#Just shoot me just kill me do it take the shot
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PLEASE, EAT. | LAIOS TOUDEN
synopsis ━━ after you've been bitten by a sea serpent, you know the consequences are either death or the possibility of turning into one yourself. thankfully for you, laios touden is the devourer of all things monster and he is dedicated to getting that venom out of you. (laios x f!reader.)
content warnings ━━ sex pollen-adjacent, cunnilingus + fingering, praise, breath play (kinda, if you squint), semi-public sex, multiple orgasms. nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni).
word count ━━ 3k
song inspiration ━━ too sweet, hozier / more than friends, isabel larosa
author's note ━━ this is the first time I've ever written and posted an x reader one-shot on here, so please be gentle with me lol. I usually only write x oc fics bc I'm a yapper and I love creating characters. but alas...I was perusing the laios x reader tag and wanted to read something with this plot, couldn't find it, so I figured I'd just do it myself 🫡
This was definitely one of the worst situations you’d been in.
You had joined Laios’ adventuring party just a few months prior. They had found you on floor 3 of the dungeon, shivering and mourning the loss of your father. His body, dead in your arms, and beside him lay the lifeless body of a ghoul you had killed. At first, the party’s leader, Laios Touden, had only been interested in taking the ghoul's body so they could use its bones for utensils after the flesh rotted off. But it was Marcille who noticed the tears in your eyes, how you trembled from the cold, and suggested they take you in. You almost declined, not wanting to leave your father’s body, but knowing he’d soon turned into a monster left you with only one option. Your father had been with you for the past twenty-five years of your life, and now, you were leaving his dead body in a dungeon to travel with a group of strangers.
You soon came to appreciate your new party, though, and you felt your father’s spirit within each of them. Marcille had his kindness, Chilchuck had a comparable wit, Senshi was gifted with excellent cooking skills, and Laios … well, you were still figuring that out. And surprisingly, it was Laios who you began to connect with the most. His knowledge of monsters was unmatched, and he had a passion for learning how to prepare them while they traveled deeper into the dungeon. He was overtly blunt, much like you, and possessed similar advanced fighting skills due to both your fathers' teachings.
Sometimes … sometimes though, you found yourself staring at him more than you should have. His face was abnormally perfect, as if he’d been carved by an artist. His tousled ash-blonde hair reminded you of a lion, and his eyes … sometimes you could’ve sworn they were made out of gold, shimmering like molten lava. Each time you thought this way, you smacked yourself when no one else was looking. I mean, Laios was your friend, your party leader. Having a crush, especially in circumstances like these, was unethical. You had always been focused on one thing: helping your party and making it out of this dungeon alive, for your father. You wouldn’t let a little crush deter you.
Everything had been all well and good until today, when you and your party reached the end of floor 4. When Laios had struggled to fight off a sea serpent, you joined him in the lukewarm water, using your crossbow to shoot the creature in the head. Finally, Laios was able to step in to slice the serpent’s head off … but not before the creature could snap its jaw, tearing one fang down your hip. You jumped back, screaming as you felt the venom seep into you instantly. Some said sea serpent venom would kill you immediately, others said it turned you into one of them, cursing you to haunt the waters with them as penance. As soon as the head was cut, Laios carried you away from the water, and the last thing you heard was Marcille cursing him out before you were rendered unconscious.
You were woken up – hours, maybe days later – by a drop of water hitting your face every few seconds. Lifting your head from the makeshift tunic pillow, you took in your surroundings. You were at the entrance of floor 5, in a damp corner of cobblestone, while water dripped down onto the floor every so often. There was a moist bandage covering your side where the serpent’s fang had cut into you, part of your tunic ripped to shreds. Hunger boiled in your stomach, making you groan and rub your head. Laios was sitting just a few feet away, a small fire in front of him to keep warm. Marcille had to have helped him with that; there was no way to craft a fire in an area this damp.
“Am I dead?” You asked softly.
Laios immediately turned in your direction, his mouth lifting in a smile. “Of course not.”
Your stomach did flip flops as you took in his smile, hunger consuming you. You needed something to eat – bad. Your body felt hot and sweaty, and you wondered if it was just from the humidity, even though Laios didn’t look affected. Sitting up, you informed him, “Well, that was one of two options my father said would happen from a sea serpent bite. Which means …” You lifted the bandage up, noticing the gills that started to form on the healing wound. A turquoise hue surrounded the gills, almost like a bruise. “Oh, fuck,” you muttered.
Laios stood, looming over you while asking, “What’s wrong?”
“It’s the other option,” you replied, too hungry to cry. “The bite is –”
“– Turning you into a sea serpent,” Laios finished. “Honestly, I thought that was just a myth. But when the bite didn’t kill you …” His mouth twitched, tongue darting out to wet the corners of his lips. “We have to suck the venom out. That has to stop the mutation.”
Your head snapped up. “Huh?”
But as soon as your eyes met his, you started to wondered if what you were experiencing was hunger after all. Perhaps … a different kind of hunger. Laios stared down at you, the sparkling gold replaced by a dark hazel. It was just you two in this little corner of the dungeon, but you suddenly felt exposed, so naked, under his gaze. Your body was hot all over, sweat sticking to uncomfortable places. And your thighs … a burning need emerged between them, soaking the thin linen of your undergarments. This had to be a symptom of the bite, but it suddenly didn’t matter anymore. Your worry had been replaced by an ache that only he could fix.
No – absolutely not. You couldn’t. You shouldn’t. You were turning into a sea serpent.
But the need between your legs still throbbed.
“It’s like when a snake bites you on the surface,” Laios said, crouching down to your eye level. His closeness made your heart rate pick up. You realized then that he had shed his armor, kneeling in front of you in just his gambeson, which clung to his muscles and wide frame. “A sea serpent is part snake. Sucking out the venom should stop the mutation. You’ll probably experience symptoms from the bite for a few more hours, but they’ll stop eventually.”
He started to peel back the bandage, taking a look at the gills forming on your hip when you gripped his wrist. Immediately, his skin burned, making you even more hot. You ripped your hand away from him, and with sweat trickling down the side of your face, you said, “Don’t you think this is … weird? Maybe Marcille should do it.”
“Marcille and the others just went back to another part of the level to find dinner. They won’t return for an hour, at least. This can’t wait.” He inspected the turquoise gills with concern, before his eyes snapped back to yours, noticing the way your black pupils filled almost the entire iris. “Do you not trust me?”
“Of course, I trust you. It’s just …” What exactly was the reason again? Oh, yes, it was pulsating hunger dripping between your legs from the bite, and you were terrified how you’d react the second his lips wrapped around your wound. The symptoms would just get worse. But he was right – this was the only way. Fuck, this had to be the most embarrassing thing you’d ever experienced.
“Fine,” you finally relented, lying back down on the cobblestone. You did your best to get comfortable, but the makeshift pillow hardly provided much cushion between you and the floor. “What should I do?”
“Nothing, just lay back and let me take care of it.” Laios lifted your tunic a smidge, and just the tenor of his voice made your ache even worse. “We’re just gonna … get this out of the way. And then …” His fingers hooked on the waistband of your pants, and you immediately clutched his collar. If you touched his skin again, you were sure to moan.
Laios looked from where your hand was gripping him and back to your eyes. “Your pants need to be off so I can have better access to the mutation. It’s on your hip.” You swallowed hard, knowing he was right, and your hand started to slip off his collar. “We’re friends, right?” He asked.
You nodded weakly.
“Good,” he smiled again, and you struggled to hold back a plea for him to touch you. He pulled down your pants, tossing them to the side. For a moment, he paused, taking in your soaked underwear and running his fingers over the mutation on your hip. He licked his lips again, and then said in a rather blunt tone, “You’re so –”
“Don’t say it,” you cut in, snapping your eyes shut to prevent further embarrassment. Though you had never minded Laois’ occasional lack of social cues, this was one of those moments you needed anything but. “Just get the venom out.”
Laios tugged your underwear down a little to see if the mutation had spread. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he informed you, lowering his head to your hip. “I’ve read that these bites can have a multitude of internal symptoms. Nightmares ... sweating … fever …” He ran his tongue over the gills, making your breath hitch instantly. “… And especially, arousal. Neat, huh?” He chuckled, and just his warm breath on the gills made you even more wet. “Don’t worry, I got you,” he assured before finally wrapping his mouth on the wound.
Your body burned even hotter than before as soon as his lips touched your skin. He sucked the venom out of you, spitting out blue globs every other second. His hands gripped your side, digging into your flesh and leaving crescent shapes from his nails. As you felt the gills start to close up, you couldn’t help but moan and arch into nothing. This felt better than any time you masturbated … any time you imagined your party leader above you … Fuck, who would’ve thought sucking sea serpent venom out of you would feel this good? Thank the gods the rest of their party was off catching dinner. You couldn’t deal with them possibly hearing this.
It surprised you when your orgasm flooded through you like a crashing wave. As Laios finished sucking out the last of the venom and the mutation closed, your arousal came to a definite peak and you let out a whine. You grabbed his arm, cumming from absolutely no stimulation.
Laios didn’t seem to mind though. In fact, he was mostly preoccupied with inspecting the area. You opened your eyes, your cheeks tinged pink, and saw the globs of venom to the left dissipate to nothing but water. You pinched the bridge of your nose, “I’m sorry, I –”
“The mutation closed. I was right!” Laios looked down at you, a big grin covering his face. “How do you feel?”
“Well, I definitely don’t feel a second set of lungs on my hip anymore.” You lifted your hand when you noticed a trickle of blue staining his lip, wiping it away with your thumb. “But I … my body is still …” The ache inside you had simmered slightly, but it was still there, lingering underneath the surface.
This was genuinely humiliating. Maybe you should’ve just decided to turn into a sea serpent after all.
Laios grabbed your wrist before you could pull away from his face. He leaned into your palm, running his long nose down to your inner wrist. “Your skin is so warm. I can still smell how aroused you are from the serpent bite.” His eyes burned into yours, keeping your hand close to his face. “I can help. Do you need another release?”
Your cheeks got even more red when he acknowledged your orgasm. Shaking your head, you said, “I couldn’t ask you to do that. I can just –”
“I’d be honored to,” he replied, quite gruffly and persistent. His fingers tugged your underwear down with precision and ease, despite the damp fabric clinging to you. He spread your legs wide and placed them on his shoulders. Lowering himself down, he inhaled the scent of your climax and hooked his arms around your inner thighs. He smiled up at you – your pretty face red with embarrassment – all dopey-eyed and grateful. “You lot like to call me the devourer of monsters. Perhaps I should devour the last bit of monster out of you.”
He inhaled again, groaning like he typically did when he was hungry. His hot breath against your achingly wet pussy made you whimper with desperation. “You smell so good down here,” he whispered. “I’d wager you taste even better.”
You gasped as soon as he dove between your legs, licking a stripe through your folds, tasting your recent orgasm. He flicked his tongue over your clit before sucking on it with feverish excitement. Slick gathered on his tongue and he whined, needing more. So much more. You were the most delicious meal he’d ever tasted. Better than any monster, better than anything on the surface.
“So good,” he muttered into your pussy, lapping against your clit, doing anything that would get him more of your arousal. “You taste so, so good.”
You whimpered out his name and attempted to close your legs, but he held them opened with all his strength. His arms wrapped around your thighs went tight, bruising the sensitive flesh. Your jaw went slack while your own hands scrambled for purchase, eventually landing in his cropped hair. You tugged, hips bucking against his face, making him groan even more. This allowed him to hold your hips a little higher, and his tongue finally dipped into your leaking entrance. You heard him grunt the second he plunged his tongue deeper, his nose nuzzling your clit.
He devoured you like a starved man. He devoured you like you were a boiled scorpion, or roast basilisk, or – even better – like sweet, delicious homemade cheesecake.
“Laios,” you whined, feeling your fever dissolve with each lap of his tongue. “Laios, it’s … fuck – it’s okay, I feel –”
“Need more,” he muttered, his voice low and laced with need. He was practically humping the stone floor as he buried his tongue as far as it could go inside you. Your hips couldn’t stop bucking forward, riding his face as you felt your orgasm building at the base of your stomach. Laios was completely transfixed. He wanted to be here, nestled between your thighs, for every meal. He’d take you away from the rest of the group before dinner, lapping away to the sounds of your pleas and whimpers, so help him gods. He’d do this every day, every night, whenever you wanted, for as long as he was alive. Fuck monsters. He could survive off the taste of you for the rest of his life.
Slipping his tongue out of your hole, he went back to sucking on your throbbing clit and feeling your legs start to tremble. You had to be close to another release, and he was desperate to taste it. He paid all his attention on your clit, snaking one hand up and sinking two fingers knuckle-deep into your entrance in tandem. “Fuck,” you moaned, tugging on his hair once again, “fuck – gods, Laios. I – I’m s-so close –”
“Please,” he begged, smearing your slick all over his mouth. “Please, you’re so good. Need to see how you taste when you release on my tongue.” His own hips continued to buck against the floor.
You choked on a cry when you finally came all over his tongue. He groaned, loud and drawn out, when he finally got a taste of your sweet climax, knowing that it was him that brought you to this point. The orgasm felt long, like the ocean bringing you in and out, and your whole body trembled. He continued lapping at your clit as it pulsed under his tongue, his fingers curling inside you through your orgasm. When you finally breathed out and started to come down from the high of it all, Laios stayed between your thighs, allowing his tongue to gently swirl your clit. Maybe if he continued, he could taste a little more of you …
You found your voice, hoarse from overstimulation. “Laios, please, you have to stop,” you begged, yanking his head up from between your legs. His mouth was covered in your slick, and then he was giving you that dopey expression again, making your heart clench. Your body was no longer hot and sweaty. Laios had completely cured you of the sea serpent bite with that expert mouth of his. He unwound his arms from your thighs, bringing his fingers that were still covered with your wetness to his mouth, tasting the last of your orgasm. You watched him, eyes wide and cheeks blushing, until he was looking at you again with those golden doe eyes.
“That was amazing,” he said, like he was in a haze. When your eyes flickered down, you realized he was hard in his pants, but it wasn’t like he even noticed himself with the way he was staring at you. “We should do that again sometime.”
He stood up, and you scrambled to pull your clothes back on before the group came back. You stammered, “It’s okay, uh – we don’t have to. Especially if you don’t want to. We could just –”
“I want to,” he cut in, a determined look in his eyes. “What are friends for, right?”
#my fics#fic: please eat#laios touden x reader#laios touden smut#laios x reader#laios touden x reader smut#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#dungeon meshi x reader#dunmeshi#laios touden#laios dungeon meshi#one shot: please eat
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How Marvel Characters Would React to you Wanting to Borrow Their ⚔️✨ Weapons✨⚔️
Summary: How they'd react to you asking to use their weapons/stuff! These are really fun to write ngl- nothin’ but good vibes and funny scenarios!!!
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Tony
“Just let me borrow the worst suit you got for one damn minute!” You’d ask for the millionth time. Tony would sigh and stare at you for a few seconds. Then he’d start walking away, you following behind.
“Five minutes. That’s all you get.” He’d say in a sassy voice with a playful undertone while walking to where he kept his suits, you following like an eager pet.
He’d actually be enjoying this. He’d let you fly it around the Tower for a while before putting it back because you’d almost shot him with the repulsers accidentally. Still, he’d be almost certain that you’d most likely ask again cuz you’d really liked it. He liked your begging, it was funny to him.
After that, you’d probably go get some food and chat away.
Steve
”Why do you want to use the shield?” Steve would ask, hands on his hips, answering your incessant request. You’d shrug.
“It looks fun.” You’d say, staring up at him. He shakes his head and hands you the shield. Something probably would end up breaking cuz you didn’t know how the physics of it worked. “Oops…” He’d be a lil mad after that.
But even he’d get over it quick and think that this whole thing was a little funny. That’s Steve, he’s too damn nice!
After that, you’d probably hang out with Steve for a few hours and do random fun shit.
“LANGUAGE!” -Steve, probably.
Thor
”Well, sure, you may use it, my Midgardian friend, if you can even lift Mjolnir.” He’d say, placing the hammer on the ground. You’d try to lift it but of course, to no avail.
Then fast forward to about five minutes later, Thor would be running around the Avengers Tower laughing madly, carrying you in a piggyback ride while you grip the thick forearm that held Mjolnir, pretending to wave it around and fight while Thor was the one that actually waved it around from under your grip.
Then you’d would probably goof around more and watch one or two comedy movies together.
Natasha
”Shockers or batons? Guns…? Choose one, I use a lotta weapons and you already got guns so… what do you want?” She’d ask, showing you her enormous array of weapons. You’d probably use the batons because the shockers required actually hurting someone. You’d swing the batons around, accidentally throwing one and almost hitting Nat.
“Sorry-” You’d say, despite knowing that she would’ve probably dodged it anyway.
You’d probably mess around with each other’s weapons for a while after that. Then go and get some coffee together and just hang. Nat’s fun like that when she’s not busy.
Bruce/Hulk
”You want what- why would I do that?!” He’d ask in shock after you’d asked him to intentionally turn into the Hulk and demolish a random old building you found.
“Uh, cuz I’m not hulk? And if I was I’d go and break the building? We only got one hulk, so go do it!” You’d say while poking him and obviously he’d refuse because it’s not a code green and because he’s… well, Bruce. (Nervous boi)
So you’d deviously wait until the next mission and when there was a code green and the mission was won, you’d go and ask Hulk himself and he’d smile and smash it in one second, you clapping loudly, covered in building dust.
Then you’d probably happily chat and talk to Hulk for a few minutes, then taunt Bruce for a few after he comes back.
Clint
”Alright, but if you accidentally kill yourself, it ain’t my fault.” He’d say half-jokingly, chuckling while handing you his bow and arrows, positioning your arms in the right places before letting you shoot at a makeshift target. Your aim would suck so bad compared to Clint and he’d laugh about it.
Then you’d both probably chill for a few minutes together, taking about random stuff, Clint’s fun and random like that, very chill guy.
Also, the both of you would decide not to mention to the others that you accidentally shot very near Steve’s head as he walked around…
Loki
”But why my daggers? Don’t your other Avenging companions own daggers? Ask them for some.” Loki’d say while walking along with you, hands behind his back.
“It’s not the same, man!” You’d say. Loki would do that sassy brow raise but with a little sigh, he’d pull out his daggers seemingly out of thin air with his magic. He’d fold his arms. “Make it quick.” He’d say and you’d just stand there holding his daggers and posing with them cuz why not.
Fast forward to one minute from now as Thor watches Loki chase you around, confused expression on his face. You’d very nearly cut Loki’s face.
A few hours after whatever happened next, you’d all hang out together, Thor probably tags along there somewhere.
Bucky
”Excuse me, what? You want my… my arm? Why the hell-?” He’d say with a super confused and almost slightly offended expression on his face.
“That’s not rude to ask, is it? I just wanna see it!” You’d say with a smile and a shrug. He’d eventually let you take it for one minute and you’d start waving it around and lightly slapping Bucky with it. He’d be really confused and a little grumpy like he always is, but secretly having a lil bit of fun. This was a really stupid experience for him.
“Why are you slapping yourself, Sarge?!”
After that, you’d probably go hang out, you liked hanging with Bucky, he always seemed lonely. And you liked being around him.
Sam
”Nope, hell, no! Never gonna happen, pal.” He’d say, arms crossed. He was weirdly protective of his wings. After some convincing, persuading, bribing, and pleading, he’d let you take them out for a spin.
“Fine. But if anything happens to them, it’s your ass, you hear me?” He said in a sassy, half-joking voice. You’d fly them for a few minutes and he’d laugh his ass off because you’d look hilarious getting the hang of them.
Then he’d take them back quickly after a slightly rough landing that could’ve hurt his precious wings. (It couldn’t)
After, you’d probably get some fast food and chat away, Sam was really fun to be around.
Peter
“But you don’t have superpowers, your arms could rip off or something.” He’d reply with his dorky worried voice at the mention of swinging. He was right. Guess you couldn’t do it…
Fast forward to a few minutes later, you grabbing on him while he swung you around, you whooping loudly.
Y’all would end up eating some pizza on some corner of a building or on top of some billboard, chatting and laughing.
Yeah and that’s it! Tell me if you likey likey!!! Request more shit if you want, but bear in mind, I’m not active a lot.
#marvel mcu#marvel#marvel fanfiction#my fic#marvel x reader#marvel fic#tony stark#iron man#steve rogers#captain america#thor#thor odinson#natasha romanoff#black widow#bruce banner#hulk#clint barton#mcu hawkeye#mcu loki#loki odinson#loki#bucky#bucky barnes#winter soldier#mcu bucky barnes#mcu#cute#funny#x yn#gender neutral reader
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Could I request an awkward, shy reader who is a frequent highlight of a popular bar for absolutely killing it on karaoke with popular love songs (think Careless Whisper and the like) and one day catches the eye of an overlord (Rosie, Velvette)
Good evening my dear! I went with Velvette because I haven't done her in a while!
I did twink the request a little as I don't think "You give love a bad name" by Bon Jovi counts as a popular love song but it fits
You give love a bad name
Velvette x reader
Warnings!
Mild power inbalanc
Original version of the song here
And a cover I really like here
You weren't the most confident person, not in life, nor in death, you were a bystander, the type of person to stand frozen instead of doing something in an emergency.
Maybe that's what landed you below but that didn't matter.
You worked in the Vee's tower specifically for Velvette you were one of the people in the back making sure everything ran smoothly, that this dress was properly dry cleaned, some jackets were hung properly and delivered etc etc, you were lucky enough to not have to talk with your boss just her assistant.
you were unnoticed and you liked it that way.
However you tended to turn into a different person, more confident when on stage, you worked nights singing at a up and coming bar of sorts, it didn't feel much like a job you practically got to sing your little heart out AND got paid for it, it was a win-win!
Typically you'd sing more cheesy songs but you felt like changing things up a little, deciding to pull out a song you enjoyed while alive,
You walked out onto the dark stage waiting for your que, typically you'd be wearing cardigans, professional suits and the like but you decided to forgo that for a striking red and pink two piece for your performance.
With your hands gripping the microphone you tapped your foot on the stage.
The spotlight shined down on you, conveniently in a heart shape.
"Shot through the heart and you're to blame,"
Velvette sat in a booth scrolling on her phone as per usual, some drink in her free hand, she had come with a couple other people but they were nowhere to be seen.
"Darlin', you give love a bad name,"
Guitar played out as you looked around the room, not catching your boss in the corner,
Velvette decided to spare a glance over just to see what act was going on, you caught her attention with your attire.
You looked nice in those clothes.
"An angel's smile is what you sell, you promised me Heaven, then put me through Hell,"
You strutted down the stage reaching the stand that was meant to hold the microphone,
Velvette put her phone down, eyes locked on you
"Chains of love got a hold on me,"
You mimicked chains holding you, putting your wrists together like they were put together.
"When passion's a prison, you can't break free,"
You were somewhat familiar, where did she recognize you from? A video online? Were you one of Val's whores? Probably not you didn't look like how they did.
"Whoa-oh-oh, you're a loaded gun, yeah,"
You strutted around the stage completely owning it, nothing could take this from you.
"Whoa-oh-oh, there's nowhere to run, No one can save me, the damage is done,"
You did a few movements with your arm, just for dramatic effect, Velvette's eyes widened ever so slightly as she finally realized who you were,
That awkward little nobody that handled preparing the clothes for the shoots, shows and whatever else.
"Shot through the heart and you're to blame,"
Who would've thought you'd be doing this in your free time?
"You give love a bad name, I play my part and you play your game,"
And who would've thought that you could look so amazing? Maybe she should just scoop you right up to model for her.
"You give love a bad name,"
A smirk appeared on Velvette's face, she swung one leg over the other as she leaned back in the booth to get a better look at you.
"Hey, you give love,"
You gave a wink to the crowd.
"A bad name,"
Sinners and hellborn alike swooned.
"Paint your smile on your lips,"
You could give Verosika Mayday a run for her money.
"Blood red nails on your fingertips,"
You moved back to the microphone stand.
"A schoolboy's dream, you act so shy,"
You held the microphone stand in one hand the mic in the other,
"Your very first kiss was your first kiss goodbye,'"
Your eyes scanned around the club, widening at the sight of Velvette,
"Whoa-oh-oh, you're a loaded gun,"
Well it wasn't like she recognized you, you doubted that she even knew who you were or that you worked for her.
"Whoa-oh-oh, there's nowhere to run,"
You'd scram when the show was over, maybe grab a drink beforehand though, you would need a drink.
"No one can save me, the damage is done,"
Velvette kept her eyes on you, unable to look away even as her phone blew up with notifications.
"Shot through the heart and you're to blame,"
Velvette decided for whatever reason to get up from her seat and walk up to the stage, maybe it was to get a better look, maybe it was to get you to look at her.
"You give love a bad name, I play my part and you play your game,"
You briefly locked eyes with her as you sang watching her come closer to the stage,
"You give love a bad name,"
You looked away, twirling the microphone stand before discarding it by walking away.
"You give love, oh,"
Maybe it was because you were feeling slightly woozy from the thrill of singing, maybe it was because you falsely thought she didn't know who you were, that she wouldn't recognize you
Maybe it was because the gal that ran the joint suggested you should do more fan servicey things while singing like booping someone on the nose if they had one.
"Oh,"
You did a walk around the stage before stopping at Velvette,
"Shot through the heart and you're to blame,"
Eyes locked with hers
"You give love a bad name,"
You reached a hand out placing your finger underneath her chin and tilted her head to look up at you.
"I play my part and you play your game,"
This was not how Velvette was expecting her night to go,
"You give love a bad name,"
But she didn't mind it, her stunned expression turned into a confident smirk,
"Shot through the heart and you're to blame,"
You leaned in slowly,
"You give love a bad name,"
Your eyes flicked down to her lips
"I play my part and you play your game,"
You removed your finger from her chin and stood back up, retaining eye contact as you watched her get everso flustered or maybe stunned was a better word.
"You give love a bad name,"
You broke eye contact as you moved around the stage back to the microphone stand,
"You give love,"
You took a quick breath as "Whoa-oh"s were sung out by someone behind you
"You give love, bad name,"
You tapped your foot on the ground, timing it with the guitar,
"You give love,"
You turned your eyes back to Velvette,
"You give love, bad name,''
You blew a quick kiss to her,
You didn't know what possessed you to do so, you'd probably regret it later though.
"You give love,''
You turned around and began walking over to the part of the stage you originally came from,
"You give love, bad name,"
Velvette watched you, eyes never leaving you for a moment, did she even blink??
"You give love,"
You grabbed onto the silky red certains that hide the back part of the stage from wandering eyes,
"You give love, bad name."
Velvette watched as you disappeared from sight, going behind the stage.
Velvette returned to her seat where her companions from before finally returned,
She glanced back at the stage, and managed to spot you waltzing out from behind it with someone patting your back saying what a great show you did, she watched as you ordered a drink, slowly going back to your more reserved persona.
Velvette would most definitely corner you against a wall when you came to work the next morning, putting her fingers under your chin like you had done to her.
Truly did you expect to get away from her that easily after your little show?
Good evening folks! Hope you enjoy I had a ton of fun writing! This is scheduled to go up Monday morning!
The amount of times Velvette autocorrect into Velveeta while I was writing.
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#velvette x reader#hazbin hotel Velvette x reader#hazbin velvette x reader
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hey I respect you a lot which is why I’m reaching out to you about this. Maybe you’re just unaware, but a LOT of the protesters are not just “breaking into buildings”. They are harassing, attacking, and calling for the genocide of Jewish people. Do you think there shouldn’t be protection for Jewish students? I’m concerned that we’ve reached a point where all protests are becoming acceptable, and the rhetoric of that post you reblogged is only normalizing violence. It claims that it doesn’t support state-sanctioned violence, but clearly accepts violence from protestors, which is proving to be increasingly dangerous to Jewish people on and off campuses. I recommend you take a closer look into what’s really happening at these protests. You have to consider if you’d find the same actions acceptable from a cause you do not support. And if you do, maybe you should examine why you think violence and hate speech is acceptable. You don’t have to publicly respond to this ask, I just want you to consider these things.
my very basic interpretation of this post (i’m a blogger not an epistemologist) is that police brutality/negligence is unacceptable. do i think violence and hate speech are acceptable? also no.
but this is a very relevant topic, because today is May 4th, the 54th anniversary of the Kent State Shooting: police shot live ammunition into a crowd of college students protesting the Vietnam War, killing four people and injuring nine.
not the same situation at all, but all the same - i would never support state sanctioned violence against people protesting a genocide. that isn’t a controversial statement to me…. i would never support state sanctioned violence against ANYONE! i would also never support violence or hate speech against anyone! why should i have to surrender either of these beliefs?
#maybe the world isn’t ready to be where i’m at here? but i’m not fucking budging so…#cw mass shooting#cw police brutality#kent state shootings#today is probably hard enough for the survivors so i’m tagging
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Sun Wukong: "It's actually amazing how quickly you're mastering your powers—when I was your age-"
MK: "-You were fighting the celestial armies and generally swinging your big ol' tail around to get what you wanted?"
Sun Wukong: "Well I was going to say making regrettable life choices but yeah, thanks for laying out. I'm embarrassed to admit it but—you might have actually already done more for this world that I ever have!"
(4x01 Familiar Tale)
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MK: "That's what you were pretending to be right? To be my friend? To care about me? When really you were just using me to get what you wanted! To turn me against my own mentor! Put your hand in the monkey cage, and expect to get bit son!"
(4x13 Rip and Tear)
-
#I hate this stupid fucking lego show (loves it so deeply)#*head in my hands .png*#Swinging your big ol tail around. to get what you want.#Just shoot me just kill me do it take the shot#lmk#lego monkie kid#monkie kid#lmk MK
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x. average sci-fi milf
#he's so star wars imperial. so star trek starfleet command uniform. to me.#myevilposts#pete wentz#he just looks like he's five seconds away from giving a monologue made up of mostly dumb sci-fi jargon for me to spend#five hours at least dissecting relative to the rest of the then lore vs current lore/the recontextualized emotion behind his character#that wasn't established for at least another decade. tbh!#or rip this tunic off to reveal a white tank top underneath and go crawling through a fucked up insane looking#computer room looking ass engine room on the space ship he was stationed as second or third command on. tbh.#in an effort to save his co-workers/co-habitants/friends/family/humanity itself from the ship going down by sabotage and#he winds up having to dig deep into his psyche and confront some hard truths about himself and the horrors#of capitalism before whipping out a blaster and shooting up the shape shifting monster that was hiding itself as a crate in the corner.#the monster shape shifts into his dead/ex lover/friend and begs for mercy as it begins bleeding out. pete bites back tears#and gives a one-liner worthy of arnold. like 'you're appealing to emotions that i simply do not have.' single tear rolls down his cheek#as he fires a second shot at the monster killing it for good this time. it changes back to its normal form that is like some#weird blue tentacle puppet monster. pete wipes sweat off his forehead and shrugs his tunic back on as a kind of cape and#walks off. credits roll as he returns to command center and takes his rightful spot as captain because like only a couple/maybe none#of the other people lived.#pete probably being so hyped to be in a weird sci-fi thing vs his acting skills. fight!
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Seems a little unfair
#and yes I know Randy weaver was not in the right#but neither was the entirety of the us government killing most of his family over a land dispute#I also wish to stress i am all for taking away the guns of American citizens#And ruby ridge has not radicalised me into a right wing asshole#but it still makes me angry#you know maybe this would have ended better if (get this) neither the clearly unhinged federal agents or the random civilians had had guns#god I hate peolke who hear about this and suddenly go “oh if they had just let Randy weaver keep his fucking illegal weapon it would’ve-#-been fine.” Just Christ. Randy weaver was not correct. The federal agents who shot his fourteen yr old son in the back were not correct.#I do think this all comes back to civilians owning firearms.#But an infant child nearly suffocated under the corpse of his mother while officials in camouflage were still shooting at the house they-#-were in.#just take away the guns man#the moral of the story isn’t loosen gun laws#how would that be the right answer after every person who died at ruby ridge died of gunshot wounds#don’t let civilians own weapons designed for killing things#and don’t let branches of the federal government just do what they want#So many things went wrong at ruby ridge#and most of them could’ve been solved if radical isolationists in the mountains of Idaho hadn’t had long-range weapons#I’m just repeating myself now#So I’ll stop#And it happens all time#police killings#the American government is dangerous and most of the people in it (particularly in the-#But if yoh think that if means that gun laws should be loosened then there’s not helping you.#But if yoh think that if means that gun laws should be loosened then there’s no helping you.#Tags start repeating from here on out idk why I can’t fix it but this is the end
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Syn has been living in my head rent free so he gets put in situations, situations being going to a nice café apparently and chatting with another shadow mewtwo, hope this is okay @seasidemew also Pikkot and the concept of Stardust Café belongs to @spikyegg!
Business was steady within multiverse Stardust café, Pokémon filed in and out most ordering their treats to go as they continued on their journey through the possibilities while some chose to stay and take a seat, taking a moment to relax within the calm aromatic atmosphere of the shop, freshly baked treats and breads steamed creating a delicious scent with carefully crafted teas to suit. The customers chatted at their tables to those they'd never even met before from entirely different worlds all taking the time to enjoy the delicacies lovingly baked by Pikkot in the kitchen, strangers exchanged cakes and brownies to each other in warmth as for a time a great sense of community was created within the room.
Due to the boundaries of this space within and between universes synergy corrupt individuals found that they quickly mellowed out as the behaviours of seeking more power were impossible in this environment and yet being in this bubble outside of worlds kept them appeased allowing many to return to an almost rational state. Though the many customers still exercised an air of caution about the two dark hued genetic Pokémon that were chatting up a storm at one of the tables, creating a noticeable area of empty seats. The taller, lighter gray hued of the two laughed into his hand as his tail idly swayed the end glowing brightly as it brushed across the floor. The more dark blue gray hued one with bright glowing crackles of energy flashing over her skin continued moving her hands in flourish as she told her story, her tail tip flicked in engagement though rested on a stool rather than laying on the floor like her companion's due to the bright shining and incredibly sharp crystal fused into the tip of her tail.
"Of course I wasn't going to let such a cheap tactic fly, while I understand it from a battle strategy point of view my way of seeing it is, if one is going to execute some cheap trick you need to be sure you can follow through, use it to your advantage to strike an ending blow and win, otherwise you're just gonna piss me off," she laughed a bit of an empty cruel laugh her tail swaying near the base which didn't quite reach the end, "well, I say that is if the miserable little creature had any real chance of winning." Her hand moved, rolling her wrist to flourish with her hand once more, "not to brag or anything." Her tone not matching her statement.
"I will give them the fact they managed to create a mark," her finger touched over a small scar on her forearm tapping it before turning her arm in examination, "not that it's that noticeable, well not noticeable to normal people at least but noticeable to champions," her mouth turned into a grin and although she showed teeth it was playful as her tone complimented casually. Her companion smirked as he raised a brow before relaxing into a chuckle.
"Complimenting me won't make me reconsider my evaluation on how much of a threat you might be," though they watched each other with equal caution there was a level of ease and playfulness to his tone, "but it does boost my ego." She tutted.
"Arceus in heaven above we can't be having that," she remarked playfully. She leant back casually in her chair in a half stretch as he turned from the waist to look around the café casually at hearing the bell on the door chime, he regarded the Bisharp with little interest turning back to sitting forward. There was a softer chime from the order up bell as a short, glasses wearing orange tailed mewtwo collected the plates of cakes and other confectioneries along with the two teacups and a specially chosen tea brewed in a teapot to compliment the taste buds. As they walked around the front desk carefully holding the tray in their hands the Bisharp moved backwards in a deliberate fast beat that saw their foot standing directly on one of the mewtwos toes and their bladed body roughly knocking into them also as the mewtwo staggered from surprise and no doubt pain. Their momentum saw them side stepping before they steadied and slowed the tray still balanced and no treats lost or tea spilt as they sighed in relief.
The Bisharp barked some remark about watching where you're going to the Mewtwo as they continued forward, keeping their head down before arriving at the table of the shadow Pokémon without further incident. Carefully they took the plates from the tray placing them on the table along with the teacups and pot, the lighter one, Syn glanced over the food that had been delivered and brought his eyes over to glance at the other mewtwo, short for mewtwo standards for sure with a short tail to boot, a bump in the chest piece that would indicate a mega stone along with some noticeable scarring around the region. His eyes glanced at the cuts made in their side that were starting to slowly bleed.
"That looked like it hurt," he commented casually as they put down the last of the tables order, he watched them move their shoulder and arm to look at the cuts and frown to themselves.
"aah drat…I guess it did," the mewtwo who he realized was a female spoke from their mouth, "could've been worse though, so glad it wasn't." Her tone was infectiously positive and a bit on the loud side."Pikkots gonna end up making a first aid wall of shame for me though at this rate," she laughs in an easy manner, "well I hope you both enjoy, and Darkness don't cause any trouble."
The darker mewtwo made something of a bleh sound in response as the orange two walked back to the kitchen to go receive first aid for their cuts, giving the bisharp an incredibly wide berth.
Syn made a soft laugh, "I still can't believe you settled on Darkness as your name."
"Oh yea sure Mr Syn-ergy crystal, I was young I'd only had this body what 3 minutes when I made that choice, I'm looking into experimenting with a new name ya jerk." Her tone was easy though as he chuckled picking out a treat to try from the selection, dramatically hovering his hand above the plates twirling his finger.
"So, how do you know that other mewtwo? Didn't strike me as the type of person you'd hang out with."
Darkness took a macaron and popped it in her mouth happily enjoying the texture and flavor on her tongue with a satisfied hum before speaking with projected telepathy, "she's not, that was May she's," she paused struggling for words rolling her wrist in a few circles before uncertainly settling on, "she was my first suitable host that survived having me implanted into them, and she's the horrid creature that mutually corrupted me as I corrupted her." She made a noise, "and I suppose now in this body I'm technically her clone sibling as I had to use her genetic sequencing to create this absolute form of perfection." She gestures to herself proudly in emphasis, "I blame the unique situation of our corruption for my, difficulties now with taking over another host. Luckily this body suits me quite nicely." She shrugged casually lifting the teapot carefully with psychic energy and pouring the tea into one of the available cups, she glanced with her eyes and motioned with her head and Syn moved his cup to motion that yes he would like a cup too.
"You must be fibbing," he brought the cup to his lips to take a drink before biting into a cupcake, he continued telepathically, "she's hardly a viable host? I haven't seen her use any Psychic powers, she walks around mouth talks and carries things in her hands plus she let that Bisharp get away with bullying her, she seems too soft to survive a corruption event. And there's no way you're cloned from her, she's all small and cute looking and you're well," he gestures vaguely, "you're designer."
"Good save with that one," She chuckled "and you're telling me, I am well aware of the state of her," Darkness sighed a bit turning a cupcake between her fingers, "she's, something, she's annoying weak and placid but it took me years to wear her down enough to take over, I was implanted before she was even technically full grown or officially born. It's embarrassing to think how long she prevented me for, but I suppose admirable in a weird way. I have a bit more of an appreciation for her now that I'm, more organic, urg semantics." She bit into the cupcake aggressively with a frustrated huff at her display of emotions.
He raised a brow at her, "it took years to possess her? And what happened when you finally succeeded?" he leant his elbow on the table leaning in a bit to hear more, he was a bit surprised in all honesty wondering what that meant for the power this May had to remain herself for so long.
"When I finally was able to take control I found a strange amount of potential within her, I found when used by the right person, myself of course, she could be incredibly powerful and dangerous. She was strong and I'll admit I was shocked at how well she took hits. Though I decided partly from vainness and partly from the fact I resented her at the time that she was inadequate even with her potential and decided to find the perfect vessel which led to having to clone and make the perfect body myself. I have to do all the hard work around here." She chuckled to herself.
"I'll admit though, I do worry about what she'd be like under the effects of an unaltered synergy crystal, no ideas mister," She lazily pointed a finger at him in accusation as he put his hands up in mock surrender pondering what would happen if he extended his corruption to her.
"I can see your face thinking, it could be your funeral." Darkness shrugged idly before smiling a bit as she chuckled to herself pointing with her thumb at a different mewtwo of a red pink hue and many discoloration patterns wearing a prosthetic on one arm and using psychic energy to recreate the other to make up for not having actual arms below the elbow and higher on one arm and a more pointed tail, "it also means I'm related to that fool over there another clone not made by me, if I have to put up with them at least I get free entertainment." She laughed a bit but Syn could see a bit of softness to her as she watched the other mewtwo flirting away to some male customers.
The orange mewtwo May returned from wherever she'd gone sporting some plasters and bandages carrying trays and deliveries out to people once again. "So, that scar on her chest was-?"
"That's from me yes," Darkness casually answered before he could finish as she touched the jagged crystal growing out of her chest, "burst out of her when I finally took over, was incredibly painstaking making sure I got every piece out of her when I transfered into this form, I'm amazed I can still mega evolve with the mewtonite in such a state." She moved her tail, lifting it to show off the sharp crystal on the end like a blade, "this was all home grown however, carefully shaped and added."
"You grew synergy crystal?" Syn asked intrigued as she started to tell him about the process of successfully managing to grow and farm synergy crystal and how to encourage the crystals to grow a certain way.
Syn continued to glance over at the other customers as they discussed in lengths the process of crystal growing. He would watch the other mewtwos as well, some from many other universes arrived and he observed and mentally categorized them. Most of them looked like easy pickings, others looked like very filling meals. At some point Darkness as sneakily as possible opened a jar of gherkins, he accepted one to try in confusion to why she brought them to a sweetie café watching her bite into a cupcake and then a gherkin. He could faintly hear Pikkot in the kitchen gasp in absolute horror as though sensing someone was committing crimes against his baking as Syn could only stare in bafflement.
"Not pregnant are you, dear Darkness?" He smirked playfully in mock as he looked at her and she looked back at him, with the silence becoming just a touch deafening.
"Look-" She began before there was an incredibly loud clattering of metal trays and the scraping of a chair rapidly sliding across the floor before clattering over loudly. It distracted both the shadow Pokémon enough to look over at the drama.
The bisharp from before was stood with their table and chair thrown about and trays scattered across the floor. The red pink hued mewtwo apparently called Matt had his arms to his chest in startled protective reflex as he stood near the trouble making Pokémon.
"Look I'm gonna have to ask you to leave, that is completely unacceptable! Like look at this mess man, I'm gonna have to pick this all up!" Matt threw up his arms in an exaggerated fashion at his frustration at the mess. The Bisharp eyed Matt up as it moved slowly stalking to the side like some predator eyeing up its prey. The other customers quickly moved to be as far away as they could to be out of the danger zone.
"Woah.. Woah hey now..dont like how you're looking at me..you wouldn't attack a guy with no arms would ya?" Matt turned on his feet following the prowling Bisharp not letting it get behind him and quickly yelping as it decided to lunge with Matt promptly half throwing himself to the side out the way yelling, "NEVER MIND I GUESS YOU WOULD."
He slipped on some smooshed cake as he attempted to scramble away from the danger, Syn almost wondered if he should step in if only for the thrill of a fight. He moved to stand and felt Darkness grab his forearm with a quiet, "hold on I wanna see what happens," as he gave her a confused look wondering why she was preventing probably the only competent person from stepping in to help her supposed brother.
The Bisharp swung their arm to slash with intent to cause serious injury before it's body froze in place, a thin shimmering white outline could be seen around their body as May stepped out from the kitchen with a cold expression, her eyes completely white. Despite the psychic energy rolling off of her in waves picking up the scattered chairs and tables scooping up squished cake and generally tidying up she didn't float, her arms carefully wrapped under Matts to pull him up as he moved to very quickly duck behind his furious sister.
She looked around the restaurant scanning over to make sure that no one else was hurt and nothing else needed fixing as the Bisharp made a grunt of effort as they attempted to break free of the psychic restraint, her head snapping to look at them at the sound.
She stared at them, tail swishing up and down as the metal blade on their arm began to quietly rattle and with a crack the metal shattered and they dropped to the floor at the sudden release.
The bisharp wailed at the destruction of their blade and there was no sympathy on her face as they stumbled holding their injured arm that hung limp with the pain having more than just a damaged pride as they fled out the door. Her eyes remained aglow watching after them, undoubtedly aware that with a damaged blade the social position of that bisharp was now ruined, that they would likely lose their pack and struggle to hunt, and there was still no sympathy on her face as she blinked and her eyes returned to normal.
"Boooo you should've killed him," Darkness hollered as other customers looked at her in horror at her suggestion as she simply smirked and shrugged. May shook her head checking over her brother asking if he was hurt before sweeping up the scattered metal shards off the floor and moving to apologize to the nearby customers for the actions she just took.
"What just happened.." Syn glanced at Darkness in bewilderment but also in slight awe at the casual brutality he just witnessed.
"I told you, Mays got potential but for some reason she can use her powers to protect other people and not herself and when she does use her powers? Well you saw what happened. Again, no ideas mister I don't wanna see her as a shadow version of her."
"Of course," he spoke glancing over as May went back to work, "I wouldn't dream of it." He lied casually.
#My writing#My ocs#@Seasidemews Syn#(hope u don't mind me tagging this one didn't wanna bother ur main)#@spikyegg Pikkot#I'd like to formally apologise for Darkness committing crimes against Pikkots baking and for the fallen cakes#But the idea of Pikkot just sensing someone doing something off with his food and gasping in horror and disgust amuses me so#Me @ Syn: so you got a bad bitch already synergy corrupted but like a side flavor of synergy that probably can't sync with urs-#And she's toll (6'9) and incredibly powerful while also having higher conscious and awareness so shes got complexity#Or you've got May who's just kinda short but she could and would kill someone without hesitation if they threatened her fam#And Syn goes hmmm I want the smol one XD I can see him preferring someone he can corrupt and corrupt with his synergy#Since him and Darkness unfortunately probably can't vibe but at least she's not rival but they can banter#Mushroom really said due to reasons shadow Pokémon get to be more chill here but pokemon that are assholes are still assholes#I needed drama okay XD#So Syns a lot more chill since he's not starving for energy and Darkness is less edgy too they're just vibing ur honor#Also darkness preggo moment maybe she usually ends up with a karma kid for her crimes so she suffers with anxiety from higher consciousness#Me @ darkness bing bong get frontal lobed binch#Also Matts here for comic relief but trust me he probably tries to shoot his shot with Syn only for the rejection sorry Matt#Matt is not immune to pretty men even if evil#Syn really just shows up in my brain and I go of course sir here take a seat and eat nice food /I/ am not immune to shadow mewtwo#(also I am assume Syns more that 6'9 otherwise oops Darkness would be Toller than him but like he probably has height over her)#(and may is 5'4 so shes SMOL ur honor but absolutely would attempt to fight Syn if he was actually in their universe being a threat)#(she can and WILL bite lmao)
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I have an angsty addition to a bls 3 sidequest for Tricks I keep thinking about
#so you know how bls sometimes has optional bits for sidequests? Well. I was thinking. Tricks makes a grave for Jack on pandora. Nothing fan#cy. But Tricks *needs* a place to mourn#He can't ever move on. He isn't the same with Jack. And despite trying his best to keep that gravesite secret once out on a job he just k#nows some *scumbag* is fucking with it. Ans he can't leave his job so against everything he calls for anyone to help him out. 'Vaultie. I k#now your little captain of mine wants me dead-- but I'm not quite ready to join Jack just yet. Look. I'll be serious. Someone's messing wit#h my grave. Go and take care of it *please*.' and there's worry in Tricks' voice. Like he can't handle this little space being broken. 'If#you do that for me? I'll give you and all your friends the location of an old gun cache. Everything in it all for you'#and so the mission would be a standard kill some baddies. However. I'm thinking about Lilith calling up like 'The NERVE he has after the da#mage he caused us? After all these years? No. You do what's right. Destory that gravesite. Whatever is left.'#and if you do that? Tricks calls and it's just dead silent for a few seconds. No background crackle or anything. Before his voice cuts in.#Flat and monotone as he goes 'Jack was right. You vault hunters are all the same. I should've shot your leader and watched the chaos ensue.#I had nothing else to lose. But you all love to kick the corpse more then I do. If I see you ANYWHERE? I'm going to take SO much pleasure#when I shoot you in every spot where it'll be a bitch but not quite kill you. I always loved the smell of a stuck corrosive bullet.'#you give love a bad name#kinda
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would you guys believe me if I said that I, as a lvl 10 fighter lvl 5 cleric did a collective 225 damage to a dragon over only two rounds
#chris.txt#so. just had the second last session (!) of a dnd campaign. weve been playinf this one for /2 years/ (started may 2020)#so. heres how this worked and came together. im a gunslinger and use a customized gun to fight#this gun is double-barreled allowing me to shoot two bullets per shot#i can shoot three times on my turn but aftwr three shots i have to reload(third shot is a bonus action ans it takes me a BA to reload)#i cast magic weapon on myself (+1 damage) our cleric cast holy weapon (2d8 radiant damage per bullet i shoot)#so i do 4d8+6 damage per hit (2d8+5 base)#first round of this i had to reload and then hit all of my shots (16d8+24). rolled a solid 100 damage#second round. again had to reload. hit all my shots and crit once. we do crit rules of doubling the dice of that attack#so. 20d8+24 for those attacks. 125 damage rolled#how much hp did the dragon have after my attacks? 5. cleric killed it with a first level guiding bolt#AND now we're lvl 18 (lvl 12 fighter lvl 6 cleric) so we can wreck EVEN MORE SHOP in our final battle!!!!
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It would be hilarious if villains loved Nightwing and were terrified of Officer Dick Grayson.
Dick Grayson- who is used to open spaces and adrenaline- being stuck in a boring bleak office, surviving on shots of coffee and red bull with caffeine that would make Tim concerned.
The thugs soon realised that unlike most of the other cops - Dick was from Gotham.
No one fucks with Gothamites.
Villain *shooting at Dick with machine guns*
Dick *appearing from the shadows behind him*: Boo.
Villain: THIS IS A FIVE STOREY BUILDING HOW THE HELL DID YOU GET HERE
Or
Thief *throwing a counting down bomb at Dick*
Dick: *catching and tossing the bomb at a safe distance before turning round and shooting it so it explodes mid air while running after thief*
Thief: .. what the actual fuck
Dick: Gee look at all that time you had! Shame you threw it away :D
Thief:
Dick: I’m from Gotham
Thief *realising they fucked up* : Please don’t steal my bones
OR
Shooter: *sets elaborate booby traps throughout the houses in an active hostage situation*
Dick *using his training as robin and inhuman flexibility to surpass them with ease*: Ah been a while since I got to have a nice stretch thank you.
Shooter:
Dick:
Shooter:
Dick: .. Hi :)
Shooter: Are you Satan?
AND
In interrogation room
Murderer: I think I’ll take your eyes and add them to my collection
Dick *running on spite and caffeine that could give Superman a sugar rush* : Funny.. I was going to say the same thing to you
Murderer: .. what
Dick: I wouldn’t take your eyes though.. they look like the inspiration behind the whole Medusa’s “look at it and you turn to stone” thing-
Murderer: Hey! Take that back before I gut you
Dick *smile stretching wider without blinking* : oh? Or what? I know everything about you. Who says I can’t kill you and walk out with everyone being none the wiser? I know how to kill someone too..you aren’t special.
Murderer:
Murderer: I’m scared for my safety.
Because the thing is, Nightwing is who Dick really is. It’s who he can be free as, be himself as without red tapes and regulations. Where he can give as good as he gets, and he’s kind and empathetic. He gets to help the downtrodden and goes easy on most of them if they give up right away, not to mention the fact that he never causes permanent damage.
But officer Dick Grayson is a different story. He runs on sleepless nights and no self preservation. Seeing an officer with an uncanny skill set they’re scarily good at, not to mention the cheery attitude he always has scares the shit out of criminals. Cuz no way in hell is a smiling Gothamite not a deranged one. He chases crimes like a bloodhound, and isn’t afraid to make good on threats he makes to ensure they never hurt anyone again.
Bonus if the batfam doesn’t know about this.
Red hood: Shit I can’t believe we ended up in Bludhaven
Red Robin *tying up the corrupt politican* : Since this is a sensitive case, we need someone we can trust to make sure it is seen through.
Red hood: .. So we paying a visit to Officer Grayson?
Politician *screeching* : NO NO NO NO! PLEASE NOT HIM!! JUST KILL ME INSTEAD AND TAKE ALL MY MONEY I CANT DEAL WITH HIM!
Red hood: .. is he fucking serious?
Henchmen: Sir he is. And we agree. Please take our bones and kill us but don’t take us to Officer Grayson.
Red Robin: Wait what did he do?
Henchman 1: He asked boss if the hat was sentient.. and said that if it was would it make that hat the top and boss the bottom.
Henchman 2: Last time we met I tried to shoot him but suddenly my gun was blank and he raised his hand and let the ammo drop
Red Hood: Well even I could do that-
Henchman 2: They were my bullets. I had selected the colour personally.
Red robin *growing concerned*
Henchman 3: He sang a lullaby to a child when we were holding the station hostage, and replaced the people with my family members. He even sang their social security numbers!
Henchman 4: He’s the most dangerous of them all. I ain’t shitting ya when I say he’s as scary as the bat from Gotham.
*all nodding in agreement*
Red hood:
Red Robin:
Red hood: Nah that doesn’t sound like Dick
Red Robin: Agreed. Let’s go there Hood.
*villains’ sobbing intensifies*
#batman#dick grayson#jason todd#red hood#nightwing#tim drake#batfam#red robin#officer dick grayson#batfam headcanons#dick Grayson headcanons#dick grayson police officer
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💜
#following tags will discuss a mass shooting don’t read if you’re not in a stable mental place take care of yourselves 💜#yesterday while I was on the way home from work there was a mass shooting down the street from my work/in the heart of the city#this was in the heart of the city in broad daylight at a high school graduation a graduating senior and his father were shot and killed and#others were shot and are in the hospital who knows if they will recover a 14 year old was shot a nine year old boy was hit by a car running#from the shooting trying to protect himself all of those graduating high schoolers and their families had to run for their lives and were#traumatized on a day that should have been joyful and at the time that this happened I was headed home and saw tons of police cars zooming#past and then did teletherapy and before even hearing about the shooting this morning I was crying to my therapist about how it feels like#the world is crumbling apart and there is so much cruelty and there are things happening to my friends and to the people around me and#there’s nothing I can do about it I just feel so powerless and defeated I want to crawl in a hole and not emerge until things have gotten#better and then to come to work and be told that we’re probably going to be assigned this case to defend the shooter and it’s like I don’t#think people should be put in cages right? I don’t think prison is an appropriate or effective solution and it#certainly is modern day slavery and the people that go to prison often come out years later with no options and very little rights and it’s#not helpful to anyone really I’m not saying I want the kid that did this to be locked up forever because it’s not actually going to solve#the issue that being said I’m already investigating a shooting/murder that happened in broad daylight a few months ago on a street I was#walking on twenty minutes before the shooting and I am struggling with it#I don’t know how we can be expected to defend this client who killed people down the street from us in broad daylight who shot at children#and it all makes me feel so utterly powerless#it feels like the world is falling apart and there is nothing I can do#all my irl friends are really going through it right now and I don’t want to put this on them but I need to get it out of my head
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I have a hard time talking about American law enforcement, because I have ptsd (like a therapist told me this and everything) from my own experiences with cops and because it's so balls quaking insane.
Like, a cop in the United States can pull you over for any reason. Which is a nice way of saying no reason, because literally anything can be used after the fact as justification. A cop can say its cuz you looked at him, or didnt look at him, or it looked like you were holding something, or looked like you were driving too perfectly for it to be natural. It's insane.
There are apparently no circumstances where a cop can't just kill you. The line the courts have applied is "reasonably believed" you were a threat, but that's such a nebulous nothing limit that people get shot for reaching for their license, having their phone in their hand, you're running away with no weapon, not being able to follow conflicting commands, like anything. And cops are almost never charged, because every court is going to believe he could "reasonably believe" he was threatened. Fuck, if you give me enough time, I can make any situation seem juuuuust plausibly threatening enough to pass that bar. It's insane.
A cop can just rob you. Like tell you to give him your wallet, take all the cash out, and just walk away with it. Exactly like you would imagine getting robbed in an alley would go, except no one can help. And he doesn't even have to hide it, he just drops it in a box at the station and they put it in their bank account. It's legal. You can't prove it wasn't drug money. I can't prove any money wasn't at some point drug money. It's insane.
If a cop just walks in your front door and says "I'm here to kill you and your entire family" YOU ARE GOING TO PRISON IF YOU STOP HIM. There is no positive defense for assaulting a police officer in the United States, and doubly so if you kill him. You have effectively no defense against a homicidal cop, which happens same as any other job. Unless for some reason you have cameras all thru your house and clearly caught the audio of him saying that he's there just to kill you, you have zero chance of not going to prison, probably for life. And that's assuming you aren't killed "resisting arrest" while being taken into custody. It is a crime, in this country, for you to defend yourself under any circumstances if the person you're defending yourself from is a cop. That's insane.
You don't have civil rights if a cop says so. You have the right to have a gun, right? A lot of states have open carry. A cop can shoot you if he sees you have a gun. Doesn't matter if you have a license and everything. So you effectively don't have the right to bear arms if a cop can shoot you for exercising it. You have the right to protest. Unless a cop tells you to stop. He doesn't need a real reason to tell you to stop. And if you don't stop, you can be arrested or shot. So you don't really have the right to protest, do you? A cop cant just search your car or house, right? Unless he claims he heard something, or smelled something, neither of which can be proven. So a cop can search whatever he wants, as long as he pretends there was a "reason". So you dont have protection from unreasonable search and seizure, do you? These are no longer rights- they're things the cops allow.. for now. But legally, those rights have already been found to not actually be rights, because any random cop can decide to take that right from you, for any reason. It's insane.
These aren't like crazy things that I'm just making up, these aren't some weird twisted way I'm looking at something, these are all very real things that we all just.. ignore? Police abolitionists and the media bring these things up all the time, and the overwhelming response to it is: so what? Don't break the law and it won't matter. Blue lives matter. More police funding. Cops should have tanks. It's insane. And I always feel like im just rambling and sound insane when I say this kind of stuff because if you wrote a book and had the dystopian government doing the stuff that the police in this country do every single day, those same people who "back the blue" would line up to say stuff like "*Books government* wouldnt have a chance before us real americans stopped them" on twitter and not even get a hint of the irony.
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chat
words: 1.3k
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, streamer!rafe, gamer!rafe, established relationship, semi public sex, male receiving oral
part one / part two
“sup chat.” rafe says, barely glancing at the words on the screen as viewers pour in. “we are playing cod, what the fuck else would we be playing?”
you giggle quietly in the corner of the room. you're not surprised that when rafe decided to start streaming that he grew quickly in popularity. his good looks compared with dry sense of humor and ruthlessness made him get both girls and guys to become loyal viewers.
rafe loads up modern warfare, glancing at you as you watch him intensely, the one person he cares about.
“come here baby.” rafe beckons you over. you appear regularly on his streams, usually just sitting silently watching him play, or scrolling on your phone in the background.
you move quickly to rafes side, bending down to press a kiss to his lips when he lifts his head up.
“love you.” you whisper, kissing the smirk that stretches over his lips.
you turn to look at the screen as the comments about you roll in. “sorry ladies, but he's mine.” you rub your hand against rafes neck as you read a message out loud.
“how long have you been dating?”
“since mind your own business.” rafe fires back quickly, making you roll your eyes, watching as he joins a private party of his friends and other streamers.
rafe may get snippy with chatters (half of which go crazy and start talking about being degraded by him) but he never acts that way with you as he lets out a whine when you walk away.
“another kiss for good luck.”
you press your mouths together again, increasing the intensity for all to see as you make out until you hear the game begin. you pull away to take your place just off screen.
“god, she's hot, isn't she?” rafe says with a smirk, glancing over to you as the boys in chat no doubt agree considering your ass was in the camera for part of the kiss. you roll your eyes dramatically, making rafe smile.
you pull your phone out as the game starts. you like to watch him play sometimes, but as rafe has streamed more and more, you've lost interest in the game and prefer to scroll through instagram or tiktok while listening to him responding to chatters or talking with fellow streamers.
you eventually grow bored as he plays game after game. you check his stream on your phone, curious the number of current viewers. he's not one of the most streamed, but he gets consistently good numbers as you lock your phone and place it down.
rafe glances over to you as he sees you move, but his eyes snap back to the game as shooting erupts from the speakers and he has to focus on not getting killed.
you move next to rafe, very aware that you are in perfect view of the camera as you sink to your knees and crawl under the desk.
“baby.” rafe warns, the other players letting out a laugh, but are quickly silenced with a growl from rafe.
“come on, just let me put it in my mouth.” you whine, not sure if the microphone is going to pick up your begging. “want it so bad.”
rafe usually wouldn't stop you, but he doesn't want to get banned and have to find someplace new to stream.
“alright, don't distract me from my game though.” he says, looking down between his legs as you work yourself in-between, pushing wires out of the way so you can kneel comfortably.
chat exploded as rafes view count rises, not hiding at all what you are doing between his legs as you tug at his basketball shorts, forcing them out from beneath him as his underwear is revealed, cock clearly outlined through the thin fabric.
you waste no time presses kisses up and down his length until it's straining against the fabric. rafe manages to keep his concentration on the game despite you pulling his cock out of his underwear.
“fuck.” he mutters softly as your bare mouth is now on him, eyes on the screen as he evades getting shot.
“yeah, she's under the fucking desk. stop talking about it.” rafe addresses his chat that must be going crazy.
you hear some commotion from the people on call with them, but even they don't push it as rafe changes the conversation back to the game, telling the other players what they need to do next.
you sink your lips around his cock, staying true to your word and letting it sit heavy on your tongue, keeping still as you close your eyes.
“alright, move baby.” rafe says after a few minutes, tapping you on the head.
you didn't hear him say goodbye to stream, but you assume he must have ended it as your head begins to bob up and down, cock pushing deep into your throat before you retract.
you swirl your tongue around his tip, loving the unique taste on your tongue as you lap up and down his shaft, making obscene slurping noises that you probably should be ashamed of, but you don't care if people do hear. you don't think anyone would blame you with how attractive rafe is.
“good girl.” he moans out as you hear his mouse furiously clicking.
you go back to sucking at his cock, hollowing out your cheeks as you move just how you know rafe likes it.
“goddamn it.” rafe groans, smashing his mouse against the desk as he gets killed in the game, his hand lowering as he waits to press against the back of your head, pushing you down until your nose is nuzzled against his skin.
you hold for as long as possible, even after rafes fingers return to his keyboard as a new game begins until you can't restrict your gag reflex any longer, pulling off with a cough.
“chat shut the fuck up.” rafe grunts out.
you lean forward, looking up at him through the space between his body and the desk. “you're still streaming?”
rafe glances down at you, your lips pink and shiny, face looking small next to his erect cock.
“keep going, baby. don't worry about it.”
“mkay.” you shrug. you know rafe won't blame you even if he does get in trouble for streaming this. despite nothing actually being shown, he hasn't exactly been subtle about it.
you bring your focus back to rafes cock, suckling on the head before you begin to move up and down his shaft again, his long length being wrapped in the warmth of your mouth.
“close.” rafe warns with a moan.
“dude, are you actually getting head right now?” someone asks. you recognize their voice as a fellow streamer.
“shut up.” rafe says. “are you trying to get me banned?”
“sorry.” he quickly says.
“just focus on the fucking game and cover for me for a minute.” rafe navigates his character into a corner as he looks down at you, both hands coming to the back of your head, pushing you down as his hips lift, burying his cock down your throat as he cums.
you swallow as quickly as you can, not wanting to lose a single drop as he coats your throat before letting go, pulling you off to see you sputter, a wicked grin on his face.
rafe pulls his underwear to cover his cock once again as you crawl out from under the desk, your knees weak as you wobble slightly as you stand, rafe reaching out to wrap an arm around your waist to keep you steady.
“thanks for that, baby.” rafe says, hand squeezing against your side.
you look at him, a glimmer in your eye as you whisper. “does this mean i can sit on your cock next time we do a couples stream?”
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goal // hockey!chris
summary: your boyfriend gets in a fight during his hockey game
part two
“SHIT!” I scream as the opposing team launches the puck into the goal. With some miracle, it’s pulled to the side goalpost, keeping the score at 2-2.
I relax in my seat with my best friend sitting next to me, her tension releasing just as much as mine, maybe more, considering her boyfriend is the goalie.
I watch as my boyfriend skates back onto the ice, tapping his stick three times to get my attention.
I love you.
I smile at him, watching as he races across the ice and steals the puck from his opponent.
In retaliation, that player slams Chris into the boards in front of me. My eyes widen at the sound of the impact, but my boyfriend skates backwards unscathed.
“We still on for dinner tonight?” he asks me in the middle of his game.
I nod, trying my best not to distract him.
We met when my best friend took me to her boyfriend's hockey banquet. It was hard not to be captivated by Chris. He checked all the right boxes and captured my attention with ease. I wanted to know everything about him.
We talked the whole night, then hung out in groups until we finally had the courage to go on a proper date. He kissed my cheek when he dropped me off at my apartment across our college campus, a complete sweetheart in the palm of my hands.
We started dating after a few months, taking everything really slow, especially with the chaos of our own college schedules and him having to travel for his games.
Chris skates next to his brothers, Sturniolo stitched into three jerseys standing next to each other as their coach speaks with them during their timeout.
I look at Chris’ hand, sticking out behind him. He has his hand out with his middle and ring finger down, signing I love you.
“You guys are just too cute, aren’t you?” my best friend teases me.
My cheeks burn red, a smile on my face that I can’t shake off.
A power play is set up right next to where we’re sitting. I always find this so interesting. I can hear everything the players say to each other.
“Who’s little girlfriend is there in the green?” someone says.
I know they’re talking about me, so I immediately scan Chris’ face to see what he says. He doesn’t respond, but his jaw is locked and his eyes are burning into the other player.
I watch Chris’ brother, Matt, charge into our view, stealing the puck away and attempting to shoot. It’s another lost cause. This goalie has saved the last 10 shots.
“Oh, Jesus,” my friend groans. “Look at Chris.”
I scan the ice for my boyfriend, finding the number 3 and following his every move. He follows the player with the last name Hart like a shark. I can’t hear anything, but I can see the anger on Chris’ face, and the humor on Hart’s. Finally, I watch Chris hit his breaking point.
With seven minutes left in the game, Chris races across the ice to Hart, despite the fact that his other brother, Nick, is already playing defense on him. Chris slides in front of his brother, cross-checking Hart.
“Are you kidding me?!” I hear a shout from behind me.
Eventually, the area around us erupts in cheers. Students from our school rise on their feet, jumping up and down, cheering on Chris as he picks a fight.
Sticks are thrown, and the referees stand in shock as Chris lays sprawled on top of Hart, regaining his balance before throwing punches at his helmet.
My heart is pounding, but I know better than to react and embarrass him. He knows how to be safe on the ice, and he knows his limits way better than I do. Not to mention, everyone loves Chris. Our school gathers just for him and his brothers, cheering them on at every game. The last thing I want is to embarrass him or his reputation.
“I’LL KILL YOU!” Chris roars, and at that, the referees finally get involved. It’s useless. While two referees hold onto him, another player from the opposing team runs up to defend Hart, throwing a punch at Chris’ jaw.
“Hey!” I find myself jumping up and yelling. I watch as the blood starts to pour from Chris’ nose, and now that there’s blood involved, I feel every bit of anxiety bubbling up in my chest. “Someone do something!”
Chris continues to get nailed, slurring out profanities as he expresses his anger.
“Do NOT talk about her!” he screams one last time as he’s dragged off the ice, his brothers eyeing down everyone else in case it’s their turn to throw a punch.
“Christopher Sturniolo, five minute penalty for fighting,” an announcer says over the speaker, repeating the same spiel for Hart.
I grab my bag and stand from the bleachers. “I’m gonna go meet him outside the locker room.”
I say goodbye to everyone and head to the locker room, wanting to know more about this fight, but more importantly, that he’s okay.
About 20 minutes later I see Chris walking with his coach, his nose mixed with some fresh and some dried blood. When his coach notices me standing outside of the locker room, picking at my fingers, he says, “I’ll see you tomorrow at practice.”
Chris nods, walking right past me and into the locker room. I’ve already seen everyone else leave, so I know it’s safe to go in, but seeing that he completely ignored me, I don’t think a few guys in there would be enough to keep me from entering.
“So you’re just picking fights and ignoring me now?” I scoff.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he mumbles, tearing his padding off and shoving it into his hockey bag.
I watch as he pulls his shirt off, his toned back facing me.
I find myself becoming embarrassingly distracted and forgetting what I’m actually in here for.
“Do you still want dinner?” I ask quietly, my voice timid.
Chris sighs and places his hands on the sides of his locker, the muscles in his back tensing. “Where do you want to go?”
I shrug even though I know he can’t see me. It’s like I’m too nervous to say anything in case he gets mad at me over something that happened during the game.
When I don’t answer, he turns around, finding nothing but concern painted all over my face.
He sighs again, this time one that tells me that he’s sorry without actually saying it. His arms wrap around me, his bare chest bracing my clothed one. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles into my hair as he kisses my head.
“What happened?”
He breathes out a laugh, tossing his shirt into his locker. “Johnny Hart happened, that piece of shit.”
I don’t ask for more information. The dam has now broken and I know the water carrying the information is going to come flooding in.
“He’s known for being a top tier trash talker, but it takes it way too fucking far,” he tells me. “I mean, talking about my family, my girlfriend–Fuck!”
I flinch at the sound of him shouting. “What did he say about me?”
He shakes his head.
“Tell me,” I plead.
“No!” he shouts again. “God, just– Go wait outside. I’ll be out in a minute and we can go get something to eat.”
“I want to know what he said!”
“He’s a dick! Go wait outside,” he demands, but my feet are planted to the floor. I refuse to back down. “Are you seriously going to do this?”
“Yes!” I argue.
“Fine!” he gives in. He takes a deep breath. “He was just saying disgusting things about you the whole time. Talking about your legs, how he wanted to see what you had under your pants.” I watch as his jaw tightens again. “He said he wanted to see if he could make you wetter than I can. That he would take you after the game and pin you against his car… Is that enough for you?”
I can see his face turning red, his anger bleeding out of him. It’s at this moment that I can also see that his face is still a bloody mess, and that matters more to me than what some idiot on the other team has to say about me.
Without a word, I walk to the sinks, grab a rag that has been folded up and get it damp with warm water. I motion for Chris to sit down on a bench in front of his locker, and when he does, I start gently dabbing his mouth with the rag.
He gives me a soft smile, and as cute as that is, my focus is on his bloody teeth.
“Oh, baby,” I mumble. I find a bottle of water buried in his bag so he can rinse his mouth, and continue cleaning his face. “Are your hands okay?”
“Mhm,” he hums. “Had my gloves on.”
I nod, remaining silent as I wipe the blood from his mouth and give him somewhere to spit the bloody water.
“Coach is pissed,” he laughs lightly.
“I’m not surprised.”
“He was already getting on me about my grades, and with this… I gotta get it together or he’s benching me.”
We both know that his coach will fight anyone to make sure Chris stays on the starting team. He’s the best player this college has seen in years.
“I can tutor you again,” I offer. “I have time before work on Friday’s.”
He shakes his head at me. “I don’t want to put that on you.”
“I wouldn’t have offered if it would have been an inconvenience.”
He nods, then rests his hands on my waist, eventually pulling my wrists down to remove my hands from his face.
“I’m sorry,” he says sincerely.
“I know.”
“I just…” his voice trails off. “I can’t stand it when they do that shit. I know you’re a catch because… come on,” he motions his hands at me, making me laugh. “I just can’t sit there and pretend like I’m not bothered by it.”
“I get it,” I assure him, trying to relieve the part of him that feels like he’s letting people down. “Let’s just get those grades up and try to tone back on the fighting, okay?”
He nods, this time smiling with a lot less blood in his teeth. He pulls me down to his level, resting me on his lap before holding my cheeks and kissing me gently. “I love you.”
A smile grows on my face. “I love you more.”
His eyes go wide. “Enough to fight Hart’s girlfriend for me?”
I let out a short laugh. “Let’s go get something to eat.”
#sturniolo triplets#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#nick sturniolo#matt sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x reader
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Look At Me
Bucky Barnes x Female Reader One-Shot: SMUT
Request by @daddy-bucky: one bed trope "with a bit (LOTS & LOTS) of breeding kink."
Summary: Bucky gets exposed to a chemical compound that heightens his already above-average sense of smell. Then he's stuck sharing a bed with the girl he's nearly fucked on more than one occasion.
Warnings: profanity, dubcon (noncon? if you look too close?), slight thigh fucking, unprotected sex, somnophilia, heavy breeding kink, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Word Count: 7.5k
A/N: This one took me a few days because I got a bit of writer's block around the time the smut started. Thanks to @daddy-bucky for this unhinged request, specifically for the part where you requested that he be feral, apologizing but can't stop himself, and for mentioning that he can smell her ovulating. You are unhinged and I love it.
There are worse things than a mission going sideways. There are worse things than being stuck in a safehouse overnight. There are even worse things than being hunted down by a few thugs from a HYDRA offshoot. But you’re sure that there isn’t anything worse than being shut in with a man that you’ve nearly slept with on more than one occasion.
You stand in front of the bathroom mirror, splashing cold water on your face as you try to come up with a way to make it through the night. You’re a four-hour drive away from the compound, and a five-hour drive away from the nearest SHIELD base. The safest option you had was to head to the closest safehouse and tuck in until morning, with a handful of modern-day HYDRA operatives hot on your heels. You start toweling your face dry and running through all of the mistakes that were made today.
The first mistake was believing that the intel you received about the new HYDRA facility was accurate, without doing the recon yourself. You were told that the facility is empty three days a week, only in operation from Monday through Thursday. That’s why you and Bucky staged your break-in for today, a Friday. Your second mistake was letting Bucky follow you into the lab, instead of having him stay at the door and keep watch. You don’t know what possessed him to take his own look around, to start reading the labels on the various vials located in glass refrigeration units and on benchtops throughout the room. Your third mistake was tucking your gun into your thigh holster while you searched through the lab’s computer, looking for the identification number of one specific compound that you were sent to retrieve. If you hadn’t holstered your gun, you wouldn’t have been caught off guard when a night guard came bursting through the door, pointing his weapon right between your eyes. If you hadn’t holstered your gun, you would’ve been able to shoot the guy yourself. Bucky wouldn’t have shoved you hard enough to send you crashing into one of the little glass refrigeration units in an attempt to get you out of the line of fire, before killing the guy himself. The shot leaving Bucky’s gun didn’t even register in your mind as you watched the glass door shatter and the vials inside shake around on the shelves. As you steadied yourself and shot Bucky an annoyed look, you didn’t notice the vial full of pale pink liquid was the only one that had broken and spilled.
“Are you okay?” Bucky asked gruffly, grabbing you by the forearm and pulling you away from the broken glass. You nodded quickly, feeling perfectly fine after being seconds away from having either a bullet in your head or shards of glass in your skin.
“I’m fine, just help me find the vial labeled 012-6A, so we can get out of here.” You double-checked the ID number on the computer screen one last time as Bucky stepped around you and began rifling through the refrigeration unit that you’d just been shoved into.
Bucky wouldn’t have known that he inhaled enough manganese to cause hyperosmia. He noticed the pink liquid spread over the surface of one of the shelves as he stepped in close and read over the various labels on the vials that were still intact, but he assumed you’d already seen the spill and since you didn’t mention it, it must not have been a big deal. In truth, even if you’d seen it and been able to properly identify it as a manganese compound, you would’ve written it off as being a minor incident. You’d have to be continuously exposed to it, inhaling large quantities of it over time to really be in any sort of major danger. A little sniff in a lab accident wouldn’t send either one of you to the hospital.
However, one of the known side effects of inhaling manganese is significantly increased olfactory perception, or to put it plainly: a heightened sense of smell. You might be able to smell the cleaners used on the lab floors or the wet dirt stuck in the treads of your tactical boots, if you’d inhaled the manganese. But Bucky, already having a heightened sense of smell from the super soldier serum coursing through his veins, would soon be able to smell everything.
After finding vial 012-6A, the two of you were tailed from the moment you left the compound until Bucky started weaving in and out of traffic, doing everything he could to shake the tail. You notified Fury and Sam of the situation and within minutes, you had an address to a safehouse and were on your way.
Bucky carefully folds out the couch bed, watching the thin mattress unfurl before him. It might just be the most uncomfortable looking bed he’s ever seen, but it’s not like he ever sleeps much anyway. You, however, are in for a rough night. Before you went to shower, you found a set of sheets and a quilt tucked away in a closet and set them out. Bucky begins making the bed but something isn’t quite right. As he lays the flat sheet over the fitted one and begins tucking the corners at the foot of the mattress, he starts to wonder why the he can smell the metal springs beneath. The metallic scent is strong, as if he’s pressed his nose right against the springs and inhaled as hard as he could. He stands up straight and sniffs the air, instantly overwhelmed by the plethora of smells circulating in the air. What the hell is going on?
When you emerge from the bathroom a moment later, you find Bucky standing in the middle of the tiny house, running a hand through his hair and looking a bit bewildered.
“Bucky?” You call his name softly, slowly crossing the room and eyeing the bed that he’s made up for you both. He keeps his gaze trained on the floor, not even acknowledging your presence. “Bucky, what’s going on?” You try again.
“Everything smells really strong.” He answers dryly, still not looking up at you. You narrow your eyes at him and start scanning his features, looking for any clues as to what might be going on.
“What do you mean? Don’t things always smell really strong to you?”
“Not like this, this is…I can smell your shampoo.” He says. His blue eyes flit up, meeting your gaze and holding it.
“What did you touch in the lab?” You ask suddenly, already leaping into action. You sit on the side of the couch bed and reach for your bag that sits on the floor, dragging it over to your feet. You rummage around for your laptop, fishing it out as soon as it hits your fingertips.
“I didn’t touch anything.” Bucky promises, shaking his head. He takes a couple of steps back, away from the bed, as if he can’t stand the smell of your shampoo or whatever else he smells on you. You begin typing quickly, working to open a secure video call line to Bruce Banner. “There was a spill, in that fridge I pushed you into.” He remembers, recalling the liquid that was spread over the shelf.
“Did you breathe it in?” You cast him a glance over your shoulder as you sit and wait for Bruce to join the video call.
“No, I mean, I don’t know. There wasn’t an odor, it didn’t feel like I breathed anything in.”
“What color was it?” You ask, already narrowing down the list of chemicals in your head based on the fact that it was odorless.
“Pink, clear.” Bucky answers. He’s rubbing the back of his neck as you wrack your brain. Pink, clear, odorless, hyperosmia-inducing. You have a theory, but you need Bruce to confirm. Your shoulders relax as your mind begins to realize that the chances of the chemical having been life-threatening are very low. There aren’t very many chemicals out there that are known to cause hyperosmia, and the ones that do are really only dangerous in large amounts. Bruce’s face appears on your laptop screen and relief washes over you.
“Hey, I have a few questions for you.” You say kindly, smiling at the scientist that you’ve grown familiar with. Bruce smiles back at you and Bucky catches himself narrowing his eyes and wondering how close the two of you actually are.
“Shoot.”
“There was a spill in the lab, Bucky may have inhaled something odorless, a pink aqueous solution. It’s causing hyperosmia, he says he can smell my shampoo from across the room.”
“More than his usual hyperosmia?” Bruce questions thoughtfully.
“Yes.” You and Bucky both respond in unison. You look over your shoulder at him again and notice how uneasy he looks, how he’s being sure to keep his distance from you. “I’m thinking it’s some sort of manganese compound.” You guess, turning your attention back to Bruce.
“You’re probably right. Just be on the lookout for any symptoms that would suggest otherwise, but if it was a small spill and he only inhaled a minimal amount of vapor from it, I wouldn’t be too concerned. The only worry I would have would be not knowing how manganese might react with the serum, but I can do some research on it and let you know what I find.” Bruce pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and crosses his arms over his chest.
“That’s what I was thinking. We’ll let you know if anything else develops, just send me whatever you find.” After a few more exchanges between the two of you, you end the call and shove your laptop back into your bag. Bucky remains across the room, watching you carefully, like he’s afraid to get too close.
What you don’t know, is that Bucky can’t just smell your shampoo. He can smell you. Your hair, your skin, your everything. You leave him be and head to the tiny kitchen connected to the living room, in search of a glass of water. Bucky inhales deeply through his mouth, trying to avoid smelling anything, but your scent lingers in the air and it’s suffocating. He’s going to have to sleep in the car just to get away from it.
---
“Bucky, you’re not sleeping in the damn car and neither am I. There’s a reason we’re stuck in this safehouse, we’re staying put.” Your tone is stern as you stand blocking the door. Bucky sighs heavily. He knows he could easily move you out of his way, but he also knows he’s treading dangerous waters already. The two of you have always had an indescribable tension, a palpable energy between you. One drunken night a month ago, you nearly fucked. You were drunk, he wasn’t, but he might as well have been with the way he lost his self-control when you leaned into him and rested your hands against his abs. The heated makeout session that ensued was electric, with your back pushed up against a wall in whatever bar the team had been hanging out in that night. The only reason you didn’t go through with it was because the grating sound of John Walker’s voice echoed down the dimly lit back hall right before he turned the corner and saw you pushing Bucky away. Only a week after that, Bucky caught you staring him down in the gym, clearly enjoying the sight of him shirtless and sweating as he threw punches at the bag. An hour later he had your lips against his in the elevator, desperately kissing and licking as much of the skin of your jaw and neck as he could before the elevator reached the main living floor. He would’ve taken you right there if the elevator was any slower. The third and final time was a week and a half ago, when, during an undercover mission, you both seemed to have trouble keeping your hands off of each other. Your covers gave you an excuse to be a little handsy, but continuing to be handsy the entire drive back to the compound wasn’t quite so excused. You were so distracted that you didn’t notice the car following you, not until Redwing picked up on it and Sam alerted you both. That was the night you both decided to stop whatever it was that was going on between you. It was dangerous and addictive and it only served as a distraction in the field. So, you stopped it before it ever truly began.
Bucky moves around to the opposite side of the bed, shooting you a moody look before tugging his shirt off and baring his chest. Your eyes drift down to the dog tags that hang around his neck as he starts pushing his pants down his legs. Suddenly he’s standing there wearing nothing but boxers and dog tags, and your mouth is damn near watering.
“You’re sleeping in that?” You ask incredulously, gesturing at his distinct lack of clothing. Bucky chuckles and pulls the sheet and quilt back, sliding under the covers with ease. The thin mattress curves down to support his weight and the springs creak loudly.
“You’re sleeping in that, so you can’t complain.” He mimics your gesture as he refers to your oversized t-shirt and lack of pants. It isn’t your fault. You didn’t have much in your bag, this was never supposed to be an overnight trip. You sigh as you sit on your own side of the bed, turning your back to Bucky. He turns off the lamp beside the couch and the room is cast into darkness.
While you’re sitting on the side of the bed, reminding yourself why the two of you decided to leave each other alone, Bucky’s lying on his back, breathing through his mouth. He can still smell you. The vanilla scent of your shampoo makes him want to bury his face in your hair and inhale as deeply as he possibly can, it smells so fucking sweet.
An hour later, you’re sound asleep next to Bucky, with your back facing him and the sound of your soft, steady breathing filling the quiet space. Every single minute that’s gone by since you slid under the covers next to him has be spent actively trying to ignore the smells in the air. First, all he really noticed was your shampoo. After fifteen minutes of lying next to you, he could smell the lotion you put on your legs that morning. Ten minutes later, he was ready to bust down the damn door to get to the car. He could smell you. Something so distinctive, something that was sending his entire body into overdrive with every breath he inhaled.
Now Bucky lies there, clenching his jaw and covering his face with both hands in an attempt to stifle the scent that he’s trying to pretend isn’t there. He’d have already gotten out of the bed and locked himself in the bathroom, the closet, or even a fucking kitchen cupboard if the bed springs weren’t so damn loud. He can’t make a move that big without waking you up, so he remains frozen. It’s not until Bucky hears you whimper in your sleep that he pulls his hands away from his face and turns his head to look in your direction. Though the scent of your unconscious arousal is affecting him so strongly, the sound you made momentarily redirects some of the bloodflow away from his cock, toward his head. The tone to your whimper was fearful. It escapes your lips again and Bucky watches as you begin to shake beside him. Fuck. Of course you have nightmares. You’re so similar in so many other ways, he should’ve assumed you were plagued the same way that he is.
As your eyes dart back and forth rapidly beneath your closed eyelids, your breathing quickens more and more until your body begins to feel deprived of oxygen. That’s when you wake up, gasping for air, in full fight-or-flight mode. You’re on your side, grasping the quilt in your left hand and desperately searching the darkness around you for anything familiar.
Without thinking, Bucky rolls onto his side and slides his vibranium hand over your hip. Though he can’t feel it, your shirt has ridden up above your thighs and his hand lands partially on the waistband of your panties and partially on your skin. You tense at his touch initially, still trying to figure out where the hell you are, but that touch is something familiar. Your mind latches onto it, and suddenly you’re remembering the last three times you felt it. Vibranium against your skin, his lips on yours, every nerve ending in your body firing at the same time. It’s familiar, so familiar that you relax after a couple of seconds and lean back. Your back brushes against his chest and his grip on your hip tightens a barely noticeable amount as he realizes you’re moving. He doesn’t want you to move back too far and find out that he has a full-blown erection while you’re recovering from a nightmare, but he also doesn’t want to stop you from finding comfort.
“You’re safe.” He whispers close to your ear, taking in the scent of your shampoo once again. His eyes close as the vanilla temporarily covers up the smell that’s been driving him insane for the past hour. “We’re in a safehouse.” He assures you. Your breathing begins to slow and your shaking limbs calm as you move your left hand. You release your grip on the sheets and slide it beneath the covers, running your palm over the crevices of his vibranium hand. So familiar.
“I’m sorry I woke you.” You apologize softly, taking in a shaky breath and flattening your hand over his metal one.
“I wasn’t asleep.” Though you know how he operates in the field, how he likes to be kissed, how infuriating he can be when he insists on doing things his way, you don’t know much about his sleeping habits…or lack thereof. Suddenly, the evening’s mission comes flooding back into your mind. You remember him being exposed to something and experiencing hyperosmia, with you and Bruce only being able to speculate about the chemical he inhaled. You make a move to look over your shoulder at him and when you do, your body almost enough to let your ass make contact with his crotch. He squeezes your hip so hard that you almost peel his vibranium fingers off of you.
“Shit, Bucky.” You speak through clenched teeth as he holds you firmly in place against the mattress. “What are you—”
“Don’t move.” He groans. The tone of his voice is one you’ve heard once before, when you were licking and sucking the skin along the column of his throat in the elevator that day. Instead of listening to his clear command, you try to wiggle an inch or two away from him, as if that would help the situation, but it only makes Bucky’s problem more obvious. His hard cock is straining against the fabric of his black boxers, and as you move your hips once again, it brushes against your ass and you feel it. You feel it and you freeze. “Fuck.” Another groan leaves his lips and you feel your cheeks heat up. Your nightmare from moments ago is forgotten.
“Is it…is it from what you inhaled earlier? Tell me what you’re feeling.” The words come tumbling out of you with urgency as you grow more and more worried.
“Yeah. No. It’s just—fuck.” Bucky swears again, exhaling quickly and then inhaling through his mouth. “You smell so goddamn good, I don’t know what to do with myself.” You’re both silent, so silent that you can hear the way he’s mouth-breathing just so he doesn’t have to overwhelm himself with your scent.
“Bucky—”
“You saying my name only makes this worse.” His grip on your hip tightens slightly and you try to keep your own breathing shallow, so you won’t be moving even a centimeter more than necessary.
“What can I do to help?” You ask quietly. What can you do to help? Bucky bites his lip. Your question is so innocent, so kind, and yet all he can think about is actually letting you do the one thing that would help him right now.
“Let me sleep in the car.” He sighs. You can tell he’s struggling, you can tell he’s in need, and as much as you hate that he’s in that kind of position, you can’t help but feel a little excited about the fact that he’s in it with you.
“You know why that’s a stupid idea. What else can I do?” While you’re lying there in front of him, offering your help, Bucky’s squeezing his eyes shut as he remembers the taste of your lips and the skillful way that you ran your hand along his thigh in the car after that one mission, letting your fingertips just barely skim over his bulge. He remembers every fucking detail of the way you kiss and the memories paired with the fact that your ass is still pressed against him make him feel as though all control is slipping away from him.
“Remind me why I can’t have you.” His request takes you by surprise. It takes a moment for your mind to gather the words that will give him what he wants.
“We work together.” Three words? That’s all you can come up with? With his cock pressing against your ass, your mind is going on strike.
“We work together.” Bucky repeats. That’s a shit reason, sure as hell not a good enough reason to get him to let go of your hip.
“It’d ruin our working relationship.” You try again, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath in.
“It would.” Bucky agrees. Your reasons really aren’t even registering in his mind. He’s loosening his hold on your hip but instead of letting go completely, he starts dragging a vibranium fingertip along the waistband of your panties, almost absentmindedly. Your breath hitches in your throat when his fingertip ghosts over your lower stomach, but he slowly drags it back to your hip. He loves the way your body responds to even the slightest of touches.
“It could end horribly.” You point out, trying to keep your breathing steady as he continues tracing the waistband of your panties.
“It could.” He says with a small nod. Bucky doesn’t think as he leans in and presses his lips against the side of your neck. One kiss. One deep inhale. Another kiss. Another deep inhale. You catch yourself arching your back the tiniest bit, pressing your ass against him more.
“There isn’t a single good reason for us to do this.” It’s the last thing you can think of. Bucky pulls his lips away from your neck and his hand stills on your hip.
“There isn’t. It would be a pretty bad decision.” He acknowledges. That’s when you feel him adjust his legs and grind into you. “We might end up hating each other.”
“We can’t have that.” You tsk, biting into your bottom lip after the words leave your mouth. Neither one of you has enough self-control to separate at this point.
“You can have whatever the fuck you want.”
The soft whimper that leaves your lips at the undeniably filthy sentence he’s just spoken against your ear makes him grind into you harder. He can’t think straight when you make noises like that, when you smell like you do. Fuck. You don’t say a word, so he slides his vibranium hand down your thigh and wraps it around your knee, hitching your leg back and over his own. Once he has you a little more spread and leaning even more into his space, he grinds against you from the new angle. You feel his erection against your clothed cunt and the already wet fabric between your legs gets a little more soaked.
“I thought you just agreed that this would ruin our working relationship.” You whine. Please don’t stop, please don’t stop, please don’t stop. Though you sound like you’re being reasonable, your mind is anything but.
“I’m thinking about ruining something right now.” He grumbles against the side of your neck, nipping at your skin.
“We can’t do this.” You say firmly, reaching your left hand down to pull his vibranium one away from your leg that’s still hitched over his thigh. When your palm glides over the now warm metal, you can’t seem to push his hand away. Instead, you intertwine your fingers with his and fight to hold in the moans that are threatening to spill from your lips if he keeps grinding against you the way that he is.
“I know, baby, we can’t.” Bucky groans, rutting into you a little harder and faster, as if he’s trying to get just a little more pleasure out of this before it ends.
“We can’t.” You repeat. Why your hand lets go of his and moves to reach over your shoulder and tangle in his hair is beyond you. Why you pull him further against your neck, encouraging him to kiss and lick you even more is lost on you. Why you don’t do a damn thing to stop what’s currently happening can only be chalked up to how badly you’ve wanted him to fuck you since the first time you kissed him in that bar. Bucky doesn’t dare to say a single word more. He isn’t going to risk talking a little too much sense into you. So, he starts sucking on your neck, leaving obvious marks as you whimper and moan out those sweet, irresistible little noises that have him wanting to fuck you ten different ways.
Bucky’s holding onto the tiniest thread of self-control, it’s all he has left, a damn thread. Every single one of his senses is overwhelmed as he grinds himself against your barely clothed body and tastes the skin of your neck.
“We’re not doing this.” Bucky sounds so resolved, but even as he speaks the claim, he’s pushing your leg off of where it was hitched over his own and guiding you onto your stomach. He doesn’t want you on your stomach, fuck no. He wants you in any position where he can see the faces you make when he buries himself inside of you for the first time, when he starts fucking you the way you’ve needed to be fucked for weeks now, when he cums inside of you. But Bucky knows if he has the privilege of seeing your face through all of that, he won’t ever be able to look at you the same way. He won’t ever be able to go back to working with you in the field. It would ruin your working relationship just like you said. So, he makes sure you’re on your stomach when he starts pushing your shirt up and running his palms along the skin of your back. There isn’t a hint of protest from you as your back arches against his hands and your ass raises up ever so slightly. Even as Bucky begins tugging your panties down your thighs, not a damn word.
Your scent. Your fucking scent. As soon as he has your panties halfway down your thighs, he knows why he couldn’t resist you. You’re ovulating, and he can smell it, the pheromones, just radiating off of you.
“Fuck.” Bucky groans headily. He completely abandons his effort to tug your panties any further than your knees as he rolls on top of you and gets his cock in just the right position to slide between your legs. His hard shaft presses against your wet cunt as he lowers himself onto you and lets his length move between your upper thighs. “You’re already so wet, fuck.”
It only takes a second for you to have Bucky’s entire cock soaked with your arousal, and he hasn’t even been inside you yet. You can’t stop yourself from arching your back and pressing your ass up and into him as he teases you, dragging his length back and forth along your cunt but never giving himself the chance to slide in.
“Bucky…” His name leaves your lips as a needy moan and you don’t have to say another word. You don’t have to ask him to do it. He braces himself with his forearms on either side of your head, his knees on either side of your legs, and lets you shuffle your own knees until they’re underneath you enough to raise your ass off of the bed. A breathy whimper escapes you as a shiver runs down your spine.
“If you keep saying my name, I won’t be able to pull out when I need to.” Bucky warns you, just as you feel the head of his cock teasing your entrance. You think he’s about to push in, when he lets his cock slip away from your entrance and run lazily through your folds. He does it repeatedly, letting it rub against your clit over and over again, listening as your breaths come in more and more ragged at the stimulation.
“Shit, you’re right. You’re not wearing a condom.” You point out in a rare moment of clarity. Bucky chuckles and uses one hand to move your hair away from your neck, before leaning down as pressing a kiss there. You push your forehead into the pillow, muffling the soft moan that you can’t hold back.
“I’m not wearing a condom.” Bucky repeats, as if he means to say that he wouldn’t wear one even if he happened to have one.
“You’re not wearing a—” You’re cut off by Bucky thrusting half of his length into you so suddenly and forcefully that the rest of your sentence disappears from your mind entirely and your hands move to grip his wrists beside your head. You dig your nails into him without realizing as your muscles tense and you press your face into the pillow once again.
“That’s it, get used to it.” Bucky encourages you. It’s such a simple thing to say yet it sounds so filthy coming from him in this moment. It is filthy. He takes a moment for himself, focusing on how tightly your pussy is gripping the first few inches of his cock, how your arousal is basically dripping down his shaft as he lets you adjust to him. That little thread of self-control he was holding onto earlier has frayed more and more and he can’t stop himself from forcing the rest of himself inside of you, until his balls are pressing against you and you’re screaming into the pillow.
“It’s too much, oh my god, it’s too much.” You moan out as you lift your face from the pillow and rest your chin on it instead. You don’t dare to try and look over your shoulder at him, you can barely move without feeling the sting of his cock stretching your entrance.
“No, no it’s just an adjustment.” Bucky coos, pressing another kiss to the back of your neck and inhaling the sweet vanilla scent of your hair. “You’re taking it so well already, just relax for me.”
Your body listens to him. You feel yourself relaxing. First, your hold on his wrists eases until you’re no longer leaving nail marks in his skin. Then, you let out a deep exhale and sink into the mattress beneath him. Bucky’s in awe of you. He knows he’s big, and he knows it’s probably been a while since you’ve slept with anyone with the way work keeps you busy near 24/7. You really are taking him so well. He starts dragging his length out of you slowly, but only a third of the way before he’s pushing it back into you again. The wet sound that results makes him fucking feral. He does it again. Then again. And again. The next thing he knows, he’s holding your hips with your ass up in the air and your face down on your folded forearms as he fucks you so hard that the springs of the couch bed are threatening to snap. With every loud creak of the springs, there’s an equally loud sound of skin smacking against skin. It’s animalistic, the way he’s fucking you.
“Fuck, I’m so close.” You whimper. You bite into your forearm, surely leaving a mark, as he sets a tortuously pleasuring pace. You can feel him reaching a spot inside you no one has ever reached before and it has your eyes rolling back in your head.
“I know, fuck.” Bucky says breathlessly. He pounds into you over and over again, chasing his own release as he feels the walls of your pussy fluttering around him. You’re right there and he can tell. “Cum on my cock, so I can pull out and cum all over your fucking back.” He groans, sounding so damn needy. You can’t think straight. You’re definitely not thinking straight. That’s the only reason you say what you say next.
“No, I’m not cumming if you’re going to pull out.” You say defiantly, actively fighting to hold back your orgasm. Bucky thrusts into you even harder, letting you know that he most definitely likes the sound of not pulling out. He leans down until his chest is pressed against your back and he’s close enough to whisper against your ear.
“You’re going to make me cum inside you when you’re fucking ovulating?”
“How do you—”
“I can fucking smell you.” He rasps against your ear. “Answer me. You really want me to do this?”
You don’t even take a moment to think about it, not a single moment to consider the possible consequence.
“Please.”
It’s only a few hard, deep thrusts later when Bucky’s rhythm grows sloppy and he gives you every single drop of cum he has, fucking it all into you almost recklessly. With every last thrust into your cunt, he’s fully aware that he could be getting you pregnant. He’s fully aware, and yet, he doesn’t have a single fuck to give.
---
It’s the smell of your arousal mixed with his cum, dripping out of you and into your panties, that wakes Bucky around midnight. It’s only been a couple of hours since he was buried deep inside of you but it feels like it could’ve been days ago with how hard his cock is right now. He reaches beneath the covers, palming his erection through the fabric of his boxers as he listens to your steady breaths. You’re sleeping so soundly beside him, with your back turned to him and the covers pulled up just past your waist.
A few key thoughts run through Bucky’s head as he lets his hand run along his clothed length. How serious is this to you? Have you wanted him as badly as he’s wanted you since that night in the bar? Is it just physical for you? A surface level attraction that you momentarily gave into because he was horny and shoving his cock against your ass in a shared bed? But you let him cum inside of you, while you’re ovulating. When your body is fully ready and capable of beginning a pregnancy, you let him pump an entire load into you without a hint of hesitation. You didn’t just let him, you said please. Bucky’s suddenly pushing his boxers down his thighs for the second time tonight, wrapping his fist around his length, and rolling over to face you.
He doesn’t think there’s ever been a better scent than the one emanating from between your legs right now. He can picture the way his cum is swirled together with your arousal right now, probably threatening to soak through the thin fabric of your panties and drip down the soft skin of your thighs until it reaches the bedsheets beneath you. It’s that thought that spurs Bucky on, that makes him tug your panties to the side and press a gentle kiss to the side of your neck as he guides his cock between your legs. The moment he feels the warmth of his own cum from earlier drip from your folds to coat his shaft, he starts mumbling against your skin.
“I need you.” He whispers into your neck, fighting the urge to bite into your skin as the head of his cock notches inside of you and begins to slide in. “Wake up.” Your eyes flutter open just as the head of his cock has fully entered you and the rest of his shaft is following. A raspy swear escapes your lips as your back arches and you start to tense up at the sudden intrusion. Bucky’s vibranium hand flies to your hip, stilling you as he continues pushing in.
“Oh my god.” It’s all you can say as he bottoms out inside you and immediately starts pulling his hips back. He sets a much slower pace than last time, rhythmically fucking you sideways. “I’m sore.” You whimper, turning your head slightly to muffle your moans in your pillow, just like you did earlier.
“I’m sorry, I know.” Bucky groans against your neck, continuing to thrust in and out of you. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” He can’t stop. He can’t make his hips still, he can’t pull out of you and let you recover. He just fucking can’t. He fucks you as gently as he can, using his own cum from earlier as lube. With every slow thrust, your soreness dissipates more and more and pleasure begins to replace it. When he cums inside you the second time, it’s without warning, without one single worry about pulling out. He just does it and expects you to take it…which of course, you do.
---
You wake up two hours later, with aching thighs and the slightest hint of a burn on your neck from Bucky’s scruff. As you lie there in the darkness, listening to the sound of Bucky breathing softly mere inches behind you, feeling the excessive amount of cum pooling in your panties, you only seem to be able to think about one thing. Both times that he’s fucked you, he did it from behind. You didn’t get to see his face once. Not once did you get to see how he reacted when he felt the walls of your pussy clenching around him, the face he made when you told him you didn’t want him to pull out, or the way his eyes screwed shut and his mouth fell open when he was cumming. You’ve been deprived of it.
Why does it bother you so much that he hasn’t looked in your eyes either of the two times he’s fucked you? Is he trying to pretend you’re someone else? As tears begin to rim the edges of your eyes, you tell yourself that you’re just being emotional because you’re ovulating. God. You wouldn’t have even known you were ovulating if he hadn’t told you himself.
Truthfully, you’re not even horny. Yet, you find yourself rolling over as quietly as possible, making sure the bed springs don’t creak beneath you. You’re silent as you tug your panties down your legs and toss them onto the floor. You’re even more quiet as you pull the covers back just enough to let you stealthily straddle Bucky’s hips, making sure you don’t touch him yet. Who knew this is what you’d be using all of your professional training for?
He begins to stir when your fingertips graze over his lower stomach. He draws in a deep breath as you tug his waistband down and free his already hard cock from the confines of his boxers. His eyes are blinking open, studying the sight before him as you wrap your hand around his shaft and stroke it firmly. That’s when he comes to his senses and his gaze lands on your face.
“Shit.” He breathes out as you sink down onto his length with determination. Your face. He can see your face. The way your features contort as you try to fit all of him in at this new angle is ruining him. This is exactly what he didn’t need to see, so he tries to talk some sense into you. “You’ll be too sore if we do this again, three times is too many.” Bucky says quietly, running his hands up your thighs to grab onto your hips. You’re only an inch from being fully seated on his cock when he holds you still, not letting you slide down any further. He doesn’t want it, you think. What man tries to stop a girl when she’s already sitting on his dick? He just wanted to fuck you in the dark, with your face invisible to him, and then he wanted to be done with you. Tears well up in your eyes a little more and you dare to look down at him. His gaze coasts from where you’re both connected, up the front of your t-shirt, to your face. That’s when he sees the watery layer over your pretty irises.
“Just let me do this.” You plead, pushing his hands away from your hips and taking in the last inch of his length. Bucky inhales sharply and screws his eyes shut as your tight, wet cunt envelopes his cock completely. He can’t deny you. He can’t deny you, so it’s his turn to fist the sheets as you start moving your hips. You alternate between sliding up and down the entirety of his length and grinding in deep, slow circles when he’s fully sheathed inside you. Even as a tear falls from your face and lands on his bare chest, he doesn’t open his eyes.
“Fuck, fuck, I’m already so close.” He groans, lifting his hands and covering his face with them. He wants nothing more than to roll you over and fuck you missionary. He wants to rail you into the mattress until its deformed and concaved to fit your body. He wants to pin you down and look into your eyes as he fills you for the third time.
“Look at me.” You whisper, moving your hips a little faster. Up and down, up and down, up and down. Bucky groans beneath his hands, and reluctantly removes them from his face, resting them on your thighs once more. His eyes focus between your legs again, but after a couple of seconds his lifts his gaze to meet yours.
“How do you still look so damn pretty after taking my cock the first two times?” He asks with a pained groan. You know he can’t possibly have much to give you after the first two times, but you’ll be damned if you’re not going to take what you can get. You start bouncing on his cock with increasing desperation, chasing your own orgasm. “You even look pretty with tears in your eyes.” He says with a softer tone.
Right as Bucky nears the edge, you feel his cock twitching, you feel his abs tighten beneath your hands, and you lean down. Your nose brushes against his and for a second, you think about kissing him.
“You know why I didn’t want to see your face?” He asks, his ability to form a complete sentence surprising even him. He pushes your hair back, cupping your cheeks in his hands as you continue riding his cock. “Because I knew I’d memorize the way you look when you’re stuffed full of my cock, and I didn’t think I’d ever be able to look at you the same way again.”
“So you were okay with potentially getting me pregnant but not with looking me in the eye?” You ask incredulously, your hips slowing. Bucky groans and thrusts up into you impatiently.
“Don’t talk about being pregnant, fuck.” He thrusts up again and a smile plays on your lips. His hands move from your face down to your waist as he starts setting a pace.
“Bucky, you fucked me raw. You came inside me twice. I’m probably halfway to pregnant right now and you’re about to do it all over again. We can’t talk about it?”
In the blink of an eye, Bucky’s rolling you over, making sure his cock stays inside of you as he lays you on your back and immediately starts thrusting into you.
“Fine.” He grunts, pushing your thighs up to your chest and draping your legs over his shoulders. He buries himself in you deeper and deeper with every snap of his hips. “I’ll look you in the eye right now while I make sure you’re so full of my cum that there’s no fucking way you aren’t pregnant. Is that what you want?”
“Fuck yes.” You moan out as he pounds into you. Within seconds, you’re a panting mess on the couch bed and Bucky’s staring down at you with a passionate, determined look in his eye.
“Look at me when I’m cumming inside you.” He commands. “Look at me when I’m getting you fucking pregnant.”
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#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x you#mcu#marvel#the winter soldier#winter soldier
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