell at her flustered appearance.

It wasn’t appropriate for a Jedi to have a relationship with a senator, you and her both knew it too well. A confession of love was never exchanged between the two of you, and neither of you made any obvious advancements to each other especially when alone. When the assassination attempts started, she requested you, personally to be her bodyguard. You of course were content with having to be around the woman for longer. Some nights she would usher you inside of her room to talk and joke around when she had trouble sleeping. The other male Jedi who would stand guard would not have any objection to another female entering her room, so the secrecy remained intact.

She was like your best friend, and whenever she was having one of her political predicaments, you would always try to offer any piece of advice you could muster. She enjoyed your company and the fact that you were very much the middle ground when it came to politics. You didn’t know what most of the words she said meant, but you were so infatuated with her that you gave her your undying support and agreed to every point she made.

A senatorial trip to Naboo was necessary for Padmé, and you graciously accepted her request as her bodyguard yet again and travelled with her to her marvellous home planet. You couldn’t believe the luxuries within the palace of Naboo when you were temporarily housed during your stay. Pillars of stone and marble were delicately carved with the most pristine details you had ever laid eyes on, and the walls stretched far above your head. What you loved the most was how the light always filled every room and hall you walked into. Naboo was always a sunny and tropical planet, and you felt yourself wanting to retire your Jedi lifestyle and live out your days here.

Your ship had arrived a day too early, and Padmé’s presence wasn’t required yet, so she was given a day of leisure. You were requested to her chambers a few hours after she started camping out in it since you landed. When you entered, the warm sunlight beautifully decorated the room as it did for all of them, and you saw her seated at a small desk in front of open arches that let in most of the sunlight. She stood from her chair when you entered, and you bowed in return.

“You must be sweltering under all those robes. Truly, you Jedi never fail to impress me with your resilience.” She had broken the ice and started to make her way toward you. As she approached, her whole body was now exposed and no longer obstructed by the ornate desk she previously had been hiding behind. Her dress was made of a fine and sheer material, perfect for the current climate. And because the fabric was so thin, you could see the way it draped over her breasts, and her nipples protruding against it. When you glanced and saw them, it was very brief. You didn’t want your beloved senator to think you were perverted and dismiss you from ever joining her on a trip again.

She walked behind you and reached up to dip her fingers under your robes. She pulled it back and you allowed the outerwear to slip from your body. She chucked it on a nearby seat before walking around in front of you. She started to reach for the belt on your tunic but your hands grabbed her wrists in protest.

“Please, Senator. You don’t have to.” Your voice was quiet when you spoke, and the look she gave you in return was just as soft.

“I want to.” She said, her voice coated in sweetness as the words dripped off her tongue. You let go of her supple skin and watched as she fiddled with the material until you were free of the clothing to your upper half. She walked around like she did before and pried it from your body, where it joined the other piece of your uniform. You stood before her in the thin clothing that was hidden under your robes. You were, unfortunately, not as naked as you’d like to be, but it was nice to have the heavy costuming gone from your body.

She then snaked her arm under your own and urged you to walk with her. She stopped before a loveseat at the edge of the room, veiled in plush blankets and pillows, and she urged you to sit with her. There was a short table in front that sat a bowl of exotic and vibrant-coloured fruit.

“I should let you borrow one of my many dresses one day. I own far too many, and it is unfair that you must suffer under all those layers.” She joked, and you couldn’t help but smile at her. The sun that drowned the room in its light allowed you to take into appreciation of her appearance. Her skin was smooth and soft, reflecting the warmth of the sunlight, and you always relished in the feeling anytime she took your hand or the way it would brush your face anytime she tucked fallen strands of hair behind your ear. She had taken notice of your staring, and added another comment. “You would look very beautiful in them.” You must have accidentally swallowed caterpillars at some point because they had now decided to blossom into butterflies that danced inside of you at her words.

“I fear Master Windu might not feel quite as passionate as you do, Senator.” You made a soft laugh, and she did the same.

“Please, you needn’t call me that while we’re alone. You know I love it when you say my name.” She requested you. You couldn’t deny her plea when she looked as ravishing as she did.

“I would love to try on your stunning dresses, Padmé.” You told her, and her shoulders relaxed in a quiet sigh. It brought silence thereafter, so she changed the subject and turned her attention to the bowl of assorted fruits on the table. The bowl itself was a golden and ornate dish itself, long and somewhat deep to hold as many diverse off-world fruits as it could fit. Some were round and covered in fuzz, some had spikes, and some had a beautiful gradient colouring. You knew the people of Naboo are adamant about their fruit consumption, so it was no surprise that the former queen had plucked a large ovoid-shaped fruit, its colouring imitated a sunset, and held it in front of you.

“You should try the fruit.” She told you. You really wanted to try the fruit, her fruit more specifically. “It is difficult to import it to Coruscant, so it is best to enjoy the little things while they are here.” Spoken like a true leader. You always found her so fascinating, so inspiring. You loved her Naboo quirks on Coruscant, always craving fruit, the way she cut her food, her fashion taste. To you, she was perfect.

“I would normally cut into this on a platter, but since we’re alone…” It was more of a request for approval, and you gave it to her. You happily do anything for the goddess that sat beside you. She hummed to herself when she brought the fruit to her lips before sinking her teeth into it with grace. She made an odd noise and flinched after she had ripped a chunk of the fruit’s flesh into her mouth. You panicked when she did so, worried that she had hurt herself. She laughed to herself when she removed her full mouth from the fruit, and you could see the bright red liquid seeping from the fruit’s wound and running down her arm.

After the panic had died down, you saw the same red liquid bleeding from between her lips, now rolling down her chin and dripping onto her nice gown. She brought her other, clean hand to her chin and wiped away the forming pigmented droplets. You were too occupied by her soft lips, which were now stained from the juices of her delicacy.

After her little slip up, she focused her attention back on you while she chewed. Empty-handed, and mouth dry from your awe-induced panting from watching her indulge herself. She always made sure you were given the attention that you deserved, and it was something you always appreciated about her. Maybe it was her experience in her roles of ruling and leadership, but she always made sure you had a voice and an equal turn to share. She was never selfish. So, with the fruit pinched between her fingers, she lifted it close to your face.

“You should try the fruit.” She suggested. You never refused her. If she wanted you to kill every senator on Coruscant, you would do it without hesitation. She moved the fruit to your lips, insistent on feeding it to you herself, and you obliged. You opened your mouth, and she fitted the edge of the fruit gently inside your mouth. You sunk your teeth into the soft and fluffy flesh like Padmé had done prior, and bit into the part that intersected with her bite. Padmé had her mouth agape only partly when you took your bite, and she couldn’t detach her gaze from your lips. You felt its juices squirt into your mouth, the entire mound of flesh was drenched in wetness, and like the woman who didn’t expect the attack of liquid before you, you felt the juice begin to leak down your chin. With your Jedi instinct, before Padmé could tear the fruit from your lips, you slurped as much juice from your portion as you could, hopeful it would leave less mess on Padmé’s arms. Not that you minded the mess.

Your mouth now full of supple flesh and its juice, you began to chew. It was so soft in your mouth that you didn’t need to use your teeth, you could just close your jaw and the fruit would willingly compress itself, spitting out even more juice from within the confines of your mouth. You wanted to giggle at the messiness but before you could wipe the remnants away, Padmé was already onto it.

“Here, let me do it for you.” She whispered. She didn’t reach out to wipe the liquid away, instead, she leaned up close to you and her tongue darted around your chin, lapping up the sweet nectar and it slid upwards to your lips. Her mouth hugged yours, the sensation was blissful. It was better than you had ever fantasised. Her lips were so very soft, and the passion was growing at every passing moment you spent with your mouth latched to hers, moving in sync with each other.

Your overwhelming need for her evolved into you pushing your tongue into her mouth. You could taste the sweetness that laced her spit while your tongue danced around inside of her. Your hand reached up to hold the side of her head, and her own hands were preoccupied dragging your other hand past her dress, and you could indulge yourself in feeling every part of her flesh as she guided you to her chest. Your hand splayed out around her breast, and it was as soft as the rest of her skin. She made soft moans into your mouth as you caressed her, which ignited the heat between your legs. You wanted to drink her juices like you did the fruit, and you were just as tempting to her. For so long you had repressed the expression of admiration for Padmé, but now that you were on the serene planet of Naboo, you could finally show her how much you worship your queen.

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sgt-seabass · 2 years

Note

At first, you weren’t sure about being Bucky Barnes contact. You were used to older war vets who had bad dreams, not ex-super-soldiers who had been brainwashed into assassins—but, to your surprise, he was no different than your previous clients, not really. You helped him with grocery runs, stopped by the apartment to check on him. You knew you were making an impact when he asked you to help him pick out furniture for his noticeably bare apartment. He was handsome, but you knew it would be a major breach of protocol to cross that line. What was most important was that Bucky felt safe, heard, and respected. Right?

😈

𝒔𝒘𝒊𝒎𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒐𝒐𝒍𝒔

— Bucky pays you back for your time as his contact by teaching you to swim.

pairing — bucky barnes x reader w/c — 1,500 (yes, exactly 1,500) this is a dark fic. 18+ only. warnings — dark fic, attmpted drowning, forced relationship a/n — for @boxofbonesfic the monkey's paw challenge. congrats on your amazing milestone! not beta read. and i’m tired. sorry for any mistakes.

“Are you sure about this, Bucky?” You smiled nervously as Bucky led you to his apartment building's pool.

When you’d first met him, you were surprised to see a veteran living in such a lavish New York apartment block, and even more perplexed when you were met with the man’s completely bare apartment.

That was only the beginning of the incredulity of James Buchanan Barnes.

“Of course, doll. You’re in safe hands,” Bucky grinned. It was a cheeky look you’d grown to adore over the year you’d been working with him. It was a look that would normally have you smitten, but that was a line you had no intention of crossing.

You clutched your towel as you saw the enormous swimming pool with a slanted bottom for varying heights. Your heart rate began to rise at the sight.

Bucky noticed this. He always saw the changes in you. “Hey, it’s okay,” he placed his hands on your shoulders and ran them down your bare arms, the mix of cold and warm on either side causing goosebumps to form on your skin. “It’s just some water.”

“It’s not just some water. I know you want to teach me to swim... But I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“You’ve helped me come so far. You’ve got me feelin’ inadequate, doll. The least I can do is return the favour. Plus, we’re not going above neck level, promise,” Bucky wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side as he walked you down past the deep end and towards the shallow.

Usually, you would have pulled away from Bucky being touchy, but in this instance, you leaned in a little closer for comfort, distracted by your nervousness.

Drowning was your worst fear.

Bucky knew this, hence his offer to teach you how to swim. At first, you’d denied him repeatedly, until after weeks, you said yes just so he would stop asking.

You regretted agreeing now, though.

You’re helping Bucky. He needs to help someone, to do something good. This is the same as getting his groceries or going for walks with him.

Bucky kept making small talk with you as you put your things down on one of the benches, taking off your Brooklyn insignia sweatshirt that Bucky had gifted you and your jeans, so you were left in your pink one-piece swimsuit underneath.

When you turned around and saw Bucky just in black swim trunks, your breath hitched.

It wasn’t the first time you’d need him shirtless. You’d consoled him during nightmares and sleepless nights, but this was the first time you’d been able to actually look and appreciate him.

He was completely ripped, muscly in all the right places, with a hint of softness too. The scarring around the vibranium arm looked calm and melded like it was a part of him.

“Are you ‘gonna keep staring, or can we get in the pool?” Bucky chuckled, outstretching his hand to you.

You cleared your throat, cheeks heating from embarrassment as you gave a quick nod, choosing to ignore his hand and move to the water. It already felt too intimate, and you wanted some space.

Bucky watched you as you tentatively dipped a toe in the water. It was warm, and it helped you build the gall to put your feet into the pool. The water barely covered your feet, but it was enough to have you taking deep breaths.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when Bucky joined you. He was so quiet he always snuck up on you.

As Bucky led you into the water, you couldn’t deny that his presence put you at ease, and made you feel safe. He was always so lovely, and you couldn’t help but feel guilty as he taught you to swim.

While he taught you the different strokes and how to keep yourself above water, you thought back to last month's movie night that you held with your friends.

They’d all agreed when you told them you’d planned to move on from helping Bucky. He’d made leaps and bounds in his progress, and he admittedly didn’t need you anymore as his contact.

It was time for you to move on to another client who needed you more, even if you would miss Bucky.

You hadn’t had the heart to tell him yet, though. Guilt riddled every part of you at the thought of breaking the news.

After an hour, you felt like a whole new person. While you hadn’t ventured to where you couldn’t get your feet on the ground, you could swim and keep yourself upright.

“I got one last test for you, doll, so you can be a real accredited swimmer.”

“You a certified instructor now?” You laughed as you followed Bucky out of the pool, waiting as he rifled through his duffle bag.

“Close enough,” he smiled, eyes crinkling as he stood back up. “Close your eyes. It’s a surprise.”

You pursed your lips but did as you were told. You could only hear the wet drip of the water off your cooling bodies before there was a plastic sound as Bucky secured your hands behind your back with zip ties and placed a piece of fabric over your eyes as a blindfold.

“Bucky? What was that?” You questioned nervously, a pit forming in the bottom of your stomach.

“Do you not trust me?” The hurt was evident in Bucky’s voice, and it was enough to catch you off guard as he put a hand on your shoulder and walked you across the cold tile.

“No— It’s not that. I just— I’m nervous.”

Bucky just chuckled as he stopped you, taking the blindfold off. You blinked in confusion as you looked at him, his eyes darker now.

Without warning, Bucky pushed you backwards, your feet stumbling until you plummeted into the pool's deep end.

Panic overtook you, and your feet kicked wildly as you sunk further into the depths. When your feet hit the tiled bottom, you used your knees to jump, propelling yourself back up to the surface.

The moment your head breached the water, Bucky grabbed you by your hair, the hold painful as you kept moving your legs to try and stay afloat.

“Bucky! Please!”

“For such a smart girl, you do have some dumb moments. You really think I haven’t been keeping tabs on you to keep my best girl safe? It’s a dangerous world out there.”

A cry left you when you realised what he meant. He’d been watching you.

“And you didn’t think I’d find out you plan to leave me? But it’s okay. I’m here to save you now. You’ll see just how much you need me.” The grip on your hair tightened, and you let out a spluttered wail.

“Bu— Bucky, please. Let me go home, and I won’t say anything—“

Bucky let go of your hair and stood. He stared down at you as you struggled to stay afloat before he put his foot on the top of your head and pushed you back under.

His strength sent you back to the bottom as bubbles filled your vision. You didn’t have a chance to take a deep breath before you were dunked, so your lungs quickly burned for air as your feet hit the bottom.

You rose back to the surface, and Bucky put his foot on top of your head again.

“You’re going to ask me to help you. And when you do, I’ll take that as your agreeance to be my full-time carer,” Bucky’s dark timbre barely reached your ears as you tried to breathe.

“Bucky, I— I can’t—”

Bucky frowned and pushed you under again before planting his foot on your head when you tried to rise, holding you under the water for longer.

When you felt like you were going to pass out, he allowed you to ascend.

You took large billowing breaths as you coughed, some water entering your lungs as you inhaled.

Bucky just looked at you expectantly.

And when you didn’t give him what he wanted, back under you went.

He did it again, and again, and again, holding you under longer each time. Your legs burned with fatigue, and your vision swirled with exhaustion and lack of oxygen.

That was when you broke, tears joining the chlorinated pool water as you were allowed to the surface.

“Bu— Bucky. Help me, please. H-Help me,” you sobbed, and Bucky’s expression softened.

With ease, Bucky leant down and pulled you out of the water, dragging your drenched form into his lap as he sat.

“I knew you’d come around, doll. You make me a better man. A saviour,” he smiled. And while words like that normally would have made your heart flutter, all you felt was dread.

Like a fish caught in a net, Bucky had you in his clutches, and if you didn’t obey, you’d cut and gutted before you could even mutter the word help.

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#monkeys paw challenge #bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark fic #marvel #mcu #ambswrites #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fic

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grizzersmamma · 7 months

Text

Beyond the Loch | Monster CoD AU | Chapter 4.

Summary: “With monsters now being used the world over to wage war, the military is desperate to encourage non-human citizens to join their ranks. A young kelpie, John ‘Soap’ MacTavish, is invited to join the infamous Task Force 141, the first task force in history to be headed up by a monster. Soon after joining, he encounters a black dog, an omen of death known only as Ghost. Determined to prove that not all black dogs are harbingers of disaster and misfortune, he decides to become Ghost’s field partner, becoming close to the spirit while everyone else flees from him terror. Only time can tell if he’ll come to regret it or not.”

Notes: Sorry for the delay with posting, but I had to rewrite this chapter several times since I wasn't getting the right vibes from how it was going. Half way through exams at the moment, but there's only another week until my mid-semester break from uni so hopefully I'll be able to get some more written then.

Pairing(s): Future Ghost/Soap. Other to be added.

Warnings: Unedited because I'm tired and can't stand looking at this chapter any longer ;w;

Series Masterlist

Previous: Chapter 3.

Next: WIP

The morning air is frigid at the break of dawn, the grassy fields coated in a fine layer of fresh dew. The sunshine isn’t powerful enough to warm Ghost’s skin through his many layers of clothing, but it’s a pleasant enough view as he waits for the pilots to run through their final checks before take-off. The tip of the cigarette between his lips lights up with each gust of wind, blowing away the potent scent of smoke clinging to his clothes.

Across the field, he can see his new sergeant quickly approaching, already geared up and carrying a large bag over his shoulder. When Soap realises he’s being watched, he offers a single wave, face lighting up with a broad grin. Ghost doesn’t return it, but he offers an acknowledging nod.

When Soap reaches him, Ghost drops the remainder of his cigarette, stomping it out underfoot. “Prepped, sergeant?” he asks lazily, ears slowly swivelling around as he listens to the sounds of the base waking up for the day.

“Aye, sir,” Soap nods, gripping at the straps of his vest, “ready to get ourselves a win, yeah?”

He simply nods, watching as the pilots exit the plane and start waving them over. “Let’s get moving then.”

Of course, Soap chooses to settle himself in the seat directly across from him. It isn’t too bothersome, even as the man starts excitedly rambling on about whatever seems to come into his head. Coming from someone else it would have quickly played on his nerves, but the friendly way the kelpie chatters to him is almost soothing.

He wonders if it’s something to do with the ‘alluring’ attributes MacTavish’s kind are known to possess or if he’s genuinely interested in listening to the other monster talk. He doubted the later option, given his entire evening the previous night was spent researching kelpie mythology.

There were numerous contradictory sources making it difficult to divorce fact from fiction. However, it seems as though most recorded legends and biological references he could access agreed that kelpies were similar in nature to sirens, being water spirits with an affinity for attracting men and women alike. It wouldn’t be beyond the realm of possibility for Soap to be (unknowingly or otherwise) drawing the canine’s attention.

He had pointedly scrolled past the sections mentioning how physically attractive kelpies were.

Soap doesn’t seem to notice his reluctance to engage in conversation, happy to hold up both ends of the conversation while Ghost simply sits quietly and listens. It helps to comfortably pass the time until they reach the drop point.

The landing is rough thanks to some heavy snow, but they make it without too many issues.

The scouting team that had been sent to the area before them had arrived back at the exfil point several hours ago, confirming that there appeared to be very little activity near the abandoned town their targets were holed up in. They were part of a yet unknown faction, wearing no obvious symbols to trace their allegiance back to.

All that their intelligence officers and the scouting party had been able to determine was that they were guarding something. They moved in and out of the crumbling remains of an old building with perfect timing and efficiency, like a colony of ants. Clearly, they had an important purpose being here in the middle of the icy wilderness, but what it was remained to be seen.

As they walk through the woods, Ghost is hyperaware of their every step, ears twitching with each broken branch, each flutter of leaves in the breeze and each animal, oblivious to the two predators moving through the trees. The snow was thick and difficult to wade through, but they were making good progress and would no doubt reach the enemy camp before dusk.

He and Soap remained in their human forms – their true forms too large and attention grabbing to risk using – it made it easier to carry their supplies and weapons. They moved in silence for the most part, neither willing to risk their mission being compromised so early.

When they finally arrive at their destination, they settle themselves in some shrubs just on the edge of the tree line to begin observing their opponents. It’s cold being pressed into the snowy ground, and Ghost briefly wishes he could be in his canine form, the thick fur perfect for such cold conditions. But he ignored his discomfort, setting up the scope on his rifle to start monitoring the movements of the other soldiers.

Soap is laying a few feet from him, pressed against a large boulder and under the low hanging branches of a thick bush. He’s using his own pair of binoculars, slowly sweeping his gaze from one side of the town to the other.

A small creek runs alongside the village, the perfect depth for his kelpie companion to utilise should things escalate, and there are numerous piles of rubble and ruined houses for them to use as cover. The men on guard duty continue their patrol route like clockwork, but clearly, they’re starting to get complacent, not paying as much attention to their surrounds as they should.

Ghost continues to observe a further two rotations, ensuring there are no deviations, before he motions for Soap to move with him. There is a brief break between the previous rotation and the next one, so they need to move quickly if they hope to have the advantage of surprise on their side. “I clear the guards on the left, you take the right, sergeant,” he grunts, already beginning to slink off toward a nearby house.

He pauses at the dilapidated building just long enough to watch as Soap takes a step into the small creek on the village’s right side. The man sinks into the water as though he’s made from the stuff, vanishing under the water without so much as a ripple across its surface.

Eerie.

Shaking off the shiver that runs down his spine, Ghost is quick to get to work, circling around the back of the house he’s using for cover. He spots the two men due to clear the area approaching and presses himself into a corner to wait. He slides a single blade from his vest, taking it into his hand with a light grip.

The moment the men round the corner he pounces. He grabs the first one with one hand, his other phasing straight through fabric, skin, muscle and bone until he reaches the man’s heart. A single, firm yank and the organ is pulled cleanly from the human’s chest. The other man gasps, but before the thought to lift their weapon even passes through their mind, a knife is embedded deep into their trachea.

Wrapping their hands around the wound does nothing to stop the blood rapidly spurting from their throat, and a moment later they hit the ground alongside their comrade. Ghost tosses the still-warm heart aside, already focused on finding a new position to attack from after retrieving his weapon.

He silently steps through the walls of one of the houses, trekking through the many rooms until he’s positioned by the wall directly opposite where the next duo should be passing through. And just as he expected, it only takes a few minutes for him to spot the other soldiers through a frosted window. The darkness of the house keeps his form concealed from the men, right up until he leaps through the wall’s very matter and slams his large body into the enemy.

The soldiers both flail, one of them losing their footing and dropping into the dirt. The blood slicked knife in Ghost’s hand easily slices through the tendons of the standing soldier’s neck as though it’s nothing more than butter.

He shoves the man aside, ignoring the way they choke on their own life blood and approaches the other. They make a valiant attempt at scrambling back to their feet, twisting around with their weapon, only to be met with one of Ghost’s other blades, pulled from its holster and stabbed through their eye before they have the chance to so much as blink.

Four down. Another two more on his side before it should be clear. With any luck, Soap will not be far behind they they’ll be able to rendezvous at the entrance to the main building. The base will be expecting the men on patrol to return soon, so their cover won’t last for long either way.

Ghost moves back through the wall once more, returning his blades to their rightful position. He takes a moment to observe the area, ensuring there are no enemies unaccounted for, then starts heading for the next house. He has the time to cross through two more buildings before he spots the last two men he’s after.

Listening intently, he’s able to pick up the soft crackling of one of the soldier’s radios. They’re trying to find the missing members of their patrol group. Time’s run out.

He waits until the two men confirm their position and release their radios before attacking. These two are more alert, wary of the potential of a surprise attack, so his appearance doesn’t startle them. They move to lift their guns, but Ghost looses a knife, forcing one of them to try and dive to the side before they can discharge any bullets.

The man still standing grapples with Ghost over the gun for a moment but makes the mistake of attempting to hold onto their rife and is inevitably unable to protect their vital organs from the blade driven into their stomach. As they hunch over with a pained wheeze, the monster grabs either side of their head, violently twisting until there’s a sickening crunch and the body in his grasp turns limp.

The final opponent levels their weapon with Ghost’s skull, but something, an instinct perhaps, stops him from moving to defend himself. He sees something shift in his peripheral and understands.

The man seems to think he’s going to win, about to pull the trigger- only for a pair of massive jaws to clamp down on his throat. A single twist of the head and the muscles are torn from where they should be connected to the man’s spine. He doesn’t splutter or gasp, the chasm where his windpipe should be far too large.

“I had that, sergeant,” he says, watching as the soldier’s body drops unceremoniously to the ground.

The grin Ghost is subjected to from his subordinate is downright horrific. Sharp teeth hanging out of an unnaturally elongated face. It looks like a sort of half-shifted state, unnatural but by no means any less dangerous. Just enough of a shift for the younger man to tear through a person without changing the rest of his physiology too far.

A blink and he’s looking at a normal human again, save for the crimson staining the lower half of his face and clothes.

“Ye were taking a while, thought ah’d give yeh a hand,” the kelpie shrugs, shouldering his own weapon. His hair is still dripping little drops of water from the tips of his mohawk, and his clothes are completely saturated, leaving a pool in the Scot's wake.

Ghost rolls his eyes, “just don’t leave water everywhere, I’m not about to be sent to medical ‘cause I slipped in a damn puddle.”

Soap snickers at that comment, moving to follow when Ghost starts toward the main base. “Aye, sir, wouldn’t want to ruin yer reputation like that,” he smirks, trotting along behind Ghost as they move to start observing their target.

“Two men patrolling the top level,” Ghost breathes, staring down the line of his scope, “we’ll head around the back, the scouts reported another entrance. It’ll be guarded, but easier to access.” He lowers his weapon again, waiting for an affirmative from Soap to start moving around the building they’re using for cover.

Their progress is quick as they snake through the long grass, unable to risk losing any more time. The enemy likely already knows something is afoot and will be searching for their missing members any moment.

Taking out the small group of men is laughably easy with the two monsters working in tandem. The bodies lying on the ground are left where they fall, neither bother to hide the bodies, not when stealth will likely be unimportant in a few minutes anyway once they’ve breached the building. An odd low-level buzzing sound can be heard from inside and Ghost can’t help frowning with an annoyed growl under his breath.

It’s entirely possible that these people are guarding a new type of weapon, which will make breaking inside unnecessarily dangerous if both he and Soap enter together. “Wait here until I’ve cleared the room,” he finally states, “I’ll phase in and radio you once I’m sure they’re not hiding anything.”

Soap nods, tightening his grip on his weapon, “I’ll be ready and waiting to back you up.”

With that, Ghost reaches out to the wall of the base, about to step through the wall. Only... his hand meets the cold stone and doesn’t pass through. He tries to push a little harder, but he can’t phase, even putting his entire strength into it. It shouldn’t take any effort what-so-ever to move through something as simple as a wall.

Something is very, very wrong here.

#writing #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghost x soap #ghostsoap #soapghost #monster au #kelpies #ghosts

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