#on a writing level: restraint hits harder for the reader

[finalresidentevilfantasy]

I want you.

A/N: Hiiii! Told you I'd be writing more! This is basically porn with barely any plot what so ever. I hope you all enjoy.

Warnings: swearing, female reader, oral (f receiving), fingering, over stimulation, dirty talk. I think I got everything. Minors do not engage.

W/C: 2.4K

She wasn't sure how they'd ended up in this position, but she wasn't about to complain, her heart hammering in her chest in anticipation, heat rising through her body at their proximity.

"Leon-" She breathed out, the man in front of her weighing up his options in his head. His hand was resting on her neck, thumb running gently along her jawline. His eyes snapped to hers, her words dying on her tongue. Blue eyes darker than she'd ever seen them, her body reacting in the way she knew it would, her breath catching with every breath she took.

"Tell me to stop and I will." His voice caught her off guard, husky and lower than she'd ever had the pleasure of hearing, she let out a shaky breath as his face levelled with hers. "But if I kiss you now? Fuck, I won't be able to stop." His hand moved up to cup her cheek, thumb running over her bottom lip.

She wanted him, fuck, how could she not? He was everything she'd ever wanted and more. They'd always had banter, playful flirting part of their daily interactions but after this last mission a tension had been created between the two, she'd been craving him since Spain, the mission to rescue the presidents daughter had brought them closer together.

"I don't want you to stop." Her voice full of anticipation, was this finally it? Whatever he was offering she was taking right now, she felt her body react to him, she knew her underwear was going to be soaked but she couldn't care less.

"The restraint I've shown over the last year will be gone." His words startled her, sent her head dizzy. A year? Had she heard him right, they'd only been back from Spain for three months? "I can't do one night with you, I can't fuck you and forget it ever happened." His eyes were staring straight into her own, face closer than she'd ever experienced and it made her head spin, she was consumed by him, her body temperature rising as she licked her bottom lip, catching his thumb in the process.

"Leon, I want you." She spoke and he groaned, head falling to her forehead.

"I want you, but I want all of you. This cannot be a one time thing for me, so if that's all you want then I need to go and we can forget this conversation happened." She understood what he wanted from her and fuck she wanted it to. She wanted him, every inch of him.

"I want you." She spoke with more confidence this time. "Leon, stop fucking around and kiss me." Her voice shocked them both, Leon letting out a breathy laugh before a shaky breath followed. His hand slid up into her hair, cupping the back of her head, she swore the anticipation was going to kill her.

"Well if that's what the lady wants." Leon spoke and before she could respond his lips were on hers. It was rough, full of desperation as he pulled her closer to him, hand fisting her hair as his other grabbed and squeezed at her thigh and ass. She kissed back with as much force, hand reaching up and into his hair as she tugged on it, her other hand fisted his t-shirt.

He groaned as she tugged his hair a little harder than before, fuck she was going to be the death of him, any rational thought leaving his mind. He pulled back slightly, teeth finding her bottom lip as he tugged slightly, her breathing hard as he let go. Eyes finding her own and they were blown full of lust, a need for him and he knew his own would match. Their need for each other evident.

"You're so beautiful." He spoke, voice smooth, she looked fucked out already and he'd barely touched her. "Fuck, you drive me insane." He said before he dove back in, lips capturing hers again as he backed them up, her back hitting the wall with a small thud, one of his hands planted against the wall next to her head, the other fisting the hem of the nightdress she had on.

Leon had been feeling like he was on the brink of insanity ever since she answered her apartment door wearing it. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes as she breathed out his name in confusion as to why he was at her place at 1am.

He ran his hand up her dress and onto her stomach, her body shivering at the touch. She was hot to touch, her breathing harder as he travelled further up, cupping her breast in his hand. Her nipple was hard and Leon groaned into their kiss, hand back into her hair as he tugged it, exposing her neck to him. Lips connecting where her shoulder and collarbone met, she let out a quiet moan at the contact.

Leon used the flat of his tongue as he ran a hot stripe up her neck, stopping below her ear, "you sound prettier than I ever imagined." He said before he nipped her earlobe, peppering kisses down her neck as she rolled her head in pleasure, hands fisting at his hair as he rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

"Leon, please." She whimpered, panting as she tried to keep control of herself, he was driving her crazy. Her voice was desperate, full of want and anticipation. He bit at the base of her neck in response.

"Fuck, if you beg like that again I think I might lose it." His hand moved from her breast, running down her stomach until he met the waistband of her panties, he slowly traced his hand past the barrier, finger running between her folds as he collected her arousal, before he circled her clit slowly.

She threw her head back against the wall, jaw falling open in a silent moan at the contact, Leon watching her every move, drinking in her reactions to every movement he made. God, he was so sure he was in love with her it was unreal, never had a woman brought him to his knees the way she had, she had him in a chokehold he didn't want to be released from.

"Ah ah," his voice was right next to her ear now as he continued to slowly circle her clit, barely any pressure, just enough for her to feel it but not enough to finish. "I wanna hear you." He said as he sucked at her neck again, pulling a real moan from her, one he'd only ever dreamt about until now. "That's it." It was part of the pleasure for her, his voice, it shot straight through her, making her more wet, temperature rising further and she thought she might pass out if this continued.

"Leon," she moaned out and Leon groaned in response, his was so hard it hurt, his body reacting to hers and he wasn't even inside her yet. He applied more pressure and she whimpered, head falling to his shoulder as she bit into it. He moved his other hand, gripping at her thigh as he lifted it around his waist, she responded instantly, leg hooking around his hip as she tried to draw him closer to her.

He continued to circle her clit, placing kisses on her neck and chest, nipping at the skin as he did. Her moans were louder now and he had no doubt her neighbours would know she wasn't alone by now. She kissed back at his neck and he shivered, feeling it go straight down his spine. He was barely keeping it together himself.

Her head fell back against the wall again, eyes screwed shut as she focused on his touch, she was drenched now, Leon's movements on her clit, mixed with her arousal filling her apartment with sounds she didn't know existed, no man had ever made her this horny and aroused in her entire life. Leon continued to press kisses to her, her forehead lined with a layer of sweat as her body grew hotter in response to him.

"Leon, I'm gonna-"

"Cum baby." His voice was almost a whisper in her ear but she heard it as the coil snapped, sending her over the edge into sweet bliss, her chest heaved as she moaned out his name, his finger still circling her clit, prolonging her orgasm for as long as he could. He kissed her, deep and hard, she kissed back but it was sloppy, she had no control of her body as Leon moved his hands, one cupping her cheek, the other hooking behind her knee as he held her up.

She was shaking as she came down from her orgasm and Leon swore he'd never seen anything so hot, she was so goddam beautiful it hurt sometimes. She looked at him, eyes hooded, pupils blown wide, pure bliss was evident in every single one of her features. Her hair was a mess, sweat lining every inch of her body but Leon couldn't give less of a fuck, she still looked like a goddess to him.

He couldn't help himself as he placed his finger in his mouth, tasting her as she watched him, chest still heaving. "Fuck." Leon sighed out, he couldn't stop himself, he had to know what she tasted like.

He made quick work of her dress, tossing it to one side, she was red hot as he travelled down her body, kissing every inch as he did. Nipping at her hip bones as he passed them. Fingers hooking into her underwear as he removed them, her hands were carding through his hair now.

He placed her leg over his shoulder as he finally reached his knees, he looked up at her through his eyelashes and she was looking back down at him. Bottom lip caught between her teeth as she watched him. He didn't take his eyes from hers as he ran his tongue over her pussy, he groaned at the taste, divine. It was like a forbidden nectar to him, she moaned in response, her hips bucking to meet his tongue.

He placed both hands on her hips as he pinned her back against the wall, before diving back in, sucking her clit into his mouth as he rolled it between his teeth lightly. She practically screamed, hips trying and failing to move against him, buck into his face, Leon swore he'd never heard such a pretty sound. He continued to slowly roll her sensitive clit between his mouth, sucking it as she pulled at his hair, tugged the strands as she moaned his name over and over again. Her chest heaving as her heart hammered in her chest, head thrown back and eyes screwed shut as her mouth hung open, moans tumbling from it but she didn't care, her brain was turning to mush.

Leon moved down, tongue finding her hole that was unsurprisingly clenching and unclenching around nothing. His tongue slipped through and into it, earning a fuck from the woman above him, his nose brushed her clit as he continued to fuck in and out of her with his tongue. His thumb moving up to rub her over sensitive clit.

"Leon, I can't- too much." She was blabbering now, brain having switched off to the pleasure she was receiving, he pulled back a moment to speak.

"You can baby, you can take it, I know you can. You're such a good fucking girl for me." He rasped out as he dove back into her. She cried out at the contact, hands desperately tugging at his hair as she chased her release, she tasted so good, Leon thought he could get drunk of this, off her. He glanced up just in time to see her slip over the edge, face twisting in pure bliss as her chest rose and fell at a fast pace. He continued until her hands where trying to push him away.

She was so sensitive now, every nerve on fire as her body shook from bliss. Leon moved from between her legs and had his reflexes not have been so amazing she'd have fallen, she couldn't hold herself up any longer. Leon was quick to catch her, pulling her legs around his waist as she soaked his t shirt with her orgasm and arousal. she placed her forehead against his, her face damp from sweat as she took his lips into a slow kiss. She could taste herself on him as he ran his tongue along her bottom lip.

"Thank you." She spoke as she regained herself, breathing coming back down to normal as she carded her fingers through his damp hair, it would appear he'd been sweating himself. They stayed there for a moment, just enjoying one another as she came down from her highs, Leon knew she needed time before he fucked her.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that." Leon whispered against her lips, "I've been thinking about you for so long." He said as, one hand was splayed across her back as he traced his thumb over her skin gently, his other hand cupping her cheek again as he pulled her back to look into his eyes. "I've wanted you for so long I think I would've gone insane if you'd rejected me." He was being honest, she knew that, having spent years training with him, she knew he wasn't a great liar.

"I've wanted you since the Christmas party, I was gutted when you didn't kiss me under that mistletoe." She spoke and Leon huffed out a laugh as he nudged her nose with his own.

"Like I said, if I kissed you I wouldn't be able to stop and I don't think the other DSO agents would've wanted to witness what we just did." She bit her lip then, energy buzzing in her veins again as she kissed him, harder this time.

"I really hope you're not done with me yet Mr Kennedy." She said, voice seductive and Leon shivered.

"Oh baby, you have no idea what I have planned for you. You're finally mine and I have a years worth of frustration to let out, you're not leaving this apartment for a while." She giggled as he moved down her hallway, her bedroom his next destination.

[sp-by-april]

You know that bdsm Damien thing you mentioned? You should totally write that.. That'd be awesome sauce..

BDSM Damien, BDSM Stan is in the queue. Is this what yall are feeling today? 🥵

Damien x F!Reader

[Submit a prompt for Sunday smut-a-thon!] [South Park Master Lists]

Damien was always an intense guy. It’s what drew me to him. We flirted for a long time before I was finally at his place. I followed him into the basement. It was a dungeon. In the most literal sense.

Now, I was on my knees, strapped into this big bench made of wood and leather, wondering if I had made the wrong decision.

I felt a thick pain on my ass. He had smacked me with a wooden paddle.

“You have a lot to work with back here,” He said before hitting me again.

His hand ran over the sore spot and he gave my flesh a hard squeeze, causing me to wince again.

“You’re reactionary,” He said walking around to the front of me, “Interesting,”

He had undressed behind me after strapping me in, so I was shocked when I finally got a look at him.

Even if I wasn’t right at cock level, I would’ve stared. The guy was huge. I was in pain just looking at it.

His mouth curled into a crooked smile and his cock twitched as he looked at my wide eyes, “You’re scared,”

He slid his hand under my chin and I automatically opened my mouth. I was afraid of what would happen if he tried to force it between my lips.

He pushed right into the back of my throat and seized a fitful of my hair. To my surprise, he went slow but the pressure kept increasing as he methodically fucked my throat harder and harder.

On top of it, the guy made so much precum. As he went on it was dripping down my chin and had completely coated the back of my throat to the point I could barely breathe. It felt like a regular guy had already cum in my mouth and his was fucking me with it. I gagged at one point and then he really slammed into me. When his hips finally jerked into my throat I was almost grateful, until I felt the intensity of the jets shooting into my throat. Each one hurt so much, I’d never felt a guy cum that hard before.

When he withdrew from my mouth and walked behind me, I was relieved. Now that he was spent I figured I could have a little breather. Every guy has a refractory period, right?

I was so fucking wrong.

He pushed into me without a warning and I cried out.

“You can be loud down here,” He grabbed the back of my neck, “No one will hear you,”

I whimpered in pain and pleasure as he thrust into me harder and harder. Being strapped to the bench made it so much more painful as he slammed into me because my body had no where to go, nothing was giving way underneath me.

This guy was like a monster, and he had the cock to match. He hit every part of me so well, I couldn’t believe how amazing he felt as he abused my body.

When I came, I nearly screamed. My muscles all seized up and fought the restraints. My silky walls fastened up around him tightly and he didn’t slow down one bit. He went harder.

He jackknifed over me and groaned like a man possessed. He pushed into me so deep and painfully, I worried he might have broken me somehow as I felt each intense spurt he was filling my body with.

He panted as he lifted himself off of me, “You might be worth keeping.”

[the-peak-tmnt]

Hi Peak!! How are you? I hope you're fine!

I've read the last Reciprocity chapter right when you dropped it, but just now I managed to find the words to talk about it in a way that isn't joking! (I was the person who said smth along the lines of "amazing chapter! i will never be happy again!") Anyway I wanted to talk about the fic in general first; it's simply genius the way you wrote and planned the whole thing. The way you introduce the way this world is different from the world we knew in the movie, and now the series, is so masterful that it feels like Raph is taking the reader by the hand and gently, as gently as he can, guiding them through everything that happened like the reader is an old friend that came back from a long long trip and lost alot of things; at the same time that every new information we learn about the accident, about Raph's injurie, about what happened to Leo and the whole fallout with Splinter feels like THE punch in the middle of your face. Maybe it's just me, but at times the prose is so immersive that it makes me feel like I'm a friend that abandoned Raph in the when he needed most, hence the whole punch in the face feeling. I think that's the reason why the softer moments (like the Casey moments or when the brothers reach out to eachother) hit even harder, it's like seeing a friend who's struggling start to get better and find their footing with life again. Just like that's why the angst moments hurt so much. It's a cicle that gives the fic a whole new level of heart and spirit that's simply impressive beyond belief. ITS SO GOOD IT MAKES ME ILL ! Now, about that last chapter [cries]. When I read chap 18 I thought something along the lines of "Ok, we got the accident and we got the injury, but the flashback isn't over. What else could possibly happen?" AND OH BOY I WAS IN FOR A TREAT. And a threat. Maybe it's because I'm dumb but, even after seeing what the principle trigger warning was, it took half of the chapter for me to finally realize what was going to happen and I had to pace through my house like a mad woman just to keep reading. It's a masterpiece in how to write suspense, I STILL DIDN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT THAT ONE LAST SCENE! it's too sad! it's too good!

I hope this whole rant was, at least, understandable. I'm really happy I read Reciprocity and I'm really really reaaaally happy that you wrote it! Thank you so much for it!

Please excuse me while I go cry forever.

This was such a wonderful thing to get in my inbox, oh my gosh. I read this like ten times before trying to come up with a response.

When I started writing Reciprocity, I wasn't sure how readers would feel about the fic starting in the middle of the plot and having to wait for backstory to be gradually revealed. I didn't know if I'd be able to keep anyone's attention long enough with the suspense for the payoff of the eventual reveals...

But I just felt like this was the right way to tell the story, y'know? Raph is lost and confused and missing things in more ways than one, so it felt right that the reader should be a little lost, too.

The incredible way you just described the experience of reading and discovering pieces of the past makes my heart want to explode, and also makes me so glad I stuck with this style of storytelling!

I’ll admit that writing the story this way is more challenging than I was expecting, but it's SO rewarding to watch readers put things together and react to the big reveals! I love seeing people's theories, even if it pushes the limits of my self restraint every time someone is getting close to the truth! I wanna tell people when they're right, but I also don't want to ruin the suspense and buildup!!!

It’s overwhelmingly rewarding to hear that the story feels so immersive, and that the prose makes you feel so deeply for Raph. Because as much as this story is about unraveling the mystery of what’s happening with Leo, it’s even more so about Raph’s own journey of self discovery, forgiveness, and growth. It makes me so unbelievably happy that you feel like you’re not just an observer, but that you’re on this journey with Raph.

Comments like this just mean the world to me, so thank you so much!!!

[captainsupernoodle]

I'm having a massive range of feelings about this quote specifically and the general concept of vimes being absolutely full of rage in general including but not limited to: how choice has a tangible impact on the reality of the world in Discworld (the alternate reality seen by the imp in Jingo, literally all of Night Watch), how Sam has been told that eugenics (I'M GOING TO SAY THIS AGAIN: EUGENICS, WHICH IS BAD, WRONG, AND INCREDIBLY DANGEROUS) say he has "the eyes of a mass murderer" and Ahmed told him he wasn't a killer and how Vimes realizes when he thinks he's killed the werewolf in the river that he's never actually, on purpose, killed anybody -- but how in Discworld there's a difference between being a killer and killing people and Sam isn't a natural killer but he is completely capable and even likely to kill people when he "unwinds all at once" EXCEPT that the people around him are people that HE'S taught SHOULD NOT kill step in when he's going to break his own rules (the Watchmen watch each other) and how who Sam Vimes is as a person is because of the choices he makes and sometimes those choices are reinforced by the people around him which makes the identity of Sam Vimes something that is shaped by his community

VIMES makes the choice to be the kind of person he is. the people around him know what choices he makes, and when he runs up against the wall of his own temperament they can step in and say "no" for him, and so Sam Vimes remains the person he chooses to be for another day.

[comfortbucky]

Hey! Can i request a cold, lonely ex-hydra reader × bucky who falls in love with her. Adding some panic attacks and nightmares of the reader.

i love this idea!!! thank u for submitting🥰

𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻 𝗶𝗻𝘃𝗶𝘁𝗲 ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚ ⋆

pairing: avenger!bucky x ex-HYDRA!fem!reader

tags: enemies(?) to lovers, angst (if u squint), soft!bucky

warnings: canon level violence, description of injuries, blood is mentioned, panic attacks, anxiety, nightmares

A/N: i just came up with a random name for the HYDRA leader the reader is after🤣 so just ,,, ignore // also!!!! i tried out a different writing style than what i’m used to! hope u don’t mind🥺 just been feeling like a lot of my writing is the same and wanted to try something new!!!

word count: 3.5k (this is so long LMAO sorry 😭 literally why am i like this)

my masterlist!

completed requests!

The suit that you once considered a second skin, now felt uncomfortable and constricting, like a python squeezing the life out of you. Although, it made sense since the very organization of the uniform you were wearing did exactly that.

HYDRA.

For so long you were just another mindless pawn to them, just doing without every actually thinking. Unlike your younger brother, Alex. They indoctrinated him as well, getting a hold of both of you from a young age, but he was there when Captain America took down S.H.I.E.L.D. and it changed his entire worldview. You found everything he said about “freedom” to be stupid, naive, and dangerous. And you would later prove yourself correct.

You pull yourself from your thoughts as a group of HYDRA soldiers walk past the shrubbery you hid behind. Quickly and quietly, you get up and join them as they march towards the HYDRA base. As soon as you get inside, you manage to slip away from the rest of the group to search for your target.

Since HYDRA took the possibility of you ever having a normal life away, as far as you were concerned, your only purpose in life was to kill the man who was at the center of it all, Viktor Cross. And after months of tracking him down, formulating the perfect plan, that’s exactly what you were going to do today.

You make your way towards one of the main lab facilities, gun in hand when you see several unconscious guards lying on the floor in front of you. Shifting your gaze up, you see that the door has been ripped open, grip marks on the sides.

This was not part of the plan.

As you squeeze through the open door and enter the lab, you come to a halt, frozen in shock. There’s your target, Viktor, shoved against the wall by none other than Captain America himself. You almost let out a chuckle in disbelief at the irony of the situation. Instead, you take a step forward, and the glass cracks beneath your feet, alerting the men of your presence.

Shit.

Immediately, both sets of eyes are on you. Viktor’s lips curve into a smirk as you make your way to them.

“Agent- Miss Y/N,” he corrects himself. “What a pleasant surprise.” You ignore him and look to address Steve Rogers, AKA Captain America.

“Let him go and give him to me,” you start, Steve eyeing you cautiously. “So I can kill him,” you snarl, quickly turning to Viktor to see that his smirk had been wiped off his face.

“Aren’t you HYDRA?” He questions, nodding to your suit and eliciting a cackle from Viktor.

“Not anymore,” you mumble, before lifting a leg to kick Steve in his side. You hit him across the face with the end of your gun for good measure. He stumbles over, giving you enough time to grab Viktor’s collar, before he falls to the floor, and slam him back against the wall. His eyes are full of desperation and you felt nothing but pure, burning rage. You shove the barrel of your gun under his chin and place your hand on the trigger.

“You were such a gifted agent, Y/N. Don’t throw away such potential, come back.”

“Go to hell.”

Before you could pull the trigger, a force propels you to the ground and you feel a sharp pain in your side. Silence and then ringing fills your eyes as you squint your eyes to try and visualize the situation. Your vision is blurry, but clear enough to clouds of smoke engulf Viktor’s figure as he escapes. A muffled voice from behind you speaks, but you can’t make out any of the words they’re saying. You look down to see red. Just crimson red, staining your abdomen. Hands land on your shoulders, shaking you gently as your vision fades to black.

Viktor is in front of you, the barrel of his gun directed right at your head. He smirks as he moves his hand to the trigger.

“Hail, HYDRA.”

A gunshot goes off, forcing you to shoot up in bed, gasping for air. As you start to regain your senses, you realize you’re surrounded by a group of strangers. Well, not complete strangers, the Avengers to be exact. Part of your job required you to study their files, learn everything about them. You could recite from memory where and when they were born, their greatest strengths and weaknesses. Suddenly, your side starts to burn with pain, and you carefully lean back in bed. There’s an array of wires and tubes connected to you and you hear the rhythmic beeping of various machines. You’re in a hospital, or some sort of medical facility.

“That, is exactly why I said we should use restraints.”

You’re staring at the ceiling when you hear Iron Man, AKA Tony Stark, speak.

“Tony, she lost a liter of blood, she’s not going anywhere.”

Steve appears in your view, looking down at you.

“Hey, you’re okay. You’re safe.”

You shift your gaze away from him. The last thing you expected to come out of this mission was to meet the Avengers, let alone them save you.

Steve sighs, “We’re not gonna hurt you. We wanna find Viktor too.”

There’s nothing he could say that could get you to speak. Your hatred for HYDRA didn’t mean you suddenly liked the Avengers. If anything, they were part of the problem too, so you stay silent.

“Told you, she’s not gonna talk,” Tony quips. From your research, you had come to learn that he was an arrogant man, and his statement only proved you right. “Maybe you should get Manchurian Candidate to come down, give her an ex-HYDRA buddy,” he says sarcastically.

Upon hearing “ex-HYDRA buddy,” you furrow your brows. Maybe it was the lack of blood in your body, but it took you a second to process his words and understand who he was referring to. Your eyes dart back to look at Steve’s but he’s gone.

“I’ll be back.” His voice trails off as he exits the room.

You’re still staring at the ceiling when you hear footsteps return and then several others departing.

There’s only one other person in the room beside you. Without even looking up, you already know who it is. His breathing was slow and steady until you started to shift in bed to reposition yourself. His breath hitched for a moment, before returning back to his normal breathing pattern.

“Killing him isn’t gonna make you feel better.” His comment makes you roll your eyes as you slowly sit up to look at him. There were no logical thoughts in your head, all you could feel was pain and fury. Anger swelled within you, your emotions boiling over.

“That’s rich, coming from the Fist of HYDRA,” you spat out. As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt your stomach drop. It was an unfamiliar feeling, one you hadn’t felt in a while. What was it? Regret?

Bucky’s face fell but he kept his eyes on you. It was a look that made you feel worse, worse than the searing pain in your side.

“I’m not a killer anymore,” he said in a tone so gentle, you felt another strange, new emotion but couldn’t quite label it. You quickly shift gears to avoid addressing the uncomfortable feelings swirling around in your stomach.

“Are you keeping me hostage to lure Viktor in? Because it's not going to work." Bucky shook his head.

"We want..." he trailed off, causing you to tilt your head in curiosity. “We need your help finding him.” You scoffed.

“What do I get out of it?” Bucky’s silence gave you your answer. Shaking your head, you start to disconnect yourself from the multitude of wires attached to you and get out of bed.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself,” he started, as you threw off your blanket and sat on the edge of the bed.

Standing up quickly, the blood from your head pooled in your legs, causing you to feel dizzy. Your head spun and your arms reached out for something, anything stable to grab onto. It was a metal hand. Despite it being cool to the touch, it ignited a heat to rise to your cheeks. You look down and mumble a thank you as Bucky helps you back into bed.

Letting out a sigh, you realize with the condition you’re in, you can’t leave. Definitely not well enough to go after Viktor alone. Shutting your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose, you curse under your breath.

“Fine,” you finally speak, keeping your eyes closed. Bucky nods, even though you don’t see, and you hear him walk off.

After a couple days of rest, you were cleared by Bruce to get discharged. Viktor had gone deep in hiding, making your job to find him a lot harder. Tony had so graciously given you an extra room in the tower, right next to Bucky’s. He was probably the one person you saw the most, purely due to location, and the fact that everyone else cautiously kept their distance from you. It made sense though, since you rarely spoke to anyone and spent most of your time in the lab looking for any clues of Viktor’s location. When you weren’t searching for him, you were training in the gym. Bucky was there a lot too, both of you waking up at ungodly hours of the morning. No words were ever exchanged between the two of you, and yet, there was some level of comfort you felt being around him. Must’ve been an ex-HYDRA thing.

“What’s on your mind?” You walk over to Alex and sit on the edge of the bed next to him. He sighs.

“What if,” he starts, furrowing his brows. “What if freedom is good?” He speaks quietly, fearful of HYDRA listening in on your conversation.

It feels like you’ve got the wind knocked out of you.

“Alex,” you grab him by the shoulders. “What the hell are you talking about?” You’re searching his eyes, trying to understand what’s gotten into him.

“Captain America.” The biggest threat to HYDRA’s existence. He looks down at his hands. “He was willing to risk his life for it. It has to be worth something right?” Alex looks back up to you with a look in his eyes that you haven’t seen since you were children. Uncertainty. You sigh and pull him into your chest, stroking his hair.

“I don’t know, kiddo. Maybe.”

You wake up in a cold sweat, panting. Hot tears fall from the corners of your eyes. It’s the same dream you’ve had for the last week. Although, you wouldn’t consider it a dream necessarily, but it wasn’t a nightmare either. Just a bittersweet memory.

Bucky could tell that something was up with you for the past week. Despite having gone through a bit of therapy, Steve’s idea, the nightmares still came to him. So Bucky was already wide awake when he heard your weeping on the other side of the wall. It didn’t help that he was also a light sleeper with super-soldier hearing. He didn’t know what was causing you to be so upset, but he didn’t want to intrude and ask. Neither of you had spoken to the other since you first arrived.

But this night was different from the rest. Usually, you would flip endlessly through channels on ur TV until you eventually fell asleep, but it wasn’t working this time. There’s a tight pain in your chest and suddenly, you’re suffocating. You rip off your covers and spring out of bed, tripping on your blankets along the way. At this point, you don’t even register the pain of slamming down, face-first on the ground. Panic has taken over your body, tears now streaming down your face. You squeeze your eyes shut, hoping for relief.

He wasn’t planning on doing anything until he heard a loud thud from your room. Immediately, Bucky gets up and arrives at your door. It’s rude to just barge into someone’s room, his mom taught him that from a young age, so he settles on knocking. You don’t hear it though, the only sound you hear is the sound of your rapid breathing as you hyperventilate. Bucky hears it too and ultimately decides on inviting himself into your room.

“Y/N?”

You’re lying on your side, curled up in a fetal position with your hands covering your face, when Bucky opens the door. He quickly arrives by your side, kneeling beside you, as he examines you for any injuries.

“Are you hurt?”

You manage to shake your head in response, anxiety still flowing through your veins. Unfortunately, Bucky’s familiar with panic attacks, having had them himself. But he also knows that everyone deals with them a bit differently. Guess he did manage to learn some useful things from therapy.

“Can you try breathing with me?”

He starts to take deep breaths in and out until he sees you start to follow along with him, your hands still covering your face. There’s a part of you that feels stupid for keeping them there, but they help ground you, so you continue to shield your face. After what feels like an hour, but was probably only 10 minutes, your panic subsides. That’s when a wave of embarrassment hits you, realizing that it had been Bucky with you during your panic attack.

Slowly removing your hands from your face, you’re greeted by piercing blue eyes. You blink a couple times, realizing that Bucky had taken a spot on the ground, lying on his side to face you, his hands pressed together under his head like a pillow. He smiles and you feel warm. It’s terrifying, the new feelings that Bucky has caused you to feel and yet, you don’t mind.

“You feelin’ better?” You nod and smile back, something you haven’t genuinely done in a while.

“Thank you, Bucky.”

You stare at each other in silence, lying side by side. There’s no physical touch involved but somehow, this moment, it feels intimate. Bucky breaks the silence.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He speaks in a voice so soft, it almost sounded like a whisper.

It might’ve been the fact that he just calmed you down from a panic attack, but as you looked into his eyes, you felt the walls you had built up for the last year slowly come crashing down.

“He killed my brother,” you reply, maintaining your eyes on Bucky. You searched his eyes for any fear or pity, but all you could find was a look of understanding. His eyes were starting to become a safe place for you.

“Alex was there when Steve took down S.H.I.E.L.D., HYDRA along with it. He wanted out, out of the organization.” Taking a deep breath, you continue. “Word got around about a “rat,” so I took the blame. Viktor was about to shoot me when Alex’s dumbass ran in front of me, sacrificing himself.” You let out a chuckle, your vision getting blurry as tears swelled in your eyes. “He was a goddamn idiot, but he also had a heart of gold.”

As you start to cry, Bucky hesitatingly extends an arm to hover over your body, trying to gauge your reaction. Physical touch was something he struggled with during the beginning of his recovery, and he didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. He’s reassured when you grab onto his shirt and pull yourself closer to him, and wraps an arm around you, his other hand softly stroking your head.

You hadn’t cried like this since Alex died, bottling up all of your emotions to focus on finding the man responsible for his death. But as you sobbed into Bucky’s chest, you realize that your love for Alex had transformed into an ugly, burning hatred for Viktor. He wouldn’t want this. You didn’t want it, at least, not anymore. The only thing you wanted was your brother back, and that was impossible.

Bucky held you in his arms until you fell asleep, listening to the sounds of your slow, rhythmic breathing, dozing off shortly after.

That night with Bucky had softened your cold, hard exterior that you initially presented yourself with. You would willingly spar with Nat in the training room and join the team for breakfast or dinner. Everyone noticed and, while at first thrown off by it, happily embraced it. Especially Bucky.

Initially, he got up to work out in the early hours of the morning as a habit. Now, he woke up to see you. His heart did flips in his chest every time he walked in the gym and saw you. Since that night, you started to acknowledge his presence, turning to smile and wave as he walked through the doors. It was something he looked forward to every day.

During the day, you were focused hard on tracking down Viktor and Bucky knew that. But he also knew he wanted to spend more time with you. He looked for reasons to enter the lab, whether it was offering snacks to you throughout the day or helping Bruce or, even Tony. Anything to see you again.

Bucky realized that there was a deeper, stronger emotion that he felt for you when he would wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare. The first thing he thought about was you. Specifically, how you were the only thing that could possibly calm him down. Although he’d come in that night to help you with your panic attack, you ended up helping him as well. He hadn’t slept as soundly and peacefully as he did with you. And you hadn’t either. There were several nights when neither of you could sleep and ended up running into each other. It slowly became a routine that would begin in the kitchen, exchanging life stories, and end on the couch in the common area, entangled in each other’s arms.

Tonight you didn’t show up and Bucky panicked. He stared at the kitchen clock. It had been 20 minutes and you still hadn’t shown up. Bucky racked his brain for anything he could’ve done to scare you off, but came up with nothing. It wasn’t like you two had been officially together, Bucky had no idea what you were to each other. All he knew is that he wanted to be with you, always.

You were soundly asleep in bed, passing out as soon as your head hit the pillow. It was a particularly physically exhausting day for you, training with both Nat and Steve.

Bucky was so caught up with the thoughts racing through his head, he hadn’t noticed that his feet had taken him right to your door. He stands there for a moment, silently debating what to do. Grumbling under his breath, he musters up the courage to knock on your door. Right as he was about to turn away and shuffle off to his room, your door opens. You greet him with a yawn and a tired smile.

“Oh, hey Bucky.”

He looks at the bags under your eyes and feels instant regret wash over him, realizing that you weren’t avoiding him, but just getting some sleep.

“Sorry,” he looks down at his feet. You frown and place a hand on his cheek to lift his head up.

“Something wrong?” He avoids your gaze, partially because he’s embarrassed and partially because his cheeks were turning red because of your touch.

“No.” You cross your arms and let out a sigh.

“You’re a bad liar.” It’s his turn to sigh, as he scratches the back of his head.

“You didn’t come to the kitchen,” he lets out, in almost a whisper. It hits you. You were so tired, you had completely forgotten about your nightly tradition. “It’s stupid, sorry. I shouldn’t have woken you up," he mumbles. Bucky begins to walk off but you grab his hand. When he turns to look at you, his brows are raised at your touch.

As you start to speak, you pull him close, facing you. “It’s not stupid.” His hands move to hold your waist as yours move to wrap around his neck. You pause, an idea popping into your head. “I’m kind of tired from training today, wanna just come sleep with me?” He nods and you drag him to your bed, nestling into his arms as he holds you to his chest, his chin resting above your head. You tilt your head back to see him looking down at you. There’s a fluttering feeling in your chest and you smile.

“Just for future reference, you have an open invitation to cuddle with me, anytime.” Bucky chuckles at your offer.

“I’ll keep that in mind, doll.”

Bucky cups your face in his hand and you nuzzle your cheek in his palm. His eyes dart down to your lips before returning to your eyes.

Then, the most delicate, sweetest kiss you’ve ever received is on your lips.

You flutter your eyes open as you both pull apart. He quickly kisses your nose before pulling you back into his chest, speaking softly.

“And you have an open invitation to kiss me, anytime.”

[bestofbucky]

Run To You - 11

Pairings: Bucky x reader

Warnings: canon level violence, angst

A/N at the end of the chapter.

Divider by me.

Series Masterlist.

Zola walks over to the door, knocking twice on it. You hear the door unlock and three burly men walk in, guns strapped to their hips. Before any of them can make a move you are standing up, still attached to the chair, then flinging yourself onto the floor. The chair shatters beneath you but the three men instantly react, all heading towards you. Your legs are free to move but your hands are still tied behind your back. You manage to easily dodge their attacks, throwing them off balance when their punches don’t land. 

They are starting to get tired. You can tell by the way they are becoming clumsy with their movements. You take advantage of this, using their strength to break the restraints on your wrists. It hurts but it’s worth it and within minutes of your hands being free, the three men are on the floor unconscious. 

“You want me dead?” You turn to Zola. “You’re going to have to do it yourself.” 

Before either of you can make a move, more men are charging into the room. Zola uses them as a distraction to grab a gun, he waits for the perfect moment.

Meanwhile you are fighting as hard as you can. You know you won’t be able to keep it up for much longer so you put everything you have into taking them down. Focusing on the last man standing you realise it's the same man who previously knocked you unconscious. He charges at you and you use all that's left of your energy to duck and trip him up, kneeling on his lower back you grab his hair and slam his head into the ground. Unfortunately you aren’t given long to bathe in the satisfaction of giving the man a taste of his own medicine.

You feel something pressed to the back of your head. You know it’s a gun. You also know that in perfect condition you would easily be able to disarm him, but you aren’t in perfect condition. You have a concussion, you are exhausted, your wrist is almost definitely broken from getting out of the restraints. There is no getting out of this.

You’ve always wondered how your story would end. Sometimes even wanting to write your own ending, take control of your fate, but you never imagined it this way. You take a deep breath, bringing yourself back to the present moment. It’s only then you realise the feeling has gone, sounds of scuffling reach your ears and you turn around.

Bucky. 

Bucky has Zola on the ground. It all happens so fast. A gunshot goes off, Bucky falls to the side with a groan. Your body takes over, grabbing a gun from one of the unconscious men and firing it at Zola before he can take another shot.

The bullet hits him in the arm, forcing him to drop the gun, you kick it away from him and immediately make your way to Bucky, not giving Zola a second glance as you hear him howl in pain.

“Fuck.” All you can see is blood, you have no idea where it’s coming from. “Where were you shot, Bucky?” He doesn’t answer, his face is twisted in pain and it’s clear he needs immediate  medical attention. He is losing blood fast.

“We...need...out of here.” He mumbles and you agree, you help him to his feet, his hand instinctively goes to his abdomen. You guess that’s where he got shot. You place one arm around his back and your other hand over his, putting pressure on it to help stop the bleeding. 

You both stumble through the warehouse, eventually coming across an exit. You see cars in the distance, you know stealing one is Bucky’s only chance at surviving this but it’s not going to be easy or quick trying to get him all that way.

You lean him against the wall of the warehouse. “Bucky?” You stand in front of him, he looks at you with glassy eyes. “Do you trust me?” You don’t know how aware of his surroundings he is so you repeat yourself, this time firmer and louder. “Bucky do you trust me?” 

Time seems to slow as he takes a moment to consider your question. You wonder what is going through his mind as he looks deep in thought. You don’t have time for this though, if you wait too long there will be Hydra thugs on you and there is no way you would be able to hold them all off.

“Wait here.” You tell him, deciding you no longer have the time to wait for his answer. You know he won’t be able to get far with his injury, but knowing Bucky he would definitely try. Just as you turn around you feel him grab your hand, stopping you from going anywhere.

You turn back to him to see him wincing at the sudden movement he just made. He ignores the pain and lifts your hand up to his lips. “I trust you.” He mumbles against your skin and places the most delicate kiss on the back of your hand. 

Such a simple gesture and it warms your heart. Although he took a while, to him it was such a simple answer. He trusted you with his life and you saw that in the look he gave you. 

Knowing you had to do everything you could to save him you reluctantly let go of his hand and sprinted off into the rain in the direction of the cars in the distance. You get to the closest one, smashing the window and unlocking the doors. Thank god you know how to hotwire a car, otherwise you would both be screwed. You drive it back to Bucky, getting out to help him get into the passenger side. 

In your mirrors you see men in the distance, heading towards the other cars. You are plunged back to three years ago. The rain, the chase, the person you care so much about in the passenger seat, depending on you. It’s all the same. You try to accelerate but can’t seem to push your foot down, your brain stopping you from going anywhere.

You hear Bucky call your name and you look over to him but he is no longer there. Instead, it’s Zee. There is so much blood, the colour of her skin is enough to know she has no life left within her. Reaching over you gently take her hand, it is still slightly warm. In that moment you realise there was nothing more you could have done to save her but there is something different about this time. This time, you can save Bucky. 

You are brought back to the present moment by the feeling of his hand taking yours. He has his head leaning back on the head rest, with his eyes closed and the other hand still over his wound. You feel him squeeze your hand and you push the thoughts of the accident from your mind.

Letting go of Bucky’s hand, motivation kicks in and your foot presses on the accelerator, speeding away from the warehouse. You are not safe yet though, you see three cars following you. You try swerving, and taking sharp corners but nothing seems to get them off your back.

Grabbing the gun you stole with one hand, the other hand still on the steering wheel you point it out the window, back at the cars behind you. Firing randomly you inwardly cheer when you finally manage to hit the front car’s tire, causing it to slow suddenly and a car behind to swerve around it. Going straight into a tree.

Two down, one to go. The back window smashes and you duck, bullets are being fired back at you. Looking over at Bucky you push his head down forcing him to duck. The rain seems to get harder and your vision of the road gets worse. You turn onto a familiar road, taking a deep breath you press harder on the accelerator, watching as the speed dial goes up gradually. You can still see the car in your mirrors as it speeds up with you, getting so close they occasionally bump into the back of you. 

They continue to fire at you but you are only focused on the road ahead of you. You see the familiar sign in the distance, it's getting closer and closer by the second and you are starting to doubt whether you can actually pull this off or not.

Three. You start a countdown in your head.

Two. You look behind you and the car is still right up your ass.

One. You swerve right at the last minute, you narrowly avoid the drop but the car behind you isn’t so lucky, they hurtle over the edge of the road, exactly the same way you did three years ago. 

You know you don’t have any time to dwell on what just happened so you push all your thoughts down and continue driving. You continue to push them down when you get to the gates of the compound. Still not letting them back up when Bucky gets wheeled off into surgery or when Sam, Steve and Natasha all meet up with you as the nurses check over your injuries. You don’t even allow yourself to think about anything that happened when the doctor tells you that Bucky is going to be ok.

You can’t be bothered to argue when Sam tells you to stay at the compound, you know you wouldn’t be safe at the apartment you had been living in for the past few weeks. You don’t speak more than you have to, only telling people the basic information they need to know. Afraid if you start to tell them more, you will break down and won’t be able to come back from it.

It’s only when you step inside the apartment that you can’t hold it down any longer. You make it as far as closing the door behind you before you collapse onto the floor under the weight of your thoughts. It’s too much to process and all comes back to you in a jumbled mess. 

Bucky came for you. Zola is still out there. You were almost in the exact same accident as you were three years ago. You saved Bucky. Bucky is a murderer. Zola won’t stop until he gets what he wants. Zee is gone. Bucky is safe. 

The exhaustion is overwhelming but the thoughts prevent you from sleeping. They just continue to bounce back and forth and you are forced to relive it all, feeling everything as if it was happening again in that moment.

Previous Part / Next Part

Let me know what you think by commenting, reblogging or leaving an ask.

A/N: Only two more chapters to go! I have them written. What should I do? Should I post 12 on Sunday then 13 on Tuesday. Or prolong it and stick with the Thursdays.

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[rodeo-boots]

Write about Colm o'driscoll nsfw or sfw it don't matters. Just him with his girl/boy whatever tickles ur fancy! ☺️

I wrote a gender-neutral reader, hope that's fine <3 Thanks for the request.

Rating: Explicit

Words: 1635

Warnings: Strangulation using a tie/Breath Play

AO3

[NSFW under the cut]

-––––––––––––––––––––

He was already knuckle-deep inside you. Your back curved where you laid stretched out upon the table, eyes rolled back from the pleasure coursing through your veins.

As much as you hated being seen as small, weak, inferior or anything of the like, you were just as aroused by the power-difference between you and the gang-leader. Colm O'Driscoll might've just been the best lay you've had in years.

The man wasn't gentle, wasn't even really considerate, moving with the need to prepare you rather than any sort of care he might hold deep within himself. But you didn't want it another way.

And neither did you want him to actually shed any of his fancy clothing, to get down onto your own level by being in a similar state of undress as you were. Just like this, with his vest, shirt tie and pants in place was perfect. He even still wore his hat, looking completely unbothered while you writhed under his touches, and felt your skin tingling by the simple look within his eyes.

"Such a pretty little bird," he cooed, voice sweet and thick, cold around the edges though that only made it that much more appealing. He twisted his fingers, crooked them knowingly to elicit more filthy noises from your throat. "You only get like this for me." A grin spread over his face, long gray hair framing his features in a way that almost made him appear angelic.

The setting might make you feel like this was the end of a romantic date, with the room illuminated by flickering candlelight, and darkness sitting within the corners. You were only celebrating a successful robbery, however, or relieving stress after an unsuccessful one, you couldn't remember.

It didn't matter anyhow, since that didn't change anything about the end result.

"Stop talkin'– and get on with it." You were all out of patience, had been teased for long enough that night, already feeling Colm's growing arousal where his clothed erection rubbed up against your bare thigh.

He chuckled, the sound low and dubious, sending a shiver right down your spine and even more heat directly into your loins. "Since when are you in charge?" He asked, purposely slowing his motions while still refusing to give your sex any additional stimulation.

Colm loved playing with you, teasing you, had done so ever since he realized that you had more than a professional interest in him. One of these days, you really wished to pay him back for all of it.

For now, you grit your teeth, bit back any comments that might've left your mouth otherwise and tried to roll your hips down onto his fingers, in an attempt to have them hit the right spots again.

He clicked his tongue at the sight, held you down even stronger than before and pulled his fingers out. A sound close to a sob fell from your lips, hips bucking upwards to try and chase his touch, but all at once – it was gone.

Colm disappeared, his warmth no longer as close as it had been before. He sat down in the plush armchair meant only for his arrogant butt, his legs spread comfortably while his hand reached down to the bulge within his pants.

You sat up, kept your legs spread while your tongue ran over your lower lip. He seemed pleased by the sight, reached down and palmed his erection, his gaze nearly eating you up. "You know I need my right hand to be obedient," he growled, squeezing himself through his pants and letting his lips fall open.

Colm knew you couldn't resist him like this, that you were desperate and willing already. Now, it was only about getting you to submit fully. "Touch yourself," he directed, leaning back and taking his hand off his erection, even if that might've taken him an immense amount of restraint. "Show me how much you need me."

You whimpered, tried not to roll your eyes and slid off the table. If he wanted to tease you, you could play his game just as well.

Sticking your ass out for him to see, you reached down, touched your neglected sex before pressing your slick fingers into your entrance. With your legs parted and your head down, you gave him the best possible view of your actions, pushing your fingers in deep, though they weren't the same as his had been before.

If you wanted him to continue any time soon, you had to put on a good show, however. Had to entice him to step back towards you and show just how ready you were to obey.

A moan fell from your lips once you began fucking yourself on your fingers. First slowly, then steadily picking up the pace.

Soon enough, wet squelching and your ragged breaths were all that was audible in the room, the ongoing drinking from his men outside completely inaudible by now. You didn't hear much more than the blood pumping in your ears, anyways.

Goosebumps had shaped upon your skin from the cold within the air, and the ghost of Colm's touches. You could still feel his gaze, even though you didn't see him, could still feel his hands, even though he refused to lay them on you just now.

Your motions grew in speed, squelching and gasping sounding from your position at the table. And you were getting close. Each time you hit your sweet spot with your fingertips, your hips stuttered, the pleasure growing almost unbearable when you raised your voice to speak. "Can't take no more," you gasped out, your eyes fluttering shut when you pressed your cheek onto the smooth tabletop.

Another sigh fell from your lips, muscles tensing as your release was just within arms reach –

But before you could embrace your orgasm, your hands were caught and wrenched onto your back.

Colm's erection pressed up to your ass, finally freed from the fabric that had concealed it before. He rubbed his tip along your crack, held your arms even tighter as he watched you squirm and whimper and curse, and pushed into you in the very next moment.

"So tight–" he mumbled, a hand sliding along the curve of your ass and up to your waist, disappearing before landing on one of your cheeks with a reverberating slap.

You yelped, your walls tightening around him at the sting, and he groaned, chuckled low and deep before finally beginning to move. "Love the way you suck me right in," he spoke, his filthy words causing your cheeks to heat up and the knot within your core to tighten.

"Like you ain't wanna let me go again," he laughed again, thrusting into you and squeezing your hip hard enough to leave a bruise.

You didn't mind that, if anything basked in it, loved to know that you'd carry the evidence of your intercourse for many more days to come. Though he never had a problem making it impossible for you to forget about him.

Crying out the moment his movements fell into a rhythm, you tried your hardest to stop yourself from cumming too early. He was far from done by now, had only gotten started, and he'd continue ramming into you, even if you were sobbing from oversensitivity.

"More–" you rasped out, rolling your hips as much as you were allowed to while trying to withstand the urge to rut against the table. You wanted him to make you come, even if it would just be a byproduct of him chasing his own release.

Another laugh was all you got in answer, Colm's motions slowing before stopping for a moment.

You had halfway turned around to complain when he pushed your head down again, fabric rustling as he undid the tie around his neck. It was soon wrapped around your neck instead, held in a tight grip of one hand while Colm kept your arms secure with the other. "If it's more you want–" he pulled at the makeshift leash in his grasp, causing you to choke and for your breath to hitch and stutter. "It's more you shall get."

And with that, he set the pace again, rougher this time, the table beneath you rocking and creaking with the strength of his thrusts.

He pounded you into the wood, alternated between pulling the tie tighter and letting it loose to allow you to breathe. It was indescribable, black dots starting to dance in front of your eyes each time your airflow was cut off for more than a couple seconds.

And despite never having expected it to be quite as arousing – it only tipped you over the edge now.

It needed less than another few sharp and calculated thrusts for you to cum, for your muscles to tighten and flutter around his thick shaft while a cry of pleasure left your lips.

You rutted against the table after all, rode out your orgasm a lot harder than usual, while the fabric around your neck tightened more and more.

By now, Colm could vocalize little more than grunts and growls of his own, his motions growing sloppy before turning slow and deep, occasional bucks of his hips all that was left when his balls tightened and warmth flooded your body.

He released you all at once, let you collapse onto the table top to gasp for air, sweat sticking to your skin while your breathing slowly normalized.

With another pleased squeeze of your ass, he pulled out, his release trickling out of your gaping hole to stain the floor beneath you. "Good job, little bird," he murmured, leaning in to place one single kiss to the spot behind your ear, that being as much praise and tenderness as you were going to get from him.

[1987vampire]

All Yours | Tomura Shigaraki

Fandom: My Hero Academia | Boku No Hero Academia Word Count: 5k Warnings: Smut. Kinks include: A/B/O (Omega!Shigaraki x Alpha!Reader), FemDom, Mommy Kink, Bratty Shigaraki (in the beginning), light bondage, face riding, spit kink, cockrings, praise kink, light degrading kink, choking, pegging, crying kink, overstimulation, etc. Request: I just really wanted to write a Shigaraki fic. A/N: This is just me being horny on main. I love this lil dude, and there are not enough Sub!Shigaraki fics around here.  Extra: @babayaga67​ and @imuziawi​ asked me to tag!

I almost hadn’t recognized the smell as I turned onto my street. At first, I wasn’t quite sure where it was coming from, and I thought I might have just been delusional. After all, he had disappeared for quite a bit, but he had a distinct smell, a mix of citrus – the scent of his body wash -, smoky ash – a side effect of his quirk -, and vanilla cake - a sweetness that came with every omega in heat. I was surprised that there weren’t alphas lined around the block with how loud the smell was, but I was certainly glad I wouldn’t have to fight anybody off to get home.  

I fumbled with my keys for a few moments once I reached the door, mixing up and trying to unlock it with the wrong key multiple times. Once I finally opened the door, though, I was hit harder than I had anticipated, his pheromones coating every inch of my apartment. Hell, I thought walking here was terrible, but this was on an entirely different level.

Had he stopped taking his blockers? Being a villain and omega at the same time was certainly not a great mix, especially when he was the leader of a significant group, so he had taken to blocking off any indicators of his status, claiming to be a beta whenever someone asked. Something must have changed if it got this bad.

I closed the door and locked it in a fluid motion, dropping my keys and bag on the floor right after. I shuffled through the house, trying to figure out where he had holed himself up. I assumed he had made a nest somewhere, but I wasn’t sure where. He never kept it in the same spot, claiming it got uncomfortable being in one place for too long, and he always chose the strangest places. Once I had found him and half of my closet in one of the lower cabinets in the kitchen because ‘everywhere else was too goddamn loud.’

I looked through each room thoroughly, and after a few minutes of not finding him, I entered my bedroom. I was surprised at how much louder the smell had gotten. It wasn’t normal for him to choose such a basic place. My bed was missing half of its usual blankets and pillows. My clothes were strewn across the floor, ones he had ditched after not liking them enough, I guessed. I checked around the dirty area for a moment before approaching my closet.

I knocked quietly on the door, listening intently. A quiet groan met my ears, and I dropped to my knees in front of the door. He was in there. There was no doubt about it. “Tomura,” I called out quietly, not wanting to hurt him if he had a headache. He usually did during this time. “Tomura, may I come in?”

There was the sound of him shuffling and pushing a few things around before he made a noise of affirmation and pushed the door open a bit. I opened it the rest of the way and let out a sigh at the sight of him. He looked worse than usual, new scabs over the already scarred skin of his neck. Something had been stressing him out immensely.

Still, he looked pretty, his eyes half-lidded from being tired but still bright as ever, and his ordinarily messy hair even worse than usual. He wasn’t wearing much besides a pair of sweatpants, his chest bare and sweaty, new scratch marks crawling down from his neck. He was panting, practically drooling, but his lips still quirked up into the smallest of smiles when he locked eyes with me.

I hesitantly placed a hand inside his nest, afraid he would kick me out at the movement, but he stayed still, almost coaxing me into his area. So, I continued, crawling in slowly, trying not to mess up any of his work. He had to have been here for a while by how it looked. I wasn’t sure when he had gotten here, but I had been at work for ten hours before coming home, so there was no telling.

Tomura curled up to me almost instantly, letting out a low whine as he pushed his face into my chest. His arms wrapped around my hips, pulling me closer. I instinctively wrapped mine around his head, leaning down to press a kiss to his matted hair. I had almost gotten comfortable, ready to just sleep it off with him – after all, that’s what he seemed to want to do – but the thought was interrupted by him opening his mouth, pressing his rough flattened tongue between my breasts, and licking a fat stripe up to my neck.

The change in my mood was instantaneous, and I switched our position from both of us laying sideways to me kneeled above his chest. He moved to try and pull me down onto him, but I grabbed his hands and held them above his head, grinning as he let out a loud whine, his eyes growing wider as he stared up at me.

“You do know that it’s rude to do that without asking, right,” I mused. His face flushed red, and he turned it to the side, avoiding eye contact. Oh god, when was the last time he had acted like this. I was getting excited at just the thought. “Now, why would you do that without permission. Did you miss me that much?” When he didn’t move to answer, I chuckled and grabbed his face with one of my hands, pulling it to look at me. “Come on, babydoll. I need your words. Talk to me.”

He huffed loudly but complied. “You weren’t doing anything, so I had to.”

I tutted and shook my head. “You can’t just get things without asking. You have to tell me what you want. Staying silent gets you nowhere. You know that; we’ve talked about it, baby.” He stared up at me, biting back words. I sighed. “Well, if you don’t want to talk, then I’ll just let you take care of yourself.” I let go of him and began to lift myself off of him, but he moved faster and gripped my thighs, pulling me back onto him harshly. For someone as skinny as he was, he could sure be strong at moments. His nails dug into my skin harshly, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re needy today, aren’t you.” I quirked an eyebrow and leaned down so we were face to face. “Come on, Tomura, tell me what you want.”

He took a shaky breath before replying. “I want you to make me cum,” he grumbled, blinking up at me. “I hate being like this, but nothing I do helps it.”

I shook my head. “And what have you done to deserve me giving you that pleasure? You’ve disappeared for the past two months – I only knew you were alive because they talk about you on the news – but because you hit your heat, suddenly you’re running back with your tail between your legs. Hell, I should leave you to take care of yourself - you obviously don’t need me.”

“I didn’t come back just to listen to you bitch.” His words were bitter, and I could tell he regretted them as soon as they slipped past his lips, but the damage was already done. His eyes widened, and he scrambled to try and escape from underneath me. I let him climb to his feet before pushing his knees out from under him as he tried to run out of the room. He stumbled and fell face-first onto the floor, groaning loudly.

“Are you serious,” I yelled, standing over him. He flipped onto his back, and I pushed my foot onto his chest, holding him steady. “Are you seriously trying to piss me off, you asshole?”

He grinned up at me. “And what if I am? What are you going to do about it?”

I pulled off of him, practically shaking from anger. “Get up.”

“Or what?”

I let out a deep snarl. “Tomura, get your ass off of the fucking floor before I turn it beet red.”

He licked his teeth suggestively and stood slowly, taking as much time as he could. Once he was up, a grabbed his shoulders roughly and pushed him onto the bed. He let out a loud laugh as he fell back, propping himself up on his elbows and watching me as I rolled my eyes. I moved towards my dresser, opening it and moving aside clothes covering what I needed. Ropes were the easiest thing to find considering how many I had, but the other toys took a bit of digging.

Once I was satisfied with my finds, I moved back to the bed and straddled him, grabbing the rough skin of his wrists and pulling them up to the headboard. There was a small hook drilled right above it precisely for this. I wrapped the rope around his hands, knowing the knots like the back of my hand from how often I had done it.

When our relationship first started, Tomura wasn’t too keen on bondage or not being in control, but once I had convinced him to try it, he had never wanted anything else. I knew he found some comfort mixed with the anxiety of being completely at my mercy, and I certainly enjoyed it. I could sit and stare at him in this position for hours, hands bound above him, eyes looking at me with apprehension but excitement, pants already straining even though I hadn’t done anything. It was a beautiful sight.

He tugged gently on the restraints, testing them, and he let out a shuddering sigh once they didn’t budge, settling into the bed. I picked myself off of him and stood to the side, humming lowly as I tried to figure out where to start. Then, he spoke up. “Well, are you going to do anything?”

“Not if you keep up that attitude, I won’t,” I snapped back. “You sure do love using your mouth tonight, might as well put it to use.”

He furrowed his brows in confusion only to perk up as I began to shed my shirt, popping button after button of my blouse until I was able to throw it onto the floor, adding to the mess he had already created. Then came my shoes, which I kicked off to the side, followed by my pants, leaving me in only underwear. Then, I climbed onto the bed again and grabbed his face harshly, squeezing his cheeks so his lips were puckered. His eyes widened with excitement, and it made me chuckle a bit.

“You’re certainly eager tonight, even with that mouth of yours,” I said, placing a kiss to his lips, “miss mommy that much?” A high-pitched chirp passed his lips, and I grinned. “Now, are you going to work for your reward, or are you going to make this hard?” When he stayed silent, I continued, my voice low as I moved to kiss the rough skin of his throat. “Are you gonna let mommy ride your face?”

Tomura nodded, and it was much more excited than I’m sure he intended it to be. I moved and placed my knees on either side of his head, and I had barely had enough time to run my fingers through his hair before he lunged forward, licking a stripe up my clothed pussy. I let out a shuddering sigh of content followed by a low, deep moan when he did it again. When was the last time he had helped me get off instead of my own hands and toys? He was so warm underneath me, his cheeks flushed and breathing heavy enough to send heat up to me.

Before he could move forward again, I grabbed fistfuls of his hair and pushed him down into the bed. He whined, but I ignored it. “Give me a second, baby. Just one second.”

He stayed still, and I let go of him. I then reached down and pushed my panties to the side, giving him new skin to touch. He loved it when I still wore underwear when we fucked, saying it ‘just added something to it.’ I certainly didn’t mind the extra coverage, even if it wasn’t anything sexy considering I had been at work.

Once I was comfortable, I grabbed his hair again, softer this time, and lowered myself onto his mouth. He stayed still, knowing not to move, and when I mumbled to go, he wasted no time in getting to work. His tongue found my clit almost immediately, circling it at an excruciating pace that made me groan quietly. I should have known he would try something like this, I thought as he moved down, pressing a flat tongue against my opening before dipping into it slowly. The wet sounds that came from the action made things so much better, but I could already feel myself getting fed up. I didn’t want to wait, I wanted him to work, so I vocalized it. “Tomura, baby, if you don’t go faster, you’re not cumming tonight.”

He chirped in distress and pushed farther up, lapping at me like he was a starving man and I was the only meal in sight, and when he began to get tired, I ground against his face, making him moan onto me, a deep groan that sent sparks through my stomach.  When we had first started, he was completely inexperienced, only knowing the basics from the porn he watched, but porn was nothing like real life, and I was there to teach him that. Luckily for me, Tomura was always up for eating me out whenever given the opportunity, he loved to serve me as much as he loved to take, and he showed his devotion like this. He took his time, but moved quickly, pressing all the right spots. He had my body memorized at this point, and when I came, he didn’t let up until I pulled away, making sure I reached the utmost pleasure.

When I finally did pull away, the sight was something worthwhile. He laid gasping up at me, his face thoroughly flushed a pale red that crawled down his chest. His lips, chin, and nose were covered in a thin layer of my fluids mixed with his spit. His eyes pled for me to praise him, tell him that he was doing good, and I was happy to oblige.

“You look so pretty like this, doll,” I said, pressing a kiss to his cheek as I traced my hand along his bulge. “Are you all worked up just for me?” Tomura nodded hastily, letting out a sigh of content as I rubbed him softly. “You’re mommy’s little boy, aren’t you, Tomu?” He nodded again and kissed back feverishly when I pressed my lips to his. “Say it, then. Say it for me, baby.”

“I’m your little boy, mommy,” he cried out, letting out a high-pitched moan as I drew him out of his pants, my fingers dancing along the head of his dick. “I’m all yours, I promise.”

I laughed. “All mine? Really?”

He nodded, his breath hitching as I moved down and took him into my mouth. “All yours- ah- ahh-“ He pulled at his restraints and let out a chirp as I pressed forward until my nose touched his hipbone. He bucked up to match my movement, but I grabbed his hips and pushed him down.

I pulled off of him with a pop. “Stay still,” I growled and moved back down. He let out a full-body shudder, and when I looked up at him, his eyes were rolled back, lips parted in a silent moan, and his arms pulling against his ropes to no avail.

“Please, I just-“ he bucked his hips again, and I growled lowly with his cock still in my mouth, making him cry out in ecstasy only to whine when I let go of him.

“I told you to stay still,” I grumbled as I reached for one of the toys I had brought out. He stiffened at the sound of something vibrating and watched me as I slid a pretty, pink cockring down to the base of his cock. He tensed and then let out the prettiest sound, throwing his head back at the stimulation.

I grabbed his face and forced him to look at me. He panted, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he stared up at me. I pressed my thumb against his jaw and opened his mouth a bit more. He blinked blearily, confused, and then let out a surprised chirp when I spit directly into his mouth.

“Swallow it.” He complied, making a show of closing his mouth and swallowing loudly. He looked away out of embarrassment, making me chuckle. “You said you were all mine, babydoll. Are you going to listen to me now?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good boy,” I cooed. He preened at the statement, arching his back up towards me. I slid my hands up his chest to his throat and held the sides, restricting his blood flow as I pressed another kiss to his lips. He hummed lowly, a low whine of need. “Alright, you get to choose now. Do you want me to ride you or fuck you, Tomu?”

I let go of his throat so he could speak easier, but he didn’t respond, merely staring at me, conflicted. “I- I don’t know-“ he choked out. “I-“

A plan set itself in my head, and I gave him a devious smirk. “Do you want both? Do you not want to choose?” He stuttered, not knowing what to say. “Just a yes or no, baby.” He paused before nodding. “I need words.” I dragged my thumb across his bottom lip, pulling it down and watching it pop back into place.

“Yes, please, mommy, both.”

I grinned and pulled away, climbing off the bed. My strapon was a thick, blue one that I had finally decided to buy after eyeing it for a few days. I never really used it on myself, preferring to make Shiggy a sobbing mess underneath me with it. Once I had even convinced him to ride it; the images still sit in the back of my mind every time I grab it, his soft whines as he rode slowly only to yelp when I bucked up into him at a pace faster than he would have been able to handle.

After stepping in and strapping it to myself tightly, I pulled Tomura’s pants off completely, letting them fall to the already dirty floor with a soft thump. Then, I moved back to my dresser to grab a bottle of lube, flipping it a few times as I watched him. He was panting as his bright red eyes met mine. He was trembling faintly, tugging lightly at the restraints as his cock twitched at the stimulation from the vibrations.

I walked over and climbed between his legs, grinning as I spread them to fit me. He was already leaking slick – something I had forgotten he produced during this time. I didn’t even have to lube my fingers before pressing at his entrance. He moaned lowly and then shut his mouth, looking away as I pushed a finger in. The warmth he provided was incredible, practically inviting me in. It made a loud, wet sound when I pulled out, and I watched him for his reaction.

He let out a shuddering breath but refused to meet my eyes, his face flushing even deeper with embarrassment.

“What’s wrong,” I mused, dipping into him again but this time with a second finger. “What are you embarrassed about?”

He didn’t answer, so I slapped his outer thigh with my free hand. “I- I don’t know,” he grumbled, glancing at me before looking away again.

I raised my body, moving my face towards his while pushing my fingers in until I was knuckle-deep, pushing slick out as I went in. “Look at me, baby.”

He hummed out an ‘uh-uh.’ I curled my fingers, and he let out a moan, his mouth still shut.

“Look at me, baby,” I purred. When he still refused to look, I took to grabbing his face again, forcing him to look at me. My fingers began to move at a steady pace, pumping in and out of him. “Do we need to do the mirror exercise again, or are you going to look at mommy while she fucks you?”

The mirror exercise in question was an exercise in self-confidence that he was subjected to quite often. I would set us in front of a floor-length mirror and fuck him while forcing him to watch so he could see how pretty he looked like this. I was quite a fan of it; he was not so much.

He shook his head. “I don’t want to.” Insecurity laced his voice, and I paused my movements, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his cheek, followed by his forehead, nose, and then mouth.

“Please, bub,” I whispered, pressing another kiss to his jaw. “Let me see your pretty, red eyes. Be a good, little boy for mommy.”

His eyes flickered to mine and then away a few times before he huffed and nodded. “I’ll be your good boy.”

I grinned, moving back down. “Then, let me see those eyes, and let me hear your moans, babydoll.”

I surged my fingers forward, and he let out a loud moan at the action. I sucked a hickey onto his inner thigh as I added a third finger, prepping him fully. When I pulled out, noticing how close he looked to cumming, he followed my moves, silently pleading with me to go back, to let him finish. In response, I lined up my cock to him.

My soaked hand crawled up him and pressed against his lips, slowly forcing their way inside. “Open up,” I said, and he did, opening his mouth wide. I pushed my fingers in, curling them around his bottom teeth before letting go. “Suck.” He complied, and I watched, mesmerized as he pulled them farther into his mouth, sucking slowly and running his tongue along my fingers. “Good boy,” I cooed.

He chirped before mumbling something against my fingers. I pulled them out, grinning at the pop they made. He mumbled something again, but I still couldn’t hear.

“What do you need, doll?”

He hesitated before responding in a quiet voice. “Can you spit in my mouth again?”

My brain took a few moments before what he said registered fully. I let out a loud laugh and nodded enthusiastically. “Open your mouth, then.”

He paused and then opened wide, encouraged by my thumb helping drag it open. My other hand gripped his throat as I made him wait in anticipation. He looked like he didn’t believe I would do it before I raised myself off of him a bit and spit, smiling when I watched it hit the back of his throat.

He instinctively shut his mouth and swallowed, a small smile climbing on his face that was quickly replaced with a lewd look as I pushed the tip of my cock into him. He cried out and pulled roughly on the ropes. I almost wanted to take them off, wanting to feel his nails dig into my back, but this sight was nearly as good.

I braced his hips with one hand, the other still pressing against his throat, and then I snapped into him completely. He let out a broken moan followed by a sob, and tears gathered in his eyes at the feeling of being so full so fast. I pulled out slowly and then snapped in again, receiving the same reaction.

Then, I paused, waiting until he sighed, telling me that he was ready, and then, I set at a brutal pace, plunging into him again and again, reveling in the sounds he made. His cock twitched and twitched, and so I wrapped my hand right above the ring and stroked him to the pace of my thrusts.

“Aghh- ahh- mommy-“ he mewled, “please, please, please, let me cum, mommy, please. I’ll do anything! I’ll be your good little boy, please.” I put my fingers in his mouth again, holding his jaw open as I slammed into him again. He cried against my fingers but kept his eyes open, though they kept fluttering between open and closed. Then, I hit something inside of him that made him throw his head back, clenching his fingers into fists as he yelled. “Please,” he whined against my fingers, “please, mommy, please.”

I hummed and chuckled lowly, leaning forward to nip against his jaw. “Go ahead, doll. Cum for mommy.”

The reaction as instantaneous. He violently shook as he came, spurting strips of cum onto both of our stomachs as a chorus of ‘thank you’s were yelled against my hand. I didn’t stop fucking him though. If anything, I picked up the pace a bit, hitting that little spot in him again and again if his reaction was anything to go by.

Tears began to gather in his eyes, and he shimmied his hips, trying to get me out, but I persisted. He cried out again as I started stroking his cock again, his recovery period nowhere near done, but he still hardened after a few moments, though tears began to stream down his face at the same time. I mumbled praises against his neck as I went, sucking hickeys into the scarred skin. “You’re doing so well for me, baby. So, so good.”

He sobbed loudly and thanked me again, closing his eyes as more tears fell.

“You’re mommy’s good boy, right, baby? You’re all mine?”

“Ye-e-es, mommy,” he whined against my fingers.

“Are you going to let mommy ride your cock?”

He chirped and shook his head. “It’s too much. I can’t take it.”

“Yes, you can,” I purred, pulling out of him slowly. “I know you can, darling, because you’ve missed me so much. When’s the last time you’ve been inside me? I know you’ve missed it.”

He choked out another sob and nodded. “Anything for you, mommy. I’m all yours.”

I switched the cockring to a higher vibration setting, and he tensed his entire body. “You look so pretty like this, Tomu. You’re such a pretty crier.” He shook his head at the statement and sniffled. “Yes, you are, so pretty, and all for me.” The strapon was easy to slip off, and the thud it made against the floor alerted him of what was next. I straddled him effortlessly and lined him up to my entrance, rubbing him gently against my lips. “Such a little whore. Mommy’s little whore.” He preened at the name and sucked in a deep breath as I sunk onto him. “Let me see your eyes, baby.”

His eyes fluttered open and practically rolled into the back of his head as I began to ride him. It wasn’t a fast pace, relatively slow compared to the last activity, but he came in only a few seconds without warning, yelling apologies as he did so. I only laughed in response and then moaned as the vibrating cockring hit my clit in a delicious way.

Tomura was shaking his head again, crying as I rode him and tugging on the restraints to no avail, but he hadn’t said our safeword, so I knew he was fine. “I can’t take anymore, mommy. I can’t do it.”

“Yes, you can, doll,” I replied, gripping his throat again. “I just need you to cum one more time for me. Just one more.” He shook his head, but I nodded, picking up speed. He felt so fucking good inside of me, and the vibrations added just the right amount of pressure to where I knew I wouldn’t last long. I was just waiting for him. “You feel so good in me, baby. Do you like how I feel? Do you like being my little whore? My cumslut?”

He nodded. “I do! I do!”

I leaned down and kissed him forcefully, pushing my tongue against his and moaning around his mouth. He chirped loudly and pulsed, and I could tell that the wet sounds we were making were getting to him. “Are you going to cum in me? Going to let me cum around your cock?” He nodded quickly and chased my lips when I pulled away. Strings of saliva connected the two of us, and the sight of it made me even more excited. “Let me feel you, Tomu. Cum for me, baby.”

He yelled out, shook forcefully, and then came, and the feeling of him filling me, the warmth of it all, sent me overboard. I was cumming, too, clenching around him and sucking him dry as my face dropped quickly, and I bit him on the juncture between his neck and shoulders where his scent glands were, sealing that he was mine. My property. He sobbed loudly but smiled into me when I pulled up and kissed him again, biting his bottom lip as I pulled away. My hips finally came to a stop, and when I pulled off of him, fluids dripped out of me and onto his pale skin quickly. Then, I turned off the ring and pulled it off of him, much to his relief.

Tomura sucked in a few deep breaths and closed his eyes, sniffling every now and then as I moved to clean the both of us up. I dragged a towel against his skin gently first and then wiped myself off. Next, I reached over and untied the ropes around his wrists. His arms dropped limply once freed, and he didn’t move them. I had almost believed he was asleep for a few moments, but then, his red eyes peered open and met mine.

“Thank you,” he croaked, reaching his hand out to mine. I took it and pressed a kiss to his knuckles.

“Come on, do you want a shower? It’ll make you feel better.”

He nodded and lifted himself slowly, groaning at the feeling. “Can you help me,” he whimpered.

I wrapped my arm around his waist and led him up. “I certainly could have gone nicer on you.��

He chuckled, and I did too. “No, I enjoyed it. Thank you.”

I rolled my eyes and kissed his shoulder, leading him to the bathroom. “Maybe a bath would be more relaxing.”

“Either way, I think you fucked my heat right out of me.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

[ejlovespie]

You Give Me Strength

Fandom: Supernatural

Author: EJ (@ejlovespie)

Summary: A hunt gone wrong puts Dean and the reader in danger. When the reader gets severely injured, Dean is there to help her recover.  (angst & fluff)

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1860

Warnings: Angst/Cursing/Torture/Near Death Experience

Reader’s Request: Can I pleaaase request a dean x reader angst/fluff/near death one shot where the reader and dean gets captured by vampires or demons during a hunt gone wrong and the reader keeps talking back to them to piss them off so she can distract them from hurting dean which results in her getting beaten up in front of him and severely injured while he gets all protective and worried. 

A/N: This was my first reader’s request and I am stoked about it! Thank you Anon! This was so much fun to write so I hope you like it! Any feedback is greatly appreciated and any mistakes are mine. Thank you for reading! :)

As far as you could tell, you were in the basement of an abandoned building. The smell of mildew filled your nose and occasionally you would see something skitter across the grimy floor. Gross. About a yard away, there was a crack in the ceiling that was slowly dripping water into a little puddle. The drip drip sound was driving you crazy so you re-directed your attention to the room around you. The only light came from a few candles on a table where a knife and a bowl sat. You and Dean were both handcuffed to beams in the middle of the room, far enough a part where you couldn’t reach each other. You were also too far away from the table or anything else that you could grab to use as a weapon. You sighed. This was supposed to be a routine hunt; nothing that you and Dean couldn’t handle. Unfortunately, the demons you had been tracking had got the drop on you. One minute you were both walking down the street and the next, you felt a pinch on your neck and you had lost consciousness within minutes. 

 Dean still hadn’t woken from being drugged. You had called his name a few times, trying to wake him but he didn’t stir, just continued to breathe in and out in a steady rhythm. You sat there for what felt like hours before the sound of a door slamming behind you made you jump. You heard footsteps as someone walked into the room and you tried squinting into the dark to see. After a moment, a man walked over to Dean’s slumped form. You yelled at him when his foot came out and he kicked Dean’s leg. Ignoring you, he bent over and stuck a needle into Dean’s neck. You cursed and yelled again but were cut off when Dean suddenly startled awake. He sat up in a panic, his eyes wild and angry, and growled when he saw you. The man had walked over to the table in the center of the room and was picking up the knife. Shit. You could his eyes now; they were pitch black. Demon. You tugged at your handcuffs again, trying to figure out a way out of this situation. 

 The demon noticed you struggling and laughed as he walked over to Dean, who was glaring at him. His black eyes turned to you and he smiled before he took the knife and slowly started to dig it into Dean’s collarbone. You screamed as Dean groaned in pain and the demon laughed. In this situation, you had no way to help Dean except to distract the threat. You had to make him focus on you instead. You didn’t think before you started cursing and yelling at him, trying to goad him into walking away from Dean. 

 “Hey! Leave him alone you black eyed bastard!” 

 The demon ignored you and you started to panic when he brought the knife up to Dean’s face. You kept yelling, more desperate now. 

 “Why don’t you bring that over here bitch! Better yet, how about you let me out of these cuffs so I can kick your ass?”

 The demon straightened and turned to face you, a huge, evil smile on his face. He sauntered toward you as Dean hollered at him to leave you alone. Hearing the worry in Dean’s voice, you sent him an apology in your mind. You gritted your teeth and braced yourself when the demon crouched in front of you. You watched as he blinked and blue eyes looked you over. You weren’t expecting the soft touch of his hand on your cheek. You flinched and turned your head away from him as he laughed again. 

 “Well, aren’t you a feisty thing. You can’t be patient and wait your turn? That’s fine. I will just torture you and let your boytoy over there watch.”

 You heard Dean yelling again as the demon smiled and brought the hand on your cheek down to your chin. His thumb rubbed at your dry lips for a moment before he leaned toward you, close enough to kiss you. You reacted. In a sharp movement, you crashed your forehead to his, and kicked out with your legs. You were hoping he would drop the knife and you could grab it or kick it to Dean somehow but the demon just reared back and slapped you hard across the face. Your cheek burned and you were seeing stars but a laugh tore from your throat. The surprised look on his face made you laugh even harder. You stopped laughing when the demon’s eyes turned black and fury contorted his face. He snarled at you, 

 “You’re going to pay for that you little bitch.”      

 In a rage, the demon slapped you across the face again and then stood and kicked you hard in the ribs. You cried out in pain as he continued to kick you three more times. On the third blow you felt a rib crack. You could hear Dean screaming and fighting against his restraints. You also heard the drip drip, dripping from the ceiling. You tried to keep your breathing even and deep but you were struggling to breathe through the pain from your rib. The demon crouched back down at eye level with you. Looking back at him, you smiled and taunted him further. 

 "You hit like a bitch." 

 Once again, the demon slapped you across the face so hard that your lip split. You could feel the blood trickle down your chin. The demon pulled the knife out and held it in front of you to see. With a taunting expression he said, 

 "You should have kept your mouth shut. Now, I'm going to have fun carving you up real slow before I cut your throat and bleed you like a pig." 

 Drip Drip

 He plunged the knife into your leg and you screamed in pain. With a twisted smile, the demon pulled the blade out of your leg, causing you to scream again. He repeated the move with your other leg. The pain was making you dizzy and you tried to focus and stay conscious. You heard Dean now begging the demon to leave you alone and it broke your heart to hear it. Be strong Dean, you thought to yourself.

Drip 

Looking down, you saw blood everywhere but it didn't look like the demon had severed an artery. You gritted your teeth and focused on his face, internally chanting to yourself to not pass out. He smiled at you again before bringing the knife close to your throat. The knife tip touched your skin and the demon made a shallow cut across it. You weren't sure if it was the blood loss or if you were going into shock but you didn't feel pain. You just felt the blood running down your neck and over your chest. You heard a loud crash behind you accompanied by a new voice. Sam? Your vision was starting to blur, blackness creeping in the corners of your vision. You tried to turn your head, to see what was happening but you couldn’t focus anymore. You heard gunshots and the sounds of a fight going on behind you when suddenly everything was quiet and Dean was by your side. He was taking your handcuffs off and telling you to hold on, to stay with him. He was gingerly lifting you into his arms. You tried to stay awake; to tell Dean that you were sorry but darkness pulled you under.     

                                                        -

When you woke, you were lying in a hospital bed. Your head was fuzzy and every part of your body felt numb. You squinted at the window where bright sunlight shone through. Dean was sitting there under the window, sleeping with his head on his arms. His large, calloused hand resting on yours on the bed. You weren’t sure how long you lay there, watching him sleep, but eventually you joined him, drifting off peacefully.   

You were only in the hospital for a few days. Although you had lost a lot of blood, you didn’t have any permanent damage. You had a cracked rib, possible nerve damage in your legs, and some scarring on your throat. The doctor said you were lucky; you could have bled out and died if you hadn’t made it to the hospital as fast as you did. You were finally home, back in the bunker, and lying in your own bed. Dean had been mad for the first few days, telling you off for what you did and threatening you if you ever pulled a stunt like that again. You had just smiled sweetly and batting your eyes said, 

“I couldn’t let him touch your pretty face Dean. That would be a crime against humanity and women everywhere would have mourned the loss.”     

 Neither he nor Sam found that as funny as you did. Regardless, Dean’s anger had faded and now he was constantly fussing over you. He hadn’t left your side since the hospital. He had carried you, helped you bathe, wrapped your ribs, and changed your bandages on your legs and neck. He sat with you in bed all day, everyday, watching movies, reading, and playing cards. He was so focused on you and your comfort that you had started to worry about him. You told him you would be fine on your own but Dean had refused to leave; he insisted on taking care of you. It was sweet. This big man, a badass hunter, being so gentle with you made your insides all warm and gooey. 

You were both lying in bed now and the wounds on your legs itched like crazy. In the healing process they had started to scab over and no lotion or creams helped. Scratching at your bandages, Dean scolded you before gently grabbing your wrists to keep you from scratching. You groaned in response and he chuckled. Your wrists were still in his hands and he brought them to his lips. Placing kisses on your knuckles, he said, 

 “You know you can’t scratch at them baby...Maybe I could distract you though.”

You giggled when he leaned into your neck and kissed you, the contrast of his scruffy face and soft lips giving you goosebumps. Dean kissed your neck before moving on to kiss your chin and then placed a longer, warm kiss on your lips. Kissing him back, you sighed feeling happy and content. After a few minutes, he pulled away from you and grabbed your hand. With a serious look, he turned to face you and asked, 

“Promise me you won't do that again. Never put yourself in harm's way to protect me. I...I can’t lose you Y/N. I love you.” 

His words tugged at your heart but you argued, “I can’t promise that Dean. I will always fight for you. The way I feel..I don’t know. It’s like you give me strength. I would do anything to protect you.” 

Dean placed a soft kiss on your temple before murmuring, “Then I will just have to keep you here where we’re both safe.”  

Dean Tags:

@akshi8278

[haechansfbuddy]

"Can you write smut on jaemin? Like he just wanted to show you your real place😏 u know what I mean"

This could be interpreted in so many ways but I think this will do bc I had to rewrite it so many times

Req by: @junguwuuu

Disclaimer: don't @ me for not sticking to my request rules the only reason I did this from dms is bc we were mid convo when it came up. Pls ask in my askbox it makes it easier for me.

Right before I start, ily sweetie ty for requesting again, it makes me so happy. It's not as good as the first one I wrote cos Tumblr kept deleting it and this is the 9th one :( but enjoy

Me and my apologys for putting in time and effort to write fanfic 🙄: I'm sorry if it's not what u had in mind but mfbdkkdd

Warnings: Dom!Jaemin, Sub!reader, oral (female recieving), restraints, overstimulation, daddy kink.

Request: loading........./////////// 85%

Jaemin was usually a big softie. Today, however, his cute act was completely throwing of the window.

You were sitting on Jaemins lap, straddling him while he kissed you. He had his hands on your hips and you had yours tangled in his hair. You pulled away, gently going back to attach your lips to the skin of his jawline. He moaned lightly, the sounds he made were music to your ears. You decided to push Jaemin back, so he was now underneath you. You had never rode Jaemin before, because Jaemin liked to be top, but there's a first time for everything. Jaemin just chuckles deeply before saying "Baby, that's not your job is it" his eyebrow raised at you. He looked so beautiful, his hair flopping over his perfect face in a messy way (from having your hands tangled in it). He was such a sight to see, and he was all yours.

Jaemin flipped you over with ease, he wasn't taking ur shit today u belong under him. He kissed you again, harder and full of lust. You kissed back eagerly, feeling his hands travel up your shirt, teasing your breasts. And then he pulls away. You whine desperately wanting more. "Look at my needy baby, what do we say" "please fuck me daddy"

"No" He has a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Since you've been such a bad girl, you can't have my dick" you whine louder. "Baby don't whine you can still have my tongue inside you"

You pause and malfunction watch him as he slowly walks to a drawer on the other side of the room. You watch him open the drawer and pull out handcuffs, and this makes you wet. You get mildly excited but try to mask it. He chuckles lowly to himself and says in a sexy voice "undress" you quickly throw all it clothes somewhere across the room, and gasp as the cold air hits your skin, giving you goosebumps. Jaemin puts the handcuffs on, cuffing you to the bedposts.

Jaemin is fast to dip his head down so he's level with your heat. You can feel his breath fanning your pussy, making you needier. "Look how wet my baby is, is this all for me" you whine, managing to breathe out a weak "yes" He giggles before licking through your folds.

You squirm under him, trying to get your hands in his hair. He giggles again, sending vibrations to your vagina making you moan louder. You start squirming as you get more and more sensitive from Jaemin licking and sucking on your clit. Jaemin was sweet but merciless and all you wanted to do was touch him.

You felt your legs go weak and your body start to vibrate as your climax neared. You there your head back and shut your eyes, moaning at the pleasure Jaemin was giving you. "Look at me" he says in a husky voice.

You comply, and he makes eye contact with you while he flicks his tongue over your sensitive clit.

He smirks at you while you cum on his tongue, causing you to moan louder since he's turning you on further. Your whole body is squirming around and you're almost crying from pleasure mixed with the annoyance of not touching Jaemin.

He stood up and sucked his fingers, still maintaining eye contact with you, before turning around and exiting the room. Leaving you tied to the bed and needy to touch him

Requests

[the-darklings]

⤷ nsft alphabet | ❝john wick❞

Hi! Surprise. So with my burnout and general block with writing eating at me, I decided to flip the script and do something vastly different and completely out of my comfort zone. So here we are with a nsft alphabet. I will be doing one for Santino too (and possibly Hector + the Elder). So enjoy if this is your type of thing. If not, look forward to fluff alphabets in some not so distant future. Most questions are also broken down into two: reader and coa’s v (because the dynamic changes vastly here). Enjoy!

wc: 3.5k+ (I had things to say clearly lol) 

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Straight up: aftercare KING. John is definitely the type to look after you. Everything from helping you clean up to bringing you some water/snacks even. Very gentle after even if quiet, but there is a softness to his face whenever he looks at you. Those moments after are his favourite because they’re all about closeness and the afterglow. He’s also the type to tell you how beautiful you look and that he loves you. While he’s not much of a cuddler, he will certainly allow you to nest yourself inside his arms after sex. He enjoys falling asleep with your warmth pressed into him and his nose buried in your hair. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He has strong hands and he knows how to use them. He knows they’re capable of terrible things but with you they’re used for nothing but pleasure (usually in the form of his fingers inside you while he keeps you still). When it comes to his partners, he’s definitely an ass man. He likes coming behind you and grabbing you by the hips, pulling you to him or holding onto you. When he’s fucking you, he tends to grab your hips/ass to drive himself deeper and make sure he’s hitting the exact right angle he wants. 

& V: Her hands. He loves watching them work on poison, loves seeing those deadly digits play with blades, too. He knows very well that her hands are no less dangerous than his own and she proves it often. His favourite thing, however, is watching those hands wrapped around his length, working on him mercilessly as she presses loving, hard kisses against his collarbone. Often her hands are all he needs. Especially when she makes a point of licking her palm or spitting on it before with a knowing curl of her lips. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Expect him to come inside you. There is a whole other level of intimacy attached to sex itself if he gets to come inside you. If it’s a case of more-than-one oragasm, then even better. When he pulls out, one of his favourite things to do is watch it as it drips out of you. Sometimes, on a rare occasion, he might even put his fingers back inside to make sure nothing escapes, all while pressing delicate kisses against your stomach.  

& V: Much like above, he adores coming inside her—it’s a whole other high having her so close to him. She often craves a second round right away and tries to get him hard again so he often fucks her while still feeling his cum from the first round inside her. It only turns him on more. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Won’t try it unless you suggested it first, but he likes using his belt to tie either your hands or tie you to the bed. He also likes it when the Baba Yaga angle comes into play though he won’t admit it. Mostly because with others it’s a matter of fear, but with you it’s more admiration because you know he would never willingly hurt you. If you tease him with his title, it’s only a matter of time before his self-restraint frays. 

& V: Another case of “never would say it out loud” but gets very turned on by seeing her in battle. Sex after battle tends to be more desperate and sloppy but something about that display of power gets to him like very few things do. Another big one is her driving his car. The harder she works that gear stick, the more he can’t wait for them to pull over and/or get to their destination so he can feel those hands on him again. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

John is experienced. He knows what he’s doing in almost every instance. He doesn’t boast of his experience, either, and it’s less to do with him having strings of lovers and more so general life experience. John is also very intuitive and has had a wide range of lovers in the past, hence the said experience. He knows how to take care of his partners and their needs incredibly well and can pick up quite easily on what they like in bed as well as the depth of their limits. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying, will include visuals)

THIS

& V: 

THIS

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

John is serious in general. Sometimes in bed it can come off as a bit too serious because he tends to be so focused on the actual act to go cracking jokes. Any jokes with him would likely come either before or after sex. 

& V: She is the one to do the joking most of the time but she also has a way of pulling a joking side out of him, too. More so than anyone else. That being said, if she’s teasing him then that means he’s not doing a good enough job if she’s still coherent. Which only drives him to fuck her harder and deeper. She’s perfectly aware of this and tends to do it on purpose. She likes the look in his eyes when he jerks her closer with a furrow of his brows, fingers sinking into her skin as he bottoms out. She can almost see the mental switch in gears. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

John is groomed. He takes care of his appearance, and the only times he might let it slip is if he’s stuck on a job for a long time or too busy fighting for his life. Other than that, he keeps it tidy. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

For John, sex with you is the ultimate show of trust and affection. Foreplay in itself (when there is time) is a show of his love for you so expect him to take his time preparing you. He will always try to get you to orgasm first and while he is not too verbal in general, he will be sure to show you how good you feel, taste, sound. Often watches your expressions, savouring every twitch of pleasure in his exploration to see what makes you feel the best and drives you to your peak first. If you try to turn away or hide your expression, he’ll grasp your face gently and turn your face back towards him as a way to remind you that you don’t have to hide from him.  

& V: He adores her. Simple as that. While all of the above still applies, he would also definitely want to be as physically close to her as possible. He wraps her up in his embrace, holding her close till their foreheads are practically touching. Sometimes holds her by the back of her neck but delicately and more so as a support for her when he increases the pace. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Doesn’t do it that often because he has a pretty good lid on his emotions and urges. When it does happen, it’s if he’s been away from you for a while and/or is frustrated by the current job. When he does do it, he likes doing it in the shower. Quick and efficient, it’s also much easier to relax with a hot stream of water washing over him. It also helps to focus so he can pretend it’s your hands or mouth instead. 

& V: They can be apart for long periods of time for many reasons. Though John always tries to hold out for the real thing, sometimes his mind does...slip. She is so vivid in his mind that he can’t help it and sometimes imagines she’s right there with him. Her soft voice in his ear, hot and sinful, her deftly fingers trailing down his body, followed swiftly by her mouth. With an image like that burning behind his eyelids, it doesn’t take him long to come in his hand.  

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

John is not particularly kinky. For him passionate sex tops the list as his favourite. That being said, he does enjoy light bondage. Nothing that would ever frighten or hurt you but enough to send that thrill down both your spine. Another one, further down the line in the relationship would be submission. John is feared by all and hated by many. His strength is near uncrackable. But with you all those things fade away and he can allow himself to be something else, something more human and approachable. He becomes just John and the idea of letting/trusting someone enough to allow someone such an advantage over him is possibly the biggest sign of trust from a man who has lived his life trusting very few.     

& V: Lowkey hunter/prey except they’re both hunters trying to challenge the other to who has the upper hand. The thrill of having someone he can trust but someone he sees as his equal, always thrills something inside him. If the challenge is set, it’s always her that sets it (finding her, even time limits on how long he has) and she is not beneath leaving him high and dry should he act too slow. Like mentioned above, he enjoys submitting to her because he trusts her more than anyone. Also the sight of her riding him is something else entirely.   

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Your shared bed at home where he can be sure you’re comfortable and safe and you can be as loud as you want. He always makes it a challenge to make you moan as loudly as possible and won’t be satisfied till you do. There have been a few cases of you visiting other places/cities and him taking you there too - sometimes more than once - but his favourite still remains your bed. 

& V: While not the most comfortable place in the world, certainly his car. He has a special preference for taking her on the hood of his car. The sight of her splayed across the gleaming surface, her body elevated where he can see every curve of her body perfectly, and watch himself slipping in and out of her so easily, coils every muscle inside his body. He keeps his hand pressed against her lower back in order to raise her hips at just the perfect angle, too. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

With John it’s the little things. Sometimes as simple as seeing you making yourself food. Other times it’s waking up to you wrapped around him. He especially loves it when you wear his clothes. He also really enjoys it when you reach out to kiss him first, and likes it when the said kiss gets heated wile you press into him so he can feel the dig of your hips and the curve of your breasts pressing into his chest. That whisper of promise that is your body is usually more than enough for him. Time and distance is another big one. If you have been away from each other for any significant period of time, then expect him to be more eager than usual to make up for the lost time. 

& V: her handling any type of weaponry but especially guns. Them working together as well.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No pain or humiliation of the partner or the other way around. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

John is more into giving than receiving and he has had plenty of experience with both. In general, he enjoys being the reason for someone’s pleasure and will make sure the build up is just as good as the act itself. He’s the type to kiss your inner thighs, letting the scruff on his face scratch against the sensitive skin as he watches your anticipation build. Usually works you with his fingers first before diving in. Speed varies but he’s not shy about it and will hold down your hips if you’re squirming too much. If you tug on his hair, it just spurs him on more. Don’t be surprised if you have beard burns against your inner thighs the next morning because he can be merciless. 

& V: She knows how to get him to let his guard down. He is a lot more open to receiving pleasure from her than he would be with most. That’s mostly because she simply knows with one look when he might need it. Many times she has simply given him a blowjob while they’re waiting for their target to appear inside his car. she can sense when he needs to blow some steam off or a distraction. In return, he takes his time with her. She doesn’t give in easily. She grumbles and snarls more so than moans and whimpers, and it only makes him more determined to draw those sounds of pleasure out of her. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on his mood but he certainly likes to take his time instead of rushing. John is more into deep, long strokes that enhance the sensual side of sex. Building excitement and pleasure are far more important to him. Sometimes his frustration can and will get the better of him. At which point he will very likely slam you against the nearest surface, lift you up in his arms with your legs wrapped around his waist, and pound into you with intensity that will leave you barely holding on and shuddering after he’s finished.  

& V: Same as the above applies but they tend to both be a lot more passionate as she often urges him on or yanks on his nerves more. This is mostly because she wants him to be rougher and he tends to indulge her. With her, he’s also more likely to be rougher because he knows she can handle it so he doesn’t have to worry about accidentally going too far. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Depends on his mood and time available. Usually not super into them because he prefers to go the whole nine yards so to speak, but depending on circumstances will engage in them occasionally. Mostly if he’s frustrated with you or some outside situation. There might also be a degree of desperation, if, for example, he believes he might never see you again but wants to steal one last moment together.  

& V: With their messy/busy schedules, they’re more likely than usual. They don’t happen that often but sometimes with the rush of everything going on they need the relief of each other’s body. She’s more likely to engage in it but he never refuses her. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Considering how much a risk his entire life is, he enjoys the security of knowing you are somewhere private. He also cares a lot about you being comfortable and safe. Location wise he might get a bit more adventurous but even then he would much prefer having you home and all to himself. Sometimes if you’re out and mingling with other people, you can tell his mind is starting to shift by the occasional look he gives you. Those usually mean it’s time to go home. In terms of trying new things in bed, it depends vastly on what it is. For John, like mentioned previously, it’s a lot more about intimacy so while he would be down to try anything you want, his actual enjoyment of it would depend. 

& V: Danger and risk are their bread and butter. She likes to challenge him with things he likely won’t try with others. If she challenged him to make her orgasm ten minutes before Winston walks through the door for a meeting, then she is the only one he would break his rules for and follow through. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He’s usually pretty good at drawing it out since he enjoys savouring the act itself. He wants both his pleasure and yours to last as long as possible. In terms of rounds sometime once is enough, but usually it’s more. John certainly has stamina to go for a long time so even if it’s once, he makes that once count. But it also depends on circumstances and his overall health. After a tiring job, his stamina levels may be down. Those are usually the times he prefers if you ride him.  

& V: She is usually eager for more than once. He is happy to oblige. If his health is poorer, she is fine with taking charge and simply letting him lay back and soak in the sight of her working herself furiously on his dick. She tends to work him to the bone, too, but he rarely gives in that easily. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Doesn’t really own any until you likely come into his life, though he knows plenty about them. If you bring some along with you, he won’t mind trying them on you. If he finds you with a vibrator then he will help you but won’t let you finish till he gets his hands on you. Would be into handcuffs as well. Because he can get out of them easily but he finds it amusing to see how seriously you are taking this. 

& V: Depends vastly. V’s trauma and fear of being tied down/kept captive would take a long time to get over. She is certainly the type that, if, they are apart for whatever reason, she buys a vibrator and fucks herself while she lets him listen over the phone, and only laughs at his near silent frustration because he can’t touch her. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

John is not a very verbal man in general. Teasing from him is more likely to come after sex and it’s more loving than designed to heat your blood. He’s too busy touching you/making you one with the mattress to have time for anything else. 

& V: She’s the one to tease the hell out of him - simple as. Best part is that unlike with others, she actually manages to get under his skin. If he teases her, it’s after, and she’s dozing in his arms when he points out how she was louder this time than usual which usually earns him a half-hearted slap on the chest. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

John is on the quieter side. You can expect low, deep grunts and exhales of breath against your skin/neck, the loudest of which will certainly be as he comes. His noises are more about how he feels in that moment and for you. If he speaks, it’s usually raspy mutters of how beautiful you are or/and how good you feel/take him. He might be slightly louder if you’re giving him a blowjob and do a good job of getting him worked up. 

& V: Feeding off from the above but he’s always the loudest when she’s giving him a blowjob. Something about the sight of her before him and the way she looks at him the entire time, eyes steady and sharp, as her pretty mouth wraps around him that undoes something inside him with startling ease. His shallow gasps for breath and the eventual grunt of pleasure is the most power he has ever given anyone over him. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Loves, adores, savours morning sex. It’s both the softest and best way to start the day. Often he already wakes up semi-hard just from having you close/wrapped around him and what follows is just easiest expression of love for him. 

& V: Prefers it when she calls out “Jardani” oppose to “John” during the high of sex. Just something about her knowing such a private part of him feels like she’s reaching out and connecting with him on an entirely different level. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

John is long, thicker than average, but not terribly so. When fully erect it tends to curve against his stomach while the tip turns a rosy shade of pink when ready to cum.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Again, depends. Mainly on his physical condition at the time since he wants to make sure that you get a pleasurable experience every time. In general though, he loves you so much that he wants you quite often. Usually, at least on a semi-daily basis.  

& V: They’re both pretty decent at holding out for each other, though she pushes more often. Sometimes he thinks he can last and then he sees her after a fight - bruised, torn around the edges, but victorious - and knows he needs her right then and there. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He likes to doze off with you, mumbling something in reply to you as you both fall asleep at the same time. It’s rare that he falls asleep first because he likes to make sure you’re secure first. 

.

an: not sure if “enjoyed” is the right turn of phrase to use here, so simply thank you for reading and any feedback/criticism (i’m working on getting better with nsft content) is much appreciated. sorry I haven’t posted any new writing in so long, really trying to get back into it. current coa ch is sitting at 9.3k+  

[shreddedparchment]

Pseudo Princess Pt.21

Succumbing to Love

12/23/2019

Pairing: King!Steve x Reader          Word Count: 2,645

Warnings: Smut, feels, a smidge of angst

A/N: Rather than make you wait, I decided to release this on its own. It’s just smut, y’all. I mean, my smut is never just smut. There is a lot of exploration into their feelings in this one and some pretty big emotions are felt but it is just smut. I hope you like it! I don’t feel like I’m the best smut writer. I write it and hope that it’s okay but I know LOTS of other writers who can do it better. I hope only to make it enjoyable. Anywho, if you happen to reblog, thanks for helping me spread my work. xoxo

Losing count of the number of times that Steve has made your world spin is not possible.

Every climax seems to hit you harder than the last. Every touch is unforgettable. Quickly you familiarize yourself with the ways that Steve likes to touch your skin. The weight of his breath against your chest.

You know now the way his lips curve around yours, the taste of his tongue, and the gentle swirl as he moans into your mouth.

Even now, with it latched to your breast, nipple pebbled against his tongue as he suckles, two of his fevered fingers nestled within the soft silken folds of your cunt, his thumb doing a strange but luscious dance around your clit, you reach up to grasp a pillow left just out of range.

You divert them when you make no purchase and instead your hands find him. You grip tight and pull him in closer, fingers tangled in his messed blonde locks, the other ripping at the skin of his muscled shoulder.

He hisses at the scratch and pulls his head away but when he watches you break beneath him into unfettered pieces, his eyes are aglow with pride.

He runs his thumb in circles and watches as you whimper and keen against his hand, your body shaking with the pleasure of his triumph.

“That’s my girl.” He boasts and his voice is thick with lust. Deep and in your chest, making you ache just a bit more for him.

The fuzzies of your orgasm fade and your hands go limp around him, limbs pleasantly lifeless as you recover.

Twenty-three.

It’s taken him almost a week to get you to twenty-three climaxes. Each one perfection. Each one accompanied with a soft kiss to your lips. Each one more exhausting than the last and at an average of three per day, it’s no easy feat…for you.

Your body is wrecked from pleasure and it has begun to almost become torture to feel good but not have him do so with you.

You crave to make the connection that the two of you had almost shared every night for the first six months of your marriage and never once been as close as you are now.

You want him to feel it too. Your love. Your desire. The inescapable need to consume him just as he has consumed you over and over.

“I’m sorry, my sweet flower.” He apologizes, pulling his hand away from your pussy to run it along your body's naked length from collarbone to pelvis in admiration.

He stops at your stomach and with one hand splayed across the tiny swell, he leans down to kiss it.

You don’t want his apologies anymore. You’re at your limit and you need him.

“Steve…” You sigh, turning to look at him as he continues to stare at your body, tracing strange patterns with the burning tip of his finger.

He looks up at you, a small curve to his lips as he grins at you, so elated to be here again but on a whole new level. Like you, Steve is basking in the splendor of his giving you pleasure. Finally.

“Yes, my petal?” Leaning down he presses his lips to your tummy again, caressing the curve of your hip as he slowly moves around it.

Wet open mouthed kisses leave your skin glistening.

“I need you…” You swallow hard, trying to steel your nerves to tell him that you want him to make love to you. He’s been putting it off for so long. Careful. Gentle.

He looks up at you again, his hand flat against your little bump.

“I want you, within me, my love. My king." You manage and the curious shift in his expression almost makes you smile.

“We don’t have to, Y/N. You don’t-" He tries, but you push yourself up until you’re sitting and he has to look up at your face.

“I can’t wait any longer, Steve. Don’t you want me anymore? Will you not have me?” You worry, wondering if there is some other reason he won’t sleep with you.

Steve scoffs, half in disbelief, half amused.

He reaches up to hook his hand behind your head, caressing the nape of your neck with gentle massaging squeezes. It feels intimate and possessive and it makes your heart race.

Lips parted, you gasp quietly, wishing he’d hurry up as the last blissful bits of your last climax fade.

“I have never wanted someone as much as I want you, in my life. I didn’t know that I could feel this way about anyone ever again, Y/N. That my most primal of desires could be so wretchedly distracting. All I want is you. All of the time. Every second, of every day. Even now, you are too far from me.” He sighs heavily with exaggerated disappointment.

You chuckle because now he’s just being dramatic.

“We are inches apart.” You remind him.

“And is it not too far?” He wonders, his voice low with desire.

Once again you find the air in your lungs escapes you and when you answer your voice is a breezy whisper.

“It is.” You nod, a quick lip to your kissed-out lips. “Far too far.”

“Do you truly want me?” Steve wonders, the lust trading out for genuine wonder.

After everything that happened, of course he’s going to feel uncertain, just as you do.

“I’m ready. You are not the Steve that I met when we married.” You explain. “Are you?”

“I am not.” He quickly assures you. “I was a fool. I cannot believe you’re still here with me. If you had been any other woman…I think you might have left me after the first month. Or murdered me in my sleep.”

You laugh again, overcome with giddiness because it seems he truly does understand the suffering you’d pushed through in the beginning.

“I could never hurt you.” You tell him, reaching down to cup his cheek.

“And I will never stop trying to earn your forgiveness for the pain of what I caused and the things I took.” He looks down at your throat and once again seems to be hesitating.

“Steve?” You check, worried.

When he meets your eyes, he’s careful, searching your face for a tell.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He sighs.

“You won’t.” You smile at him. “Have you not proved yourself to me twenty times over by now?”

You chuckle once, so happy for the week you’ve spent with him here in bed, feeling the careful but eager caresses and at times pleasantly rough touch that Steve has been so energetically lavishing you with.

Steve’s cheeks flush red and he looks so adorable that you lean down to kiss him. The kiss distracts him from his thoughts and his puckered lips as you pull away draw you back in for another smooch.

He slides up, pushing you back, settling over you as he lays you back down on the bed until your head is settled on your pillow.

When you’re surrendered beneath him, he backs up his hands sliding along the smooth silver sheets of the bed.

He stands by your feet, reaches back behind his head and pulls his shirt over his head, exposing the beautiful body you’ve been missing. You admire the sharp lines of his pecs. The tuft of blonde hair that flows from their center down over his chiseled stomach and disappears below the waist of his pants has you licking your lips again.

Despite being with child, it all feels so new. So unfamiliar. Exciting in a way because this is your true first time. This will be the moment that you and Steve really solidify your lives together. Not that they weren’t already solid enough…but this begins a new level of closeness. A sincerity that has been missing since you both said, ‘I do.’

You shift on your bed, wiggling a little in anticipation as your cunt begins to throb with want. It clenches, eager for filling. You’re nearly vibrating with yearning.

“Steve…” You whine, watching as he hooks his hands into the waistband of his trousers.

He stares at you, eyes fevered. “I’m coming, my petal.”

You stare as he finally rids himself of all clothes. Without restraint, his cock stands erect, soft and peach, pink at the head where it’s glistening with his arousal.

Had he always been so big? You can see the vein underneath pulsating. He strokes himself, sliding along his length as he steps closer.

You whimper again, so eager, you might just jump him. Luckily, he crawls over you, but you spread your legs for him, and he slides his hand from your ankle to your knee, pushing your legs back to make space for himself.

With your arms wrapped around his neck you pull him down for a fevered kiss, all tongue and teeth and pure lust.

You moan.

Steve responds, rutting against your pussy where his cock slides between your folds to poke and prod without breaking you just yet.

He grows slick from the slick that his body provokes from you.

As he breaks the kiss, you moan into his open mouth, both of you freezing for a moment to relish in your two bodies touching and radiating want. This feels right. Just as it should always have felt.

Your mind whizzes past the night Thor touched you and not once had it felt as it did now. Your heart hadn’t ached like this or soothed like this. Your eyes hadn’t watered like they do now, on the verge of tears from finally feeling whole.

This is the consummate moment that you should have had on your wedding night.

Steve licks your lips, flicking the tip of his tongue against your lips. He wants you and you can feel it, not only in the hardness he’s grinding against your cunt but in the way his mouth hovers over yours, tasting your lips. It’s in the way his hands slide underneath your shoulders and he pulls your chest to his, pressing your pebbled nipples against the planes of his chest. He’s cradling you like you’re precious. It melts any remaining reservation you had for him and finally as his lips move down over your jaw, he reaches down to line himself up and slides into you slowly.

For a moment you stop breathing. This filling, he doesn’t stop until he’s buried completely within you, feels different from every other time he’s taken you. This time, he’s not taking…this time he’s giving and you’re openly accepting.

As he stops, his lips moving back towards your own and his hand coming up to caress the side of your face, your tears spill over leaving salty trails on your heated cheeks.

Steve pulls back and pumps into you once, then notices the tears on your face.

“Y/N?” He panics. “Shit, am I hurting you?” He makes to pull out, but you wrap your legs around him and hook your ankles beneath his bum to keep him pressed within you.

“No…” You stupidly sob. “No, don’t leave me.”

Steve slides back down, holding you close as he wipes at your tears with his thumbs.

“Don’t cry, sweet flower.” He coos, his own eyes glistening as if he might cry too. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.” You sigh, trying to get a hold of yourself. “I’m so happy.”

Steve stares at you, searching for those words to be true. You smile because they are. You also sob again because you can’t help it.

“I love you so much.” You whisper, and Steve’s lips meet yours fervently.

He kisses you senseless and with your legs trapping him inside you, he begins to move.

He pulls back and impales you again. Over and over he fills you.

Every touch he makes is to pull you closer. Your mind reels, remembering the way he’d held you down before, your wrists, your hips, your shoulders. He’d used his body to do what needed to be done but had never sought to be near you.

As he pistons into you, your body shaking beneath his, he wraps his arms around your body laying right on top of you so that there is no space between you. He pulls you close however and doesn’t hold you to the bed. He wants you near.

“I love you…” He groans, moans, and whispers. He rubs his chin and cheeks against your own, nuzzling into you with affection while his cock takes you with lust.

He flips you both, turning you onto your side. As you straighten one leg, you keep the other hooked around his hip and pillows your head on his massive bicep as he rails into you, cupping the curve of your bottom as your skin slaps against his.

You turn your head, searching for him and he meets your open mouth with his kiss. Twisted tongues and mushed lips keep your moans quiet as you continue to groan with him.

He suddenly slows, his hands digging into your bottom as he holds you tighter and moves at a languid pace. He buries himself to the hilt, stopping every few seconds to watch you breathe heavily, high whimpers escaping your lips.

He kisses you after every one. Ecstatic and proud.

“Am I making you feel good, my Queen?” He asks, husky voice settling in your chest.

“Yes…” You sigh. “Oh, Steve…yes.”

He takes too long to move, and your hips move against his on their own.

“Please don’t stop.” You beg.

He obeys and renews his grip, but he moves slowly, his body cherishing yours as his hips grind against your clit.

The tension in your body rises. You pull yourself up a little, resting on your elbow as you cling to his wide shoulders and search for skin to bite. You find his throat and try not to break the skin but it’s impossible to resist the lure of his body.

He grunts as you bite, growling almost as he renews the rougher thrust and grips your ass so hard you know it will bruise.

“Yes…yes…” You moan, feeling that build up roll through your hips.

“You’re magnificent,” He praises you. “Perfection.”

And in the moment, who are you to argue when he worships your body as he does now?

“Steve…” You moan, your mind beginning to fog over.

Your body tightens, your leg is a vice around his hips. With your toes curled and your calf cramping, your body is rocked by its twenty-fourth climax.

You keen, biting his neck once again as your nails rip into his skin.

Steve groans, ramming into you a few more times before he slows and his heat fills you while he continues to pump into you, filling you to the brim.

Together the two of you fall apart, bodies rigid as a wave of numbing bliss takes you over.

After the pieces have shattered, after your cunt is no longer ablaze, you fall into his arms, weak and sated.

Steve is already kissing your shoulders, moving up towards your lips where he kisses you lazily, his own body still warped by pleasure.

“Are you okay?” He finally asks, swallowing hard as he finds your still crying eyes.

“I’m perfect,” You promise him. “So perfect.”

Steve smiles, relieved, breathing hard, his brow glistening with sweat.

You’ve never seen him sweat before.

You reach up to touch it, but he catches your hand and pulls it to his lips.

You relax, watching him kiss each of your fingertips before he kisses your palm then holds it against his cheek.

He opens his eyes, meets your loving and satisfied gaze.

“Twenty-four.” He whispers, then chuckles and rolls you onto your back as you laugh with him. “Twenty-five?”

He waits, watching you, stroking your cheek as he settles over you again.

You nod.

[ohmytheon]

Karma in Retrograde (10)

title: Karma in Retrograde

summary: When Dabi is hit by a de-aging quirk, he’s turned back to a 16 year-old U.A. Gen Studies student with self-esteem and parent issues, a destructive quirk, and no memory of the last five years. To help the Dabi of the past, present, and future, he is placed with Class 1-A. There, they must all face the question of whether he can change or if his destiny is already set in stone.

– Chapter 10: Aizawa observes his students and deals with the repercussions of the Bakugou vs. Ryouta fight.

Lanni notes: Okay, so the first half of this chapter is kind of a recap of the last chapter, but from a different POV. Most people know by now how much I love Aizawa. A big part of this fic is that Ryouta isn't always the most reliable of narrators, which is why it is important that we (the readers) are able to view him from someone else's perspective. Someone like Aizawa is able to pick up on things that Ryouta keeps from others and himself, both intentionally and unintentionally. Ryouta's used to playing close to the vest. He's opening up slowly to the other students and U.A. staff, along with us. Also, I just really love writing Ryouta from other people's POVs. It's interesting compared to how he views himself. The song for this chapter is "Savages" by Marina and the Diamonds. Here’s the link to our Discord again, which is also for heroes in the dark.

Humans aren't gonna behave As we think we always should Yeah, we can be bad as we can be good

It was Toshinori’s class, but Aizawa had decided to watch over it today. They had talked about it earlier when Nezu and Aizawa had explained the situation and both of them had agreed that it would be for the best. This would be the first time that Ryouta used his quirk -- the first time he was allowed to use it -- and they had no idea how it would turn out. If something went south, Aizawa knew that he would be able to put an end to things quickly with his quirk. Toshinori had never seen Dabi in action before and would be at a disadvantage. However, the goal was to avoid needing to get involved.

Considering Ryouta’s quirk, Aizawa was...intrigued. Many of the kids at U.A. casually used their quirks even outside of class, but he had noticed that Ryouta hadn’t so far. Maybe it had to do with coming off as less threatening. His blue flames were a signature of Dabi for these kids and he was trying to distance himself from his future self as much as possible. In class, he was mild and quiet. He let the others talk over and guide him, although wariness never left his eyes. It was like he was soaking everything in while staying under the radar to avoid attention. If this was how he’d been before, it was no wonder that they’d missed him. He was good at not standing out.

As long as he didn’t use his quirk.

Something else was bothering Aizawa though. The first time he had talked with Ryouta, confronting him about who he was and what he knew, he had been wearing quirk inhibitor braces that let off a warning sound if the wearer tried to use their quirk. They’d gone off, but it was clear to Aizawa that he hadn’t wanted to attack him. It was almost like he hadn’t been aware of his quirk at all. Then there had been the confrontation with Endeavor. Aizawa had readied himself to erase any attempted use of quirks, even Endeavor’s, but then Ryouta didn’t even try to defend himself. He’d even flinched away from his father’s flames.

What was it that Ryouta had said during that interview? “There’s a flaw in my design.”

Had he meant with his quirk? With him? He’d called himself a mistake. This was before he’d turned into a villain. What exactly had he meant?

To be honest, Aizawa hadn’t expected Ryouta to open up completely right away even though U.A. was going out on a huge limb for him. If there was one thing clear about him, it was that he trusted no one. Shouto’s memories of him were good but contradicted a lot of what they could glean from Ryouta’s school records and what they knew about Dabi. It sounded a lot like a big brother doing what he could to shield his little brother from the truth and there was a shame set in Ryouta’s shoulders that didn’t entirely come from finding out he’d become a villain.

There was a disconnect between the Ryouta’s behavior and the truth and Aizawa had a feeling that it had something to do with his quirk. Between the records of his quirk injuries, his hiding his lineage to attend U.A. as a General Studies student, and the power that Aizawa had experienced firsthand at the U.A. Training Camp, something was wrong. This hero class would be the first step to figuring that out.

That was if the entire building wasn’t blown to bits.

Aizawa stayed in the background by himself to watch as the teams and fights were randomly chosen. The dismay had been obvious on Toshinori’s face when he realized that Ryouta’s team had been picked to fight Bakugou’s. It was only because he was hidden in the dark that Aizawa put a hand on his face and inwardly groaned. Now they knew how this was going to end: not well.

A nasty grin had cut itself across Bakugou’s face and he’d tightened his hands into fists. This was what he’d been waiting for. His partner, Sato, sighed in acceptance. Kaminari, who had been paired with Ryouta, cringed and then muttered something under his breath that had Sero patting him on the back. All Ryouta did was roll his eyes up to the ceiling and shake his head, as if questioning the choices of a higher power. Todoroki glanced at his brother questioningly, but said nothing when Ryouta walked by and pat him on the shoulder.

Now the two teams were in position and there was nowhere else to run. Toshinori had an earpiece that linked him with the other students while everyone was left to only watch, which seemed to frustrate Todoroki, who stood off to the side with his arms crossed. Aizawa had gotten fairly skilled at lipreading during his time as an underground pro hero and watched the screens carefully in order to figure out their plans. He had to be one step ahead of him if them was going to keep Bakugou or Ryouta from doing any serious damage. Hopefully, they would stick to the lesson, but there was always the chance of error when combining such powerful quirks.

Without even being able to hear, it was obvious that Bakugou’s plan was to attack first and hard. He didn’t want to give Ryouta a chance to fight back. In the beginning, this would’ve been a lot more difficult for him. It still was since his emotions were running high. He had a habit of overdoing his quirk when he was like this, which would work against him in this lesson where restraint was key. Aizawa saw the exact moment when Sato pointed that out and Bakugou snapped at him.

It was different on the screen that showed Ryouta and Kaminari. The former was crouched down, examining the area with a sharp gaze. While his face remained as indifferent as usual, there was something brighter about his eyes now, how they moved from building to building, like he was making a mental map. The moment he started talking and turned to face Kaminari, his eyes dimmed, turning him back into the teenager who didn’t care about what was going on. It was a subtle but remarkable change. Kaminari immediately relaxed once he came to the conclusion that Ryouta wasn’t a threat, at least not right now.

Without hearing them, it was harder to tell what their strategy was. Aizawa could remember how powerful and hot Dabi’s flames had been when he’d unleashed his quirk as clear as day. It had nearly taken him out. Ryouta would not be able to go to such lengths in order to defeat Bakugou. If he wanted to win, he would have to be clever. He might’ve had some training with Endeavor, but it might not stack up compared to the training that Bakugou had been put through so far.

Had Aizawa been in Ryouta’s shoes, he would do what he could to force Bakugou into a corner. It would infuriate him and likely cause him to lash out. Fire was a good quirk to do that with. Ryouta could use his flames to keep Bakugou at bay, seeing as how Bakugou needed to be close in order to maximize personal damage without causing a lot of collateral damage. Force him to explode and he would take himself down.

That was, of course, as long as Ryouta had control over his quirk. The injuries in his school records and Recovery Girl’s memories suggested otherwise. He was sixteen though and, with a father like Endeavor, he should’ve been able to control it just as well as these kids. So why did Kaminari look so confused on the screen whereas Ryouta was intense and anxious?

As soon as the buzzer sounded, both teams started to move. All the students in the class pressed closer to the screens as if they’d be able to see better. Standing in front of them, Toshinori watched attentively, like any good teacher, but there was concern in the way he held his shoulders. Aizawa had half a mind to go down there, but he wouldn’t be able to see exactly what was going on without them seeing him. He stood next to the door, ready to run in at the first sign of serious trouble, but for now, all he could do was...have a little faith.

He had to trust that Bakugou wouldn’t go too far over the line. Over the past year, he’d learned that there were certain things that heroes didn’t do and had been forced to edit himself. This was an unprecedented situation, of course, but he could tell the difference between right and wrong. Aizawa also had to trust Ryouta on some level, which was admittedly more difficult. So far, he seemed intent on staying out of trouble, no matter how many times it found him, but there was always a chance that he was hiding more than Aizawa knew.

Ryouta came off as a good kid, but this had been the start of him becoming a villain. There was darkness planted in him that he either wasn’t fully aware of or was keeping a secret.

“Are they just gonna hide the whole time?” Kirishima asked.

Indeed, it did look as if that was Ryouta and Kaminari’s plan. They’d picked out a building and then went their separate ways, the former racing up the stairs to the second floor while the latter stayed on the first level. Once they found positions that allowed them a good view of what was around them, they readied themselves and waited. Had they gone with a plan to run out the clock? They couldn’t hope to entirely avoid a confrontation. That wasn’t the point of the lesson. Kaminari would know that and Bakugou wouldn’t let them. Besides, as much as Ryouta hid in class, Aizawa had a feeling that he was more clever than that.

“Bakugou is not going to be happy if they do that,” Ashido said. “I hope he doesn’t get mad at Kaminari.”

“Nah,” Sero replied, “he knows that it’s not Kaminari’s fault that he was paired with...Ryouta.”

Todoroki eyed the pair briefly before returning his gaze to the screens. It was only the second full day. The U.A. staff had known that it would take time for even the friendliest students to get used to this. It would’ve been better if they had been able to hold off on doing a lesson like this until later, but they couldn’t afford to hold the class back so close to the end of the year. It wouldn’t be fair to them. They were also making it a point to not treat Ryouta any differently from the others and changing the lesson to tailor him would no doubt irritate and humiliate him.

Kirishima pressed his hands together. “Uh oh.”

They had seen it before Ryouta did. He’d turned his back to look out the window, putting himself in a vulnerable position. Bakugou wasn’t known for being quiet, but he could do sneak attacks just as well as anyone. Ryouta must have heard the explosion because he dodged at the last second, quicker than Midoriya had the first time that Bakugou had used this strategy. When he rolled onto his feet again, he looked ready to attack. Aizawa straightened up. Toshinori clenched the mic tighter. Everyone else leaned forward, excited and nervous to see what would happen next, ready to see a massive amount of fireworks.

Except there weren’t any. Bakugou was relentless in his attacks whereas Ryouta did just enough to block them. He caught a leg in the middle that clearly knocked the air out of him, but instead of lashing out, he said something that infuriated Bakugou and made him lash out. He used his explosions to power his punches, but Ryouta still didn’t use his quirk to defend himself. Using his forearms and palms must’ve hurt. He didn’t flinch though. Sweat dripped down his face, more than Aizawa thought typical. It was like he was restraining Bakugou and himself.

Todoroki grit his teeth. “Why isn’t he using his quirk to defend himself?”

“It...looks like he’s doing it on purpose,” Midoriya pointed out thoughtfully, as if to himself.

“That’s crazy!” Uraraka exclaimed. “There’s no way he can win against Bakugou without it.”

Midoriya held his chin in one hand while he pressed the other down on the control panel and leaned even closer to the screen focused on Ryouta. He’d just taken a direct hit from Bakugou with his palm that had left his arm shaking and shoved him backwards. Of course this would pique Midoriya’s interest. He’d tried to fight Bakugou without using his quirk too and that had been almost a year ago. Bakugou had gotten much stronger since then. His reason had been that he couldn’t control his quirk and could only use it at a hundred percent, to the point where it hurt himself and destroyed everything around him.

“No one’s even paying attention to Kaminari and Sato,” Yaoyorozu said, pointing at the screen depicting their fight. The more sweets that Sato consumed to make himself stronger in order to attack Kaminari, the more damage he caused. Meanwhile, it was more difficult for Kaminari to control the direction of his electric shocks, but one that he was able to pass harmlessly through the ground struck Sato.

Yaoyorozu had a point. Ryouta was drawing Bakugou’s attention, causing him to act out and forget everything else. The more frustrated he became over not getting what he wanted, the more damage he created on accident. It was the best possible outcome for Ryouta’s team, even if it meant Ryouta taking the brunt of Bakugou’s wrath, which had been unavoidable anyways.

“Oh wow, he’s running away!” Sero yelled excitedly.

Everyone jumped when Bakugou launched himself forward and crashed into Ryouta. A few of the students cringed when Ryouta’s foot caught on the ground and the two of them were sent spiralling out of control. He crashed on the ground hard and rolled around while Bakugou managed to steady himself with his quirk. The painful landing didn’t allow Ryouta any time to dodge another attack. Bakugou was on him with an explosion that would singe his eyebrows off.

The burst of blue fire that Ryouta shoved from his palm made nearly everyone gasp and some of them jump back. Even Aizawa tensed. The flames had taken up the entire screen, blocking everything from sight, but when they receded, they saw that Bakugou had managed to avoid getting hit too much by jumping back. A handful of students, notably the ones closer to Bakugou, relaxed, but Todoroki didn’t and neither did Toshinori.

The fight wasn’t over yet. In fact, the true one had just begun.

This time, when Bakugou attacked him, Ryouta countered with his flames. It forced Bakugou to keep a distance or fight through the fire. The blue flames were able to cut through the explosions. Instead of looking stronger for defending himself with his quirk though, he looked worse, his face pale except for his red cheeks as even more sweat covered his face. He looked feverish.

A wince went through the class when Bakugou managed a direct hit. Most would have screamed in pain after getting hit like that, but Ryouta bit his tongue. He’d probably experienced much worse while training with Endeavor. In fact, this was probably similar to what he’d gone through before coming to U.A., considering how strong and knowledgeable Todoroki had been upon being accepted. It had been obvious that Todoroki had had quirk training before coming here. Ryouta clearly had some, but not nearly as much.

What the hell did you do to these kids, Endeavor? Aizawa wondered. He was incredibly hard on his students to the point where it shocked some people, but this didn’t feel right.

He glanced at the clock, noting that time was almost up, and turned back to the screen right when Ryouta was hit by an explosion and fell back while countering with his own fire. It was too much though, far too much, a huge escalation from what he’d been throwing out earlier.

Uraraka gasped, bringing her hands to her mouth. “He’s really hurt!”

Ryouta did look like he was in bad shape now, but strangely, it wasn’t where Bakugou’s explosions had hit him. He was holding onto his right arm, the one that he had been mostly using his quirk with. On the screen below them, Kaminari dodged a hit from Sato, who hit a pillar instead, which caused the building to rumble. Sato landed a left hook, but was shocked by Kaminari the second he made contact. It was large enough to distract both Bakugou and Ryouta above them, a look of realization crossing the former’s face.

They had not only known that Bakugou would go after Ryouta no matter what; they’d counted on it and planned on running the clock down as much as possible.

Midoriya slammed his other hand down on the control panel. “Kacchan’s going for an AP Shot!”

At the same time, Ryouta reared his left arm back and wild blue flames covered it, like he was building up power before shooting it off.

Aizawa heard Toshinori saying his name, but he was already halfway down the stairs. He burst through the door to the outside and was running across the street when a large explosion rattled the ground and blue and orange fire exploded out of building in front of him, causing half the windows on the second floor to shatter. As a body was thrown out the window next to the alley, Aizawa jumped and used one half of his scarves to pull himself onto a fire escape while the other half wrapped around the body. He tugged hard and was nearly jerked off the fire escape, holding on with only one hand, but he managed to keep them from hitting the ground.

Only then did Aizawa stop to see who had been thrown out the window. It was Ryouta. He hung limply in the scarves, his head hanging back so that his hair was just barely grazing the ground and his arms pressed to his sides. With his eyes closed and his lips parted, it was clear that he was unconscious. He must have blacked out when his and Bakugou’s quirks had crashed together or when he’d been knocked out the window. His face was relatively unmarked, all things considered. He must’ve been able to shield his face with his right arm.

Coughing from inside the building brought Aizawa’s eyes upward. Bakugou staggered into view through the broken window, coughing into one hand and waving away smoke with the other. “Is he alive? Is that asshole alive?” He coughed again and then leaned over to look down. When he saw Ryouta, wrapped in Aizawa’s scarves inches from the ground and out of it but breathing, he stared down for a moment with a strange look on his face before he seemed to realize what he was doing and scowled viciously. “That idiot. With a burst of fire like that against my AP Shot, he could’ve gotten himself killed.”

Aizawa let Ryouta’s body gently rest on the ground and then dropped down into the alley. Kaminari and Sato came running out just in time to watch as his scarves returned to him. When he’d pictured getting involved in this fight, it had been with his quirk, but there hadn’t been any time.

Kaminari skidded to a halt and hissed through his teeth as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Oh, man, oh man, I knew shit had gone south when I heard that explosion.” He took a step towards Ryouta and then halted, either of his own accord or because Bakugou had stepped outside with them. “Is he okay?”

“Yes, just unconscious,” Aizawa confirmed. It was nothing Recovery Girl couldn’t fix. That wasn’t going to be fun for anyone involved. She would be furious with them for landing Ryouta back in her care, especially considering the nature of his file.

Satisfied with the answer, Kaminari turned to Bakugou. “Are you okay?”

“Of course I am,” Bakugou snapped. “Why the hell wouldn’t I be?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because that was a massive as hell explosion and it looks like you’re wearing a sleeveless athletic uniform with burn holes in it?” Kaminari retorted. As Bakugou gave himself a lookover and grumbled under his breath in irritation, Aizawa looked him over. It looked exactly like that. He’d used his arms to shield himself as well; the sleeves were mostly gone and his arms were red and there were black patches where fire had briefly caught and he’d patted it down. He’d have to go to Recovery Girl as well. It wouldn’t be pretty.

“Aizawa!” Turning around, he saw Toshinori heading towards them, faster than normal. Skeletal and weak as he may look, he was stronger and capable of more than he appeared. Maybe he couldn’t run for as long, but that wouldn’t stop him from rushing out to check on one of his students. Behind him were the bots with the stretcher that would take Ryouta to Recovery Girl. “How is it?”

“Worse than it looks,” Aizawa said.

Toshinori nodded his head. “You three, back to the control room.”

Sato and Kaminari nodded their heads and left with the latter glancing back at Ryouta and then Bakugou before vanishing through the door. It was hard to tell what he was thinking. On one hand, Bakugou was one of his closest friends and he’d been in the remedial classroom at the U.A. Training Camp when Dabi’s second clone had attacked them. On the other hand, he had been Ryouta’s partner today and, depending on what their conversation had been about, probably knew a little more about him than some of the others. Only Toshinori knew. They would have to speak about it later.

Bakugou was a little more stubborn. He watched as the bots carefully loaded Ryouta on the stretcher. It was even more difficult to figure out what he was thinking. He still looked mad as all get out, but Aizawa kept thinking about the look on his face when he’d first seen Ryouta’s unconscious body. It had looked an awful lot like...fear. As if he’d been afraid he really had killed Ryouta or severely wounded him. Bakugou was a lot of things, but cold-hearted was not one of them, even if he did try to come off like nothing affected him.

“You’ll need to see Recovery Girl once she’s finished taking care of him,” Toshinori told him.

“Whatever,” Bakugou mumbled before he stomped away, leaving Toshinori and Aizawa alone with Ryouta.

Once he was through the door, Toshinori sighed and slumped his shoulders. “This is bad.”

“It could have been much worse,” Aizawa said mildly.

“His first real hero class and he’s been blown up and thrown out a window,” Toshinori pointed out with much more emphasis. “We put our students through this intense and dangerous training because their jobs as pro heroes will be even more so, but when I see them like this…”

Aizawa had a feeling that Ryouta wouldn’t consider this moment to be as bad as others that he’d lived through, but he didn’t want to bring that up with Toshinori at the moment.

Walking over to Ryouta, Aizawa bent down to get a closer look at him before the bots took him away. His uniform didn’t suffer was many burns on the chest or legs, but his left sleeve was gone. It wasn’t tattered and scorched like Bakugou’s had been; it was like it been completely incinerated like Todoroki’s had when he had first used his flames during the Sports Festival. It must have been from when he’d allowed the fire to crawl all the way up his arm before throwing it away from him at Bakugou. He’d only used his hand to create flames on his right.

What really caught Aizawa’s attention and made him narrow his eyes were the burns on Ryouta’s arm. Now that he was closer, he could see them much more clearly. They were much uglier than the ones on Bakugou’s arms, as if he’d been holding his arm over a fire for a while. He had been in a way; his whole arm had been on fire. On his right, his skin was red, the burn continuing underneath his intact sleeve, but it wasn’t as bad. His flames hadn’t covered it completely.

Still, it was unusual. When Endeavor and Todoroki used their flames, they didn’t suffer consequences like this. Was it a side effect of making his flames too hot? Of pushing himself too hard? Would they have to teach him to cool them down?

Even worse, these burns reminded him painfully of the even uglier ones on Dabi, which led the way to some nasty and unfortunate implications.

“He’ll be okay,” Aizawa said as he stood up and the bots took Ryouta away.

“This is the second time in three days that he’s been knocked unconscious.” Toshinori groaned, the sound of a tired teacher with a long day ahead of him still. “Maybe bringing him into this so quickly was a bad idea.”

Aizawa slipped his hands into his pockets. “Getting into the hero course was his dream. I thought I was the one that cut those short, not you.” It was still easy to rile the former number one hero up. He was so emotional. They had known this would be hard on Ryouta and the students, but it was proving to be difficult for the teachers as well. Yamada had admitted to struggling with knowing how to treat Ryouta, seeing as how he’d been against this whole thing in the beginning, and Kayama had felt guilty when she’d realized that he remembered her but she could barely recall him. “I’ll speak with him when he wakes up. If he feels like this is too much, we’ll figure something out.”

“You don’t think he will though,” Toshinori said.

“Something happened to him to drive him from dreaming of becoming a hero to becoming a villain,” Aizawa replied. “Maybe a lot of somethings. I think he’s more determined to prove his future self wrong and somehow change it than we are.” He looked up to the second floor of the building, his eyes roving over the shattered windows. “Did you see someone that was willing to give up on the screens?”

Toshinori didn’t need to respond for Aizawa to know the answer. It was a resounding no . Despite his either avoidance and hesitancy to use his quirk, Ryouta had not been giving up. Even when he ran away, it had been a part of his strategy to win. That was what Aizawa had seen: that Ryouta was someone was willing to go the distance and throw everything he had into coming out on top.

So what had happened?

Or had he simply decided to carve another path there?

For some people, the idea of becoming a villain was rock bottom. Judging from the way Ryouta spoke of them, he certainly considered that to be the truth now. However, when Aizawa had seen him as Dabi, he’d been one of the most powerful and feared members of the League of Villains. He’d become every bit as notorious as he could have as a hero, just in a different way. It was unsettling how parallel those two paths could be at times and, in a way, Ryouta was on both of them.

*

It had been three days since he’d given Dabi the go-ahead to destroy the support equipment warehouse and they hadn’t heard a word from him since.

Shigaraki was more than irritated. Dabi had proven himself to be a reliable member of the League of Villains, but he had a mind of his own as well and went off the rail at times. He’d gotten better at working on a team (something that all villains could stand to work on), but he still had that loner mentality too. Powerful as he was, he could be as unpredictable as his quirk and had been from the start.

It was times like these when he cursed the fact that Dabi was so damn hard-headed. Shigaraki knew that he should’ve sent someone else with him, but Dabi had been adamant that he could do it on his own. “Why send two people to do a one-man job?” he’d pointed out in that bored drawl of his. It was like he only had two modes: zero or one-hundred. They’d met each other at the latter and hadn’t killed each other yet. Back then, Kurogiri had considered that enough of a success to vouch for him.

Originally, the plan had been to send Twice and Spinner to take care of the warehouse, but Dabi had been the one to come up with the idea to strike the heroes in the support department and had wanted to be the one to go. Considering the nature of his quirk, he had a more personal stake in it. He knew what it was like to need the technology that helped a hero.

Getting that bit of information out of Dabi had been almost as painful as getting shot at the USJ and Shigaraki didn’t believe that he had been fully honest. Only Giran, who had come up with the Vanguard’s villain costumes and equipment, knew the truth, but Shigaraki hadn’t attempted to pry it out of him. Dabi hiding things from them was nothing new, seeing as how that wasn’t even his real name. He’d tell them when he was ready.

In the end, Shigaraki had agreed and sent Dabi to destroy the warehouse. He’d left with an almost gleeful grin on his face, waving and telling them to keep a close eye on the news. It would be flashy; that was for sure. With those blue flames, he had begun to leave his mark everywhere. It was good for the League. His quirk was much more destructive than most people’s and he could get the job done faster.

So where the hell was that asshole?

“Has anyone heard from Dabi recently?” Shigaraki demanded as he walked into the room.

Toga was sitting upside down on the couch, her knees hooked over the back while her head dangled where her feet should’ve been. “I sent him a bunch of messages and he never responded.” She casually twirled a knife in her fingers and began to straighten out her nails with it. “That’s not like him! He usually at least tells me to shut up.”

“Actually, I checked yesterday and he left his phone in his room,” Mr. Compress pointed out from his seat. “You know we’re not to take them on missions.”

Huffing to herself, Toga lifted her legs and slid them to the side, rotating herself back upright. “What if I want to get someone’s number?” she mumbled to herself, as if the fact that she would most likely be trying to attack or kill whoever she came across during a mission didn’t put a damper on her getting a person’s number.

“So he hasn’t been back since he attacked the warehouse,” Shigaraki said.

“Which we know he did,” Spinner added. “We saw it on the news. Man, those flames were massive!”

“There was no mention of his capture,” Mr. Compress supplied, thoughtfully stroking his chin. His favored mask was resting next to him at the moment. He’d gotten more comfortable not wearing them all the time. “They would have said something if he had been. Dabi is of some notoriety.”

And heroes couldn’t help but brag about their accomplishments. If Dabi had been captured, they would’ve blasted it all over the news in an attempt to shake up the League.

“Should we look for him?” Twice asked emphatically. “What if he abandoned us?”

Shigaraki shook his head. “He wouldn’t just leave.”

That was one thing that he was certain about. As much as they sometimes got close to coming to blows with each other and despite how aloof he came off, Shigaraki trusted Dabi. He was committed to their cause. He had his own reasons, of course, not that he would tell them beyond wanting to continue Stain’s legacy. He’d grown into his position in the League though. Made it his own. He wouldn’t fulfill his mission, one that he had come up with and volunteered for, and then just vanish off the face of the earth. There were things that he still had to do -- things he wanted to accomplish and destroy.

Dabi wouldn’t just leave them.

But his disappearance brought up a lot of questions and none of them were good. They needed to get to the bottom of this. Dabi was an important member of the League. He had to be found.

@mistystarshine​ notes: So we went with the option that went best with the narrative flow, but I will admit, there was serious discussion of putting the end scene at the top just so it would come off as: “Where the hell is Dabi?” *Gilligan cut to Ryouta being blasted out of a window*

I loved working on this chapter, but don’t have much to say about it because all of my good insightful stuff is spoiler-ridden or might make things too obvious. I’ll get wordy later on though! Promise! To make it up to you, here are some of my highlight comments from when we were editing the chapter:

- "tfw shigaraki fucking tomura shows more genuine care for his people than endeavor does for his children" - When All Might groans about Ryouta getting knocked unconscious twice in less than a week: *insert izuku flashback montage*

[abigailswager]

If This Doesn't Scare You, Nothing Will

New Post has been published on https://tradegold.today/if-this-doesnt-scare-you-nothing-will/

If This Doesn't Scare You, Nothing Will

Source: Clive Maund for Streetwise Reports   10/09/2018

Technical analyst Clive Maund charts the markets and explains why he finds that the U.S. stock market is at an unprecedented overbought extreme.

There are times in life when being alarmed is actually a healthy defense mechanism that gives you an advantage over the many for whom “ignorance is bliss.” This is one of those times.

The U.S. stock market is now at a dangerous unprecedented overbought extreme, as the charts that we will look at in this update make abundantly clear, after years of being wafted higher by a combination of QE, ZIRP and stock buybacks, and latterly Trump’s tax bonanza, which has kept the party going by making windfall cash available for still more buybacks. However, with QE having already reversed into QT (Quantitative Tightening) and rates rising, the tide has already turned, and the vice is closing inexorably on the market, which will soon buckle and collapse back into an overdue and very necessary bear market that will serve to at least partially flush out the monstrous excesses of the past decade, before they come riding to the rescue with QE4. The magnitude of these excesses means that the bear market is likely to be anything but orderly, and it should be characterized by at least one big crash phase.

With respect to the timing of the onset of this bear market, which will likely start with a crash phase, because of the continually increasing pressure being exerted by QT and rising rates, we can expect the Republican party to pull out all the stops to prevent it caving in before the mid-term elections in just under a month, since a strong economy is one of the central planks of their campaign. What may happen is that we see wild volatility around the time of the election and then, regardless of the outcome, the market goes down soon after. However, we should keep in mind that October has long been notorious as the month when stock market crashes are most likely to occur, and the Deep State, which controls the Democratic Party, would love nothing better than to bring the market crashing down ahead of the mid-terms in an effort to discredit Trump and the Republicans and reduce their share of the vote.

The chief purpose of this article is to make it crystal clear to you, via the following charts, that the market is at a wild extreme and will soon tip into a savage bear market that will wipe out a lot of leveraged traders, so that you will not only be ready to take steps to protect yourselves, but for good measure position yourselves to turn this situation to your advantage.

We start by looking at a very long-term chart for the S&P500 index that goes all the way back to 1980, which gives us a Big Picture perspective. On this chart you need a magnifying glass to see the 1987 crash, which seems funny now, because it was big deal at the time. You can also see the glorious Clinton years bull market of the 1990s, which ended with the dotcom bust and then Greeny (Alan Greenspan) manning the monetary pumps to get things going again, which led to the property boom and subprime crisis that triggered the 2008 meltdown. After that all pretense at fiscal restraint vanished and we entered the era of full bore QE coupled with about 10 years of ZIRP, which caused debt to skyrocket and enabled massive leveraged speculation, which is what has caused the market to ascend to giddying heights, as stock buybacks rose to unsustainable extremes, kept going more recently by Trump’s tax cut.

So now what? Having created a situation of wild unsustainable extremes, the Fed has taken its metaphorical foot off the gas pedal and planted it on the brake, slowly at first to avoid rattling the markets, but slowly pressing down harder on it, as it desperately seeks to create “wiggle room” for the next crisis by raising rates and scale back its huge Treasury book. This is the cause of the liquidity drain, or Quantitative Tightening (QT). The “little guy” is, of course, blissfully unaware of all this as he gets sucked into the market at the top, believing all the hype about the “strong economy.” Actually the economy is strong; it’s the underpinnings that are anything but strong, like the continually expanding debt, and it won’t be Trump that is responsible when the whole thing comes crashing down—the causes of this impending crisis go back to way before Trump showed up on the scene. A massive liquidity drain is going on behind the scenes that will starve the market of funds to continue ascending and cause stock buybacks to shrivel as rates continue to rise—Jay Powell, the Fed Chair, has made it plain that he plans to carry on regardless with this policy, at least until it really hits the fan. Once players fully comprehend what is going on and that “the jig is up,” there will be a wild stampede for the exits, which is why the market is expected to not just drop, but crash—actually it would be odd, given the situation that is evolving, if it didn’t.

Now we will look at more charts which furnish additional evidence regarding the wild extremes that we are now at.

We start with the Bear Market Probability Chart, which is a very useful chart, because even a moron can understand it. The fact that a reading is at a high level does not necessarily mean that a bear market is imminent, but the higher the reading gets the more likely it is, and as we can see on this chart, it is now at readings that exceed by a significant margin those ahead of the 2000 top and the 2007 top, making the onset of a major bear market very likely soon.

Click on chart to pop-up a larger, clearer version. Chart courtesy of sentimentrader.com

Next we look at the NYSE Available Cash chart which shows the leverage being employed in the market via margin debt. As we can see it is now at unprecedented frightening extremes, which way exceed anything that has ever been seen. So when this thing really goes down there is going to be a veritable tsunami of margin calls going out—this by itself signal that a brutal crash is not far over the horizon.

Click on chart to pop-up a larger, clearer version. Chart courtesy of sentimentrader.com

Finally, it is worth taking a sideways look at what is going on in some other markets, to see if they corroborate the signs of an imminent reversal in U.S. markets that we are seeing. The pan-European STOXX600 index chart certainly does, as it shows that this index looks like it about to start dropping away from a giant completed Triple Top. Meanwhile, the Japan Nikkei index has staged a partial recovery in recent years, but is still a long way from making it back to its 1980 bubble highs, and since it is clearly moving to some degree in lockstep with U.S. markets, when they go down it goes down, which is hardly surprising as the intensifying credit crisis that started with Emerging Markets is, of course, a global phenomenon.

As we head into this crisis we will, of course, be looking at ways to protect ourselves, and more than that, to capitalize on the impending mayhem. In addition, in a separate article now in preparation, we will be attempting to assess the likely impact on the already heavily beaten down precious metals sector.

Clive Maund has been president of www.clivemaund.com, a successful resource sector website, since its inception in 2003. He has 30 years’ experience in technical analysis and has worked for banks, commodity brokers and stockbrokers in the City of London. He holds a Diploma in Technical Analysis from the UK Society of Technical Analysts.

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Disclosure: 1) Statements and opinions expressed are the opinions of Clive Maund and not of Streetwise Reports or its officers. Clive Maund is wholly responsible for the validity of the statements. Streetwise Reports was not involved in the content preparation. Clive Maund was not paid by Streetwise Reports LLC for this article. Streetwise Reports was not paid by the author to publish or syndicate this article. 2) This article does not constitute investment advice. Each reader is encouraged to consult with his or her individual financial professional and any action a reader takes as a result of information presented here is his or her own responsibility. By opening this page, each reader accepts and agrees to Streetwise Reports’ terms of use and full legal disclaimer. This article is not a solicitation for investment. Streetwise Reports does not render general or specific investment advice and the information on Streetwise Reports should not be considered a recommendation to buy or sell any security. Streetwise Reports does not endorse or recommend the business, products, services or securities of any company mentioned on Streetwise Reports. 3) From time to time, Streetwise Reports LLC and its directors, officers, employees or members of their families, as well as persons interviewed for articles and interviews on the site, may have a long or short position in securities mentioned. Directors, officers, employees or members of their immediate families are prohibited from making purchases and/or sales of those securities in the open market or otherwise from the time of the interview or the decision to write an article, until one week after the publication of the interview or article.

Charts provided by the author.

CliveMaund.com Disclosure: The above represents the opinion and analysis of Mr Maund, based on data available to him, at the time of writing. Mr. Maund’s opinions are his own, and are not a recommendation or an offer to buy or sell securities. Mr. Maund is an independent analyst who receives no compensation of any kind from any groups, individuals or corporations mentioned in his reports. As trading and investing in any financial markets may involve serious risk of loss, Mr. Maund recommends that you consult with a qualified investment advisor, one licensed by appropriate regulatory agencies in your legal jurisdiction and do your own due diligence and research when making any kind of a transaction with financial ramifications. Although a qualified and experienced stock market analyst, Clive Maund is not a Registered Securities Advisor. Therefore Mr. Maund’s opinions on the market and stocks can only be construed as a solicitation to buy and sell securities when they are subject to the prior approval and endorsement of a Registered Securities Advisor operating in accordance with the appropriate regulations in your area of jurisdiction.