#of all the fucking things to complain about right now
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ok but how about a dom reader whos always busy (workaholic and shi) x an always clingy n touchy sub yan.
like. reader is never at home. and when he finally come back ends up doesn't paying that much attention to yan, sayin 'im too tired' or going to his home office. eventually being followed by yan cause omfg poor boy is basically starving for a little bit of attention. he still declines yan's pleadings tho
then one day this man shows up earlier and completely EAGER for his yan. idk what more can i say. breeding? degradation? daddy kink? dumbification? what could happen when theyre feeling so fucking needy for each other?
(also i love your writing so so much!!!!!!! <3
workaholic male reader, clingy sub yandere ^ rambles. euugh
dumbification works w either imo, reader fucking lover til hes stupid while simultaneously fucking his lover stupid?!
amab//domtop reader/subbot yandere, cw;; breeding, daddy kink, dumbification xd wanna rework this into a more ,,, eloquent fic. soon. have been busy. i really liked this idea so. will do on my own soon.
workaholic you, growing super distant… obviously making your lover paranoid. because what if you're cheating on him? you aren't, of course - he knows that, but he cant stop those kinds of thoughts from popping into his mind…!!! humping your pillow to ease himself while ur at work, watching the camera feed of you in your office… sigh…. often hearing the dreaded words accompanied by a soft simple pat on his back - not even a kiss... "sorry... please, baby, not right now. i'm too tired." he sobs himself to sleep, knowing you're only providing for him,,,, it hurts!!!
all his worries wash away when you arrive home earlier than usual! concerned, but all the more happy to see you appear in the doorway of your home… breathing ragged, looking all dark and mysterious,,,, the mere sight of you looking all deranged makes him hot and bothered. ignoring the way his dick twitches to life, uhmㅡ
"honey? why are you home so early, sweetheart?” draping himself across your front in a very affectionate hug. he couldnt help himself-! and, much to his delight you were not pushing him awayㅡand practically throwing yourself onto him?!?! hh..h.hh...
there you were,,, grasping his face in your hands, pressing your lips against his so hungrilyㅡ “i need youㅡneed you. need you.” expressing your apparent neediness over and over as you bury your face in the crook of his neck ㅡ he was startled, but so fucking eager to comply? feeling the way your boner presses against him? you were that eager for him just as he is you???,,,,, he nearly faints. tearing up with a now raging erectionㅡ “please, baby, i need you - i need you reallyㅡreally badly-” so fucking happy as he completely smothers you in his love,,,
you don't need to tell him twice,,, throwing the front door closed…,,, leading him to the bedroom, covering his face in kissesㅡeven when there was a perfectly good couch right there to make love on. he won't complain,,,, hes gotten used to the null feeling of toys...,,, so, feeling the very loving embrace of your dick filling him up overstimulates him rather.,,, quickly!!! thinking about how truly awful you are to neglect this pretty litte thing, how could you? so, so very awful.
your darling little lover sobbing on your cock… he's so beautiful - experiencing his love and affection for the first time in forever? berating yourself for being so distant,,, pouring all your frustration at yourself into his flexing taut hole,,,, “mm-misssed you… s-so mu-uch daddy-!” he doesn't seem to catch what he just moaned… too drunk on the feeling of your cock pistoning in and out of him - it feels otherwordly?!
and, i mean. going along with it. with ease, because he deserves everything. especially, anything for your darling lover who just wants affection, your love!!! laughing breathlessly as you piston your hips against his, nuzzling your nose into the side of his head - peppering his face in kisses, “daddy's right here, sweet thing - n-never leaving again, y'hear?” it was… a little odd, but fitting. afterall, you're pumping load after load - breeding him. obviously you'd be the daddy in this situation…,,,,
#“clingy touchy yandere”#x male reader#x top male reader#x dom male reader#male reader#top male reader#dom male reader#yandere x male reader#yandere male x reader#sub yandere x male reader
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can you do the they catch you read something spicy with kaeya, xiao and alhaitham?
THEY CATCH YOU SEEING/READING SOMETHING SPICY. 𝜗𝜚
(´∀｀*)ε｀ ) ౨ৎ N–sfw content !! ; Dom!Kaeya, Xiao, Alhaitham + Fem n M(Xiao's part)!Reader ➜ cws: Modern au, riding, spanking. ᡴꪫ
꒰ঌ 𝐊𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐚 ໒꒱ — 🪦
He'd tease you about it so much I bet. He was working on a paper and saw you were focused on your phone. He got up, curious on what you were reading with so much focus that you're not doing the papers that are to be submitted tomorrow. You let out a shriek after noticing him behind you,
“Woah..are you into those type of things? interesting, Y/N. Why not try it, hm? given you're so red about it.” He coos, climbing on the couch, taking the phone away, “Welp, there goes our paper. Do think of the excuse we're gonna give.”
꒰ঌ 𝐗𝐢𝐚𝐨 ໒꒱ — 🪦
He would be crazy blushing. He decided to go to your room to play games, but God damn, what the hell. You were watching hentai. And it wasn't some normal type too, fuck, how down bad were you?
“Dude, what the fuck are you doing?? yikes..”
Well this guy is fucked because you're already leading him to the bed, ass presented to you as his face faces the laptop. Let's just say Xiao couldn't walk the next day nor could he go out, especially with those visible ass bite marks.
꒰ঌ 𝐀𝐥 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐦 ໒꒱ — 🪦
He'd be amused, but jealous too. God, what's the good about that fictional character when he's right there? the audacity! So here you are now, on top of him as you ride him, whining at how big he is. He'd spank your ass if you got too loud, reminding you that the neighbours would complain. Your cunt sucking his dick in, head all warm and fuzzy, eyes hazy. You had forgotten how many times you came, body shaking at this point.
“Why? Thought you wanted to be fucked stupid, reading that ‘overstimulation’ or whatever fanfiction. So, now be a little grateful.”
#genshin smut#genshin impact smut#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin x y/n#genshin x male reader#genshin x you#genshin x female reader#genshin x gender neutral reader#genshin impact x you#genshin impact x gender neutral reader#xiao smut#xiao x reader#xiao x y/n#xiao x you#kaeya smut#kaeya x reader#kaeya x y/n#kaeya x you#alhaitham smut#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham x you#alhaitham x y/n#alhaitham x female reader#𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐄'𝐒 :: 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 (ᵔ◡ᵔ)
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feather , the drama queen
“ i say she’s too dramatic ”
series m. list
( socialmedia!au )
yourusername
liked by lhughes_06, missseraphina and 310,937 others
yourusername photo dump time 🗣️🗣️
guess who ran into connor bedard at the family function 😱 he was looking at me weird n shit cuz me and mark were cosplaying as rapunzel and flynn rider
also i love taking screenshots of my bf and his goofy brothers when they look stupid!
tagged: lhughes_06, markestapa, _quinnhughes, trevorzegras, jamie.drysdale, masonmctavish23, _connorbedard
view all comments
jamie.drysdale where did you find that pic of us.
→ yourusername use ur common sense
→ trevorzegras this feels like a violation
→ yourusername it is! ☺️
_connorbedard i was looking at you weird because you are weird.
→ yourusername awww cmon ur no fun 😔 we all know im ur favorite relative
→ _connorbedard we’re not related.
→ jamie.drysdale oh my god not even your cousin loves you yourusername
→ yourusername SHUT UP JAMIE
→ _connorbedard WE’RE. NOT. COUSINS?????
→ trevorzegras breaking news!!! bedsy and jamie are related 😱😱
→ _connorbedard my finger is hovering over the block button
username44 funny that she posts this RIGHT NOW..
→ username10 they all have her blocked they don’t know anything
trevorzegras WHEN THERES SOMETHING STRANGE
→ yourusername IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD
→ _quinnhughes aw that sounds just like the two of you
→ luca.fantilli WHO YOU GONNA CALL
→ rutgermcgroarty GHOSTBUSTERS!
→ adamfantilli 👻👻👻
→ yourusername quinn YOU’RE the strange looking thing in the neighborhood 🤬 _quinnhughes
→ jackhughes flashbacks to when that little kid got scared when he opened the door
→ _quinnhughes oh my god I WAS WEARING A COSTUME
username79 did anyone else notice who liked the post…
→ username3 good lord she’s back
luca.fantilli it seems war is NOT over 😔
→ yourusername ????
→ dylanduke25 luca i thought you had her blocked smh
→ luca.fantilli how’d you know who i was talking about unless you didn’t have her blocked either???
→ yourusername …
_quinnhughes everyone’s gonna start calling me depressed now 😐
→ yourusername sweetie they’ve been calling you depressed keep up
→ _quinnhughes 😨
→ jackhughes 😱
→ lhughes_06 🤯
dylanduke25 let’s give me the credit for that costume idea!
→ yourusername you told me to dress up as mother gothel.
→ dylanduke25 out of love 🤗
→ markestapa YOU TOLD ME TO DRESS LIKE THE FUCKING HORSE.
→ lhughes_06 HEY MAXIMUS IS A GREAT CHARACTER
edwards.73 why is mark at the family function 🤨
→ yourusername his mama wanted to come 😈
→ markestapa that’s a lie she forced me to come because i was the only one willing to dress up as flynn rider for her
→ edwards.73 …why are you dressing up in costumes at the family function?????
→ yourusername THE KIDS ALWAYS DO A LITTLE COSTUME PLAY CONTEST THING
→ jamie.drysdale she made me dress up as the lorax when we were in middle school
→ yourusername stop complaining i was literally mr o’hare
→ jamie.drysdale AND THEN YOU MADE ME LORD FARQUAD THE YEAR AFTER THAT
→ yourusername 🙄🙄
→ trevorzegras pics or it didn’t happen.
lhughes_06 you really snuck that cute ass pic of you thinking we wouldn’t notice
→ yourusername ew i hate you
→ lhughes_06 you love me
→ yourusername 🙄
→ lhughes_06 say it ☹️
→ yourusername 🥱
→ jackhughes PLEASE JUST SAY IT ALREADY I CANT STAND HIS WHINING
→ yourusername no can do jacky boy 😓
→ lhughes_06 you little shit
→ yourusername luv u too 😒😒
username10 connor looks so done
username98 quinn has never had a good pic of himself posted by any of his friends 💀
mackie.samo I COULDVE BEEN FLYNN RIDER WHY DIDNT U ASK ME
→ yourusername i asked mark first 😓
→ markestapa HAH take that
colecaufield i took that second photo 😒
→ yourusername our lovely backup photographer 🫶🫶
→ lhughes_06 your quality is kinda ass
→ colecaufield BRO i took it on your phone???
missseraphina
liked by yourusername and 202 others
missseraphina i know you miss me, bc why else would you have texted me last night? 🥰
view all comments
username24 oh babe.. that’s not…..
username8 girly this is a bit obsessive don’t you think? 😭
username61 he’s taken. TAKEN.
username82 yesss girl get your man back!!
→ username40 …as in the one that’s in a relationship rn??
username77 sweetie just find someone else already
username95 I THOUGHT THEY ALL BLOCKED HER but lil drizz just liked the post what
→ yourusername it gave me a good laugh what can i say
username43 they’re making an absolute mockery out of her
username20 LMFAOOO
username18 don’t tell me she’s still going on with ts 😭😭
username55 but let’s think about it.. she wouldn’t have posted this unless he actually texted her
username39 it’s bc he still wants u 😝😝
→ username14 i KNOW you’re not talking about luke hughes 💀
yourusername
liked by adamfantilli, jamie.drysdale, dylanduke25, and 347,252 others
yourusername oh girl you’re obsessed 🥱
view all comments
username90 HELL YEAH we’re back on the drama train
jamie.drysdale i thought i told you to block her 😑
→ yourusername I DID but then all my friends were telling me abt the shit she was posting and i couldn’t resist 😞😞
mackie.samo you’re so petty
→ yourusername aw cmon mack you know you love my pettiness 🤗🤗
→ mackie.samo uh huh i definitely do
→ markestapa bro ur literally pettier than she is
→ mackie.samo give me ONE good example
→ markestapa you blocked me for a week because i said your hair looks like a rat lives in it 😐
→ mackie.samo thanks for the reminder im blocking you again
username10 babe ur feeding into the drama 😭
→ yourusername i know 😈
username34 WHEN SHE PLAYS MULTIPLE INSTRUMENTSSSSS
username28 our multi-talented queen!!
adamfantilli will we ever be done with the couple-y shit 😒
→ yourusername when she’s done obsessing over my man 🫶
→ lhughes_06 what’s that heart for yourusername
→ edwards.73 you’re so possesive luke get over yourself 🙄🙄
→ adamfantilli FR
→ markestapa FR
→ luca.fantilli FR
→ jackhughes FR
→ rutgermcgroarty FR
→ _alexturcotte FR
→ _quinnhughes FR
→ trevorzegras FR
→ dylanduke25 FR
→ jamie.drysdale FR
→ colecaufield FR
→ mackie.samo FR
→ yourusername not again 😭
username88 is she ever gonna go away
luca.fantilli but when you think about it.. luke probably DID text her to provoke that post
→ yourusername LMFAO he would neverrrrr right? lhughes_06
→ lhughes_06 um
→ lhughes_06 i don’t wanna lie to you
→ yourusername oh
→ luca.fantilli oh shit 🤯
→ jamie.drysdale what.
→ markestapa DUDE I THOUGHT YOU BLOCKED HER lhughes_06
→ edwards.73 there’s no fucking way
→ _quinnhughes …
username20 goddamn what happened under luca’s comment 😭😭
username24 holy shit there’s no way luke actually texted her again
username80 oh my god???
notes )
cliffhanger 🙊🙊
yes we’re back but not really (?) this one’s been sitting in the drafts for a while so.. i hope it’s fairly adequate LMAOO
tags: @aliaology @hockeyboysarehot @absolutelyhugh3s @jackquinnswife @freds-slut @love4ldr @blueeyedbesson @43hughes @v1olentdelights @dancerbailey3 @random-human02 @ho3forfakeguys @loveforaugust @cstads-blog @h0e4fictionalme-n @bunting58
#luke hughes#luke hughes x y/n#luke hughes x reader#luke hughes fanfic#luke hughes fic#quinn hughes#jack hughes#cole caufield#alex turcotte#trevor zegras#jamie drysdale#rutger mcgroarty#adam fantilli#luca fantilli#ethan edwards#mark estapa#dylan duke#mackie samoskevich
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"A Kiss?"
Sirius Black x Reader
"It's not that you don't like Sirius, you do, that's the problem.
that's why being chest to chest with him in a cramped storage closet is not the most ideal situation for you right now"
Masterlist
————————————————————————
It's not that you don't like Sirius, you do, that's the problem.
that's why being chest to chest with him in a cramped storage closet is not the most ideal situation for you right now. Especially when you can smell his woody cologne, the leather of his jacket, and the lingering scent of the cigarette he smoked earlier.
How I got in this situation? A Marauders prank gone wrong. You never really cared about the pranks they loved to pull because they never concerned you. This one went wrong, very wrong, Hence your current situation.
There were only supposed to be a few fireworks outside apparently, of course you didn't know that when loud popping noises disrupted you in the middle of your walk to charms. Professors all came running out of their classrooms, students were shrieking and ducking down, you were just plain confused because, what the fuck? No really, what the fuck?
You were even more confused when Sirius Black, of all people, came hurdling towards you and virtually flung himself onto of you hurdling you both towards the ground. Narrowly avoiding an off track flaming firework that went off into a dazzling explosion resulting in colorful sparks just mere feet away from you. Covering the hallway in a thick fog that made your eyes water.
The shock of it all made you not fight when two strong hands plucked you up off the floor and pushed you into the nearest storage closet.
When you finally come back to your senses and realize, really realize, that you're practically glued to a guilty looking Sirius's chest, lets Just say you flip out to put it lightly.
"What the fuck was that!"
"Those were fireworks."
"No fucking shit Black, why were they inside?"
You don't hear him sigh as much as you feel the breath softly brush against your neck
"Because Remus messed up the spell that he's been working on for months and gave James the wrong instructions causing the prank we have been planning for months to fall apart. I honestly can't believe them, I for one would have never-"
"Sirius! I Don't care about your stupid prank! I care about the fact that I just got tackled to the ground like I was in a quidditch match, burst both my eardrums from the noise, and went blind for at least 2 minutes out their, and you're complaining about how your prank didn't work? Are you serious right now?"
He smirks, and well you pretty much walked yourself right into the next thing he's going to say. It doesn't make it any less annoying.
"I'm always Sirius" he says with the goofiest, boyish grin on his face, and if it weren't for your situation right now, you probably would have smiled back considering Sirius Blacks smile is as close to a beam of sunlight as humanly possible.
you internally scream and give him a deadpan look. He goes back to looking sheepish.
Now that you are calming down, or at least not absolutely fuming anymore, you get a chance to really look at Sirius. You notice the freckle on his cheek, the slight crease in his eyebrow, the scar on his upper lip. He's very pretty, though you'd never say it to his face. Not willing to inflate is already massive ego.
You find yourself slowing your breathing slowing down to match the breaths you feel him taking against your chest. And god his chest, its firm against your body and now you are picturing all the times you saw him by the lake in the warmer months in nothing but his swim trunks and- god is it hot in here? when did it get so hot?
there really isn't much room in here.
Sirius must sense the sudden shift in the room because he opens his mouth to say something, then immediately shuts it.
"Have you seem Sirius, James, Remus, or Peter? I know they had something to do with this. Once I find them they are dead meat. All of them. Detentions, perhaps for the whole year. Find me immediately if you see them. That goes for all student, If you see something say something! I will get to the bottom of this!"
You feel siariuss chest start to shack against yours and muffled giggles Strat coming out of his mouth until he can't hold back anymore and starts cackling
What are you doing? its like you want to get caught! Sirius be quiet I'm not kidding they are going to hear you!" You quickly give up your antics when you realize they are no use to sirius's implacable case of the giggles
So you take your hand and promptly slap it over his mouth.
His eyes widen, but then go back to their normal devious state of unmistakable mischief and he licks your hand. He. Licks. Your. Hand.
"ugh" You snatch your hand away immediately and wipe it down on his shirt without thinking. The problem with not thinking? You're rubbing your hand that was over his mouth on his chest. You are rubbing Sirius Black's Chest.
When you look back up you expect to see his teasing gaze ready to poke fun at you for touching his "Magnificently toned pecs" but his face is, pun not intended, serious. His cheeks are even tinted a little pink, and that just can't be right because Sirius doesn't blush. He gets flirted with by the hottest girl and boys at school and doesn't even bat an eye. There is just no possible way you could have made Sirius black blush, but yet here you are.
Looking up into his eyes you find him staring right back at you.
"You know your eyes are really pretty up close, its kinda hard to see them from across the classroom in potions" Sirius says quietly, voice almost a whisper
and you practically melt on the spot because that was such a nice thing to say. And he said it to you. Perfectly average you.
"Thank you" you breathed out "your eyes are very beautiful too."
"Are they now?" he smiled and quirked his eyebrow
you roll your eyes, "In that case I take it back-"
"No! You can't just take it back, I'm sorry! How can I make it up to you?"
"Make up what?"
"My awful teasing, and me being part of the reason you had to miss charms class and be stuck in a closet with me for twenty minutes"
"being in a closet with you wasn't that bad but I can think of a way you can make it up to me"
"Anything."
"A kiss?" you whisper
He smiles. "I was hoping you'd say that" and he leans down to softly attach his lips to yours.
#sirius black fluff#sirius black x reader#sirius black imagine#sirius x reader#sirius black x you#sirius black#marauders era
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Congrats on 10 K ,Luna!We're all so proud of you,thank you for contributing to our whole community😊🎀
As for your asks,could I request 📝? I was thinking Neteyam being submissive (because I just love how you write him, especially in Unwinding Together and on the Cockwarming prompt from Kinkmas,that always makes me crazyyyy😩)
Here's a cake to celebrate!!🎂 So proud of you!!!
-🦅
Thank you so much, pookie!! I hope you like it 🥹🩵
Neteyam x female human reader, minors dni 🔞
He has never seen a silk dress before, but great mother do you wear that little piece of tawtute [sky people] clothing well.
Neteyam closes his eyes and inhales shakily as you leave a red lipped kiss on his lips. The next time he opens them, it’s all darkness behind the fine woven cloth you’ve bound around his head, taking away his sight. Now your fingers are trailing down the exposed skin on his abs, lower and lower, before they suddenly stop and he lets out a whine. That earns him a mean little bite to his earlobe. It stings, but makes him quiet. The night has just begun, anyway.
The warmth of your mouth wandering from his ear to his throat makes him shudder, but he doesn't make a peep. He’s not ready for another bite... yet.
Five solid minutes of silence, safe for the sound of his heavy breathing as you kiss up and down his face, throat and collarbone, before Neteyam begins to hear something wet. By your following heady breaths, he realizes you must’ve started touching yourself, right in front of him. Silence falls again but is quickly broken when he feels your moist fingers against his bottom lip. "Taste", you tell him, and his tail whips against your mattress in excitement.
"You want more, hm?" You purr and he moans around your fingers, and that‘s all the approval you need.
Neteyam feels the silk of your thighs framing his head just before you push your wet cunt down harshly against his mouth. With one hand tangled in his braids, and one against the wall behind your bed to support your balance, you begin to ride him. His mouth sets to work immediately, tongue swirling around your clit, lips kissing and sucking wherever you guide him, and you let your head fall back as you enjoy the ride.
"Good- Fuck, N-Nete!" But then you push yourself away just as he's about to push you over the edge. The groan of protest earns him a tug to his tail, that has been trashing around right next to you this entire time. This time it’s enough to elicit a complain from his parted lips that you couldn’t quite understand.
"What was that?"
"Nothing", he mumbles, then hisses when you tug on his tail again, harder this time. A reminder of his manners. "Thank you, yawne. I'm sorry, yawne."
You reach behind yourself then, fingers slowly tracing the tip of his cock, dipping down to teasingly stroke the thick girth of his shaft. You can practically see him vibrating with the force of staying still, but you know he's strong enough to break the ropes around his wrists at any moment. He doesn’t, though. He just loves this game just as much as you, and he’s not ready for it to end yet.
"What do you want, Teyam? Do you want me to take you in my mouth, choking on you even while I deny you permission to come? Or does my filthy little pet want to get his dick wet, hm? Want me to ride you nice and slow, see how long it’ll take you to beg for it? What do you want? Speak." You command, squeezing especially hard around his base and he groans.
"I want... you, yawne." You giggle, oh so sweetly, as he stiffens in your hold. "Hmm, that's not an answer. Why don’t you show me, baby?"
The last thing you see before he rips those leather ropes to shreds and takes you, are his fangs poking out from under his slick covered lips as he grins at you. He’s strong, almost too strong and your heart races as he drills his cock into you in one fluid thrust. He still can’t see through that blindfold, but he has your knees over his shoulders and you sandwiched between him and the mattress.
"Take. It. Off." Though the pleasure coursing through your veins you finally figure out he’s talking about the blindfold. Pulling it down his face, you see the fire in his golden eyes a split second before his tongue is down your throat, probing and tasting as he fucks you hard enough to make you cry out. You cling to him, his cock brushing against your g-spot flawlessly as he slams into you like a jackhammer, all feral rage and passion. He bites down on your neck and you scream as your orgasm makes you tighten around him. He only follows after the final tremors of your orgasm have been forced out by his length.
When he finally stills, all cum successfully planted deep inside your core, he’s laying himself down on top of you, panting against your hair with his face buried against your throat.
"Did I please you, yawne?" He asks coyly, tail wagging behind his back in anticipation.
"God, yes," You respond in a hushed giggle, a little short of breath, "You did good. So good."
#🦅 anon#lunas10kfollowercelebration#avatar the way of water#avatar#avatar 2#atwow#neteyam#neteyam sully#neteyam x reader smut#neteyam x female reader#atwow neteyam#avatar neteyam#neteyam avatar#neteyam fanfiction#neteyam smut#neteyam sully smut#neteyam sully x reader#neteyam x human reader#neteyam x female reader smut#neteyam x reader
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One rare lazy day in Vacuo
Yang: *Bored out of her skull, reading a "Teen" magazine*
Weiss: *Enjoying her simple healthy breakfast salad*
Ruby: *Enjoying her not-so-healthy breakfast cereal*
Blake: *Catching up on her "literature"*
Yang: *Perks up on reading a topic* "Just how gay are you and your partner? Take this simple test and find out!"
Weiss: Please no, I just want to finish breakfast.
Yang: *Ignoring her, turning to Blake* Wanna take this test with me, Blakey?
Blake: *Closing her book, raising a skeptical eyebrow* You do know we have no need for such a test, right?
Yang: We don't?
Blake: We don't. And I can prove it. *Puts away her book and stands up* Stand up.
Yang: *Already standing, curious* Okay...
Blake: *Walks over, standing close to Yang, their height difference evident as she looks up at the blonde* Now, on your knees.
Yang: *Wide-eyed in shock* Uhm, wha-what?!
Blake: *Touches Yang's jawline* On. Your. Knees.
Yang: *Knees buckle, thudding on the floor* Okay...
Blake: *Now looking down at the blonde, eyes bright in delight and with a wicked grin* And that, my dear girl, that is how gay you are. Understood?
Yang: *In need of clean underwear* Yes, ma'am.
~~~~~~~~~~
Weiss: *In despair as she holds her hands in her head* I just want one, ONE, simple morning without my breakfast being ruined.
Ruby: *Still shoveling her cereal* Meh, I'm over it.
Weiss: Ugh... I should go join JNPER (Jaune, Nora, Oscar, Emerald, Ren). Surely they're... normal compared to whatever these two are doing all day.
Ruby: Probably best if you didn't.
Weiss: Pray tell, why?
Ruby: Oscar, and by extension Ozpin, is mostly busy with Theodore and other high-ranking huntsfolk for whatever business is most pressing but the rest... *Slightly cringes as she weighs whether or not she should tell*
Weiss: Ruby. Tell. Me!
Ruby: *Sighs, shrugs and spills the proverbial beans* They're probably banging right about now.
Weiss: ...
Ruby: Yeah... after our return from the Ever After there was this whole thing where Ren and Nora wanted- Needed more like- to reconnect and reconcile with Jaune. Emerald was just desperate looking for a place to belong. Anyway, long story short, they're likely banging right now.
Weiss: *Thudding her head on the table* My fucking friend group is a Gods damned mess!
Ruby: I'm still traumatized from walking in on them, but you don't hear me complain. Nora's way more flexible than you'd expect.
Weiss: *Whinging into the table surface* UUUUUGH...
#rwby#rwby shitpost#yang xiao long#weiss schnee#ruby rose#blake belladonna#bumbleby#jaune arc#lie ren#nora valkyrie#emerald sustrai#poly shenanigans
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Prompt?? Request?? Idk what this is but it’s been stuck in my head and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it!!
——
Frat boy au where lance is super straight passing and acts really frat bro-y. But it’s Outside POV from another person in the college who assumes he’s probably homophobic and doesn’t treat women well/ all that stereotypical frat boy stuff. They complain abt fratboys all the time to their friends too and it’s this whole known thing in their friend group. Then they see him get into this super fancy car with a hot older man (nando ofc) and is like what’s up with that. Person keeps trying to ironically figure out if lance is part of the mafia or some other mystery. Turns out he’s in a loving relationship with his sugar daddy nando (person sees them kissing at a gay bar one night, among other things 😏) and after that they’re like damn wtf and have a change in perception of lance and can’t shut up about it and tells everyone “did u know lance is gay?!!” Other shenanigans ensue.
Bonus if they become friends in the end and lance tells them all the different ways and places nando fucks him.
I need you to know that this has unlocked something that I have been talking with my irls about for literally a month now. I will write this whole thing for you, but right now please enjoy this snippet and some Lore ™.
Also this may be so uniquely specific that no one will enjoy it, but I need everyone to know this has been my secret passion project for weeks now.
Logan absolutely despises group projects. He especially despises them when he’s partnered with perhaps the worst possible group of people you could be partnered with on an assignment that is responsible for a quarter of their grade. Other than the girl sitting to his left, her blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail, spreading out notes in multi-colored pen and highlighter, their table is the least inspiring of the lot. For one, there’s him, who had barely passed elementary calc. last year and was on his way to failing macroeconomics this semester. But it’s the two sitting across from him that instill a particular sort of dread.
“You going to Rusty’s tonight?” one of them asks, Esteban, tall and lanky and slumped so low in his chair that Logan can almost touch his feet even though he’s clear on the other side of the table.
The other one, Lance, broad and just as long as his friend, shrugs, “I don’t know, man. Getting kind of bored of it.”
Logan watches as Lance takes off his backwards cap long enough to ruffle at his hair before sliding the hat back down onto his head. There’s Greek lettering embroidered along back for some fraternity Logan doesn’t know the letters of, but is sure they’re assholes, nonetheless. He’s seen the way Lance strolls into class enough times, backpack slung over one shoulder, if he even bothers to bring it, his phone in the other. He wears his AirPods during class, which easily outs him as the elitist snob he is – the type of student who’s here partying on daddy’s dime, who wouldn’t know what the term ‘work study’ meant if it ran him over with the bike Logan knows Lance keeps in the University Village parking lot. Logan couldn’t afford off-campus housing, but he knows Lance can, the bike is always parked in a resident spot.
The girl beside him shifts her notes closer, he turns his attention to her, so he doesn’t have to hear Lance recount his exploits at the local bar that is known for serving underage undergrads.
“You took all of these?” He asks the girl, mildly impressed. Her handwriting is neat, so neat it almost looks unnatural. She’s color coded them, bolded certain words and underlined others. Logan is suddenly ashamed of the chicken scratch in his notebook that’s tucked beneath his arm.
For those that don’t know, Florida Gulf Coast University is a school in Fort Myers (in south Florida, on the opposite coast of Miami). Their big draw is being “close” to the beach, realistically it’s like a 30 minute drive.
They typically attract local kids on scholarship, or rich northerners who are just looking for an easy education. But they do offer a unique golf management degree, and their claim to fame is that they’re sometimes decent in the basketball department (like 1 time in 2015 but they just will not let it go). They also somewhat have a reputation as a party school (tho I think Miami definitely more than them).
Being built predominantly around preserved land, FGCU also has a big “eco-friendly” outlook. So lots of walking paths, a course called colloquium that all students have to take, and the one everyone dreads because you have to walk through the swamp for part of it. Lucky for Lance, he would have attended during the COVID years, and thus could avoid the swamp walk because all courses were virtual.
He’d probably be a member of Alpha Epsilon Pi, the Jewish fraternity on campus. They’re lowkey, but also kind of throw the best parties, off-campus of course because FGCU doesn’t have official fraternity or sorority housing. In this world Lance has definitely drank jungle juice from a trash can with a nozzle cut into the base. He is aware of the existence of “Saturdays are for the boys” flags, frat boy Lance is something that can be both repulsive and endearing.
He has a car, but most the time he opts to take his bike places. Fernando first runs into him when he’s in his bike gear actually, which, you know, hard to resist that. Plus, picture Fernando being Lance’s backpack. Please envision it, it’s a very important image. It’s definitely happened in this universe.
Strollonso beach dates??? Yeah, 100% happened here too. One of the reasons Lance even ends up at FGCU is because of the beach, so you know his ass is there most weekends. He forgets sunscreen frequently, Fernando is used to applying aloe to his back after they’ve spent a long day on the boat. He probably has that sunburned warmth to him like 24/7. He never forgets his sunglasses though, so he also maybe has raccoon eyes.
Oh yeah, and Logan, being a South Florida boy, probably would have attended FGCU too. His tinder profile unfortunately probably does feature a photo of him holding a fish. Just Florida boy things.
Anyway, this maybe is nothing. But if you want to talk more about this au please feel free to message me/send an ask. And I will 100% be ready to ramble more about this ultra specific fic. A chapter coming after keep to the line this weekend maybe.
#I have so much to say about this#literally I have notes upon notes that I’ve been building with my friends#we are so sure in another universe he went to fgcu#we know it in our bones#strollonso#strollonso fic#strollonso college au#lance stroll
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What would your headcanons be for the 141 in nursing homes? As in old ass man.
Maybe some extra characters as well? 👀
I'm splitting this up into 3 categories: Physical appearance, personality/behaviour, and overall shenanigans.
John Price
Went bald but still has a killer mustache and a ridiculous amount of body hair and yet all the hair he has left has gone grey. Is SOOO wrinkly. His eyes are hooded/droopy beyond fucking belief.
He's 100% a "Back in my day..." old man. Has def gone half-deaf. Is both a flight risk AND a fall risk but refuses to use his walker/zimmer frame. Is the first one up in the morning, before the staff even changed shifts (consequence of early rising all his life in the military)
Insists on being called 'Captain' by the staff, gives everyone the stink eye if he gets called 'John' or 'Mr.Price'. Sometimes still wakes up dreaming of Makarov and/or Shepherd and spends all day grumpy. Staff hates him.
Simon Riley
Does not go wrinkly. Instead, his skin gets taut and he loses weight and muscle, and becomes skinny/frail. Is VERY hunched over.
Has def lost most of his hearing as well. Is impossible to talk to. A conversation between him and Price spirals from a topic to the next because they misinterpret each other's words. Blasts his fave TV shows (The Price is Right) at top volume all hours of the day.
Has dementia or some other brain degenerative disease, which means he's often lost/confused... So it's not uncommon to see him walking around carrying a cane or umbrella like it's a rifle because he thinks he's still a soldier. Has scared the shit out of night staff by sneaking up behind them with a mask on (where did he get the bloody mask?) and nearly stabbing them with a syringe-like it was one of his knives.
Johnny MacTavish
Does not make it to a nursing home, he's already dead.
Kyle Garrick
Has gone grey but not that wrinkly. Still looks surprisingly good for his age. Is very charming. Wears colourful shirts (Hawaiian and not), and has a nice style... but still wears that stupid bloody hat of his. Has VERY bad hip pain from falling out of helicopters so much.
Is SOOO sweet and polite, and charms all the old ladies AND the nursing staff, every kid that comes visit other grandparents LOVES him. Is the least annoying senior at the nursing home. Also has terrible hearing. Spends his time shouting at Price and Simon to have a conversation.
Still gets taken to veteran/war remembrance days by his family and watches the parades and such... only to look at helicopters with disdain in his eyes and curses them out with a fist.
Alejandro Vargas
Has not gone grey but is a healthy salt-and-pepper. Still keeps his little stubble OR an anchor goatee. Wears glasses now, but they're those types that transition into sunglasses.
His hearing is ALSO shot. Has very shaky hands so he keeps dropping things, especially his pills. Talks crap about everyone with Rodolfo (they gossip in Spanish so no one can hear him.) Is never grumpy. Loves playing cornhole and pétanque.
Is 100% a cougar hunter. Has a silver-tongue and is still so attractive that he just seduces ALL the old ladies. Some of them were still married to their husbands (who were ALSO in the nursing home) and he STILL flirted with them.
Rodolfo Parra
Rudy has gone chubby, wears glasses, and still stays clean-shaven. Wears cardigans and corduroy trousers. Is on a wheelchair.
Is very polite. Spends his time reading in the garden, and likes tending to flowers. Loves a good gossip with Alejandro. Loves playing cards because it's the one game Alejandro cannot play, is very smug about it.
Falls asleep suddenly after meals. Hates Philip Graves with a fucking passion. Hates him so much he still wakes up dreaming about the betrayal in 2022 and gets MAD about it. Wheels himself to Alejandro's room every time and complains. "Pendejo de mierda, Graves."
#asks#moots#cod headcanons#crack headcanons#I promise it's crack#do not take this seriously#I will fill this out with the rest of them tomorrow
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Bodyguard!Valeria
Okay first of all I kinda hate this, I'm posting it again bc I had posted it privately (bc I'm stupid like that)
Uh and it's not proofread so sorry in advance
Valeria was no stranger to hard work, everything she had achieved was because she had broken her back and cried tears of blood but she did not complain.
Right now she was cursing her life and all her ancestors though, she couldn't conceive that you were the most difficult thing of all, you were unbearable, so annoying and stubborn that sometimes she wanted to just vanish into thin air and forget about her damn plan, that's how much of a pain you were for her.
Not only were you putting your life at risk but also hers, you were the wife of the spider's son and one of the reasons why she had been almost forced to watch over you was so that that fucking man wouldn't beat the crap out of you anymore because of his jealousy, however, you weren't making it easy for Valeria.
You were so manipulative, you knew very well how to use your beauty to your advantage and you were so persistent that you managed to get her into your bed and it was so inevitable for her not to give in to your pleas, those caresses that drove her crazy and those kisses that she still couldn't forget.
That night was permanently on her mind, torturing her and reminding her that even though she always had you close, she could never touch you again or her plans would probably be ruined, she had already gained the trust of too many people to make such a carnal mistake as giving in to her impulses.
“Please, it's just a-” You slurred your words out of drunkenness and she rolled her eyes, her hand pressed to your throat, you could see she was upset but you didn't give a damn, like usual.
“Shut your damn mouth, do you want to get killed? Behave". Valeria snapped and she was so sick of you, you could see it, she was tense and her jaw clenched as she looked around to make sure no one had seen you as you rubbed against her and tried to kiss her, luckily the VIP area of the club you two were in was quite secluded and no one was paying attention to you.
She kept her distance for the rest of the night, she stayed alert and watched you to make sure you didn't do something stupid but she didn't let you get too close until you arrived back at the mansion, she helped you go upstairs because you could barely walk properly and when she was going to leave you in the room you pulled her in and closed the door behind her, your husband was not there and you always took advantage of that, or at least that's what you tried to do.
"I have to take a shower". You murmured and kept pulling Valeria by the arm until you got in the bathroom, you weren’t letting her escape from you. “And you have to take care of me, what if I fall and hit my head? It will be your fault.” You grinned cynically at her and she scoffed as she shook her head, the worst part was that you were right and she hated it.
You got in the shower as soon as you undressed, the cold water ran through your whole body and made you shiver.
Her gaze inevitably ran over you from head to toe and she had to swallow hard and remind herself that the woman in front of her was forbidden, having you once had been greedy of her, she couldn't allow herself to have you again even if she wanted to... and oh how much she wanted to.
You, on the other hand, knew very well what you were doing, you slid your hands over your breasts, over your stomach until you reached your belly, you felt the heat between your legs as intense as ever, you had never been in a situation this erotic and you felt breathless, just like Valeria.
The only thing between you was the glass door, she couldn't take her eyes off your body even if she tried. It's not like she wanted to, she felt enchanted as if she was in a spell.
"Don’t do this to me". Valeria spoke almost out of breath, her voice was strained by everything she was feeling and you smiled as you put your hand between your thighs, you leaned against the shower door, the glass fogging up from your gasps and you began to massage your swollen bud that was soaking your fingers, your soft flesh was begging for another touch, it missed her hands. The water that fell on you was cold but not even that helped calm the heat you felt, the burning throughout your body.
Valeria was frozen in place, she couldn't stop looking at you, the way you touched yourself, your face, your whole body, she wanted to get into that shower and taste you until you couldn't stand up anymore, she wanted to turn you into a needy mess and feel your skin and your body against hers, it was a necessity at this point.
She couldn't control herself anymore and since she knew how things would end she preferred to run away, she left the bathroom and went into the room that your impertinent husband had assigned her, if you were sober enough to torture her that way then you were sober enough how to finish taking the damn shower without killing yourself.
She wasn't calming down, she was still panting and saying she was dripping was an understatement, she lay down on the bed and took a couple of deep breaths before cursing under her breath, doing that was giving in to all your fucking teasing but she couldn't help so she unzipped her pants in an attempt to calm the longing she felt for you right now.
And you went into the room, just what Valeria didn’t want... She growled, the tension she was feeling was enough to put her in a bad mood and now you were there to just make her feel even worse, it was a bad night, it was a bad job.
“No, get out.” Valeria spoke and you couldn't help the mischievous grin that adorned your face when you heard her, you knew that voice very well, you nibbled on your lip as you approached her bed, straddling her, your hand wrapping around her neck and the other going down her breasts, all over her torso until you put it inside her pants, you could feel how wet she was just from brushing her underwear with your fingers, her walls clenched around nothing, craving, longing to feel something inside, it was painful.
She was staring at you as she let out heavy pants, her body felt on fire and she knew she could take you off her lap if she really wanted to, you weren’t the strongest woman so she could just push you away, she could.
The question was... did she want to?
You gently caressed her over her underwear and put your hand inside, rubbing her flesh that was unusually soaked and you narrowed your eyes at her as you bit your lip, you were finally touching her again.
You lowered your fingers to her entrance and slowly sank them inside her, her walls clung to you, milking your fingers and your breath hitched in your throat, she was never this wet and the realization made you smirk, this was a first and you promised yourself right there that you would enjoy it.
“Oh… Are you ovulating?” You murmured in a mocking tone but Valeria didn't answer, she just glared at you as she gasped and you curled your fingers, rubbing that spot inside her that made her feel helpless and she whimpered. “That's why you're wet like a bitch in heat, right, honey?” You whispered softly, increasing the speed with which you massaged her g-spot.
“Screw you.” She snapped, feeling breathless, her moans were more audible now and it was killing you, you had never seen her this turned on, it was just making you feel desperate and needy.
You started grinding your hips against her thigh as you massaged her insides and she was so tight you felt like she would rip your fingers off, which meant she was close.
You pushed your thumb against her swollen nub, her thighs started to shake and you brought your lips to hers, you were doing what you wanted with her, but it wasn’t enough.
“I want you to get me out of here”. You spoke hoarsely as you kept working your fingers inside her, the heat of her insides were driving you insane. You loved feeling pleasure, but the most exciting part about having sex with Valeria was pleasuring her, making her weak until she couldn’t stop squirting.
“I will.” She breathed out, her arms clasping around your waist so she could feel you closer as her orgasm was crushing her whole body, you could feel it in your hand, the way she was tightening and tensing up, it was hot. And you moved your fingers harshly, harder just like you knew she liked it.
“I want to be with you, I don’t want to be with him”. You spoke close to her lips and she nibbled on your bottom lip, her body felt like it wasn’t hers anymore, it was yours, yours to control, to posses, she gave you the right.
“We…” Her words were silenced by her own moans, she couldn’t keep quiet like she intended to just a couple minutes ago because the feeling was overwhelming, it wasn’t just her wet cunt that was sensitive, it was her entire self, her nipples were stiff and you couldn’t see it because her bra was hugging her chest, it was uncomfortable, she wanted your soft hand around her breasts, circling her nipples, playing with that delicate skin you loved so much.
The sound of your fingers fucking her was so obscene, and soon enough you could hear how wet she was getting so you knew it was time to took them out.
Your gaze fell over your fingers, glistening with Valeria’s’ juices and you felt thirsty, you put them in your mouth and moaned as you felt her taste spread across your tongue.
The front door creaked and took you both out of the little cloud you were in. You quickly got off Valeria's lap and snuck to your room, just in time for your husband to come in and lie down next to you, thinking you were asleep or maybe not even thinking about you at all.
And you couldn't help but smirk as you imagined how happy you would be when this nightmare was over, just you, Valeria, and the empire you knew she would build.
#valeria garza#valeria cod#valeria mw2#valeria garza x reader#valeria x reader#cod x reader#valeria thirst#valeria x f! reader#valeria x you#wlw#lesbian#call of duty#cod mw2#sapphic#wlw post#cod x you#cod
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I don’t want to be this person. But I feel like that new Elvis confessions account on here is just a gateway for people to start drama and spew their hate for people in this fandom and how others choose to love Elvis or how they write about Elvis and to basically shove down our throats how to be an Elvis fan “the right way”.
I just saw one of their recent posts about basically the fandom not being the same and how people don’t care about him and how people used to talk about his music and movies. Now people in the fandom only care about writing smut about him and don’t even know his songs or movies. Then saying how calling him “big daddy” is disgusting.
Huh? What? I don’t know what part of the fandom this person is on but we are constantly talking about his music and movies. I feel like most of the people in this fandom have seen all of his movies. But also some can’t depending on where they live in the world so it could be harder for them to watch them. He’s got so much music to listen like you can’t be mad if EVERYONE hasn’t heard every single fucking song. There’s actually some people who just joined and are still learning. It’s not that serious. Stop acting like you weren’t once new to being an Elvis fan.
Why are we acting like people haven’t been writing so much smut stories about him since 2022? Before I even joined the fandom here I was literally reading soooo many smut stories about him around that time. I don’t think that’s changed. There’s so many different stories besides smut. If you don’t like smut guess what? DON’T READ IT BABE. Keep scrolling. There’s so much variety when it comes to Elvis fanfics. It’s not just smut.
Then onto the big daddy thing. That didn’t just become a thing. It’s been a thing for the past two years. How is it disgusting? Lmao. It’s never that serious and honestly no one is being disrespectful when they use that term. That man has big daddy energy. That is never a bad thing, lol.
I swear. People don’t know how to just enjoy things and not taking things so seriously and constantly complaining about literally everything. Why can’t people just enjoy things? I feel like I constantly speak up about this because I’m so tired of people telling people how they should love Elvis or how there’s a wrong and right way. I’m so tired of people making others feel like they don’t belong here. We all love and respect Elvis. We all love learning about him in every aspect of his life. So many of us do so much research and constantly read books on him because we DO see him more than just a “pretty face” more than just an “aesthetic”. He’s a huge part of our lives and we all in some way have a story about how he’s impacted us or what he’s done for us. Doesn’t mean we can’t joke about things or like make unhinged posts. Life doesn’t always have to be taken so seriously.
Lighten up. Elvis would be bothered by how uptight some of you are.
Thank you for coming to my Elvis ted talk. ☺️
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steve finding out reader is expecting twins and being utterly panicked, like he needs to go see robin and eddie to talk him down because he is freaking out
Ahhhhhh I love this!!! (you know the TikTok sound 'oh my goodness I love this questiionnnnn, I think-' yeah thats me right now).
857 words cw: swearing, loser!Steve trying to get his groove back,
An ice pack was pressed to his head, Robin's chipped nail polish covered fingers holding it in place. She was mumbling something, freaking out as she stumbled over her panic, 'maybe we should call 911'.
Eddie was laughing, cold beer in one hand as he took in the sight before him. Robin taking deep breaths to calm herself down, interchangeably pressing the ice to herself and Steve, while he groaned every time it was taken away from him. A dark bruise was forming on his forehead from where he passed out in your living room.
"Isn't this the shit you've always been talking about?" Eddie asked, taking a swig of his drink.
Steve closed his eyes, a deep breath leaving him. Robin yelped, shaking his shoulder.
"Stay awake, Steve!" She hurried, squatting in front of him. Steve peeked open an eye, rolling it at her.
"I'm fine, Robin," he said, wincing at the pressure he was feeling. "Yes and no, yes because I love her and I want a soccer team-"
"Damn army at that."
"Eddie. Please," He continued, taking the pack from Robin's fingers. "I'm just going to be fucking terrible at it."
"Steve, those damn kids love you," she supplied, taking his wrist in her hand, presumably to check his vitals. "You run your own babysitting service practically, and you're amazing at it, hey, you might get your ass kicked every now and then, but they're all alive."
"Not helping," he winced, snatching his wrist from her. Eddie leaned forward in his chair, handing a lit cigarette towards the younger man. Steve would normally complain about him smoking indoors, but for right now, it was everything he needed.
"She's right, Steve," he said, watching as Steve took a long drag, shoulders relaxing at the hit. "Those kids will swear up and down that you're the best god damn thing to happen to them, whether you like it or not. You're made for this."
Steve shook his head, coughing as the hit went down the wrong pipe. "No, no, no. Man, I couldn't even get into college, and here I am, working at a movie store, with twins! Twins! Two babies! On their way!"
Eddie laughed at his urgency, reclining as he looked up at the ceiling of the Harrington home. He took a look around, humming as he found it spacious.
"I think a crib will fit perfectly right there," he pointed towards a corner, closing one eye as he envisioned it. Steve whined, sinking into the couch even further.
"My dad's going to kill me," he muttered, putting the palms of his hands over his eyes. He was never a religious man, but in this moment, he felt God in his presence. "Fuck, what if I'm like my dad? I'm going to be so shit at this, she's gonna leave me. Oh my God, I'm going to be a single dad."
"Steve!" Robin grabbed his shoulders, shaking them as he lolled his head to look at her. "Snap out of it, okay?"
Steve nodded, his bottom lip jutting out as he moped. His eyes were wide, watering slightly as he envisioned the next few months, no years, decades of his life changing.
"You're going to be the best god damn dad out there, alright? You may be a Harrington, but you're not gonna be like him," Robin held eye contact, sincere as she pressed a hand to his chest. "She loves you. You love her. The two of you are like a match made in heaven."
Eddie hummed in agreement, turning so his feet hung off the side of the lounge chair. "Or hell, if you want to look at it like that."
Robin cut him a look, gaze firm.
"Okay fine, you're made for each other, alright? There couldn't be a better duo than the two of you, and you'd need to be completely senseless to not see that," he reached out, fingers spread as he expected the cigarette back. "Trust me when I say, I think you're going to be perfect at this. You may think it's the wrong timing, but I mean, it happened for a reason."
Steve nodded, looking in between the two of them. He began to feel hopeful, figuring his two friends wouldn't lead him astray when it came to this.
"What if I am bad at it though? Even if I try?" His voice was small, fear etched into it. Robin placed a hand on his knee, squeezing lightly.
"No one's good at it, especially for the first time. What matters is trying and just being there," she said, patting at him. "Now get the hell up. Give her a call, apologize for being terrible and leaving her at her house, and make it work, Harrington."
Steve looked towards Eddie, who smiled and nodded as he agreed. Slowly standing up, he felt less shaky in his movements, redeveloping the muscle he felt he had lost earlier.
Eddie gave a toothy grin as Steve crossed the room, giddy in his steps as he made his way towards the house phone. "Just wrap it up next time, Harrington."
"Eddie!"
Masterlist! Inbox and requests are open! <3
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What if AESPA is sharing an (incredibly lucky) boyfriend?
(_shy new kpop fan anon_)
Hi there, new anon! Welcome in this strange yet fantastic world called kpop. You end up in the naughty side of this world, but don't worry, even if we are a bit odd, we're all friendly 🫂
Now, regarding the lucky dude...I guess fate has really its favorites, uh? No, because imagine all four the Aespa girls and all the good things coming from that. Of course it would be like a dream because they are so funny, caring, sweet and nice girls, but there's actually more...🤭
They won't be too jealous of you, sharing you according a fair sex schedule:
Being the leader and waking up earlier than the others, Karina would be the first to make a good use of your cock. Yeah, because Karina loves being awakened by your cock, pounding her pussy while you suck on her tits. Feeling pleasure as first sensation in the morning is the best way to start the day, even better if the second feeling is your warm cum filling her tummy. She feels full even before of breakfast 🌝
Right before of lunch instead, it's Ning turn. She always complains a lot about being bored and hungry at that hour, so why not keep her busy till the food is ready? You bring her in an empty room, you push them on her knees and start to fuck her face, reducing the bimbo maknae in your sex toy, making a mess of her make-up and hairstyle, before releasing directly in her stomach.
We all know that moment in the afternoon when we just have nothing to do, right? Well, you don't since when Giselle started to reserve your time, after all who's gonna fuck her ass otherwise? She would offer you her bare booty, making it jiggle to tease you, but everytime you punish her, ravaging her ass until after you're done with her, her hole is leaking and gaping.
And in the end we have that cutie of Winter; the night she becomes always so cuddly and clingy, but we know that she can't resist to your bulge rubbing against her body. So just pulls her pants off, letting you fuck her until she's exhausted, too tired by the orgasms you gave her. With her pussy swollen and reddened, she falls asleep between your arms.
#kpop smut#kpop thoughts#girl group smut#kpop x male reader#girl groups x male reader#aespa x male reader#aespa smut#aespa giselle#aespa winter#aespa karina#aespa ningning#giselle smut#winter smut#ningning smut#karina smut#karina x male reader#giselle x male reader#winter x male reader#ningning x male reader
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X-Men '97, Post-Episode 7, ~2500 words Morpherine established relationship, missing scene (unless the show actually does explore what happened during that fight, in which case boy is there egg on my face).
I follow established show canon by referring to Morph as he/him in diegetic works (fanfic and fan art) and they/them in non-diegetic works (my episode analyses and reblogs), because that's the stupidest option and, like Morph, I am also an enby with a terrible sense of humor.
Now come watch me struggle to write two whole lines of dialogue for one of my favorite characters in the series, Beast, because Me Too Stupid to Write Smart Talk Good.
--
“You wanna explain what the hell happened back there?”
Although he considers pretending he didn’t hear the question, Morph reluctantly glances across the center aisle of the Blackbird to see Logan glaring back at him with an expression as hard as the adamantium underneath it. Although it’s a look he’s seen plenty of times before as an innocent bystander, Morph has only been the target of that glare on a handful of occasions. Usually when he’s severely fucked something up. Or when Logan is completely out-of-his-mind, cuckoo-bananas worried about him.
Morph suspects that this time, it’s a little Column A, a little Column B.
A wiser person might realize they were in a hole and stop digging; Morph smirks and asks, “What, the Summers Family Reunion? Well, you see, when a man and the clone of his wife love each other very much…” Morph chuckles. “By the way, this might be a bit creepy to say as one of his honorary uncles, but Baby Nathan grew up to be a serious hottie—emphasis on serious.”
No laugh. Okay, maybe that wasn’t his best material, but not even a lip twitch? Logan must be pissed.
Morph sighs and slouches in his seat. God, he doesn’t want to talk about this right now. Or maybe ever. He can feel his throat literally closing up to stop the words from coming out.
When enough time has passed that what little patience Logan had left in the tap completely runs dry, he goes right for the jugular: “I thought you were dead. Again.”
Morph winces.
“I saw that… ‘Trask Sentinel’ blow your goddamn head off. Then, next thing I know, you’re up and walkin’ around like nothing happened.”
“Not that you’re complaining, right?” Morph asks with a weak attempt at a laugh. “You know what they say about gift horses. Although, you’d think the lesson from the Trojan War would be that you should look gift horses in the mouth.”
From the seat behind him, Morph hears: “Although it’s a common misconception, that phrase actually has nothing to do with the Trojan Horse. The proverbial ‘gift horse’ is a literal, living horse, and to look it in the mouth—”
“With all those books you read,” Logan grumbles, “I thought at least one of them would've taught you it's rude to eavesdrop.”
“It would be difficult not to overhear, given the two of you are speaking quite loudly in a confined space while surrounded by people,” Beast points out. “Have you considered that this perhaps isn’t the best venue for a private conversation?”
“He is a super-genius. We’d better listen to him,” Morph tells Logan. “We’ll talk later, okay big guy?”
The stubborn set of that heavy jaw says Logan knows damn well ‘later’ means ‘never,’ and he isn’t gonna let Morph weasel out of this that easy. “If you ever want me to let you off this plane, you’ll talk now.”
“Let me?” Morph scoffs. He transforms into Quicksilver, puts on his best smug speedster grin, and says, “Just try and stop me, slowpoke.”
To his shock, Logan actually flinches. It’s a subtle thing, Morph might not have even noticed if he didn’t know Logan so well. The cause eludes him, however—until Morph remembers that he looked like Maximoff when the Thrask Sentinel… when everything went dark and quiet for a few seconds.
Funny. There was a time when Morph, blinded by youthful naivety and hero-worship, would have insisted Wolverine wasn’t afraid of anything.
Returning to his default form, Morph mutters out an apology. He tries to imagine what it would be like to see Logan die, only for him to get up a few seconds later and act like nothing happened. With that healing factor of his, they’ve gotten damned close to that exact scenario more than a few times.
How much worse would it feel, if Logan had kept his quick-healing abilities secret and Morph had to find out the hard way?
Morph takes a breath, looks out the window at the black clouds rushing by, and starts from the beginning.
“You know how most of us don’t know we’re mutants until we hit puberty, and our powers manifest? Well… I didn’t have to wait that long. Problem is, since I was just a baby, I had no idea how to control my powers—no more than a normal baby is born knowing how to walk or talk.
He holds out his hands with his palms cupped together to form a shallow, makeshift bowl.
“When I was born, I looked like a wriggling lump of white clay, about yay-big. No arms or legs, no face, no ears, no eyes. Just a mouth that would appear somewhere on my body whenever I was hungry or wanted to cry.”
Whatever Logan was expecting to hear, from the look on his face, it clearly wasn’t that.
“But even at that tender age, someone clearly recognized my star potential. I was only two days old when I made my media debut: Severely Deformed MUTANT Born In Pittsburgh Hospital.” Morph shrugs. “Not the most positive review, I’ll admit, but you know what they say: all publicity is good publicity. After all, that’s how the professor found me.”
Logan’s frown returns, more confused than angry. “You told me you didn’t meet Xavier until you were thirteen—after your mom passed.”
“That’s when I moved to the Institute. Turns out we actually met quite a lot earlier than I remembered, which is pretty embarrassing. Ideally, you don’t want to meet your future high school principal, college instructor, mentor, and world famous civil rights leader while wearing a diaper. Even worse, I was wearing a diaper, too—and I told him, mister, one of us is going to have to go home and change his outfit and it sure isn’t going to be me.”
That gets him a smile and a huff of a laugh, which would be an encouraging sign if he didn’t know how the story ends.
“So Xavier talked to my parents, explained the whole ‘mutant thing.’ Dad wasn’t happy. Then again, I’m not sure he ever was. He would have been disappointed to have a girl—a sentient lump of polymorphic biomass was right out. Thankfully, Xavier was able to use his telepathy to coach me through my very first transformation. He showed me how to turn into a normal baby boy, who would eventually grow up to look like this.”
Morph transforms into his old default, the one he still uses whenever he wants to pass: pale (although not that pale) skin, brown eyes, brown hair, hooked nose, pointed chin, gaunt cheeks, arched brows. Not exactly Fabio, but it’s the face Logan used to know him by—the face he sometimes worries Logan might secretly still prefer.
“Then he put some psychic blocks in place to limit my powers to something a bit more… manageable. Don’t give me that look. It sounds shady, but the professor messing with my head was the only reason I got to have a normal, happy childhood with my parents. God only knows what would have happened otherwise—if I’d even be alive now.”
The worry and suspicion that appeared on Logan’s face at the mention of psychic tampering grudgingly fade away. “When did you find out?” he asks instead.
“A couple months after the professor… y’know,” Morph sighs. “I hacked his personal files. Since he wouldn’t be around anymore to help you recover your memories, I hoped that maybe I could find something small he overlooked, some clue that might give us an idea where to look next.”
Logan’s eyes widen and his mouth goes slightly slack. “Morph…”
“I didn’t find anything, before you get excited. Not about you, anyway. Sure found out a lot about myself, though—a lot more than I was bargaining for.”
“That’s when your default form changed,” Logan realizes.
“Yeah. It was kind of hard to think of this,” Morph replies, gesturing at the face of his human-passing form, “as my ‘real’ face after that. Not that my new look is any more real, of course.”
“Who else knows?”
“Other than our friends listening to this conversation right now?” Morph asks pointedly, causing an entire plane full of X-Men to each make their best attempt at looking busy. Nightcrawler’s method of peering thoughtfully at the radio controls with one hand on his chin is particularly masterful—Logan mentioned he used to perform in a circus, so it’s no wonder he’s got such a good instinct for stage-business. “I told Hank and Moira not long after I found out. Seemed like a bad idea to keep that information from my doctors. Especially when one of them is also my therapist.”
At receiving a glare from Logan, Beast develops a sudden and convenient fascination with the view through the Blackbird’s window.
“But you didn’t want anyone else to know.” Logan could accept that, even if he doesn’t like it. Nothing personal. A man’s business is man's business, after all—even for a not-quite-man like Morph.
Too bad it wouldn’t be the truth; no more ‘real’ than any face that Morph wears.
“I didn’t want you to know.”
Morph can handle Logan’s anger, no problem. That’s almost charming, after all these years. But it’s the flicker of hurt, just like that little flinch earlier, that really cuts him to the quick.
“Not because I don’t trust you, or want to keep things from you or anything, it’s just… I didn’t—I couldn’t—”
He sighs and looks away again. He transforms back into his new default: smooth white skin, mask-like face. Obviously inhuman.
Still a lot more human than he looked when he was born, though.
“So, yeah. That’s why I’ve apparently gained the ability to survive having my head blown off. It sure would have been handy to know that my organs were optional the last time a Sentinel put me down. Now, instead of being out of commission for two years I’ll never get back, I can just squish myself back together and keep on keepin’ on.”
Logan doesn’t respond, and slowly, the mutter of other conversations step in to fill the void. Morph stares at nothing, sick with nerves. It’s deeply unfair that he can still feel nauseous even though he doesn’t have a stomach anymore.
He would say it’s all in his head, but if he can survive without one, maybe he doesn’t have a brain, either.
Badum-tch.
Good line. Hopefully he’ll remember it after the existential horror wears off, in the brief window when things will be funny again before the heartbreak sinks in.
Because there’s dropping a bombshell on a relationship—then there’s dropping a fucking nuke.
Oh God. There isn’t going to be a window, is there?
“Morph. Look at me.”
Although he considers pretending he didn’t hear the command, Morph reluctantly glances across the center aisle of the Blackbird to see Logan looking back at him with an expression as soft as the heart he usually tries to hide.
“No matter what you look like, there’s one thing you’ve never been able to change,” Logan tells him. “That’s real enough for me.”
A wiser person might realize they were in a hole and stop digging; Morph can’t stop himself from opening his big stupid mouth. No wonder that was the one feature even Baby Morph knew to give himself. “There are more blocks Xavier left behind that I haven’t pushed through, yet. Maybe I’ll even figure out how to change my scent, someday.”
From the look on his face, Logan clearly hadn’t considered that possibility. Morph immediately wishes he could take it back, feeling like he’s just tarnished something sacred.
It’s always been strangely intimate, the way Logan can recognize him by scent alone. Even from the beginning, when Morph decided to pull a prank on the grumpy new recruit, only for Wolverine to sniff him out mere seconds into his planned routine—it was as if, like the Emperor’s New Clothes, he suddenly realized he had been naked the entire time.
Another, smarter shapeshifter might have avoided Logan after that; Morph couldn’t get enough.
One-sided pestering turned into an unlikely friendship, turned into friends-with-benefits, turned into… whatever they have now. That which dares not speak its name.
The thought of losing that connection, the idea that someday he may be able to change himself so thoroughly that even Logan won’t be able to recognize him anymore… It’s too awful. Cursed knowledge. Like learning about the solar cycle when he was a kid, and suddenly having the horrible realization: if even the sun is going to die someday, what makes him so sure Mom will get better?
Out of the corner of his eye, Morph sees Logan’s hand start to move, stop, then start again, reaching across the aisle towards him. For a insane, terrifying moment, he thinks Logan’s about to hold his hand, outing them in front of God, the other X-Men, and everybody—but of course, that enormous, rough mitt lands on his shoulder instead. Perfectly platonic, approved for all audiences by S&P.
Though they’re shooting through the air at supersonic speed, under the heavy weight of that hand, Morph feels rooted to stable ground. He closes his eyes and takes a few slow breaths he doesn’t actually need, with lungs he only has when he remembers to make himself some.
If there are any people left when the sun finally burns out in a few billion years, they’ll still be telling each other jokes as they go into that endless good night. Just think of the money we’ll save on sunscreen. Maybe, but you know the light-bulb companies are gonna take us to the cleaners. Ha ha, freeze frame, theme song, end credits.
Even as her body slowly wasted away under the combined onslaught of cancer and chemo, Mom always laughed at his jokes, no matter how many times she heard the one about the chicken who crossed the road. His most appreciative audience, to the very last curtain call.
The world is pretty fucking scary right now, and only getting scarier. Sinister. Genosha. Losing Gambit. Sentinels again, in all new and even more monstrous forms. Even worse: total war between humans and mutants looming over the horizon, shaking the ground with each step, getting closer and more inevitable every time someone mentions it, like a demon whose power grows every time you says its name.
But just because things are scary doesn’t mean the world's turning into a horror movie, and just because things are sad doesn’t make it a tragedy. Everyone gets to choose the genre of their life story—and Morph will always pick comedy.
He gives the hand on his shoulder a friendly pat, and uses the motion to disguise a slightly more-than-friendly squeeze. “I’m alright, just a little airsick. I think it’s making me maudlin.”
As he pulls his hand back, Logan frowns a little in confusion—he knows Morph is experienced enough in the air that he shouldn’t be getting nauseous over what are, for the Blackbird, barely above pleasure-cruise speeds.
“How unfair is that, by the way?” Morph asks. “I don’t even have a stomach right now.”
Logan chuckles. Nah, baby, don’t give it up for me that easy, Morph thinks, fighting a grin. You gotta make me work for it a little…
He needn’t have worried, though. When he does make it to the punchline, Logan laughs so hard that he snorts, the laugh-lines Morph has personally carved into that seemingly indestructible face creasing and growing deeper still. And as their friends who Definitely Weren’t Eavesdropping join in—even Rogue, so teary and congested that her laughs would sound like sobs if she wasn’t smiling—Morph knows all their attempts to hide their relationship have been for nothing, because there’s no way that all the love he feels for Logan in that moment isn’t writ large all over whichever face he's wearing right now.
That’s real enough for him.
#x men 97#x men#morph#wolverine#morpherine#my stuff#wait what this actually ended up good#have I actually been a good writer this whole time and just too depressed to notice?#what the fuck that's not fair
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Dialogue Lines: Whumpee/Whumper/Caretaker Variations
(TWs: torture, cursing, collars, implied murder, drugging, nightmares)
~~~
Whumpee
Classic Whumpee Lines
1. “Touch me and it’s fucking over for you.”
2. “Please, please, I-I didn’t mean to—I didn’t mean to mess up, please don’t hurt me!”
3. “What’s the point of trying? I’m never getting out of here.”
4. “I-It hurts…it h-hurts so bad…why won’t it g-go away…?”
5. “Keep me chained up here all you want. You’re never gonna hear shit from me, buddy.”
~
Whumpee turned Caretaker
1. “Hey, I know, I know how much it hurts. Just breathe. Think of something else. That’s what helped me.”
2. “They got you too? That bastard. I’m so sorry.”
3. “Yes, I do! I do fucking understand, because I lived it! Now let me help you!”
4. “I didn’t get someone to help me through this when I was there. I want to be that person for you.”
5. “You remind me of myself…back then. Before they broke me.”
~
Whumpee turned Whumper
1. “Payback, bitch.”
2. “No. You don’t get to complain. Don’t you remember the rules against speaking out?”
3. “This collar…oh yeah, you remember it, huh? You always liked it on the tightest setting, didn’t you? Let’s start with that.”
4. “Back then, before you, I always thought every person deserved mercy. But no. You’re not even a person.”
5. “Wait, you’re crying? Come on, Whumper, are you kidding?! It took you weeks to make me cry for the first time, and you’re giving up on the first day?”
~~~
Caretaker
Classic Caretaker Lines
1. “This is gonna hurt. It’ll be over soon.”
2. “You think a little nightmare’s gonna hurt you? Nah. I’m here now. I’ll fight it off.”
3. “Just let them down for a second—Let me at least give them some water, it’s been almost two days!”
4. “I don’t know how you were even able to go through something like that…you’re stronger than I’ll ever be.”
5. “Come on, get up. Fresh bandage time—no, I don’t have to clean them today. That’s tomorrow.”
~
Caretaker turned Whumpee
1. “How…h-how did Whumpee do this?”
2. “Anything. I’ll be anything you fucking want me to be—just let them go.”
3. “Sorry, friend, I’m not gonna break as easily as they did. Bummer.”
4. “Wait, y-you didn’t…you didn’t tell me you did this to them…no, k-keep that away from me!”
5. “Whumpee, when they hurt me, just look away. Please.”
~
Caretaker turned Whumper
1. “Who else could have slipped those drugs into your food? Come on now, think a little quicker than that, Whumpee.”
2. “It feels kinda wrong, but…when you’d have nightmares, I…I kinda liked to listen.”
3. “I’m sick of taking care of everyone all the damn time. Well, guess what? Now you have no one.”
4. “Yeah, I’ve got them where you want them. They think they’re safe, but they won’t know what hit them.”
5. “Crazy how I used to patch these scars up…now, I get to make more.”
~~~
Whumper
Classic Whumper Lines
1. “Good morning. Come on, get up. I have so much planned for you today.”
2. “You’re so cute when you try to fight back. It’s like you’re not even trying.”
3. “Aw, you had a nightmare? Was it about me? I hope it was about me.”
4. “Don’t try and be a fucking actor. You and I both know you’re terrified.”
5. “Found you.”
~
Whumper turned Whumpee
1. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry for what I did, just…p-please, have mercy…”
2. “That all you’ve got? I used to hit you three times as hard.”
3. “No. I’m not apologizing. No matter how much you torture me. I regret nothing.”
4. “H-Hey, come on, we can be friends, right? You know I didn’t really mean all those things…h-hey, wait, get away from me!”
5. “No…maybe I deserve this. Maybe this is what I’m getting in return for all the things I did to you.”
~
Whumper turned Caretaker
1. “Hey, it’s okay, it’s just me! …Oh.”
2. “The nightmare…it was about me, wasn’t it?”
3. “I know you can’t ever forgive me…but let me at least do this one thing for you.”
4. “Okay, okay, yes, I did make that scar, but I’m the only one who knows how to make it better, so would you stop moving?!”
5. “Fuck, I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…”
#whump#whump blog#whump community#whump writing#whump scenario#dialogue lines#whump lines#whump dialogue#Whumper lines#caretaker lines#Whumpee lines#Whumper to caretaker#Whumper to Whumpee#caretaker to Whumper#caretaker to whumpee#Whumpee to Whumper#Whumpee to caretaker#tw torture#tw cursing#tw drugging#tw collar#tw implied murder#tw nightmares
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📖"Breeding the Winter Soldier"
Rated: Explicit
Word Count: 7893
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes
Tags: a/b/o, Omega Bucky, Alpha Steve, Hydra wins, dark AU, forced mating, breeding program, coerced sex, restraints, heats/ruts, forced to fuck, past Bucky x Brock, HTP adjacent, mind control, anal sex, hurt/comfort (mostly comfort)
A.N.: this was written all the way back in 2017!
Breeding the Winter Soldier
“Looks like they gave Cap his assignment,” Rollins chuckles from where he’s sitting, boots propped up on the observation room’s control panel. “Doesn’t seem too happy about being told he’s gotta breed ‘im.”
Brock scoffs lightly, unable to help himself from lighting up out of frustration as he stares through the one-way glass window at their prisoner. Smoking isn’t allowed inside the facility, but that’s never stopped Brock. “This is bullshit,” he complains around the cigarette between his lips, tossing the spent match to the floor as he gets a good first lungful of nicotine. Beyond the window, Captain fucking America—or what used to be Captain America— is pacing, pacing, pacing, distressed at the news. Brock seethes quietly. “Project Genesis is mine. He was supposed to be mine.”
And now Steven Grant Rogers is the one they want instead. The superior choice, apparently, for siring little super-soldiers. Brock had broken whatever he’d been holding when he’d first heard the order come down—a coffee mug, he thinks it was. The order strictly reassigned him as handler only to the asset, the one to supervise the project. Supervise. Brock cringes at the restriction of the word. He’s been the asset’s commanding officer for going on five years now. Unofficially, he’s been his alpha for two. He’s the one who knows the asset, understands him. He’s the only one who knows how to make him work right, how to get through to him. He’s the one who cares about him, who satisfies him through his heats. And now Hydra is forcing him to give that all away?
His mate is going to be so confused.
Rollins tells him to chill. “I’m sure they’ll still let you fuck around with him once he’s pupped a few litters.”
“That’s not the fucking point!” Brock roars, angry but not at Rollins. Jack seems to know this, as he doesn’t move at all from his lazy posture in the chair. “He’s my omega. I’m perfectly capable of breeding him, if that’s what they want.”
Rollins shrugs. “You ain’t got that super soldier sperm.”
“Captain. Hail Hydra.”
Steve looks up from where he’s been eating his breakfast and frowns at the sight of Rumlow. It’s strange and upsetting to see people that he knew from before. People who he’d thought were the good guys. Brock looks the same as he did a year ago. Same haircut, same face, same tactical gear that he used to wear when he was on Shield’s Strike team, when he was Steve’s friend. Only now there is no Shield, and there are no friends. Now they all belong to Hydra whether they want to or not.
“Hail Hydra,” Steve mumbles into the cold milk of his cereal.
“Gotta come with me, Cap,” Rumlow tells him. “Today’s the day.”
Steve looks up at him, eyes angry and tired. “I’m not doing it,” he says. He’s fucking not doing it. They can’t make him.
“I’m not in the mood for this today.” Rumlow calls in the four guards that he’s brought with him and has them stand there with their stun batons as a warning for Steve. Before, they never would’ve been enough to keep him subdued. But that was before. Steve knows it’ll be no use trying to fight them off. He lets his spoon drop into the cereal bowl.
They take him down to the wing where they keep Bucky, to a room with a bed, a minifridge and an exam chair. It’s a heat suite, where they intend to force him to do this, Steve supposes. Bucky’s not there. There’s a tech waiting for them and when Steve lays eyes on the prepped syringes he tenses, tries to turn around. He winds up with a stun baton jammed to his neck and the next thing he knows he’s restrained in the chair. The tech is bringing a needle over and Steve pulls with all his might against the mag restraints. They don’t budge. “Relax,” Rumlow says. He’s standing beside Steve. “It’s just something to help you.”
“Help me how?” Steve asks, afraid. He’s already drugged up six ways to Sunday. Drugs to keep him weak, drugs to keep him dazed, drugs to keep him calm. If he didn’t heal so rapidly his inner arms would look like pincushions by now. The injections erase who he is, erase any possibility of a fight, let alone an escape. He doesn’t want any more injections.
“Something to kickstart your rut,” Brock says. He points to the other needles, one by one. “An aphrodisiac. A benzo to lower your inhibitions. Hormones to increase the chances of conceiving.”
Steve sneers. “I’m not doing it. I’m not hurting him.”
“You sure as hell better not,” Brock tells him, and there’s something about the way that he says it that has Steve paying closer attention. Steve takes notice of how tense Rumlow seems, upset almost. He smells the sour tint of possessiveness rolling off of him. “He’s mine,” Brock says. It’s obvious he’s not talking about his role as Bucky’s handler.
Steve squints for a moment. “…No,” he says, eyes widening. Rumlow smirks when he sees that Steve is finally figuring it out. “You’ve had him.”
“Wow. Took you long enough Cap. Thought you would’ve at least smelled him on me, all the times I fucked him before passing you in the hall.”
Steve grits his teeth, fury building in him in a way that he didn’t think was possible, not with all of the mood stabilizers Hydra’s got him on. “You fucking raped him?!” The tech comes over and jabs Steve while he’s distracted, not that he can move much in the restraints anyway. The needle stings going in, but the anger coursing through him is worse than the cold flush of medicine through his veins.
Brock looks at Steve with contempt. “I’m his handler. He hasn’t been raped since I started caring for him.”
Steve pants in his seat, feeling his temperature start to climb as the drugs work into his system. “Is that what you call it?” he sneers. “You think you’re taking care of him?”
“I know you’re not happy about this,” Brock tells him. “But let me tell you something: neither am I.”
“What are you talking about?”
Brock tells the tech to get out of the room. He orders the AI system that they stole from Stark Industries to stop monitoring them. Once they’re all alone he tells Steve, “He’s mine, Rogers.” Steve growls at him and that makes Rumlow roll his eyes. He drags a stool over to sit right in front of where Steve is restrained. “What you’re participating in? It’s called Project Genesis.”
“Yeah, trying to make baby supersoldiers, I get it,” Steve snaps. “I’m not doing it.”
“It’s the only fucking reason you’re alive right now,” Brock tells him. “And it’s the only reason he’s not gathering dust in some cryo vault.”
Steve can’t suppress his frown. “What?”
Brock sighs. “You’ve both been decommissioned. Hydra is a major world power now. One or two enhanced assets aren’t worth our time anymore. An army of supersoldiers, however, is. That’s what he’s still useful for.”
“You son of a bitch.”
“Yeah? How do you think I feel?” Brock snaps. “I was the one who was supposed to breed him. Was working on it just fine till they brought you in. I’m sure you think he’ll be happy to see you but let me tell you, he won’t.” Brock can smell the change coming over the other alpha, can smell his body ramping up for a rut. Beneath the scent of sex hormones is the sour tinge of chemicals. It makes Brock want to curl his nose and bare his teeth in a challenge, or maybe turn away to escape the smell altogether. “He doesn’t know you Cap, and you’re just going to scare him if you come at him acting like he should be glad to see you.”
Steve glares at him. “He does remember me. He knew me on the helicarrier.” Bucky had known him. He had.
But Brock shakes his head. “No. He only has bits and pieces Rogers. He’s my omega. I bonded to him years ago.”
Steve growls and pulls at his restraints again. “No!”
“Calm the fuck down!” Brock leans in closer. He looks mad. Smells mad too. “This isn’t about you or me. It’s not up to us. Do you think I’d let you touch him if it was?”
“He’s not yours,” Steve grits out. “And I’m not going to touch him.”
Brock huffs. “You wait till those drugs kick in, you’ll be singing a different tune.” He looks at Steve seriously. “And just so you know, he’s already in heat.”
Steve’s eyes widen at that. “What?”
“Yeah. He’s hot and aching and he knows what his mission is. He’s not going to fight it,” Brock says. “But he’s expecting me. He’s expecting someone that he knows to help him feel better. And he’s going to be confused when I bring him in here and tell him that he has to let another alpha fuck him. A stranger. So I need for you to calm down. I don’t want him scared. You and I are going to talk to him together and you’re going to be gentle with him.”
Steve can feel arousal building in himself, and it’s strange to feel that while he’s sitting there next to Rumlow, being told all of this. The chemically-induced rut is coming on fast. “Shit,” he curses, head falling back to the chair behind him. He can feel himself firming up beneath the thin cotton of his sleep pants and he hates that he can’t hide it from Rumlow. “I can’t do this. Please don’t make me do this.”
“Get it together Cap,” Rumlow snaps, unhappy.
“Fuck you!” Steve spits.
Brock sighs. “I was hoping you’d shut up but I can see that’s not going to happen. He crosses the room only to return with a gag in his hands. He forces Steve’s jaw open and presses the ball gag in, saying nothing about the fight Steve puts up. Once it’s secured and Steve is heaving angry breaths at him, Brock says, “I’m going to get him now. If you care about him at all you won’t make this worse for him than it has to be.” He gets up and leaves through the room’s only door and Steve is forced to wait long minutes, panting and sweating at the oncoming rush of a forced rut.
The asset is relieved when its handler comes to retrieve it. It entered its heat hours ago and has had to wait, alone and aching, in the little room. “Come on James,” the handler says when the asset stands from its little cot, and the asset remembers that this is supposed to be its name. He’s never heard it before—not from anyone besides his handler. It's probably invented, but he likes that he uses it. Even if it’s made up, it’s something special between just the two of them.
Now they’ll go to the other room, the one where they always go when he is to be bred. James looks forward to it because he knows it’ll make him feel better. Brock (that’s his handler’s name. He’s allowed to use it when they’re alone) will give him everything he needs, will knot him and hopefully fill him with pups. That’s their mission. So far they’ve been unsuccessful but the asset thinks it’s because his heats used to be so unpredictable. Now he’s been out of cryo long enough that he’s cycling regularly again, his body ready for a pregnancy.
The asset has never thought about reproducing. An assassin doesn’t think of such things, a weapon certainly doesn’t. But James does. James doesn’t mind his new mission. He hasn’t told his handler, but he secretly prefers serving Hydra this way over what he used to do. This way he doesn’t have to go into the cold. And they don’t wipe him. And there’s someone who cares for him—his alpha. Deep down, he secretly likes the idea of having a baby, something that’s his that isn’t garbage or government-issued. Something that’s all his. He doesn’t tell his handler about this either.
They enter the other room and there is someone else there. It’s a man, an alpha. He’s restrained and in rut, that much is clear right away. The asset is nearly knocked back by the abrupt smell of him. Brock notices and laughs, reaching to grab him by the arm and pull him closer. “Easy babe.”
The asset scans his eyes over the man on the chair. He’s big. Tall and muscled, with blond hair and handsome features. He’s clearly upset. He struggles against his bonds as they approach, making useless sounds through the gag in his mouth. The asset looks questioningly at Brock. “Who is he?” He’s not really supposed to ask questions unprompted, but over time he’s learned that it’s okay with his handler, with Brock.
“His name is Captain Rogers,” Brock says. “Former SHIELD operative. He’s an enhanced like you are.”
The asset nods. He was unaware that there were others like himself. There used to be a program, but it had failed. He can remember helping, being tasked with training a group of men and women to make them stronger, better. But they’d gone wild and had been eliminated. The mission had failed.
“We have new orders,” Brock tells him, and this is when he takes his hand, squeezes it reassuringly. James purrs at the contact, moves to begin removing his clothes as is expected of him. But Brock stops him. “Wait, babe.”
The man in the chair growls at the pet name and James whines. He doesn’t want the other alpha to be there. He wants to be naked, in a bed, under his mate. “I’m hot,” he points out. “I need to get undressed.”
“You can,” Brock tells him. He pets the side of James’ face. “But I’m not going to be here with you.”
The asset frowns in confusion. “What?” He doesn’t understand. This is the breeding room. James is in heat. It’s their mission—they’ll be punished if they don’t complete it. The asset tilts his head, baring his neck, trying to show his alpha how ready he is. “Alpha please,” he whines. He’d hit the floor and present if not for the other alpha in the room. “I’m in heat. I need it.”
Brock shushes him, gentles a hand down his side. It feels good but it’s not nearly enough. “I know baby, I know. You’ll get a knot, just not mine.” The asset is confused again, but only for a second. His eyes dart over to where the other alpha is bound. Brock sees this and he nods, “Yeah baby, you’re going to mate with him.”
“What?” A low noise of distress leaves James’ throat, unbidden. He’s not supposed to make noises like that. But Brock never punishes him for such mistakes, not when it’s just the two of them. “No. You’re supposed to do it. You’re my mate,” he says, feeling scared. He’s not supposed to argue with directions. “Alpha?” he says, trying to press his nose into Brock’s neck, trying to ignore the other man in the room. “The mission,” he urges. “Breed me. Put pups in me.”
But Brock just kisses his temple and sets him back firmly. “Sorry babe,” he says. “It’s orders.”
Steve tries to speak through the gag but of course it’s no use.
He is forced to sit there and watch as Rumlow comes into the room with Bucky, holding his hand, for Christ’s sake. Bucky doesn’t seem to mind at all. He makes a pleased sound whenever Brock touches him, and when he calls him pet names. Steve feels his guts lurch at the obvious show of affection between them. He feels jealously flare up in his core like a rabid animal, wanting to kill the other alpha for touching Bucky, for trying to claim the omega that should be his.
That, he knows, is his rut talking. It’s gotten worse in the past ten minutes since Brock left him here, tied to the exam chair and gagged. Steve’s skin itches and his pulse throbs. Between his legs, he’s hard. And now that Bucky has come into the room, now that Steve can smell him, it’s so much worse. Bucky smells like damp, cloying earth. He smells like dark, cramped spaces and tangled up bodies. He smells like something Steve wants to bury his face in and not come up for air from. Steve takes one look at him and feels the urge to chase him, catch him, pin him down come unbidden. All he can do is wiggle ineffectively in his bonds.
In front of him, Brock is telling Bucky that he has to mate with Steve. Steve’s heart clenches when Bucky looks over to him, tense and afraid. His eyes do not hold recognition. Steve listens as Bucky pleads and whines to Brock, calling him his alpha, begging him to breed him instead. And Brock fucking comforts him, pets him and gives him a kiss and tells him it’s okay. Bucky looks like he never wants to leave Brock’s side. Steve clenches his eyes shut at the sight.
“Rogers.”
Steve’s eyes open. Brock is standing right in front of him. Bucky is still hanging back, looking unsure. “You see?” Brock says, and he’s not bragging or gloating or anything. He’s just trying to get Steve to listen. “He’s used to being with me, Cap. He doesn’t know you. Now are you gonna behave if I take that gag out? Not going to upset him?”
Steve glares at Rumlow, but after a moment manages a terse nod. The gag gets removed, and Steve takes a moment to swallow the spit in his mouth, lick his lips and crack his jaw. “Thanks,” he grunts, not feeling at all thankful.
Rumlow nods, chucks the gag away. “I’m not going to let you up from that chair yet,” he tells Steve. “That I’ll do remotely, once I’m out of the room.”
Steve sneers. “What? You afraid to be alone with me?”
Brock raises his eyebrows. “First of all, I’m not alone.” He nods back to Bucky. “I’ve got him. Don’t let his role in our breeding program fool you; he’s still perfectly capable of ending a man with his bare hands. If I give him the order to, that is. Secondly, I’m not going to let you out of that chair while I’m in the room because you’re in rut. A rut that we chemically engineered to match his heat. You’re geared up to attack any alpha that comes near him.”
Steve scoffs. “I’ve got better control than you, animal.”
Brock looks back at Bucky and calls him over, but he calls him James, and that rankles Steve more than anything else yet. “Come here James,” Rumlow says. He holds out his arm and Bucky comes over obediently. “This is Steve. He’s not a big fan of mine, I’m sure you can tell.”
“Bucky,” Steve says urgently. “Bucky I’m not going to hurt you. Okay? Don’t worry.”
“Who the hell is Bucky?” Bucky murmurs to Brock.
Brock glares at Steve. “I told you Cap. He doesn’t know any of that.” Brock pulls Bucky closer, encourages him to go up and touch Steve where he’s restrained to the chair. “Go ahead babe. You heard him: he won’t hurt you. Have a look at him.”
Bucky does. He inches closer until his leg hits the side of the chair. He reaches forward with careful fingers, as if Steve is a wild animal that might bite. Bucky’s eyes are cold and calculating as they pass over Steve, no recognition to them. Not like Steve wants. “He’s healthy,” Bucky murmurs, almost as if he’s afraid to say it. “Strong.” Behind, Brock chuckles a little.
“Yeah he is. Don’t worry though. He won’t be rough on you.” Brock meets Steve’s eyes over Bucky’s head. “I have it on good authority. He’s going to be real gentle.”
Bucky doesn’t react to this, and Steve feels as if he can hardly breathe as Bucky continues to examine him. He touches Steve’s arms, his legs, his chest. Steve is still clothed, but the touches ramp up the desire that the drugs have kickstarted. In his pants, he’s hard as a rock. Bucky leans down and sticks his nose into Steve’s neck, scenting at the glands there. It’s all Steve can do not to moan where he’s sitting, all he can do not to try and thrust his hips up the way his body wants to. After a long inspection, Bucky seems to make up his mind about Steve. He stands back and away, looks to Brock. “He’ll sire good pups. I understand why he’s been chosen.” He nods once to show his obedience in the matter. “I’ll complete the mission.”
Brock smiles at him. “Good boy.”
“Buck you don’t have to do anything these sacks of shit tell you to—”
“Cap,” Rumlow warns, “That ain’t the way. He WILL do what we tell him to. And if you’re resisting, he’ll take you by force. That how you want this to go?”
Steve grimaces at the threat, imagining the absurdity of Bucky raping him. “He should have a choice,” Steve tells Rumlow darkly, hating the man with every fiber of his being. “Does this make you proud?” he asks. “Treating him like a thing? Violating him?” Steve forces himself to meet Rumlow’s eyes in an imploring manner. “You said that you mated him. If that’s true, is this really what you want for him?”
Rumlow shakes his head, looks at Steve as if he’s incredibly thickheaded. “You just don’t get it, do ya Cap?” He walks over, takes a hold of Bucky’s neck and pulls him in for a deep kiss. Steve watches the display with horror, especially once Bucky brings both of his hands up to cradle Rumlow’s jaw. Brock pulls away from Bucky, their lips separating with a pop, and he glares at Steve. “This isn’t about ‘want’. It’s about following orders.” With that he pushes Bucky up to stand close to Steve, turning away before either man can stop him. “Now just shut up, lay back, and get him pregnant,” he throws over his shoulder as he walks out the door.
James tries not to feel anything when his mate leaves the room. He tries to slip back into the mindset of the Asset, a place where feelings are irrelevant. Brock has explained the parameters of the mission, has given the soldier his orders. Now James will execute. He tips his ear towards the door, his enhanced hearing helping him to pick up on the sounds of many intricate locking mechanisms being set. He flicks his gaze back up to the body of the other man—the man they’ve chosen to sire his pups.
James wants to sneer, feels like maybe he does. He shuffles uncomfortably in place, wetness already growing sticky and cool where it’s seeped into the back of his pants. He wonders if Captain Rogers can smell it. Stepping close to the chair where he’s restrained, James examines the mag cuffs that hold him in place. They’re similar to the ones that his handlers use on him. It makes James wonder just how strong this man is. Brock had said he was enhanced. He tilts his head in curiosity.
“… Bucky—”
“Directive clarification,” James calls out to the room, ignoring whatever the Captain had been about to say to him. James doesn’t wait for a response; he knows they’re being watched. “Am I to mount him like this?” he asks, not particularly caring either way. He shouldn’t care about this stranger’s comfort during the act—he’s not Brock. The soldier has his orders and James has no choice. He has to do it. A quick glance shows him what he can already smell: Captain Rogers is fully erect beneath his clothing. On the chair or in a bed, he’ll be easy enough for James to take inside of his body. But a crackle comes through the speakers in the ceiling, echoing Brock’s voice into the room:
“Use the bed if you want. He’s been chemically subdued so he shouldn’t be able to put up much a fight. Releasing mag cuffs in three, two...”
In the next second the restraints on the chair click open, and James turns back in time to see Captain Rogers pulling his arms away from the chair. He sits up, swinging his legs over the side. His bare feet touch the floor but he remains perched on the chair’s edge. For the first time, James realizes that the Captain is dressed in sleeping clothes. A standard issue tee shirt and cotton pants are all he wears. “Bucky,” he says again, holding out an arm in James’ direction. It is unclear if the gesture is meant to beckon James closer or to keep him at bay. James is not unaware that, omega or not, he presents a threatening image to most men. With this in mind he narrows his stance, draws his shoulders down to seem as small and nonthreatening as possible. Hopefully this will keep the Captain from trying to do something as counterproductive as running, or fighting.
“I realize you don’t recognize me, but don’t be scared. I’m not going to hurt you. My name’s Steve.
James blinks at him. He takes stock of the situation. Captain Rogers—Steve—has been made aware of his role in the breeding program. He’s been given his orders just like James has, but he’s resisting. James can smell it on him, the warring scents of desire and disgust. James steps closer, tilting his head to the side once he’s just in front of him. “Smell that?” he asks, being sure to keep his eyes cast down. The Captain’s hands are clenched tightly by his sides as James bares his neck in a submissive gesture. “Come on,” he says as gently as he can. “Alpha?”
“Don’t,” Steve bites out. He sounds pained. “Don’t call me that Buck.”
James bites his cheek, thinking he may just have to use physical force if this man won’t listen. “You’re in forced rut,” he says, trying again. “That can’t feel good.”
Steve huffs an abortive laugh. “Yeah.”
“You’re flushed,” James tells him. There is perspiration all along the collar of Steve’s tee. “And you’re hot. Burning-up-inside hot. Believe me I know how it feels. When you’re so desperate that you’re miserable?” He reaches for the hem of his own shirt, pulls it quickly over his head. He knows that the movement makes his scent burst into the air. Now his top half is exposed and James has to hold in the sigh that wants to come at the relief of having that much less clothing on his body. He tosses his shirt aside. In front of him, Steve’s nostrils are flaring. “It doesn’t have to be like that,” he tells him, “You can have me. It’ll help.”
Steve’s fingers sink into the chair’s cushion, little bits of foam padding ripping out and falling to the floor. His scent is soaring—a deep, rich scent like copper and burnt wood. James grits his teeth at the sudden urge to drop and present. He slowly reaches out with his flesh hand and touches Steve’s thigh. “Why are you afraid?” he asks. It’d be nice to know. Everyone always seems to know more than he does…
“I can’t hurt you like this Buck. I just can’t.”
James shushes him, ignores the continued use of that nonsensical name, Bucky. “You won’t,” he soothes, pulling lightly at the fabric of Steve’s pants in an effort to get him to slide off the chair. “I’m in heat. I’m ready. It won’t hurt.”
Steve scoffs, but he does allow himself to be moved. Standing barefoot, they come eye to eye. “That’s not the kind of hurt I meant.”
James ignores the clench his heart gives as he thinks of Brock. He wonders if his alpha is watching from another room, observing them through a little camera. He hopes not. “Come here,” James says, pulling Steve forward. Steve’s hands find their way to his hips, and James feels more slick rush out of his body at the contact. He whimpers without meaning to. “Scent me,” he says, tilting his head again. He’s pressing up against Steve, their bodies connected from thigh to chest. He can feel the alpha’s erection and he’s certain that Steve can feel his. But that hardly matters as Steve releases an answering growl somewhere in his throat. His head dips down and he buries his nose in the crook of James’ neck. James’ breath leaves him in a satisfied puff. He’s been in heat for nearly twenty-four hours with no relief until now. He’d been expecting Brock, his mate, but the mission has changed.
His body has already decided for him, he realizes. It doesn’t matter that this isn’t Brock. Doesn’t matter that it’s a stranger who’s been selected to put pups in him. James’ body recognizes this Steve for what he is; a strong, virile alpha.
The Asset grabs Steve with his metal hand, pushing him towards the bed before the other man can protest.
Steve stumbles over his own feet, not having been prepared for the rough grab and push of Bucky’s metal arm. He falls gracelessly back onto the room’s bed with a grunt. Bucky doesn’t give him time to recover. He’s there in a flash, one hand planted in the center of Steve’s chest and the other yanking down his pants. Bucky tosses them to the floor and reaches for Steve’s shirt. But Steve isn’t having it. He grabs Bucky’s arms and attempts to fight him. They grapple for all of three seconds before Bucky has him pinned, and Steve is panting furiously. The drugs make him so much weaker than before. With Bucky’s metal arm in play he doesn’t stand a chance. Begging is all he’s got left, it seems. “Please,” he says, staring imploringly. “You don’t want to do this.”
Bucky ignores him completely. He rips Steve’s tee shirt down the front like it’s paper, pulls it off of him and throws it somewhere in the general vicinity of where the pants had gone. Leaning forward over Steve’s now-naked body, he gives a very un-omega like growl. “Stay down.” He stands up and divests himself of the boots he’s wearing, then his pants.
Of course Steve doesn’t listen. He manages to prop himself up by the time Bucky’s taking his underwear off, and the scent that hits Steve then is so strong it makes him clench his eyes shut. “Fuck.” He can’t look at Bucky, he can’t or he’ll lose his shit. The bed dips and Steve jerks as Bucky pulls him to lie down again, too much naked skin pressed up along his own. “Bucky, don’t—” He’s cut off by lips crashing down on his own. Bucky wastes no time in forcing his way, mouthing and biting at Steve to make him open up. His hands pull at Steve’s hair and he fucks his tongue lewdly into his mouth. A garbled noise that probably would have been a moan had it been allowed to form leaves Steve, his hands grabbing the first part of Bucky they can find—his hips. Steve pulls on Bucky, whether to bring him closer or push him away he’s not sure, but he winds up tugging the other man fully atop him, and the second Steve feels him start rolling his hips downwards, he’s lost.
Bucky breaks the kiss, pulling away. Steve opens his eyes to see the omega staring at him, eyes a hard grey. He’s still fucking downwards, rubbing himself off against the crest of Steve’s groin, and his breath has become harsh. “This is our mission,” he breathes, sounding rough and desperate. “We have to. You have to.”
Steve feels sickness rise up and mingle with the desperation of his rut again. “No.”
“Yes.”
Steve repeats the ‘no’ several times more as Bucky continues to writhe against him, but his hands don’t loosen their hold on Bucky’s hips, and he doesn’t try to push Bucky off of him. “I can’t.”
Bucky makes an angry sound in his throat and yanks Steve’s head back with the grip he has on his hair. It’s his metal hand and it hurts. “You don’t have a choice,” he says. Steve growls at the dominant gesture, his hindbrain urging him to put the omega in his place. But Bucky leans closer again. For a second Steve thinks he’s going to kiss him, but he doesn’t. He puts his lips to Steve’s ear, the dark length of his hair falling around them. “Don’t make me take it,” he whispers, sounding desperate. His hips have not stopped moving. “Please. Alpha. You’re supposed to give it to me. Take me. Don’t make me do it.”
Steve groans. There’s nothing worse that Bucky could have said. He’s in heat, and Steve’s in rut, and now he’s calling Steve Alpha and begging Steve to mate with him the way that he wants it; to take him the way an alpha should take their omega. Steve opens his eyes to find Bucky staring at him once again, only this time his eyes are soft and his brow is pinched—pleading. He looks more like the Bucky that Steve remembers, and Steve can’t ignore the urge within himself to make that pleading look go away, to satisfy.
He flips them over. The only reason he’s able to do it is because he takes Bucky completely by surprise. Bucky’s eyes go wide for a moment, assessing a threat, before he realizes the move for what it is and he relaxes and purrs. Steve doubts himself immediately. He brings his hands to Bucky’s face, pleased when he’s not pushed away and Bucky fucking bends his neck to expose himself. “Alpha,” Bucky whines, but Steve’s not having it.
“You listen to me,” he says angrily, using the last goddamn piece of himself that he has left to convey seriousness in his tone. Bucky stares at him obediently and Steve swallows. “They don’t wipe my memory, got it? You may not remember me, but I remember you. And I won’t hurt you. I hurt you, you have to tell me. If you want to stop, you tell me. Got it?”
James frowns, even in his lust-ridden brain he knows he does. This stranger—no, some distant and unreachable part of his mind corrects, not a stranger—Steve—is referencing the wipes, is telling him that they’ve met before. James can’t disprove such a claim. He wonders if this Captain Rogers was once his handler, or possibly a target. He wonders if “Bucky” was his call sign then. Steve is still staring intently at him, waiting for his answer, and James shakes his head to get the thoughts to go away. They’re not important, not relevant to the mission. If his promise is all the Captain needs, then it means nothing to James to give it. “You won’t hurt me,” he says again, thinking that the alpha above him is stupid to imagine that he could, but adds, “I’ll tell you if you do.”
That seems to settle it for Steve. He comes down and kisses James’ forehead, leaves his lips to linger there in a manner that makes James distinctly uncomfortable—as if they are old friends, or family even. “Okay,” he says quietly. “Turn over.”
James flips, never having obeyed an order so quickly. He tries to push himself up to present but with Steve’s heavy weight at his back he can’t do it. Behind, he can feel the alpha’s hardness pressing between his cheeks and it makes him whine needily. This may be a mission, but he’s still been left wanting and unfulfilled for close to going on twenty four hours now. There are no feelings of doubt or discontent with the situation that James needs to force down to be a good soldier. He’s allowed to want this, and he does. “Alpha,” he urges when Steve doesn’t move to penetrate him. “Please. Now, please.”
He can feel the exact moment when Steve gives in. His hands are clamped tightly on James’ wrists to keep him still, but when James nearly begs to be fucked it seems to push the alpha off whatever edge of hesitance he’s still managing to hang onto. James can feel Steve’s cock on his ass as he allows himself to thrust at last. The teasing slide is made easier by the slick that’s gathered there. James groans in frustration, rubbing his face into the bed and fairly suffocating himself as he waits for the other man to get on with it and get inside of him. He’s aching for it, for the stretch and pressure of an alpha’s cock, for a knot. He knows he’ll start yelling in a moment if Steve doesn’t DO SOMETHING.
But he does, and James doesn’t have to yell at him after all. Steve presses up onto his arms, the sweaty warmth of his chest leaving James’ back. He positions himself, bumping against James’ hole, and it’s a relief that he forgoes the unnecessary gesture of using fingers first—James is sure he would snap at him if he tried. Steve presses inside, entering him slowly but never stopping until he’s fully seated, his hips flush with James’ ass. It’s not hard to take him in. James’ body is slick and ready for it and he groans lowly into the bed at the sheer relief of it. “Yesss,” he hisses, and turns his head as much as he can to look back at Steve. The man looks about as gone for it as James feels, and a dark thrill shoots through him at the thought that he’s about to be taken just the way he wants to be. Fucked and bred just the way his body is crying out for. It may not be Brock, but James has decided not to think about that. All he can think about in his current state is Steve; the smell of him, the feel of him, even the sounds he makes, it all feels too perfectly satisfying. Maybe it has something to do with the barrage of drugs the techs had shot him up with yesterday. Maybe. He’s not supposed to care though, and he doesn’t. He tries to thrust his hips backwards, wanting movement and having no idea how the other man can bear to hold so still now that they’re connected. There’s nowhere to go with Steve pinning him down at the hips, but he knows the Alpha feels him squirming, recognizes it for the request that it is. “Move,” James says, sounding more demanding than a good omega should. “God just…”
Steve has a hand in his hair and his nose in his neck before James can finish the sentence. A very low growl, almost a feeling more than a sound, is coming out steadily from his chest. It makes goosebumps break out on James’ arms. “Are you telling me what to do?” Steve asks.
Against the bed, Bucky’s mouth splits in a smug grin. This is what he wanted, what Brock would’ve done. At the height of his heats, all the asset wants, all James wants, is to be taken. To be held down and owned. James strains to look back over his shoulder. The angle is awkward but he ignores it, fixing Steve with what he hopes is a challenging stare. If he has to goad the alpha into a more feral headspace to get things done, then by god that’s exactly what he’ll do. “I came here to get fucked, so yeah, I am. Move,” he bites out, hoping that it will spur Steve into action. It does. He pulls out, ignoring James’ cry of protest. His big hands slide down to his hips and he gets onto his knees behind him. James follows, pressing back and presenting. He can feel Steve’s hands pulling him apart, baring his hole. There is silence and James knows without having to look that Steve is just staring at him. The thought of it makes him shudder. He presses his face into the bedding and whines.
“God,” Steve exclaims softly, dragging a thumb across his leaking hole. “You’re soaked.”
James cannot stop whining low, needy omega sounds. Then he feels the blunt head of Steve’s cock at his entrance and he moans. “Yes,” he hisses, though it’s muffled against the sheets. He presses his ass back harder, and that causes Steve to pop inside of him. The alpha grunts in surprise, but then he’s right back to thrusting, this time faster. Just as deep though, and god, if that isn’t exactly what James wants. “Oh, hugn—oh!” The noises he’s making are obscene but James hardly notices. They seem to drive Steve on, his hips slapping harder each time he moans particularly loud.
It goes on like this until James reaches for his own cock. He only gets a couple of strokes in before Steve is knocking his hand away. James cries out indignantly but then Steve pulls out, flips him over and pushes right back in. He wraps his hand around James’ cock, hips working at the same pace as his hand. He’s staring down at James with a burning intensity, breath heavy with his efforts. “Mine,” he growls, giving a calculated twist on the upstroke.
James’ eyes roll back in his head. “Ugh, fuuck.” It’s incredible and nothing he’s used to. No alpha has ever done this for him before, always leaving it to him to take care of. He can hardly thrust into the grip very well when he’s being fucked as hard as he is, but damn if he doesn’t try. “Please,” he groans, grappling at Steve’s shoulders for something to hold onto. He hardly knows what he’s asking for. The alpha is sweaty above him and James’ hands glide over the muscles in his back. “Please, Steve,”
Steve’s eyes shoot to his at the use of his name. Something raw and more intense than what they’re doing now passes through them, and before James knows what’s happening he’s being kissed. It’s not gentle. It’s plying, and insistent, and needy. God, is it needy. Steve is kissing him like it’s the answer to something and all James can do is go along for the ride.
“Bucky,” Steve is grunting at him when he finally parts enough to speak. James knows he’s speaking to him, so he opens his eyes to the nonsensical name. He doesn’t really care what this man calls him, so long as he never stops. “Buck I’m gonna,” Steve tells him, brow sweaty and pinched. “I have to.”
James groans, feeling how true the alpha’s words are. His knot is growing, tugging more insistently with every thrust. When it feels like Steve might pull away at the last second, James wraps his arms and legs around him in a fierce hold. “No,” he begs. “Inside me. I need it.” He’s not thinking even a little bit about the mission now, only the ache inside him. It’s an ache only a knot will fix, and he whimpers this to Steve as he holds him. “Knot me. Alpha, please. Want to feel it. Fill me up. Breed me.”
Steve makes a filthy sound and shoves forward, groaning long and low into James’ ear. His knot catches, fully blown as he climaxes. His hand has stopped moving over James’ cock but it hardly matters now. He’s rocking his hips shallowly, pulling his knot taut against James’ rim, pulsating it over his prostate again and again and again. James doesn’t need anything else to make him come spectacularly.
“Why do you torture yourself like this?”
Brock doesn’t turn around from the observation window. He figures Rollins is just here to taunt him anyway. “Nobody asked you to come in here,” he says quietly, attention still fixed on the pair in the next room.
“Yeah well…” Rollins comes up and stands right next to Brock, eyes taking in the same sight. “I was curious.” When Brock says nothing, he adds, “Looks like they’re finished.”
Brock scoffs and turns abruptly from the window, putting his back to it. “They’re not fucking finished.” Idiot, he wants to add. He scrubs his hands over his face and it occurs to him that he needs to shave. “That was just round one.” Brock doesn’t know about Rogers, but he is intimately familiar with his own omega’s stamina during a heat. “They’ll be in there for a good two days at least.”
“And you’re just going to stand here and watch?” Rollins rolls his eyes. “Stupid.”
“I can’t do anything else,” Brock snaps, irritated at his friend. “You’ve never been bonded. You wouldn’t understand.”
“No?”
“No.” He sighs. “You think what? It’s just jealousy?” He shakes his head. “I could handle that. But this… It’s like a physical ache.” He turns slightly to glance through the window again, thinks better of it, and turns back around. “Can’t stand it.”
“Can’t do anything to change it.” Rollins points out. “You never should’ve gotten so close. He’s just a thing, and at the end of the day he’s Hydra’s thing, not yours.”
“Yeah.” Brock really doesn’t have it in him to argue that point. He wants to, but he doesn’t. It isn’t like he doesn’t wish he could set the poor SOB free. But that’s never going to happen, and playing house with his bonded for the last six months has just been wishful thinking. “They still going at it?” he asks, unwilling to turn around and look again. He wasn’t exactly getting off on the sight before.
Rollins looks. “Naw. Resting.”
Brock grits his teeth, can’t keep the image of that goddamn super soldier, tied to his mate, out of his head.
“You think it’ll take?”
“Christ Rollins, you just don’t quit. Of course it will.” Pretty soon he’ll have to see the soldier, heavy with a litter of his pups. He hates it. Hates it more than anything.
Rollins shrugs and claps a hand onto Brock’s shoulder. “Don’t stay in here.” Another glance back. “He’s obviously not going to hurt ‘im. Leave them to it. Come and have a drink with me.”
Brock looks at Rollins then and really considers him. He calls him his friend, but the truth is the two of them are just the same as the Winter Soldier—property of Hydra. It’s taken years for him to realize it, but it’s true. Still, Rollins is offering him a drink now, and even more than that, a temporary escape. It’s the closest thing to friendly Brock’s ever gotten from the other man, and he figures it’s the best he’s going to get for a while. He might as well go. Because Rollins is right; he never should have gotten so close.
Brock sighs and nods at Rollins. Tells him, “Yeah. Yeah I think I will.”
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could you write a scenario about gojo fucking his sweet little virgin and innocent sister. When he looked so long her cunt, she blushed and said;
Nii-chan, p-please don't look at it
I love your writings <3
(CW: incest, innocent and virgin reader, my bad writing and not beta'd, satoruniichan being manipulative cuz yeah that's him. name-calling. oral (f receiving). corruption. degradation if you squint i guess? finger-sucking. cliff hanger cuz i'm evil)
THANK YOU PRETTY BABY YOU'RE THE BESTTT!!! i'm kissing you on the mouth mmmmmmwah c'mere. i suck at writing full pieces, haven't done it in literal AGES, but i did my best for you!! so sorry if it sucks!! my brain hurts i am not used to thinking for long periods of time. /j
satoru's eyes were impossible to escape from. he'd always make you feel naked under his gaze, like two stars sucking the light out of the night sky.
but now they gazed down at you with such hunger it was almost threatening.
“hmmm,” he hummed with a grin, long fingers tracing aimless patterns all over your wet cunny; “don' close y'r legs, pretty. don' ya wanna make your big bro happy?”
and that only made you whimper more. what was so entertaining about this? you struggled not to close your thighs around his pretty head of white hair. “niichan! don't look!”
your parents could be home any minute! what would they say if they saw you like that? knees to your chest on the living room couch, satoru inspecting you down there like he was eyeing a ring at a jewelry store!
he played with your puffy lips, rubbing them up an down. he pulled down the hood around your clit, he stretched your entrance to the sides with both thumbs; only to laugh at the sticky trails of pussy juice drooling down from it.
“why not?” satoru had to laugh at you. some nerve you had to complain, really, when your little pussy was drenched and pulsing, so far untouched. he spat on you, spreading it around your pink flesh with a thumb, and smirked when it got you all squirmy.
“c'mon, be good 'n stay still”. a firm, steadying hand pressed down on your tummy. “y're more than old 'nough to still be a virgin, y'know? i'd be embarrassed if i were you”.
was that true? was not having sex at your age that bad?
satoruniichan always had so many friends, did so much better in school than you, was always dating one girl or another... he'd know about that sort of thing, right?
after all, you were always picked on for being the prune little sister. your parents never approved of any boy you had a crush on, and being a good daughter you never went against their wishes.
satoru caught on your dilemma quick. he leaned in close, blowing his hot, tickly breath teasingly over your clit. “wan' big bro to change that?”
“change w-what? hm!” you moaned. this time you couldn't stop your thighs from closing when satoru's lips sucked on your clitty, slurping loudly until you cried out.
“pop y'r cherry, dummy,” your big bro chuckled. “that way, y' won' be so pathetic anymore”.
the name stung, “pathetic”. tho you could barely think about that with satoru loudly licking, slurping, kissing, burying his face into your pussy. nose into your clit, and purring. arms hugging your hips so you can't escape his hungry stimulation.
you couldn't even think, only moan and shiver. were big brothers even supposed to do this sort of thing to their little sisters? but then again, it felt so good!
satoru pulled back with your clitty slurped between your lips, giddy for the cute cries you let out. “'nd?” he said, voice much deeper and husky than before.
“c'monnn, say yes!” his cheeks puffed up and satoru pouted, like a spoiled child begging for candy. only that this “child” was rubbing your clit in tight frenzied circles with his thumb, not slowing down even as you trashed and squirmed and whimpered. satoru dove tongue first into your soppy hole, muffling his words in your sloshy muscles: “d'y' wanth t' be p'thethic 'll y'r lwife 'r noth?”
“n-niichan!” is all you could say, or cry. your muscles were stiffing up, specially down your belly. satoru seemed impatient, because his tongue swiftly exchanged placed with two long, too long fingers that crooked inside your virgin pussy. he felt around, until finding your gummy, sensitive little walls.
he thrusted and thrusted from his wrist at a sadistic pace, laughing at you and at your slutty teary face. you were going to be such a whore, he just knew. “wanna cum, huh? my pretty sluts wan's to cum?”
“y-yeees!”
your clit felt on fire under his slimy tongue. your walls were spasming, pussy crying as much as your eyes and it was like your body was made of jelly. you shivered and cried, and when your back arched, hips bucking against his hand, your eyes saw heaven and stars twinkled behind your eyelids and
satoru stopped.
“noooo! no! why'd you sto- mmph!” his slick fingers stopped your whining by thrusting down your throat. you almost gagged, throat and pussy convulsing in synch.
the albino sat back on his heels without pulling back from your mouth; one hand fumbling with his sweatpants until it came out springing. angry red, leaky, pulsing, and he rubbed the tip of his dick a couple times against your slit with a deep grunt.
“didn't give ya permission t' cum, did i? now open up f'my cock, slut”
#tw.incest#tw incest#dd:dne#big bro/little sis#big bro gojo#tw.dark content#dead dove do not eat#satoru gojo smut#satoru gojo x reader#gojo smut#satoru smut#gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x y/n#tw dark content#this was one of those stories that literally wrote itself#i just put my pussy on the keyboard and this came out sorry
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