#and i thought an across-the-chest holster would look cool

[lunaryhues]

Barbara :)

#rayman #rayman legends #barbara rayman #artists on tumblr #a modified design mostly based on that one time she randomly got a redesign in Rayman Mini #and i thought an across-the-chest holster would look cool #is holster the right word? #i imagine there's a thing on the back for her to slide her axe into #she's giving rayman a noogie if that wasn't obvious idk i tried

[late-to-the-party-81]

Power Play - Chapter 4

AN: Flashback time! Thank you all for the love on this series. And kisses to the folks behind @buckybarnesevents

I’ve chosen the prompt How did you meet… Undercover mission

Beta’d by @buckysbarne

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and banner by me

Master list | Hot Bucky Summer Master list | Chapter 3

Summary: Your thoughts return to the night of the Gala, when you met Bucky for the first time, before you knew how your life was about to change.

Relationship: Mob! Bucky x Undercover Agent! Reader

WC: 2.7k

CW: Soft!Dark! Bucky, Canon Typical Violence, Angst, Russian Pet names as mangled by Google translate, Walker being a creep, quite a bit of internal monologue, light alcohol consumption, physical altercations, drugging and kidnap.

You took a deep breath in, held it, and then let it out. 

You could do this.

Hopefully, if you told yourself that enough times, it would become true.

Because it had taken far too long for you to get here, just for it to all get thrown away by an attack of nerves.

You raised your eyes back to the mirror in front of you, turning this way and that to look over your outfit. Your hands nervously smoothed out non-existent wrinkles from the cool satin. This dress was obviously expensive - it had to be, to make you look the part - and that was enough to send your anxiety spiking again. What would happen if you ruined it? Would you be billed, or would the cost just get written off by the agency? You hoped it was the latter, as you couldn’t afford to be a whole paycheck down just to replace a dress.

Leaning over, you adjusted the straps on your shoes - they were probably just as expensive as the dress - then stood back up to pat over your hair and inspect your make-up. You barely recognised the woman looking back at you.

The door suddenly opening behind you had you whirling around, hand to your chest as you were caught off guard. Blue eyes, sparkling with amusement, looked back at you, and you couldn’t help but let your frustration show.

“What the hell, John. Ever heard of knocking? I might not have been ready yet.”

“You hadn’t locked the door, hot stuff. Seems to me that you liked the idea of getting caught changing.” 

He leaned his tall body back against the door, completely blocking your exit, and his eyes roamed over you, obvious in his lecherous appreciation.

“You should wear clothes like this more often. Makes your tits look awesome.”

“Pig!”

He took two steps across the small dressing room and tucked his finger, roughly tipping up your chin so you couldn’t look away from him. You suppressed a shudder.

“Careful, sweetheart. You don’t want to upset me. Now, as much as I’m enjoying the view and this scintillating conversation, it’s almost go-time. For your own sake, you’d best not fuck this up. If this op goes wrong, you’ll be lucky if you only get bumped down to the post room.”

You scowled up at him and then ducked out from under his arm.

“Thanks for the pep talk. Do you big up Hoskins like that when he goes on an op?”

“Of course not, baby. Lemarr knows what he’s doing.”

You turned your back, rolling your eyes, and picked up the small earwig from the tiny dresser top. Carefully, you placed it into your ear and then rearranged your hair to act as an extra shield against it being noticed. Looking across at the knife and thigh holster that were still waiting for you, you hesitated. Not because you were worried about carrying the weapon, but because John was still in the room, and you were certain he wasn’t planning on going anywhere, especially if you were going to have to expose a lot of skin to put the damn holster on. 

With a sigh, you angled yourself away from him as much as possible, sliding the black fabric up your leg as high as you could get it before pulling it tight and then sheathing the knife. As you raised your head, you caught sight of yourself in the mirror, and then, to your horror, also saw Walker’s reflected smirk.

Fuck.

He looked like the cat that had caught the cream, but there was nothing you could do about it now - it was time to head out for your first undercover mission. The one that would make or break your career.

You tried not to stare, reminding yourself that you’d been in places like this before. However, that snarky little part of you was happy to remind you that being in a ball room like this during the day, or as a member of staff was a vastly different experience to being in one as a guest, even if it was a front.

The whole place was overwhelming. The lights. The decorations. The music. The sheer number of people.

“Stop standing like a statue. Mingle. Find him. Do your job.”

Walker’s voice was harsh in your ear, but for once it gave you the push you needed. He was right - again, a rare thing in your opinion. You had a mission to do. You had to find your mark, the dangerous head of the Brooklyn mob, James ‘Bucky’ Barnes and you were to do your best to work your way into his inner circle. You’d done your research into his legitimate businesses and the shady ones he was almost certainly linked to. It was the latter where you came in - no-one had ever been able to make anything stick. 

The plan was to play the vapid, good-time party girl and flatter him. Lead him on and make him comfortable enough to talk about his business in front of you. Well, that was Walker’s plan, anyway. You weren’t sure if it would work, but you had your own ideas in reserve.

Shaken out of your stupor by John’s nagging, you made your way toward the bar. You skirted the dancefloor, watching out of the corner of your eye, and feeling a dart of jealousy as you watched women being whirled around the floor by competent men. You had no idea if you could actually dance, at least like that - you’d never had the opportunity.

Reaching the bar, which was just as impressive as the rest of the room, you ordered a lime and soda. You wanted to keep your wits about you, and you could easily pretend it had vodka or gin in it, if someone enquired. Drink in hand, you turned around, leaning against the bar and started your proper surveillance of the wide open space. It was a good place to watch and be watched, which unfortunately had its downsides. You were approached at least half a dozen times in the first thirty minutes, by mostly old men looking for either a good time for the night, or a new trophy girlfriend. Even if you had been here of your own volition, you’d have still been uninterested in the various offers.

When it finally happened, it was just like in the movies. Barnes appeared, and it was as though the throngs of people just split apart to let him through unimpeded. The light from the chandeliers in the ceiling seemed to highlight the tones of brown in his cropped hair, and his suit! Well, it was obviously well tailored, because he looked like he’d been poured into it.

He stopped at the bar a few feet along from you, a couple of other patrons in between.

Softly, softly, catchee monkey…

You didn’t move away from where you were, but turned your body slightly toward him. You sipped your drink, looking at him from over the rim of the glass. The photos you’d seen in the background file hadn’t done him justice. You’d thought him attractive enough, in that bad-boy style, when you’d looked through all the information, but here in the flesh? You had no idea how you’d even manage to talk to him if he were to turn his attention on you.

Get it together woman. He’s just a man. An extremely attractive one, but a man none-the-less.

Finishing your soda, you turned back to the bar, deciding that if you were going to have one alcoholic drink, now was the right time. You raised your hand to signal to the bartender, when there was movement in your peripheral vision, and a deep, melodious voice sounded in your ears.

“Whatever the lady wants, and a whiskey for me.”

Barnes proffered no card, that would be too gauche. No doubt the bill would be sent to his man of business tomorrow. You turned towards each other at the same time, but your words of introduction froze on your lips as you got swept up in his icy eyes.

“James Barnes, at your service. And you are?”

You realised he was holding out his hand to you and here you were, gaping like a fish. You giggled, trying to cover your faux pas, gave him your cover name and accepted his handshake.

Oh fuck!

The moment your skin met his it was as though a jolt of lightning shot through you.

You felt your eyes widen, and quickly turned your head, taking your hand back and paying attention to the bartender instead.

What the fuck was that?

It was like your whole body was alight, and one small, rational part of your brain was screaming ‘Abort! Abort!’ at you. But you couldn’t turn tail and run. You had too much to prove and everything to lose.

Having taken those few seconds to re-school your features you turned back to him, a smile plastered to your face.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Barnes. What brings you to this gathering, this evening.”

He smiled back, and you could have easily been fooled into thinking it was genuine.

“To see friends, old and new. To make connections and enjoy some stimulating conversation. And yourself?”

Inwardly you punched the air. You knew that playing the bimbo would be no good - Barnes was too intelligent a man to be happy with vacuous company. He would relish the push and pull of a real debate. It was a good thing you’d mentally prepared for this.

“The same really. I’m new to the city, and was lucky enough to get an invitation. I’m hoping to make some new friends, and if I’m lucky, some business connections. But there’s time for that. What business are you in?”

You could have sworn that you saw his eyes narrow for a second, but he was still smiling at you, sipping at his drink, before placing the glass back down on the bar. He plucked your vodka & tonic from your fingers and then took hold of your hand again.

“Dance with me.” Before you even had a chance to respond, he was pulling you out onto the dance floor. The small orchestra was playing something slow, which you were thankful for. That was until Barnes pulled you into his arms properly.

What you’d felt when he’d first shook your hand was nothing to the way your whole body was ablaze from being held so close by him. The way his left hand held yours so gently, and you couldn’t help but notice the tattoos that peeked out from under the cuff of his dress shirt. The way his right arm cradled you around your waist, holding your body flush against his. The way his face was now inches from yours and all you could do was shift your gaze back and forth between his pink lips and diamond blue eyes, while the scent of his cologne took over your olfactory senses.

You’d never thought yourself the type to have your head turned by pure masculinity, but currently, you were re-evaluating all of your previous life choices, whilst also willing your legs not to give out from underneath you. Although, if they did, you were also certain that Barnes would have no problems keeping you on your feet. And your previous thoughts about being whisked around the floor by a competent man? Well, now you knew how Cinderella had felt at the ball. You just had to remind yourself that you weren’t wearing glass slippers and the man holding you was definitely not a prince.

“You feel so good in my arms, milyy.”

“Umm, thank you. I haven’t really had that much opportunity to dance like this.”

He let out a deep chuckle, which reverberated through your body, settling in one spot, deep down in your abdomen.

“Well you dance wonderfully. I like the way you are letting me lead.” His head dipped even closer, his breath warm on your ear. “Good girl.”

You stumbled, tripping over your feet, but Barnes pulled you even closer, chuckling again as you tried to cover up what his words had done to you. He whirled you around again, and you couldn’t help your answering giggle. He smiled down at you, the skin around his eyes crinkling, and for a moment you really thought you were going to manage this. That you were going to worm your way into his good books and be able to pick up on some useful intel.

However, you weren’t paying attention, and when he swung you off the dancefloor, in the far corner, you were too confused to put up any resistance, and he effortlessly steered you into a side room.

“What on earth? Mr. Barnes!” Your outrage was real and tinged with fear.

With a push he had you up against the wall, arms over your head and wrists pinned by one of his large hands. You were about to call out your operations safe word, the word that would get the rest of your team running to your aid, when Barnes reached up, brushed your hair back from your face and plucked the earwig right from your ear and threw it across the room, directly into the wastebasket.

“There. That’s better. Don’t want anyone listening in, but nor do I want the device to go offline and alert your colleagues to your current… predicament.”

Fuck. 

You were made. You wondered what you’d done to give yourself away? Your lip trembled as you thought about how you were never going to live this down, but then your lizard brain kicked in, letting you know it was worse than that. It reminded you that you were currently alone, with a fearsome and dangerous mob boss, and you were an exposed undercover agent.

Keep your cool!

“And what predicament would that be?” You arched your brow, trying to give off an air of nonchalance. Unfortunately, Barnes just chuckled at you.

“So brave, lyubimyy, despite the danger. Impressive. You aren’t weeping or begging, which is what I’d usually expect in this scenario.”

“Yeah… I don’t normally go for those types of reactions.” As you finished your retort you jammed your heel down on the toe of his shoe. It took him off guard, loosening his grip on your wrists, and you managed to bring your hands down, and cupping them together, cuffing him up the side of the head.

You whirled around - there was no time for inspecting the damage you’d done - you needed to get back out into the main area and head for the exit. Unfortunately Barnes was fast and you’d barely taken a step when you were jerked to a halt, accompanied by a ripping sound. He’d grabbed hold of your dress and jerked on it again to pull you down to your knees next to him. He pinched your jaw in his hand and looked down into your eyes. You couldn’t tell whether he was frustrated or amused, but either way, it didn’t bode well for you.

“You are like a little bee, malen’kaya pchelka. Always busy. Always focused, but with a little sting to deploy when provoked. Unfortunately for you, I am a wolf. I am bigger, stronger and have a much worse bite.”

You weren’t going to go out like this. You let out a shout, hoping that maybe it would get picked up by the earwig, despite it being nestled amongst goodness knows what rubbish in the trash basket. At the same time you gave him a shove with all of your strength,  the sound of your dress being further destroyed ringing in your ears. 

It was pointless though. You hadn’t even got to your feet when you were barreled down to the floor, Barnes’ larger, heavier body pinning you there.

“I’d hoped this part of our conversation would go differently, but you seem determined to make it difficult, Pchelka. So, I apologise for stinging you, but it seems like it’s the only way."

A pinch on your neck and your vision began to swim. The weight of his body disappeared but you couldn’t seem to move.

“W-what?” Your eyelids were heavy, and it was taking all your willpower to keep them open. 

 You felt yourself moving through the air, and then becoming even dizzier as you went upside down, presumably over Barnes’ shoulder from the way fabric rubbed over your face, your arms and legs dangling loosely.

“Don’t fight it, lyubimaya.”

“L-let me…” Your slurred words were cut off as the whole world went black…

Chapter 5

Tag list: @jobean12-blog @sidepartskinnyjeans @flordeamatista @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @seitmai @talia-rumlow @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @writing-for-marvel @kmc1989 @casa-boiardi

#hotbuckysummer2023 #hot bucky summer #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky x reader #mob!bucky #late writes

[awhphooey]

PLEASE talk to me about your tmnt designs they are so good and friend shaped

OK!!! >:D gonna just copy paste them directly from discord so excuse the “like previously stated” stuff lmao

Raph:

Ok so!! This one might be short bc I do really enjoy his canon design. I made his spikes a bit more rounded than they are in canon because alligator snapping turtles are sharp but not that sharp (I’m aware the show’s style is just generally sharp as well). I also think it suits his personality more, with the spikes being a bit rounded out. He’s big and tough, yes, and he can definitely beat the shit out of people, but with his brothers he’s just a big teddy bear! Clothes wise I was initially going to give him a ripped jersey but decided against it because I wanted to show off the cracks and marks on his shell. He’s a big guy which means he most likely just throws himself (literally) into fights, which would definitely end up with him getting some marks in his shell. I left the x bandages on his chest and added some others on his side, as well as a sticker from Mikey over one of the smaller scratches. I ended up ripping the ends of his bandana as well, more than I think it is in the show, if it is at all. I let him keep the wraps on his feet and hands, and added some sweat bands on his wrists (despite the fact they wouldn’t work that way) to replace the sporty vibe the jersey would’ve given. I also gave him shorts for the same reason. It just gives him a boxer vibe imo. Giving him a tail is the only thing I will never regret because 1. TAIL. 2. long tails are like??? A defining trait of snapping turtles bro. I already explained that his markings aren’t natural, and that they’re sprayed on by Mikey. He probably has to get them redone every once in a while, which means the shape of them might change a bit every time. (The small splatters definitely do) that’s sort of all I can think about to say for Raph? He’s my sweet cheese? My good time boy?

Leo:

Woo! Guy I stole my name from let’s go- his design didn’t change much either, if I’m being honest. Probably changed less than Raph’s. I liked the crescent markings on his eyes instead of the classic slider stripes, I just think they fit his vibe more so I let those be. The crescents on his arms, however, had to go. I know they were probably chosen to be easier for the animators, but I’m not an animator and my boy isn’t a damn tiger!! So racing stripes it is! I left the color alone tho bc I liked the contrast. His gloves also got left alone because I enjoy how dramatically they flare out. He got a scarf because I thought it looked cool but also !! It is kind of reminiscent of the weird shock collar thingy he got in Donnie’s Gifts. Obviously this scarf won’t keep his quips at bay, but at least he’ll be warm while he messes around. He also gets to keep his over the shoulder thing instead of being downgraded to a belt like Mikey, just because his sword is too damn long to fit in a side holster thingy (idk if holster is the right term for the sword one or if it’s exclusively for firearms). I was high key debating giving him a Fanny pack bc I thought it would’ve been funny, but braces *and* a Fanny pack would’ve made me feel like I was trying to make fun of him for some reason so he just gets a slightly bigger side bag. Satchel? Idk. I gave him a few marks as well because out of all four of them, I feel like he gets knocked around the most- mostly because he’s the one running in without a plan. He’s got one on his leg, two (from the same injury) on his left arm, and one across the bridge of where his nose would be. I wasn’t sure if I was going to add the nose one, because I was having trouble thinking of how he would get a cut so deep on his nose to scar but not to affect his eyes, but then I remembered I don’t care for logic when it comes to character design. He’s also got a bit of a torn up shell from roughhousing with Raph and pulling stupid stunts.

Donnie:

Burger boy!! Ok so I am a firm believer in Donnie should get clothing/tech that will actually help him and doesn’t just look cool. Hence the welding gloves and goggles! I also think he would use the bandana around his neck as a mask to cover the bottom half of his face! When he’s not wearing his mask, as you can see, he just keeps the goggles around his neck. I think that the turtles wouldn’t always be wearing their masks, but Donnie always wants his goggles with him, so he just lets em hang there. The tech pad on his arm controls his shells and Shelldon, as well as just being used like any tablet can be used. He usually does things himself, but he has the doc Ock robot arms to help him with smaller tasks like carrying things or holding stuff for him while he works. Also to hold his phone because,,, Gen Z man… anyways actual design wise, I just kept with the patterns he has in the show. I gave him 2012 Donnie’s tooth gap because I enjoy it immensely, and I gave him slightly webbed feet for swimming. He would be the best swimmer out of all of his brothers because of it. Also yeah, he’s got normal people eyebrows now, but the ones you see over his mask are 100% drawn on. Speaking of his mask!!!! I gave him a little Deadpool type bump at the back of it because I wanted to and also because I have never once in my life been able to tie a bandana around my head like that without having a bump. Is this the shortest one? Probably, I literally can’t tell rn 💀 Sorry Donnie I said Leo changed the least but maybe it was you. Or I’m just bad at analyzing my design for him

Mikey:

Ok Mikey now bc he’s last (rip)!! He definitely got the most little details added in, because he was the first one I drew. Also because his initial design already has so much character compared to the others. First off, pattern: FRECKLESSSSS I enjoy him having tiny speckles instead of just big blotches. I just think it gives him more of an asymmetrical look. Same with the stickers on his shell!! I purposely gave him no two shapes the same so it would be a bit more mismatchy. The skull- like previously stated- is a reference to his toddler design, which had a skull on an orange sleeveless hoodie. WHY DOES HE HAVE KNEE PADS AND NO ELBOW PADS. WHAT IS THE POINT OF THEM. So anyways he has elbow pads now. You can’t see them but he has more faces drawn on them. I gave him one sweatband on one wrist and the beaded bracelets on the other, again, for asymmetry. One of the only symmetrical things is probably his spats/socks/shoe thingies. His backpack straps aren’t even even. Speaking of his backpack, he has some pins and patches on there that are 90% gifts from his brothers and 10% ones he found on the ground. His skateboard on the bottom is a drawing he did by himself, and was one of the first pieces he ever did without copying something. Not super intentional, but his shell design sort of looks like a firework going off, which I think matches his personality a whole lot. The tooth he has missing is a permanent tooth and he honestly doesn’t care that it’s missing he thinks he looks cool.

1,300+ words later, you deserve a Turtle Tot design so here you go!!

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt au #rottmnt

[zipegs]

will & beverly // 774 words, g, western au // ao3 written for day 1 of fad's au challenge: cowboy

The midday sun was so strong that Will could hear it. Sweat dripped insistently down his back and chest, and his and Beverly's horses kicked up a dry cloud of grit with every step. The dust misted his face like sea spray, sticking to his perspiration and coating him in a layer of dirt.

Normally, Will would relish every aspect of the ride—the gentle rocking of his hips, Winston's strength beneath him, the heat pressed in on him from all sides.

Riding out across the flat fields, far out of reach of the civilized world... It was really the only time he felt safe.

Now, though, it was hard to concentrate on his surroundings. He kept losing himself in his mind, slipping back into the roaring river of his thoughts. Hannibal staring at him through the cell bars. Alana stained red and cradling Abigail's broken-puppet body. The sharp heat of Hannibal's knife in his belly.

A fat droplet of sweat slid into Will's stinging eye. He came back to himself and blinked past the sudden flare of pain. When he glanced to his side, he found that Beverly was already watching him, her face lined hard with somber concern. Will forced an unsteady smile, and she looked away. "There's a stream up ahead," she said, gesturing with her chin. "Think we should stop for a while."

Will knew her better than to argue. Beverly had always been the stubborn sort, whip-smart and headstrong, and she wasn't one for compromise.

They rode on in silence as the terrain blossomed with dry grasses & clusters of brittle shrubs—life, but a hardened, serrated form of it.

Will could relate.

The stream, when they reached it, was low for this time of year, not much more than a trickle over slick, jagged rocks. He led Winston to drink and Beverly did the same, standing at the water's edge with her hands planted on her hips. Will lowered himself to kneel and dipped his grimy hands beneath the surface, collecting cold water in his palms. It stung pleasantly when he splashed it over his face, and he scooped a handful onto the back of his neck before running his hands through his sweat-damp hair.

"How's your stomach?" Beverly asked. Her gaze darted to Will as she rinsed her bandana in the stream.

He frowned, bringing a protective hand to his lower belly. Beverly raised her brows as she wiped herself down with the cool cloth, and Will cleared his throat. "It's fine."

"Bullshit." Beverly rinsed the bandana again and hung it around her neck,  leaning back on the sun-warmed grass. "We should've waited another week."

Will exhaled a frustrated sigh. "I'm tired of waiting, Bev."

"I know."

He stared out over the stream, feeling her gaze on him. It was at least another day until they reached the village where Hannibal had been sighted. Between the time it took for the news to reach Will in the first place and the time it took for him and Beverly to travel there, there was no way of knowing if they'd find him. If they didn't—if Hannibal had moved on... Will didn't know what he'd do.

He reached into his pocket and ran his thumb over the engraved surface of Hannibal's pocket watch, the metal body-warm. A pang of longing seized him, followed by the brutal ache of betrayal. Will closed his fist around the watch and squeezed until the metal bit into his palm.

"Will."

Will closed his eyes. He released the pocket watch and set his palms on the ground, focusing on the sharp, stubbly blades of grass beneath his skin. He could hear Beverly shifting beside him. "When we get there," Beverly said slowly, picking her words with care, "when we find him—"

"If we find him," Will jumped in.

"If we find him." She paused.

Will didn't open his eyes. In his mind, he could see Hannibal leaning over him, his eyes shining with tears as he carved apart Will's life.

Beverly spoke again, just as slow and quiet as before. "What are you going to do?"

Will's pistol was heavy in his holster. His throat ached, and he could feel the soft press of Hannibal's lips against his.

The truth of it was this: Will didn't know what he was going to do. He didn't think he would know, not until Hannibal was standing there in front of him, real and solid.

The possibilities spun out before him, as open and endless as the lands that separated them.

"Will?"

Will opened his eyes and said nothing—just stared out across the sunlit stream.

#hannibal #will graham #beverly katz #will graham & beverly katz #besties in every universe #anyway yeah i just think it's so sexy to picture them #out on horseback together #seeking a little vengeance lolllll #anyway #fadserver #mine #mine: writing #hannibal fanfiction

[mommastanberry-blog]

I have been posting snippets from my fic on here for a while. I'm now to a chapter that contains serious subjects, including assault, so if that triggers you, please be mindful of reading this particular snippet.

“I figured you wouldn’t come back tonight.” She tried to keep her tone level, hoping to keep them calm.

“Well it’s a good thing I did, isn’t it?” He spat, “What do you think you’re doing dancing with Malfoy?”

She rolled her eyes, he had no right to question or be jealous of anything she did. He had been given multiple opportunities to do something about the kiss that had happened between them the night of the battle, but he never did.

“Its honestly none of your business Ronald.”

“IT ABSOLUTELY IS MY BUSINESS!” They had now garnered the attention of the entire room.

She felt a pulse of rage in her chest, and turned to look behind her. Malfoy’s eyes were blazing, and Theo was doing his best to hold him back. Could she feel his emotions? Hermione took a deep breath and tried to calm her thoughts, she hoped that the feeling would be felt by him the way she felt his rage.

“It isn’t. You didn’t ask me to go with you. You didn’t ask me anything. You kissed me in the Chamber of Secrets the night of the battle and then nothing ever came of it!”

“YES IT DID! DON’T STAND THERE AND TELL ME IT DIDN’T!”

Hermione franticly looked around at all the eyes watching her.

“Keep your voice down.” She whispered.

“Why don’t we go talk outside?” he said with a sudden coolness that sent a chill down her spine.

“Fine, just please stop yelling, everyone is watching.”

She followed him out the door, but was struck with a crushing squeeze in her chest. Fear coursed through her body. Malfoy was losing his mind, she figured.

I’ll be okay

She repeated the sentiment over and over in her head, hoping he would hear it. The doors closed behind her, and Ron suddenly grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her down the halls.

“Let go of me!” Hermione said, wrenching her hand out of his grip. “I agreed to talk to you alone, you do not get to grab me!”

He paused for a moment and then snatched her upper arm while throwing a silencing charm at her. Hermione reached for her wand, but he wrenched her arm up until it felt like it would snap out of place. She kept screaming, but it went unheard, clawing at his arm with her other hand.

Through hall after hall he dragged her, further away from any prying eyes. She eyed the Marauders Map, trying to figure out where they were going. He turned a final corner slamming her up against the wall, pinning her arms above her head. He pressed himself up against her, reaching down and running his hand up her leg, lifting her dress in the process. She struggled beneath him, trying to pull her arms free. His hand found the leg holster that housed her wand and pulled it free, tossing it down the hall.

“You think you can just throw yourself all over that death eater? HUH? You think you can turn your back on us? ON ME?”

He had ahold of bother of her hands with his left while his right explored across her body. He grabbed his wand and placed a sticking charm to her hands so he could let them go.

“YOU WANNA BE A PATHETIC DEATH EATER WHORE? I WON’T ALLOW IT! YOU’RE MINE!” He paced for a moment tugging at his hair, before rounding on her again.

He reached up and grasped the front of her dress and yanked, ripping it with ease. It fell to the ground, and she struggled against the sticking charms trying to cover herself. He pressed himself against her again, running his hand down her stomach, the other gripping her neck. His hand slipped beneath her knickers, and into her folds.

“YOU’RE MINE! I EARNED IT! ALL THE WORK I DID TO PROVE MYSELF AFTER I LEFT YOU AND HARRY IN THE FOREST! AND YOU THROW IT ALL AWAY FOR HIM? MALFOY?”

His fingers slipped inside her and tears fell down her cheek. She fought against him pleading with her body not to respond to his touch.

“You see, your body wants me.”

He pumped his fingers in and out of her a moment longer. When he pulled his hand free, he stepped back and undid his trousers. He used her fluid on his hands to lubricate his cock, and positioned himself back between her legs.

“No one will love you the way I do ‘Mione. I know you just wanted my attention. Well I’m here now. I’m going to make it all better.”

He forced his lips against hers as he reached down and tore her knickers off. When she felt him at her center, she bucked to get away, causing Ron to slip. The break in concentration ended the sticking charm and her hands were suddenly free. She cried out, and this time, her voice bellowed through the halls.

“HELP! SOMEONE! MALFOY!” It was instinct to call for him, like the tether was forcing her words, pleading with him to find her.

Ron regained his footing, and attempted to grab her again but she kicked her leg out and made direct contact with he crotch. When he crumpled to the ground she turned to run, but he reached out and caught her foot. Her head hit the ground with a resounding crack and stars erupted in her vision. The world was spinning, but she knew she had to get up. She pulled up to her knees and attempted to stand, but Ron grabbed hold of her and flipped her over. She brought her knee up to hit him again, but he pushed it back down.

She looked up at Ron and saw nothing of the friend she once knew in his eyes. His pupils were blown so wide, all traces of blue gone. He looked like an animal, feral and vicious. She cried out again.

“HELP! PLEASE! HE—”

A fist collided with her cheek stopping her cry. The force of it knocked her head back again the stone floor. She reached up to cover her face but felt another blow hit her brow. Fear like none before flooded her veins. He was going to kill her. Another blow… her ears were ringing. Another blow… she couldn’t see. Blackness enveloped her as she fell into the void of unconsciousness.

#draco malfoy #draco x hermione #dramione #harry potter #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #hp fanfcition #spotify

[redflagromance]

Superdim Sunday: Chapter 7

"I shouldn't kill you," Gene said thoughtfully. "Hammer doesn't like it much."

Ji-Min relaxed. And then he withdrew his gun and she was a lot less relaxed. "That would kill me!" She threw her hands up. "Don't shoot."

"Naw," he said. He pointed it at her and pulled the hammer back. "Bang bang." She saw his finger pull back.

She dodged in a roll. She heard something hit the wall behind her.

"You're fast," Gene said. It wasn't a compliment. He fired again.

Ji-Min shrieked and leapt halfway across the room. She sprinted to the entry and bounced off a fast-moving wraith.

"Grab er!"

She dropped into a roll, hoping to move past the wraith below grabbing range. It was time to go, Hammer could just win this time.

It was too late for bargaining. Bony fingers dug into her shoulder and halted her motion. She tried to twist away. The world spun around her and her head hit the ground with a crack.

For a moment, she was dazed. Metal screeched and she was heaved upwards, against the wall. She didn't know what was happening but then there was a weight on her chest. That seemed…bad.

Then she heard the slow sound of footsteps toward her.

He was going to shoot her at close range.

Ji-Min struggled, trying to jerk away. The skeletal hands holding her had no give. She realized that the metal had been twisted off the wall to pin her.

“Thanks, friend,” said the cowboy. He sounded touched. “I treasure your reliability and consideration.” He pulled the gun out of his belt and pointed it at her head. “Goodbye, law woman. Awful sorry about this, but we are diametrically opposed forces.”

Fuck, what a stupid way to go.

“No!” Hammer bellowed.

Ji-Min blinked up at him. She hadn't heard him come back in the room.

Gene stopped, finger still on the hammer of his gun. “No?” He repeated. His voice was only curious. He cocked his head to the side. “Why no?”

Hammer staggered to his feet, using the wall as a brace. He pointed one huge hand at her. “That’s my rival.” He sounded scandalized. “Look- each supervillain needs a superhero. For balance. One day, one of us will kill the other.” He paused. “Or we could fall in love,” Hammer amended offhand.

Ji-Min shuddered.

“There’s only two ways for this to go,” Hammer explained passionately.

‘That’s three,’ Ji-Min thought. ‘I kill him, he kills me, romance. Three possibilities, according to his logic.’ She kept the correction inside. She wanted to live.

“Wow,” marveled Gene. He nodded slowly and holstered his weapon. “That makes a lot of sense. She’s your dramatic opposite.”

“The Ying to my yam,” Hammer said wisely. “We need each other. Our identities define the other.” He shook his head once and pulled his fingers through his hair to arrange it.

She wanted to die of mortification, just a little bit, but she wanted to live more. So she nodded along, in case her opinion had any weight.

“She agrees with me!” Hammer pointed victoriously. “Does this mean you’ll accept my help with your branding?” He made a gesture that meant nothing to Ji-Min. “The all-black thing is kinda cool, in a mean ninja way, but you could really use a public relations strategy.”

A wave of ice cold hate washed over her. She gritted her jaw shut so that she didn’t say anything.

“I bet there’s some really cool shit on the security footage.” Hammer put a hand on his hip. “I’m going to release the video of you throwing that big moon at me, that’s so awesome. That makes both of us look good.” He dug in his pocket and pulled out… a second phone. “Scoot over, would you buddy?”

Ji-Min didn’t track what was going on. She belatedly realized that she'd hit her head, like, really hard. Gene accommodated Hammer easily, moving a few steps to the left, away from her.

The phone clicked.

He…

“You took a selfie with me,” Ji-Min said. Her voice sounded haunted. It seemed to belong to someone else. Maybe this wasn't even happening to her. Maybe it wasn't her body lying on the floor. Had she double-checked?

Hammer turned around and grinned at her. “Well, yeah,” he said. “You’re going on my feed. Wanna check the photo before I post? We can retake it.”

Noooo. This couldn't be happening. Nooooo.

Ji-Min screamed again, a sad little shriek of frustration.

“Damn,” Hammer said approvingly. “That’s cool too.” He angled the phone so that she could see it. It…

It did look pretty cool. You could see the destruction behind her, and the twisted metal pinning her to the wall made it obvious that she wasn’t a total loser who had gone down easily. She wasn’t unconscious or anything, so it wasn’t that embarrassing.

‘I hate that he’s right. This will make both of us look impressive.’

He didn’t even earn it, though. Ji-Min gritted her teeth. She’d been kicking his ass until Gene and his boys showed up.

She might have lost some time. She vaguely remembered hearing Gene's voice. The next thing she registered was Hammer kneeling by her to show his phone.

She was aware he was talking. She vaguely registered his screen showed her and a caption that included "@ the Planetarium with my heroic rival Moonstrike 🌙 💥 (better luck next time 😜 🔥 🔨 to 💪!!!)"

Hammer said something that sounded like a question. She said yes, to make him go away. Her head was spinning and pounding.

They were gone, she realized.

That got her up. Ji-Min sat up-

And punished the breath out of her own ribs by using them to bend away the iron that Gene had apparently twisted in front of her. She gasped, hand to her chest, and then slid out from underneath.

She might have lost some time feeling sorry for herself. She'd lost. She'd lost to two hot dimwits.

Ji-Min sniffled, and tried to wipe away a tear. Her hand met her mask. Oh, good. That was still on. "You're not my yam!" She shouted to the empty building. "You're not my yam!"

A car door slammed.

She blinked. She got up, using the wall for balance. She tried to find a window. It took a while. When she did, that car was gone. She did see headlights, four sets of headlights. Heading for her.

"Oh, shit," she said. Her voice echoed. She stumbled towards the door, blood pounding in every vessel in her head. Someone was coming. She had to go. She was at the scene of a crime and she had to go.

"Moonstrike. I'm glad to see you up on your own."

Ji-Min would have jumped out of her own skin if she didn't feel so nauseous.

She stared. There were four people in suits coming up the stairs from the lower level.

“It’s good to see you in person. We weren’t expecting you,” the top agent said with a friendly nod at her. “We just follow Hammer around when he’s out of prison, since he’s sociable and easily found.” He surveyed the wrecked planetarium. “It’s generally a good bet that he’ll lead us to other criminals.”

Shit. They were investigating super crime. They were from the Bureau of Heroics. Feds? They seemed like Feds, not local.

Ji-Min felt her stomach twist into a knot. She didn’t say anything.

"Give us a minute, would you?" The man who seemed to be in charge waived off his subordinates and focused on her.

Ji-Min watched warily. He didn't get very close when he addressed her directly. He used the same calm tone you'd use on a wild animal. That was probably a good idea, given that all she wanted right now was her hitting stick.

"Moonstrike, is it?" The agent eyed the devastation. "I gather that you didn't expect ten opponents, but this was impressive nonetheless." He took a couple of meandering steps closer. He had a voice fit for movies, smooth and smoky. It was almost enough to make her relax. "I heard you did some good work earlier today in town." Something smug curled into the smile on his mouth.

“....Thank you,” Ji-Min said stiffly. She tried to look like she was not a criminal. Her heart was pounding. This was too many people to fight her way through. She was a sneaky type. This was bad, very bad. Any moment now, they were going to realize that she wasn’t any registered hero, that she must have been at the scene of a crime for a different reason-

The Federal agent nodded. “My superiors want you to consider getting into contact.” He produced a card.

She looked at it. After a moment, she reached out and took it. At a glance, it was his business card. She eyed him suspiciously. “Alejandro,” Ji-Min said, eyes darting between him and the card.

This was… good?

“To my friends, yes,” Alejandro the suit agreed blandly. “We understand that you seem to like your privacy. We can work with that. We want you to know that we can provide resources for your fight against crime.”

Ji-Min swallowed down a hysterical laugh. Yes. Her fight against crime. That was definitely what she was doing. “Resources?” She kept her tone neutral.

Alejandro nodded. “Federal heroes receive a competitive salary as well as a discretionary budget for crime-fighting paraphernalia.”

She realized, with a heady feeling, that she had accidentally conned her way into getting paid. Ji-Min stood stock still. The literal first thing that she’d done after getting superpowers was look up how to do crime for profit without getting caught. And the government wanted to get her on retainer.

‘This could be very useful,’ Ji-Min realized. “Thank you,” she said again. She cleared her throat. “I’ll be in touch.”

‘If I have a heroic persona, I can avoid getting in trouble. If I get caught or unmasked, I can say I’m a hero. No one is going to connect a federal retainer with larceny.’

Plus, holy shit. They’d pay her to upgrade her equipment. She liked the hitting stick, but the government could probably get her something better.

The ghost of a smile flickered over Alejandro’s face for the first time. “I look forward to your call. Now.” He indicated the room. “We can take care of this situation. You can leave, if you like.”

She took her leave, still in disbelief at how lucky she had been.

Ji-Min wasn't honestly sure how she got back to her car. She had the impression of walking a very long time. That might have meant that she got lost. It might have just meant that everything seemed very difficult with a concussion.

Her phone was in the car. Of course it was. Phones track you.

She sat in the driver's seat and picked it up. There was a notification from an account that she followed. She opened it to see Hammer's selfie with her. The next video had been ripped from the museum's security camera.

Extremely late, she realized that he'd had someone watching it live. That was how he'd snuck up on her.

Ji-Min looped a video a few times, watching herself wrench a concrete ball the size of a puffy reclining chair off of its frame and lob it at Hammer's back.

It looked pretty fucking sick, honestly. She took a screen recording.

After a while she realized that she had a voicemail from an unknown number. Her first thought was the paranoid jump that the FBH had already tracked down her information. She checked it.

"Sorry about how late this is," Gene drawled.

She shrieked and dropped the phone. The recording kept playing through her car's speakers.

"Calling in regards to your offer to help with my car. I'll send the - the gee pee ess point tomorrow. Thank you."

She listened to it again. Yeah. Ji-Min put a hand on her head. In the background she heard her own faint voice, shouting "my yam! You're not my yam!"

She deleted it.

#Superdim #Superdim Sunday #deplorably devoted to you #deplorably devoted #redflagromance #short story

[unknownjpegs]

camping

Lark catches him with one leg out the window. He’s fully kitted; holstered, prepped, armored, ready. A dark pack slung over his shoulder. 

In the low light, Xavier pretends the look on his face isn’t fully, completely wounded.

“Are you leaving?” He asks.

Nothing about Lark is timid. He’s cool. Even-tempered, mostly, where Xavier knows he runs way too hot. They temper each other. Bring the baselines up, down. Around him is the most normal Xavier thinks he’s felt since getting here, being this person. And so the quiet tone of his best friend’s voice cleaves him in fucking two. 

One for you, he thinks, and one for you to send back to my mom. You’d do that for me, wouldn’t you? Make sure I get there? Make sure I get home?

Instead of answering, Xavier pulls the balaclava further down his face. For one single second, one skip of his heartbeat, Lark’s expression is obscured. When it comes into view again, the furrow of his brow and sorrowfully twisted mouth have vanished. He’s Lark again; not a scared boy facing what might be loneliness for the first time in a long time. He’s Lark. Cool, even-tempered. Has found, without Xavier’s help, his baseline. 

“Just for tonight,” he says. Even to his own ears, he sounds off. Falsely chipper. “No worries, man. I’ll be back by morning.”

“You’re not being careful anymore.” His friend crosses his arms over his chest. “You weren’t in the first place, but you’re really not now. Sneaking out is insane, Xavier.”

He’s glad for the balaclava. It obscures him, too. Hides the guilty set to his jaw. 

“I’m not going to get you in trouble, okay? I’m not asking you to look-out or anything. You don’t have to—”

“Dude. It’s not me I’m worried about, you fucking asshole.” Lark seethes.

He takes another step into the room. Xavier has the insane thought, the out-of-body swoop of nostalgia, that if he were a different person, Lark would trip over a pile of clothes. A pair of boots, a backpack, a discarded pizza box.  But Xavier’s quarters are stark and empty. 

Xavier tilts his body back into the room, cool night air whipping against just one side of his face now. 

“Matilda doesn’t know.” He reasons, one palm cutting through the air as he speaks. It comes up to tap the collared mic at his throat. He’d fucked with the electronics within. With a solder borrowed via favor from one of the repair techs, he’d fried the conductor on the chip that handled GPS; couldn’t be tracked. With a scalpel he’d slipped into his back pocket on a trip to medical with a broken nose, he’d dug into the tiny microphone; couldn’t be heard. Xavier wasn’t messy. He wasn’t without thought or care or concern. And he certainly wasn’t fucking stupid. He was prepared. 

He might feel pitted, gutted, carved out by the Shadows, but he wasn’t above doing a little gutting for himself. 

 “She doesn’t. Promise. I wouldn’t do that without telling you.”

“I’m not worried about her, either.” Lark scoffs. Xavier notes honest and deceptiveness in it, somehow. He figures Lark trusts her to handle herself. Figures maybe he would like to do it for her, so she didn’t need to. 

“Well then, what in the fuckin’ —”

“You,” Lark hisses, his voice nearly rising above their frantic hissing whispers. “You, Xavier! I’m worried about you.”

They blink at each other. The sliver of moon in the sky outside the window barely cuts into the room. It illuminates a diagonal strip across Lark’s face. And despite his bravado, his confidence, Xavier finds himself memorizing that visage. He wishes Lark would, too. Wonders if he has already. 

“I’ll be back in the morning.” 

“This is stupid, Xavier.”

Xavier’s head, beginning to poke out the window, wrenches back on his neck. He stares at Lark. Lark stares at him. Sick panic slips between each of his ribs like a heavy, acidic ooze. He imagines it eating at the bone, the cartilage. Imagines it dripping off the remains, settling in his stomach, eating him up from the inside out.

This whole time, Lark? You too?

Lark takes a step towards him. “I meant—”

Xavier turns and launches himself from the window. It’s not a far drop, but he lands on the ground with a heavy thud. His arms pinch in towards his sides as he stomps across the base, avoiding cameras and eyes and lights as he seeks the hole in the barbed wire fence and slips through it. One of the sharp coils of metal catches his pants at the thigh. The fabric rips, his skin rips; the tears soaking under the sockets of his balaclava aren’t from the pain.

*

Benji doesn’t like it out here. The wilderness. The fact he’s so far from base, from home, makes the darkness of the forest that much more oppressive. It’s another country. Another continent. And he feels the night seep into him like every winding kilometer between him and his bed — even if it’s currently without a frame, even if the floor it rests on needs refinished, has been eaten through with a burgeoning colony of termites. 

As he sits at the campfire, his back to the tent that provides meager shelter and even less comfort, Benji imagines going back to that property and finding nothing. Nothing but the brick at its base, the fancy gifted pots and pans from Saha sitting on a stone floor because bugs have eaten the rest of everything. 

Nothing, he thinks, would be leagues better than this.

He’s well and truly alone, which is probably making the paranoia worse. Probably making the crunch of twigs and dry leaves louder. The call of an owl becomes the cry of a monster. Not for the first time since he joined up, not even the first time this deployment, Benji is reduced. Made less. Smaller. He feels young and scared. Feels how he had at thirteen, brought along up north for a hike in a nature reserve. He’d gotten lost, then. Found his way back to the group with shaking knees that he still wouldn’t admit to.

 The big sprawl of greenery hadn’t been like Crosby, with its view of the shipyard and distant skyline, evidence of humanity in the occasionally litter-strewn scraggly grass. No humanity out here, besides him. No evidence of it except the trail of smoke into the sky. 

As if on cue, the wind picks at it. Brushes across, some divine hand guiding water-laden bristles through the grey. Making it fade, disappear. Once the fire’s out, where will the evidence be? Where will Benji?

“Hopefully not fuckin’ here,” he mumbles aloud, mostly because it’s nice to hear a voice.

“I like it.”

Benji’s shoulders tense. He nearly nearly goes for his weapon. He should. It’s sitting right beside him, one gloved hand resting on the stock. He should lift it, turn on a knee as he’d been trained, aim and let his training (the muscle memory) solve the issue of an intruder for him.

Except he doesn’t. The owl calls again, the leaves crunch, but he feels only that initial zap of panic. A cold flare up his spine, tingling his scalp; only that tiny, tiny moment.

Because he recognizes that voice.

“Fucker.” Benji accuses. He twists on his ass, peering over his shoulder into the close-knit interlocking of trees. At the shadowed edge of his terror, in the darkness he tries not to think about, stands a figure. Materializing it — well. Like a shadow. How funny.

 And isn’t it strange, isn’t it awful, that such an imposing cut of a man strikes not a single fucking chord of fear in him? Rather, the lingering dread of the forest washes away. The smoke rises in a straight plume once more, and it just slightly obscures Xavier’s face as he rounds the fire and sits opposite.

“Coulda killed you.” Benji continues. The other man busies himself peeling off his gloves, his helmet, the dark hood covering his face. 

“Nah.” Xavier sticks his tongue out and touches two pale fingers to it, makes such a cutely contrite face as he plucks lint off that Benji finds himself grinning. He watches the American throw the balaclava to the side, and it skitters across the dirt to disappear at the edge of their orange-glow sanctuary.

“Ugh. I hate this shit. So cheap. Falls apart on the second wash.”

“Lyin’ liar.” Benji deadpans. “Smell you lot constantly. No washin’ happening over there, I’ll tell y’that much.”

“Fuck you.” Xavier chirps. He scrubs a hand through his already messy hair, makes it even more tantalizing. “I’m sure you’re not getting regular showers out here either. Playing Boy Scout.”

Benji pretends that the hint of fond amusement is triple its strength, because it warms him more than the fire. Xavier’s long legs bend. He rests his chin on his knees, tilts his head slightly as he regards Benji. The consistency of that stare makes heat rise to his cheeks. 

Benji raises two fingers in the air. “On my honor, or whatever.”

“It’s three.” Xavier points out, raising a massive hand to demonstrate. “Pretty sure two is for the girls.”

He corrects it with a nod, a suggestive whistle. “Ooh. Thanks, mate. Wouldn’t know know about that, personally.”

Xavier blinks at him. A gorgeous wash of color, not from the cold of the air surrounding them or the crackling fire, touches over his cheeks. He barks out a fantastic laugh that beckons Benji to join in with a huff of his own.

“Alright. That one was pretty good.”

“I know.” Benji’s cheeks already hurt from smiling. “Thanks.”

The conversation lapses once they’ve done their strange ritualistic check in. They ask things. Rarely do they ask the questions that beg to be put forth, and this time is no different. Benji asks about a tattoo on his wrist when he wants to ask: are you eating all right, are your friends all still alive, have you got any new traumas? 

Xavier asks if he’s keeping up with his hair, because it looks longer. Instead of asking: do you think you can keep doing this for much longer, when do you think this shit will ever stop? Will it? 

Will it? 

Eventually, Xavier’s growling stomach drives a wedge in their chatter. Benji snorts and retrieves the hotplate from his pack, the dehydrated meal, and the main course of one of his meals: a near-expired can of mixed vegetables.

“Oh, fuck.” Xavier groans in such a way that he has to ignore it. He puts a hand on his loud stomach. “You’re such a jack of all trades, man. What are they going to do without their chef? Their medic?”

“I’m only out here for the next —” Benji checks his watch, flicking the sleeve back to note the hands. “Two hours.”

Because you told me to be here, because we’re both in the area, because I want to see you, because we only ever get —

Xavier huffs, blowing a red-gold strand of hair from his forehead. “Two hours.”

Benji ignores whatever thing laces the end of that complaint. He can’t think about it like he can’t think about the groan Xavier had let out at the sight of food. It feels too real. Too personal. Too intimate. It makes him wonder, maybe, that he isn’t the only one who wishes for more time.

“S’enough to catch up, play cards.” He shakes the can, grimaces at the wet sloshing of its contents. “Eat a three course meal.”

Xavier bats his eyes, then shuffles around the curve of the fire. Puts himself closer to Benji, their crossed knees bumping. “That’s a cute nickname for me.” 

“Awful.” Benji accuses as he cracks the can with his pocket knife, sets it up to warm at the fire. From his pack he retrieves his canteen and a plastic bag. 

“Dude. If that’s weed —”

“It’s spices —”

“Oh, man. Benji. If that was weed I was going to fucking—” Xavier makes an obscene gesture, tongue tucked in his mouth, an eyebrow quirked. “You’re already like, my favorite British guy other than that one old guy from Taken.”

“He’s Irish, mate. Fuckin’ hell.”

“S’the same thing, almost?” 

Benji regards him impassively, eyes unblinking. “Xavier. You ever our side, you cannot say that shit.”

Xavier falls back to his elbows, his legs kicking perilously close to the fire as he laughlaughlaughs. Benji loves the fucking sound. He’s growing used to hearing it, although it’s only occasionally. Every so often sort of noise. He wants it to be a regular one.

“Holy shit. Benji, you should have seen the look — oh my God. Oh Jesus. Your face!”

Benji kicks at him half-heartedly, turning to focus on the food so the grin he sports is half as visible. 

*

They eat and chat. Then they retreat into Benji’s tent. It’s barely big enough for him, so they’ve got to cram together. Got to, of course. No other way around it. Xavier could leave, be back where he needs to be on time. But instead they fit piece by piece, limbs and arms and torsos. Wrap together, shove and knee and prod, until they find something comfortable. There’s not enough room to play cards. Not enough room to do much but face each other, chat more. Benji keeps the arm not tucked under his head on Xavier’s waist — because his hand fits there nicely, but also because he needs to see his watch. 

Because they talk. Because they can pass hours like they’re minutes. 

“Oh, she’s posh.” Benji’s laughing, trying to keep his voice down as much as possible. They’re playing a dangerous game already; his volume doesn’t need to add to the peril. “Won’t drink water plain, hates the taste.”

“You have bad water over there?”

“Naw. S’good, actually. Anyway, she, like — she’ll put frozen fruit in, yeah? Makes this whole concoction, says it tastes better.”

“I always forget to drink water.” Xavier admits. “She sounds smart.”

Benji snorts. “Yeah, she is. Smarter than me anyway. Smarter than the whole lot of us just by default. She didn’t join up.” 

Xavier squirms a little in place because Benji has tilted with the force of his laughter. The movement brings there. Bodies together again, Xavier’s hip more under his palm, their legs tangled together. It feels intimate. Their heads rest on their arms, on the cold ground; it feels like pillow talk, anyway. 

“You ever been camping?” 

Xavier switches topics like that naturally. Like he knows when something is hedging too morose for Benji to linger on. Like he can sense it, place guiding hand on his shoulder, steer him somewhere nicer. Benji wishes they were somewhere nicer. He wishes they were in his bed, actually. He shuts his eyes and imagines it. When they blink open, though, they’re still out in the middle of nowhere, Montana. At least — he thinks they haven’t crossed borders, anyway. Might be nowhere, Saskatchewan. He’d like that. Never been to Canada. Never been camping.

Benji tells him as much. Then keeps going, and tells him about that teenage trip to the nature reserve. How scared he’d been, how embarrassed.

“I think camping would be fun with you.” Xavier’s big palm brushes over his side. They’d both taken their vests off. Their weapons rest in the corner of the tent, shoved far enough away they don’t dig into any soft places. 

“Yeah? You don’t seem the type.”

“I like the water better.” Xavier says with a gleam to his eye. Like it���s the sun off the surface of the water right there, reflecting through a memory. Benji smiles a bit. It should frighten him just like the forest: how easy it to imagine Xavier in nicer, softer, prettier places. On the water with salt and spray and wind in his hair. 

In Benji’s bed, maybe. Even though it lacks a frame. 

His eyes lid, smile slipping. “If I fall asleep, will y’wake me up?”

“You have, what —?”

“Hour.” Benji hums. Most of the word trails off in a sigh.

“Sure.” And then, quieter: “I’ll just…keep watch.”

One of his eyes cracks open. He shoots Xavier a narrowed, knowing look of smug satisfaction. “Freak. You gonna watch me sleep?” 

“Yeah. You’re so pretty, Benji.”

Benji’s eyebrows climb his forehead. Xavier presses his lips together immediately. 

The words had escaped on their own, it seems. Immediate — manipulation or honesty, Benji’s not sure. He doesn’t care either. He watches big green eyes get bigger, blow wider in their panic. Round and wet. Benji thinks of spring rain, stark emerald leaves against a washed grey sky. He loves that contrast. It suits Xavier well, too. Thee crown of his hair in the low light still saturated, lovely; green eyes against the dark tarp behind him, over his shoulder. Benji brushes a hand over it, fingers tracing muscle that shivers under the touch. 

He doesn’t feel like he can sleep, anymore.

“Fuckin’ hell.” He murmurs. He traces the defined curve of muscle beneath Xavier’s black t-shirt, fingers slowing as they move from fabric to skin. His collarbone is sharp and stark; Benji traces that first, dips down to the hollow of his bobbing throat, moves upwards over his jaw. “Takes one, I suppose?”

Xavier blushes, then. And he really won’t sleep — he won’t do anything but push Xavier onto his back. Shove, more like. He shoves and Xavier goes. He makes a soft noise, hands landing on Benji’s lower back as he settles overtop him. 

“We don’t have time for this.”

Xavier huffs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he shakes his head. “I would be, like, so quick.”

“Love that you’re freely admitting that.”

“You’re kidding. No shame here. You are —” Xavier’s touch coasts up the back of his neck, fingers burying into his hair. Benji makes a noise of his own, something vulnerable and surprised, when it tightens. “Okay. Um. Tell me now if you’re serious about time. Because I’ll roll over and leave you alone. But —”

“Roll over.” 

Xavier swallows hard. He rolls over, shifting onto his other side. It’s warm from where they’ve been touching. Benji tucks himself against that broad back, face burying between his shoulder blades. 

“How quick?”

“Oh, fuck.” Xavier’s hips push backwards. It’s so fast Benji knows it’s reflex; uncontrollable. “That depends.” 

“On?”

Xavier draws in a long, slow breath. It wheezes out of him a little shaky, and his hands come up to cover Benji’s where they rest on his slim waist. In a delicate, submissive voice he says: “On, um, whose hand it is?” 

“Yours. I want to watch.” 

Xavier moans then. There’s a rustle in the bushes not far from their clearing that makes them both pause and laugh. The sound had spooked something out there. Something, Benji thinks, that sounded blessedly small. And yet he feels safe here — it wouldn’t have mattered if the thing stomped away. Not when Xavier’s belt clanks as he undoes it, not when the whole mass of his warm body tucked to Benji’s chest, quivers and twitches. 

“This all you want to take me camping for?” He rubs his face into scratchy black jersey-knit fabric. Inhales the scent of pine, dry leaves, cool mountain air, Xavier. “Charming little bastard.”

Xavier’s heavy breathing hitches; either on a laugh, or the fact that Benji has guided his hand, with fingers encircling his wrist, down the open zipped of his pants. He can feel the exact moment Xavier touches himself. The taut pause of his body, heart set to a racing pattern. Benji tucks his nose against the pulse in his neck, tongue darting out to swipe salty skin.

“Could roast marshmallows.” 

“Already cooked for you, dickhead.” Benji teases, keeping his voice soft and low. He cups Xavier’s elbow, chasing a hand up and down his forearm as it moves. He’s thinking of that array of tattoos; stark black against pale skin, how freckles peek through the blank spots in cute little constellations. 

“S-Stargaze?” Xavier gasps. The pace increases. His head falls back, skull knocking almost painfully against Benji’s forehead.

Something in his chest jumps at that: the simple, sweet offer to lay on their backs together, look up at the cosmos. It feels so normal. Peaceful. He thinks about the hole in his roof, the one he’s yet to patch. He can’t see the Milky Way from Liverpool, but wonders if something plucked the tent away if they’d be left under that wash of starlight and distant celestial bodies. 

Benji shuffles closer, wedging a knee between Xavier’s thighs. He presses upwards until he knows Xavier gets that good, mean little bit of pressure. And he knows it’s good because he pushes back, ass against where Benji himself is rapidly growing hard.  

Xavier whines properly, then. His hand pauses. Benji’s eyes lock to the tendon in his arm, how the whole limb shakes with effort. 

“Ooh.” He coos, briefly setting his teeth in a nip to Xavier’s shoulder through his shirt. “Interesting. M’taking notes on that.”

Xavier laughs again, although it’s far pitchier and shot-through with desperate, aching arousal than any of the laughs he’s gathered. Pretty. Breathy. 

“Yeah? Is that what that is — pen in your pocket?”

Benji bites down. Harder this time. He punctuates the trap of flesh beneath his teeth with a punch of his hips into Xavier’s plush ass. It pushes him forward with a gasp, a little jolt of his body across the small space of the tent. 

“Keep wankin’.” 

Xavier starts up again, his hand moving faster and moans coming quicker, with more desperation. “Do me a favor? Don’t say wanking.” 

“Right, okay.” Benji snorts and adjusts to put his lips to Xavier’s ear. His voice lowers without much of his own input. “Keep touching yourself. Don’t stop, Xavier. Get yourself off, huh? What a gorgeous fuckin’ boy you are. Go on.”

“Oh —”

Benji squeezes Xavier's hip, his side. His hand roams upwards, darts a path between firm pectorals. His fingers coast only briefly to his throat, the lovely line of a pale collarbone, before two touch to a soft, spit-wet bottom lip. A shiver runs through Xavier when it drops, goes slack, opens; when he welcomes the digits in with tongue, with soft suction, Benji offers a filthy moan.

Using that leverage, Benji tilts his sharp chin to the side. He wants to watch. See how as Xavier’s eyes squeeze shut and his cheeks flush with color. Wants to watch it wash over him, shake him. He keeps his other hand firm to Xavier’s waist, presses them together and bites his own lip at the instinctive nudges of Xavier’s hips backwards. 

He’s noisy. Louder still when he cums, teeth briefly clamping onto Benji’s fingers where they’re pressing down on his tongue. He strokes his thumb over Xavier’s jaw as he rides it out, still moving and rolling himself back. The friction isn’t enough, but it’s good. So good Benji can’t help but once again imagine them on the floor, in his bed.

He’d get out the nice sheets. He’d cook again. And that scares him. That terrifies him. More than the forest, more than getting lost, more than being alone. 

But he holds Xavier through the aftershocks, murmuring softly and patting his hair away from his temple. It scares him, how easily the tenderness fits into them. Into this —  it’s not a tender life, and it’s only inevitable that it rips apart this, too. Benji doesn’t want to be caught cleaved in two when it happens.

So, when it’s time for him to go, he doesn’t wake Xavier. He lingers, sure. Watches him sleep. A fist tucked under his chin, other long arm splayed out — it’s the most room he’ll have without Benji in the tent, and yet he still looks much too large. 

Much too pretty. Too there, too real. 

Benji’s quiet as he sets about getting ready to trudge back. The sun will be up, so he won’t worry about the forest, the darkness, the owl calls distorting into something nasty. He thinks about the beach as he walks. He thinks about little bits of frozen blueberry floating in seltzer water, tinting the bubbles lilac. He thinks about camping. He thinks about his mattress on the ground.

Xavier’s warmth lingers all over him. Enough. It has to be enough, for now.

*

When Xavier arrives back to basecamp, Lark’s shocked to find him looking more weary than he’d left. That’s not typical for his rendezvous asides. Usually, he's floating about a foot off the ground and concussion-loopy, grinning. Not now: he settles silent into the spot next to Lark, accepts a tray of unseasoned mush slid his way. 

“He doin’ okay?” Lark asks, focus darting to either side to ensure they have no eavesdroppers. 

Xavier’s gaze lifts for just a moment, but it feels as though it drags. He nods, then pauses, then shrugs with heavy weighted shoulders. He’s got dark, sleepless smudges underneath; he’s admitted before, in a gross display of affectionate longing, that sometimes all they did was talk and sleep. Sleep sleep. 

Xavier’s eyes well up as they stare at one another. There’s no apology necessary. Lark doesn’t need one. He doesn’t expect it of Xavier, either. He doesn’t expect a lot of things from Xavier, but what he admits next is not one of those things. 

“How do you get over…I mean. Every time. Every fucking time it’s like that, you know? What if this is it?” Xavier asks. He tilts his head for privacy, keeps his rough, sad voice low. “What if he’s — and what if that’s all I get — and I never —?”  

Lark swallows, too. He can’t reach out and hug Xavier; not with dozens of cold, prying eyes around them. So he nudges their boots together beneath the table, trying to communicate the feeling of his arms around Xavier’s shoulders with eyes alone. 

“I don’t think there’s any getting over it?” Lark admits just as quietly. After a moment, he sighs. “And I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“I know.”

It’s the corporal who responds. He watches as Xavier sits up a bit straighter with a purposeful, steadying breath. He pushes the tray away. Something flicks off behind his eyes. That makes Lark want to cry more than the conversation, than Xavier’s constant jumping into danger for one, two, three unguaranteed hours.

#writing #ua #bp #xw #lt #bp x xw #core au

[just-jordie-things]

A Lover And A Fighter - Richie Tozier

word count: 3122 warnings: swearing, sight sexual harassment summary: Richie promised (y/n) that he wouldn’t get into fights anymore, but sometimes he just can’t help himself.  Especially when it comes to protecting her.

___

It was an understatement to say that Richie was protective of you.  The boy was downright insane about it.  Everyone in Derry knew not to fuck with (y/n), not unless they wanted Richie Tozier tracking them down and beating them half to death.

You’d given him a talk numerous times.  But not once did they work, it always went in one ear and out the other..

He’d beaten up three ex boyfriends, a couple guys that looked at you the wrong way, and Greta Keene.  He was proud of that amount.

But he’d promised that he would try his best not to act out on your behalf anymore.  And you made him pinky promise.  That’s a big deal.  And he didn’t want to break your trust or your promise.

However… once he walked past Henry Bowers and his dumbass friends, and heard your name being mentioned, he couldn’t stop himself from getting involved.

“What was that?” He spoke before he could think things through.

The boys turned to him, each bearing a scowl that wasn’t out of character.

“I said, (y/n’s) not fucking worth it,” Henry practically growled out.  “Now why don’t you fuck off, Tozier?”

“Your damn fucking right it’s not worth it,” Richie spat back, turning away, doing the right thing.  “I’d break your goddamn nose” He muttered under his breath.

“It’s not worth it to try and get in her pants,” Henry called out before Richie could walk far enough away.

He stopped in his tracks.

“Cause she’s such a slut anyways, it’s not a real victory to fuck-”

Richie had never whipped around so fast.  And with the punch he delivered went all common sense, and all the promises and reassurances he’d given you to prove he was going to ‘mature’ as you’d begged him to do. ___

“Hey, Richie,” You held your phone between your ear and shoulder as you painted your toes.  “This is like, my fifth message… so… call me back, I guess.  Okay, bye”

You sighed as you set the phone back on it’s holster.  Richie wasn’t the type of guy to stand you up, especially on taco tuesday.  And even if something came up, he always always, called.  But now he couldn’t even bother to return one of your calls, leaving you to assume that he was upset with you for some reason, and therefore ignoring you.

You weren’t sure what you did, and at this point, you also weren’t sure that he was going to tell you either.

When Richie didn’t want to talk to someone, he was the damn best at avoiding them.

But he’d never given you the cold shoulder.  And there was a time that you’d thought he never would.  Richie was your best friend, you trusted and confided in him more than anyone else, even the other Losers.  And in the last seven years of being his best friend, he’d never treated you this way.  In fact, he always treated you amazingly, like a princess, it was very surprising actually, the way he cared about you.

It was that care that always led him to picking fights where he shouldn’t be, though.  It started with your ex boyfriend.  He broke up with you once a ‘better, prettier’ girl showed interest (his words), and the next thing you knew, Richie was throwing him against the lockers.

When your next boyfriend straight up cheated on you, Richie took care of him too.

He broke the third one’s nose.

And then there was the Greta Keene incident… Beverly may have let it slip that Greta had been writing nasty rumors about you in the girls bathrooms.  And Richie declared that he didn’t have a problem beating up a girl if it was justified (and if that girl had man arms).  That was when you drew the line, and made Richie swear to try and control his anger.  And he pinkie promised to work on it, and that he wouldn’t get into any more fights over you.

You weren’t sure why he got so enraged over these things.  It was just drama, and you found it pointless that he tried to bring you justice, since he was so reckless about it.

It was getting late, and you knew that Richie wasn’t going to return your calls.  So you finished painting your toenails blue, and decided to spend the night in your room, reading, alone.

Even though you should have been eating a bunch of tacos and gossiping with Richie.

Just as you got situated in bed, and had turned off the overhead light in exchange for the soft glow of your lamp on the bedside table, there was a knock on the window.

When you glanced over, you could tell it was Richie by his silhouette, and you frowned slightly.

Nonetheless, you got up and unlocked the window, before sliding it open.

“Where the hell have you been?” You asked.

He could tell that you couldn’t see his face very well.

“Busy, you gonna let me in?” He grinned.

“Richie, it’s-” You glanced over your shoulder to the alarm clock on your table, before glaring back at him.  “-midnight.  Are you kidding me? Did I do something to piss you off?”

“What? (y/n/n), no-”

“Then how come you were dodging all my calls? And you’re seven hours late?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest..

Richie crawled in through the window, even though you hadn’t invited him in yet.  But he figured it was only a matter of time before you cave anyways.

Your distressed face disappeared as you caught sight of him now that he was in the light.  His left eye was bruising, and so was his right cheekbone.  Along with a split lip and a bloody nose, it was clear what had happened.

“Oh, Richie…” You mumbled, hand reaching up to cover your mouth as your eyes widened at the sight of him.  “Tell me you didn’t-”

“Look it’s not what you think-” Richie tried to protest.

“Don’t give me that shit”

He knew he fucked up, because you weren’t yelling.  Your voice was soft, and low.  You were heartbroken.

He stared down at the ground, too anxious to look at you anymore.  Not when you looked so disappointed in him.  

“You promised- you-you pinky promised me-”

“I know-! I know and I’m sorry, really, I’m really fucking sorry” He told you, desperately hoping that you’d forgive him.

You shook your head at him, and gestured for him to sit before you left the room.  Richie was the most frustratingly complicated person that you knew, and it drove you insane.  Why he couldn’t just walk away and not beat the shit out of people… you weren’t sure.  But it really hurt you that he didn’t even seem to try, and he broke his promise.

Richie was sitting on the side of your bed when you came back into the room.  He chuckled as he eyed the first aid kit in your hands, the same one that you’ve used the last four or five times you dealt with the aftermath of his episodes of rages.

“You don’t have t-”

“Yes I do” You cut him off and unpacked what you’d need.

You were upset, you were fuming, actually.  It angered you that Richie broke his promise, not even a month after making it.  That promise was important to you, because he was important to you.  And now here he was, waiting to be fixed up by you once again after he so stupidly, so recklessly got himself beaten to a pulp.

But no matter how angry you were, you remained silent.  Dabbing at the excess blood under his nose, which at least wasn’t bleeding anymore.  And when you were finished with his cheek, you moved on to rubbing cream over the bruise on his cheek.  Richie’s eyes fell shut as he sighed in relief at the feeling of the cool lotion, and your gentle fingers.

He knew your silence wasn’t a good thing.  In fact, it was the worst thing.  It meant he messed up beyond redemption.  And he’d never fucked up that bad before.  Sure, he’d pissed you off and frustrated you on the daily, but that was just the hallmark of his friendship, and it was never anything serious.  Just when he dragged you out in the middle of the night for slushies, or got you in trouble in class because he was running his mouth.  He’d never made you this genuinely upset before.

“(y/n)-”

“Save it” You muttered before he could even start with the apologies.

That was another hallmark of his friendship.  You knew what came next.  The apologies, the excuses, the begging for your forgiveness, followed by a playful ‘you know you love me, you need me’ and puppy dog eyes that you couldn’t refuse.  Except tonight, you might just be able to.

He took you by surprise when he didn’t protest, and snapped his mouth shut.  Your eyes met his for a moment, before you started applying a smaller amount of lotion on the bruise surrounding his eye.  It was going to look a lot worse in the morning, but this would help with the pain now.

You hated that your heart ached for him right now.  You hated that you wanted to cry and hold him and make him feel better.  Because you were so fucking mad-

“I don’t understand,” The words suddenly spilled out of your mouth, as if your mind just couldn’t take them swimming around in your head anymore.  “I just- I- I don’t fucking get it”

He nodded, ducking his head down, only for you to lift it back up by his chin and continue with the lotion.

“I care about you, dumbass, and all I asked, which I thought was simple, all I asked was for you to stop with the fighting-”

“I know” He mumbled back.

You stared at him skeptically, wondering if he really did know, or if he’d show up again in a few weeks with the same battered face and guilty look in his eyes.  Richie didn’t look back at you.  He couldn’t.

“Who?” You asked, trying to soften your voice so he wouldn’t whither away from you like he was doing right now.

“You’re not gonna like it” Richie answered, fingers pinching at your bedsheets in an attempt to distract himself.  From the pain that burned across his whole face, or from the intensity in your eyes, he wasn’t sure, but he needed the distraction.

He hadn’t had a smoke in months, but it sounded pretty damn good right now.

“Well, newsflash, I don’t like any of this,” You told him.  “But I think I deserve to at least know what happened”

Of course you do, Richie hung his head in his hands.  You deserve so, so much better.

You watched as he rubbed his palms over his eyes, and it took everything in your power not to take his hands and hold them in yours, to tell him it was okay and you forgave him.

“Bowers”

He muttered the single word without even looking at you.  But he didn’t have to look at you to know exactly what you looked like in that moment.  You probably had a dropped jaw and furrowed brows.  Disappointment, disgust, anger, all displayed in one heartbreaking look.

“Richie…” You murmured without meaning to.  “Why? Why would you-”

“I had to, okay?” He shot up suddenly.  “I know that you hate it, and as soon as I swung I- I knew I fucked up, but I had to”

You wanted to argue it, argue that there’s always another option, that he can always walk away.  But you bit your tongue.  Something about the way he spoke told you that there was more to this than his stupidity.

“I’m sorry, (y/n/n), I am.  But I… I don’t regret it”

Your heart sunk all the way down to your stomach.  Richie had such a toll on your emotions and he didn’t even know it.

“Tell me what happened” You said quietly, and shifted closer to him.

You wanted him to know he had your undivided attention, and that he should have the chance to at least explain what happened.  You pulled your leg up to rest on the mattress, and turned your body to face him.

Richie looked at you before looking back down at his hand, which was now fisted in your blankets.

“Richie,” You hummed, brows furrowing as you saw how reluctant he was to opening up.  “Tell me” The words were so soft, it was almost inaudible.

You wondered what Henry could have done that Richie didn’t want to tell you about.  He must have really outdone himself.

“He was just talking shit-”

“Richie,” You cut off his bullshit before he could even start.  “Come on, the truth”  

“It’s not-”

“I deserve to know, Tozier! Whatever it is, I don’t care, okay? Just tell me-”

“He said you weren’t worth sleeping with!”

Just like that, you’d gotten him to snap.

And you shut up instantly, shocked by the outburst.  His words processed slowly in your head.

“He said it wasn’t worth trying because you’re- because you’re a slut, and it wasn’t fucking true!” Richie continued to yell.  Not at you, he just couldn’t contain his own anger anymore.

And you thought you were pissed.

“Motherfucker had your name in his nasty fucking mouth and he was telling his buddies fucking lies and I couldn’t- fuck I couldn’t walk away.  I should’ve fucking killed him”

You were staring at him, speechless.  You should’ve known it was about you, Richie was always so fiercely protective of you.  And Henry’s wouldn’t be the first nose that he’d broken protecting you.  But this wasn’t like before.  He’d beaten on your ex boyfriends after they broke your heart.  Henry hadn’t said or done anything to you, he was just doing what boys do.  (Make shit up because they think it makes them impressive when really they’re even shittier than they look)

“I didn’t mean to break your promise,” Richie huffed.  His face was slightly flushed after his mini tantrum.  His hands grabbed both of yours, holding them close to him.  “I’m so sorry I put you through this again”

You were still silent, but he knew this wasn’t a bad silence.  You were still processing, still trying to figure out how to forgive him while making sure this was the last time he crawls through your window looking like this.

“I hope you know that it came from a place of- of caring about you,” He added.  “Caring about you too much, I guess” He mumbled as an afterthought.

Your stupid lovesick heart skipped a beat at the sweet words.  Richie wasn’t one for words, at all, but he somehow managed to say the most loving things without even realizing it.

“I can’t promise it won’t happen again, that much is clear.  And if Bowers says one more goddamn thing about your ass I’ll fucking string him up- I will- but I can promise I’ll try, okay? I will, I’ll really try”

He squeezed your hands a little bit, hoping you believed him, hoping you trusted him.

Your eyes flickered between his for a moment, and you could see in them that he was being sincere, and that he was broken up over hurting you.

“You…” He started to speak, but trailed off unsurely.  “You deserve better” He finished.

His eyes flickered to yours for a brief moment, before he turned away.

You shake your head, before you let go of one of his hands, and took his chin between your thumb and index finger, turning him to look back at you.

“(y/n/n)-”

You cut him off when you leaned in and gently kissed him, trying to be mindful of his split lip.

Richie’s eyes remained focused on your closed ones, too stunned to close them, or really kiss her back.

He wanted to kick himself when you pulled away.  He managed to miss his fucking chance because he was too slow to do anything about it.

Your eyes fluttered open in such a beautiful way Richie swore you were holding his heart in your perfect little hands.

His brows were furrowed like you’d confused him, and you absolutely had.  He hadn’t expected you to kiss him.

“Why’d you do that?” He asked breathlessly, and your cheeks burned pink.

Your shoulders raised a bit in a shrug, and you had to bite your lip to keep from smiling too much.

“I just… wanted to” You whispered.

A smile twitched on the corner of Richie’s lips before his hand cupped your cheek, and he pulled you in again, so he could kiss you right this time.

Your lips were just as soft, if not softer, than he’d imagined they’d be.  And he’d imagined countless times what they’d feel like.  Daydreaming in class, before he fell asleep, and being right by your side for the last seven years.

Kissing you was bliss.

He did it again, taking your face in both of his hands and pulling you impossibly closer.  He could feel your lips smiling against his own, and once again, his heart was beating out of his chest trying to get to yours.

“I’m in love with you, (y/n/n)” He murmured when you parted, and you laughed softly.

“That makes sense,” You replied, reaching a hand up to play with the curls on the back of his neck.  “And… I love you too”

Richie gave you a sunshine smile, which you couldn’t help but return.

“I’m still upset, by the way,” You told him, still playing with the curls.  “But only cause I’m tired of seeing you covered in bruises, okay?”

He nodded, and you leaned your cheek further against the palm of his hand.

“I promise to try” He said, and then raised his pinky.

You looked from his hand and then back to him, a slight glare in your eyes.

“Come on, just do it,” He urged, you rolled your eyes, but he was persistent.  “Just link fuckin’ pinkies with me”

With a giggle you hooked your pinky with his, and held it for a moment.

“You want to go get tacos now?” He asked, and you grinned, nodding your head.

“You read my mind” You answered, and followed him back out the window.

It dawned on you that Richie was both your lover and your fighter.  And he held those titles proudly.

As he took your hand and walked alongside you down the street, he decided there were no other title he’d want to be labeled, besides yours. ___

taglist: @thegr8kush​

xoxo ~ jordie

#it #it chapter one #it chapter two #it fanfiction #richie tozier #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier scenario #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier fanfiction #finn wolfhard #finn wolfhard x reader #bill hader #bill hader x reader

[bunkerbucky]

Casual Sabotage *Bucky Barnes x Reader*

Reader is hit with sex pollen. Except she doesn't crave her boyfriend, Steve Rogers. No, it's his best friend, Bucky Barnes, that she wants inside of her. Bucky, in the beginning, is a good bro and refuses. But due to the fact she sucks his dick so good he kinda, sorta, loses that restraint and just fucks her regardless of who she belongs to.

Rating: Explicit [+18]

Warnings: Sex pollen= Dub-Con, Rough Sex, Rough blow-job, rough oral-sex, vaginal sex, praise kink, breeding kink, size kink- Bucky has a big dick in this lmao, choking and biting kink, infidelity; Reader cheats on Steve. 

TW: Dub-con- Reader is under sex pollen, so she actually cannot give consent and also because Bucky is so resistant in the beginning. It turns consensual on Bucky's part, he gives in to the temptation. But, obviously, reader is still influenced so... the lines are blurred.

Yourself and Bucky had searched the Hydra base from tippy-top to bottom. There was nothing out of the ordinary, which infuriated you a little. With the amount of recon work you both had to do, the long nights of watching the agents coming and going, you felt like you both deserved a small win, at least.

A long sigh escaped from your lips as Bucky's fingers typed furiously on the computers keyboard, a USB stick in hand just in case he found something exciting. Your arms were crossed over your chest, eyes scanning around the bases' security room, roaming the shelves and cabinets that held nothing of importance. A week of nothing, you wanted to cry.

"Hmm," Bucky low hum attracted your attention, "It says there's a basement to this building, we haven't checked that out." His steel eyes look over the screen and at you, you respond with a shrug of your shoulders. "We've got two hours before the cavalry arrives to pick us up, let's explore and see if we can obtain something to keep from Rogers from complainin'"

You giggle slightly at Bucky's comment, nodding in agreement with him. Steve would have a lot to say if you went back empty-handed, especially since he sent you both rather than himself. But you couldn't lie and say the thought of seeing Steve after so long didn't excite you. You had missed your boyfriend dearly, you weren't allowed on missions together since finally making things official. Work ethics and all that jazz.

Instead, you and Bucky had started to partner up, Steve didn't trust anyone but himself, and Bucky, to keep an eye out for you. Who better to watch over his best girl than his best friend, plus Bucky was your friend before you got with Steve.

"What if we go down there and there's a great, big monster waiting for us?" Sliding into the small elevator beside Barnes.

Bucky looked down at you with a raised eyebrow, "Then I'll be throwing you out as a distraction, so I can press the elevator door button to leave."

You both ended up laughing at his response, although when the doors finally did open and reveal a darkened basement layer... there was a moment of silence, you both side-eyeing one another at the lack of sound and movement.

Bucky stepped off first and the automatic lighting triggered him to pull his gun from its holster, his reflexes sharp and fast. You step off and follow Bucky down the hall towards double doors, the room through those doors was abandoned and huge. Desks with old computers, all smashed and out of use. Stacks of files and paper scattered on desks and the floor. Despite the mess, it all looks really promising, there had to be something amongst the chaos.

You both separate to cover more ground, you only had a limited time before you had to leave. You looked through paper and files, shuffling through stacks of meaningless bullshit. Hydra certainly kept a record of everything, including all the worthless crap. You wondered if they actually printed this stuff to lead you guys on wild goose chases like this, to make sure you were distracted with searching for something important amongst all their bullshit.

You ended up in the far back of the room, a small desk area had random empty vials littered across it. Files labelled in Russian, that you couldn't translate very well.

"Hey, Buck," You called over your shoulder as you lifted an empty vial, a cork tightly shoved in the top; curious. "Think I might've found something."

The vial itself was black, not black liquid, the vial was just black. It didn't feel weighted, it didn't feel like anything was moving inside of it. So, curiosity got the best of you because you yanked the cork off the vial. Black smoke puffed out and into your face causing you to inhale and go into a coughing fit. Waving your arms in front of your face, coughing at the inhalation of whatever was inside that vial.

It smelt like... old leather, peppermint toothpaste and...something else, like a deep musk. Odd.

"Hey, are you okay?" Bucky suddenly appeared at your side, a hand placed on your back and eyeing you with concern. He then grabbed the vial from your hand, it was clear and no longer black. "What happened?"

Your coughing had subsided, you felt fine. "I think there was some kind of smoke or whatever in there, I don't know. The black stuff just burst out, I was stupid-"

"Damn, right." Bucky looked mad, which was a given. "Hydra is known for making gas poisons, Y/N. That was a rookie move, never open strange vials." He didn't sound too mad at you, a little more concerned and worried.

You nodded, frowning when feeling the back of your neck sweating. You felt... hot. A sweat was taking over your body, your mouth was getting dry and your mind was going fuzzy. Bucky hadn't noticed, his eyes cast down to the Russian files on the desk, his hand flipping through the old pages and taking the information in with wide eyes. You briefly wondered if whatever is written in that file had anything to do with that vial.

"Fuck," Bucky muttered.

"What?" Your throat was scratchy, your breathing was becoming laboured and your palms were sweaty.

You didn't feel hot, though. You didn't feel sick either.

"Well, I'm guessing whatever was in that vial was... to put it plainly, sex pollen. It makes the patient unable to think of anything but sex, all they want and all they feel is lust. It's basically either used to breed or on prisoners- the pain of not getting off thoroughly enough can lead to the patient taking extreme measures: death." He shakes his head, you don't notice the horrified look In his eyes at the thought of maybe it being used on him when under Hydra's control. "You're likely fine, though."

"I wouldn't be so sure," You managed to gasp out, your thighs squeezing together and eyes closed, you wanted to feel embarrassed but you couldn't. "My head is spinning and, fuck, I need to get this off. I feel too hot, I'm burnin' up." Clawing at the collar of your own tact suit, your hands were shaking and you couldn't bring yourself to look at Bucky.

You wanted to look at him though. You knew he was standing close to you because you could smell him, he smelt like the black smoke did. He smelt delicious, intoxicating in the best way. God, you wanted him so badly. You needed him.

"It's going to be okay, Y/N. I promise, we'll get you back to Steve and he can-"

You shook your head and finally pulled the zipper down of your jacket, shrugging the bulletproof material off your shoulders.

"Need you." You managed to mumble out, lifting your gaze to Bucky, who was frowning and shaking his head. "Please, Buck. I need you! I can feel my skin crawling and-I'm in so much pain, please." Your voice a mix between a whine and beg.

"I can't- you're not thinking properly. Steve will be here soon and he can help you, he's your boyfriend, remember?"

You pulled the black, tight sleeved henley from your body and let it drop to the floor, it covered in sweat. You're standing in a sports bra and tact pants, chest heaving as you try to intake gulps of oxygen from your panting. Even with half your clothes off you still felt sweat bead and drip down your skin.

"I can't wait that long," You sniffled but no tears forming. "Please, I want you-I've always wanted you. You read the file, I'm going to die!"

Bucky continued to shake his head. "I won't do that Steve. It says that it took a couple of hours till that point, Steve'll be here soon and I'll explain to him what happened."

You groaned painfully, shaking your own head now. Not understanding why he couldn't just help you now. You were in immense pain and the throbbing heat in your core wasn't letting up.

You didn't want Steve to help you. You didn't need Steve to help you, it wasn't just because he wasn't here. You wanted Bucky. The smell of him, the heat radiating off his body when it was close to yours. You craved for him to touch you, to fuck you. You were sure the moment he touched you that the pain would ease, the flames that were consuming you would simmer down.

And you were certain that he wanted you too.

Taking the initiative you moved closer to Bucky, the short hairs on the back of your neck were drenched in sweat, you could feel it drip down your back. You placed a hand softly on his metal arm, the cool vibranium instantly cooling you down. Bucky let out a shaky breath and looked at you, eyebrows furrowing together as he took in your features. You were sure you could see the fight in his eyes, he wanted to help you. To touch you.

It was frustrating that he wasn't giving in. That he wasn't falling to his desires.

"I won't tell Steve, I promise." You whispered and pressed a kiss to his collar, inhaling his scent and shuddering when it filled your senses. He wasn't pushing you away, but he also wasn't giving in to touching you back. "It can be our little secret. I know you'll make me feel really good, he won't be able to help me like you can."

Her other hand trailed down his chest and stopped at his belt, Bucky was too busy telling her everything he had already been saying. Telling you how you love Steve and Steve loves you. It would break Steve's heart if he found out about this talk from you if he knew what you were saying to Buck. You didn't care, not right now anyway. You had always found Bucky attractive and before getting with Steve you had entertained the thought of Bucky, but he was just getting back his life. A relationship seemed too much for him, well that's what you thought.

You didn't settle for Steve, that was never the case. You love Steve, you know that. But, right now, here with Bucky, you knew that he'd be able to help you with this- more than Steve could. Steve was a peaceful lover, an attentive one. You needed this illness fucked out of you- at least, that's what your hazy brain was telling you.

Your hand slipped under his belt, a wide grin taking over your face at Bucky's shock, words choking out as you wrapped a hand around his dick. A sense of pride coming over you as he began to get hard in your hand, a few quick jerks as started to undo his pants with your free hand. Bucky was stunned into silence and compliance, unable to stop you just from the fact he hadn't been touched like this in a while.

He came to his senses when you noticed you get to your knees, his pants undone and pulled down his muscular thighs. Bucky slapped your hands away and tries to pull his pants back up, but you were putting up quite the fight. You roughly pushed him back, he ended up falling to the ground due to his pants restricting his movements. In the moments he fell down and was trying to figure out what happened, you had pulled down his boxers and gulped dryly at his semi-hard length.

"You're so big," You mumbled before wrapping your lips around the tip, a loud groan echoed through the room from Bucky.

You could feel him growing inside of your mouth as you tried to take more of him down, slobbering up his dick and licking around the shaft. Pulling off to run your tongue around the veins and down to his balls, gently suckling them into your mouth as you jerked his length till it was fully standing erect. You smirked to yourself at all of the noises Bucky was making, a hand being placed on your hair- which normally you hated Steve's hand in your hair, but you'd allow Bucky this time.

"Fuck my throat," spit was around your mouth and down your chin, "fuck my throat with your big cock."

Bucky's eyes were wide and lust-filled, there was still a hesitancy from him. A dilemma going on in that head of his, so you wrapped your lips around his cock again and started to slowly take him down. He was bigger than Steve, so much bigger, but that only spurred you on. You wanted him to roughly fuck your throat, you wanted to feel him at the back of your throat even after this.

You felt both his hands on your head... he started to push your head further down, the tip hit the back of your throat and you still hadn't taken all of him. He started to ease past your limitations, your eyes filled with tears as he stuffed your mouth impossibly full. Your lips stretched wide around his girth, he could feel your throat constrict around him and the slight gag you couldn't help because of how far he was down your throat.

"Fuck, so good." Bucky groaned lowly, eyes completely black and bottom lip trapped between his teeth. You knew your panties were soaking, a slickness collecting on your thighs as you rubbed them together, the flimsy material of your underwear was sticking to you and making you rub yourself just to alleviate the friction. "I'll deal with your pussy in second, right now I'm going to fill this hole up."

It was like Bucky snapped, the trepidation he was feeling before was long gone. It was now replaced with this new Bucky, and you loved him.

He wasn't merciful when he started to thrust in and out of your mouth, his balls were slapping against your chin harshly. The grip in your hair was harsh as he pushed and pulled your head to meet his hard thrusts, your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as he basically skull fucked you. Loud gagging sounds, your throat squeezing his cock as you fought for air, he only eased up when you looked like you were going to pass out. It was seconded worth of air before he repeated his onslaught, spit and cum was dribbling down your chin and onto your chest and sportsbra. Bucky kept his eyes on you, it made you shiver how he was looking at you.

Bucky didn't warn you when he was about to cum, instead, he held your head down, almost shoving his entire cock down your throat as loads of his cum spurted out and shot straight down your throat into your tummy. You hardly tasted his cum because of how far he was down your throat. He groaned as he came, swallowing thrusting his hips into your mouth as he milked his orgasm. He pulled you off his cock, it was still hard, thankfully.

He helped pull you to your feet then undressed you, roughly pulling the sports bra off your chest and yanking your pants down your legs. He ripped your panties to shreds and let the tattered pieces fall to the floor, his hungry gaze took in your shaking, naked form. Your thighs were glistening from your arousal and it was still leaking from your pussy, hardly any attention to it made you needy and wishing to be stuffed full.

"Turn around." The authority in his voice made you shiver.

You turned around and felt Bucky place a hand on your shoulder, bending you over the desk where you found the vial. The pieces of paper clinging to your sweaty skin and making you keen into his touch more. He kicked your feet further apart, a hand tickling the insides of your thighs and collecting your sweet juices. Expecting to feel fingers prodding around your entrance, instead, you felt a firm tongue lick from clit to fluttering hole, it dipping inside and collecting the juices wanting to leak out of you.

Your mouth fell open into a silent scream, his tongue was exploring so far into your pussy, his hands gripped your cheeks apart so he could push further inside of you. Tongue fucking you so roughly and expertly, your eyes almost went crossed out from the feeling. You didn't know you could be tongue fucked this good, but Bucky just lived to prove you wrong. The slurping sounds and moans from the man behind you, he lifted and bent your knee to rest on the table; opening you up further for his trained tongue.

"You're gonna have to let me have a taste of this everyday from now on, baby." Bucky groaned against your pussy, mouth closing around your clit as he sucked harshly, your mouths drowning out his own. "Taste so good," the tip of his tongue running figure eights on your engorged clit.

Bucky must've stayed between your legs for minutes, but it felt like hours. He pulled two back-to-back orgasms from you, only using his tongue. When he was done eating your pussy, he stood up and draped himself over your back, an arm wrapping around your neck as he breathed heavily into your ear. You could feel his cock nudge up against your pussy, sliding and coating himself in your juices.

"You ready for me?" You whined your response, trying to push yourself back against him but his arm tightened around your throat- not restricting your airflow. "Think your little pussy can take my dick, dolly?" You nodded in a rush, needing it inside of you otherwise you was going to die. "I've got you," The tip nudges against your entrance and began to push inside, the stretch was painful but welcoming. "Daddy's got you."

Your pussy fluttered around his length, the more he pushed his thick length in the more you moaned. He wasn't even half-way in when you started to babble about how he was too big for you, how he wouldn't fit inside of you. That only made Bucky want to prove you wrong, want to prove that you were made to take him. He started to thrust shallowly, rocking his length in and out of you, impaling you on him more whenever he pushed forward.

Once he was fully sheathed inside of you, he stopped and remained inside of your tight, heat for a moment. Relishing in the way you were split open around his cock, your walls were spasming around him and he was having a hard time not cumming on the spot. You felt so tight, so warm and wet around him, suddenly envious that Steve got to have you all the time. But he was planning on ruining you, to make sure the next time you fucked Steve it wouldn't feel as good.

He was going to fuck you so hard, so deep that you'd be wishing Steve was this big.

"Hang on, baby." That was the only warning you got.

Bucky started to pummel inside of you, his thrusts were hard and fast, his cock was kissing your cervix. You really could only just lay there and take it, your mouth open as moans were ripped from you, eyes rolling back as he kept impaling his girth inside of you. He was hitting spots so deep you knew you'd be feeling him for days afterwards, you'd be walking with limp and sore, it was worth it.

The way he was fucking you, it was as if he had something to prove.

The sound of skin slapping skin, his grunts and groans right beside your ear. His arm around your neck, clenching and cutting your airflow off at times, had you cumming within seconds and he still didn't let up. He didn't stop and fucked you through your third orgasm.

Your mind was starting to come down from the pollen, the pain and fever you were feeling had gone. Replaced now with pleasure and pain, a mix you didn't think you were into but now couldn't get enough of. All you could think and feel was Bucky Barnes. This was no longer the effects of the pollen anymore, this was pure you and riding on the afterglow of Bucky fucking you like you needed.

"Harder." You mumbled through heavy pants, tilting your head to look at him over your shoulder.

A smirk crossed his features, metal arm holding your hip in a bruising grip. Complying with your order and snapping his hips hard into your heat, grinding his hips against yours before pulling back out and repeating. It causes your back to arch, pressing your pussy back against his thrusts with little mewls leaving your lips.

"Kiss me." You plead breathlessly.

Bucky doesn't falter with that demand either. Draping himself over your body again and pressing his plump lips against yours, the kiss is far more gentle than his thrusts, but it still has you moaning against him. He was kissing you like you was fragile, yet fucking you like you were some kind of sex toy that he was using just to jerk off into. It was making your head spin and your pussy needy for more.

"You gonna come again?" Bucky chuckled against your ear, you nodded sharply and cried in pleasure when he bit your shoulder, cumming on the spot when his teeth dug into your flesh. "Mm'good girl." He mumbled as he licked at the tender spot, you could feel his hips stuttering their pace.

"Cum in me." You grinned and he cursed lowly, eyes squeezing shut. "Want you to fill me up, daddy. Fuckin' fuck a baby into me, fill me up."

The arm around your neck was pulled away, hand splaying across your back as he started to thrust into you in tight, fast and hard thrusts. Using your body to seek his own pleasure now, you were biting your lip at the thought of him filling you up. Not even caring if he actually did knock you up, you needed his cum inside of you.

Bucky found his end after a few careful thrusts, warm ropes of his seed filling you up and then some, he filled you up so much that it started to seep out around his cock. He groaned at the mess he made inside of you, he carefully pulled out of your abused cunt to see your hole clenching, trying to keep his creamy load inside of yourself. He had to look away because if he kept staring he'd get hard again, he didn't think you could take another round or load.

You remained bent over the desk and trying to catch your breath, his human hand was rubbing comforting circles on your back. Before you or Bucky could say something a buzzing sound captured both of your attention, it was coming from Bucky's pant pocket. He left you to retrieve his phone, eyes scanning over the device for a moment before he looked at you.

"Steve is waiting at the extraction point for us," You nodded mutely and you both got dressed in mutual silence.

He helped you to look presentable, ignoring the fingerprint bruise on your hip and the obvious bite mark on your shoulder. You were unsure how to explain any of that to Steve, you were also unsure how to explain what happened to Bucky. Obviously, you had still had those feelings for him, right? Otherwise, you would have been able to wait for Steve, it was like all sense of self-control had left you and only Bucky remained in your mind.

As you both left the base in awkward silence, treking the five miles towards the extraction zone, you wondered if you would have craved for Bucky if you was with Steve. If after all this time it was Bucky and not Steve you wanted.

All you knew was that Bucky had ruined you. You could still feel the impression of him inside of you, the way he had so deliciously stretched you open and impaled you on him. The way he had roughly fucked your throat like it was nothing but a hole to get off into. He had fucked you, in more ways than one.

(Please, let me know what you think! I’m also taking requests too! Honestly, kinda wanna write a part 2 where Reader tries to have sex with Steve but fakes her orgasm just to go to Bucky... I’m a bad person, I just think Bucky would be better than Steve tbh lol~ Lilith)

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x y/n #Bucky Barnes x female reader #steve rogers x reader

[littlepadika]

🎀 pink (Din)

🧼 laundry detergent (fake dating)

🍄cottage core (innocent kink)

with some fluff and smut included maybe?? 🥺👉👈💘

Hi @ppslutt I don't think we've interacted so hello! Thank you for this request! Omg i am both soft and amused by this idea. Hope you like this... Din is such a cheeky bb but at the same time a feral fucking machine hehe

500 follower celebration (closed now)

Warnings: Asshole ex boyfriend, protective mando, innocent reader, unprotected piv smut, fingering, 18+

source: @reilink

"Can I sit here?"

Din startled. He had been glaring holes into the metal table at the cantina for so long he almost forgot there were other people around. He was in between bounties. Waiting for Karga to come up with something worth his time.

He nodded at the seat across from him which you fell into. He would usually say no, preferring to be left alone, but you were hardly a threat. Young and apparently unarmed. You looked stressed. Eyes darting all over the room. Were you in trouble?

"Thank you." You tapped your fingertips on the table. "My ex is here and I don't want him to see me alone."

"Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"No." You stare down at your lap. "I just don't want to talk to him."

That made sense, but Din couldn't understand why you were talking to him specifically. Most people feared Mandalorians. He expected you to want to hire him or ask him to kill your ex. You glanced over your shoulder. Din followed your gaze, identifying the man in question, an arrogant looking human with his arm around a girl with her back to you both.

"I'll leave you alone in a minute." You turned your attention back to him. "What's your name, sir?"

"Mando." He grunted. You replied with your name. Din's ears perked up when he heard it. The sound of it echoing in his mind. He had never heard such a name before. "Have you ever seen a Mandalorian before?" Din couldn't help but ask.

"Is that what you are?" You felt embarrassed at his amused tone. "Am I supposed to bow or something?"

Din chuckled, which came out as a crackle through the voice coder. "No. But people tend to stay away from me because- because we're killers."

"Oh." You swallowed a gasp. It never occurred to you to be afraid. "I didn't know. I've never been off world."

"What the fuck are you doing here?" You snapped your head up to see your ex standing over you, an angry look on his face. "I thought you didn't like going out."

"I-I can go where I please!" You jut your chin out.

"Fucking bitch. You're just spying on me, aren't you?" Your ex spat. Din clenched his fist, not liking the way this bastard was speaking to you. He could easily break this man's arm and hardly break a sweat.

"I'm not!" You cried shrilly. "I didn't know you'd even be here."

"What are you doing with him?" Your ex turned to Mando with a sneer. "Tryin to make me jealous?"

"Obviously it worked." You glared. "Now go away."

"No hang on- you're gonna come with me and we're gonna talk."

"I think it's time for you to go." Din rested his hand on his holster, his voice impossibly low. You shivered in your seat.

"Whatever." The man gave up, backing up a little. "Good luck with this one, Mando. She's a prude."

You looked down in shame feeling angry tears sting your eyes. It was hard to believe you once loved this asshole. Din felt his temper flare in his chest. Your ex finally left, looking over his shoulder a few times to watch you and Din.

"I'm sorry." You wrapped your arms around yourself. "I'll leave you alone now."

"I don't mind." Din said, surprising himself. He hated seeing you so upset. He thought about going up to that bastard and putting a hole in his chest, but that wouldn't make you feel better. "Can I get you something?"

"I don't know." You looked up at the bar trying to read the menu overhead.

"What kind of fake boyfriend would I be?" Din joked, hoping to see you smile. It worked. You let out a small giggle into your hand that made Din's heart constrict strangely. He ordered you a Tatooine Sunset.

"You don't want one?"

"No. Thank you." Din hesitated before adding "I don't remove my helmet."

"Ever?" Your eyes widened.

"Not in front of people."

"Oh." You took a small sip. "It's really yummy. Thank you."

Din noticed the prick from earlier still watching you both. "Come over here, ad'ika." He tapped the seat next to him.

"Why?" You asked, looking up from your cup.

"Because that nurf herder is watching us."

"Oh." You frowned, moving to sit next to Mando.

"Lean into me."

"Like this?" You asked again, tilting your head onto his cold beskar paldron.

"Yes. Good." Din nodded, enjoying the look of anger that passed over that bastard's face. "Sit closer."

"I-I am." You blushed, moving until your legs were pressed against him. He wasn't super comfortable with all the metal.

"On my lap, ad'ika." Din patted his thigh. He was being bold but something about your instant trust in him made him want to hold you closer. Feel your soft body on his. You go bright red as you stand and then perch on his knee. His gloved hand covered your lower back.

"Look at him." Din instructed, smirking behind his helmet.

"Oh he's so mad." You giggled. "This is fun, mando."

"It is, ad'ika." Din couldn't' help but agree.

"Wh-what does adeeka mean?" Your tongue got caught on the syllables.

"It means 'little one'."

"I'm-i'm not a child." You frowned, ducking your head. A weak objection as you were sitting in his lap right now.

"It's not just for children." Din placed another arm around your legs, pulling them more securely onto his lap. He regretted that he was in full armor because he could not feel you but that was also probably a good thing or else he'd be hard. You smelled divine.

"Mando he's still staring." You whispered against his cowl which was surprisingly soft.

"Shall we make him even more uncomfortable?"

"Mhm." You nodded, kissing Mando on his cool beskar helmet, where his cheek would be. "How's that?"

"You can do better than that." Din encouraged, enjoying the little game.

"Oh yeah!" You grinned, feeling your competitive spirit rising. "How about this?" You lowered your head, leaning against his neck, kissing him through the cowl. You could feel his warm neck and strong pulse against your lilps. He swallowed hard, his hand tightening over your thigh.

"We should walk out now. Really make him jealous." Din suggested, mostly to stop you from giving him a full on erection.

"Oh yeah." You hopped off his lap, taking his large leather clad hand in yours. "Come on."

Once outside in the warm sun you laughed at your antics. You had never had so much fun. You used to fear your ex. He was mean and cruel. You felt safe now that you had Mando. You tried not to worry what would happen when Mando was gone. Din watched you hungrily, beaming up at him, your face lit up in the daylight. He subtly turned off his tracking view in his visor so he could just see you without any distractions on his screen.

"Thank you Mando."

"You're welcome." He let go of your hand making your face fall. "What's wrong?"

"I want to keep playing."

"What do you propose?" Din felt his cock twitch behind his flight suit.

"I think he would be really jealous if I had marks on my neck." You suggested boldly. Din shook his head in disbelief.

"You are not a prude, you know that? I'm sorry he said that to you."

"I was only a prude with him. He was ugly." You grimaced but recovered. "You're beautiful, Mando, and I want- I want you. Not just to make him jealous but I want you."

"Oh Ad'ika..." Din chuckled. "We can do both."

This led to Din taking you in the alleyway behind the cantina. First he knelt down between your legs and fingered you until you were dripping into his hand. He wanted to watch your little cunt squeeze and flutter. Your little mewls grew louder and louder until you came with a cry. Din loved how innocent you were. You didn't even know how to be quiet. You didn't hide your pleasure. He hoped your shitty ex was listening. Hearing your sounds that he never got to draw from you.

Next he stood lifting you up with ease onto his hips. You were already delirious from your first orgasm you shot up to the stars when he entered you. You tightened your legs around his waist, holding onto his broad shoulders. All thoughts of being seen or herd left your mind. You were overwhelmed, Mando pushing into every corner of your senses along with your pussy.

"Fuck..." Din grunted, feeling your hot walls suck him to the hilt. It had been so long he realized how sensitive he was. And you were so tight. He held your ass up, pulling it to grind into him with every stroke.

"Oh Mando!" Your head fell back against the wall. "This-it's so good."

"Mmm you feel amazing, ad'ika. So fucking perfect." Din watched your face slacken with the pleasure he was giving you, your plush lips teasing him. He wanted to feel them. He wanted to put his lips over every inch of you. Your eyes were drooping, staring right into his visor.

"Stay with me, little one. Look- look at us." He fucked harder, leaning back slightly despite the ache in his lower back, watching the point where your flesh met. Your little swollen clit was sitting right on top of his dick, smashing against his pelvis with every stroke.

"Oh-Maker-I'm gonna cum again." You cried, scrabbling against his shoulders for better leverage. You wanted to fuck him back. Din readjusted his grip allowing one hand to be free to circle your clit.

"Who's making you cum?"

"You! You, Mando!" You cried feeling your stomach go incredibly tight then spasming with your orgasm.

"You think anyone else could make you feel this?" Din sped up also nearing his own climax. His voice was rough and torn up, cracking and stressing the voicecoder.

"No-no one else!" You answered eagerly, wanting to please him. "I don't want anyone else."

"Good girl. Fuck- you want to be mine?" He felt his cock twitching. He was seconds away from cumming inside of you. This was the last chance to pull out.

"I want to-be yours- please." You nodded vigorously, looking up at him so he could see you meant it. You dug your heels into his lower back. His grunts became short and quick with each thrust then he came abruptly, crashing his forehead against yours. You gasped feeling the spot where you were joined grow incredibly wet.

"Stars..." Din hissed feeling his pleasure prickle down his spine into his cock. "You mean it, ad'ika?"

"Yes. Show me the stars, Mando."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My masterlist

500 Follower Celebration Masterlist

Permanent Taglist: @ajeff855 @what-iwish-you-knew @kirsteng42 @fan-of-encouragement @sleep-tight1 @pascalisfairyy @ceniington, @prettypedros 🧁, @pascal-rascal424 @axshadows @prideandpascal @frenchyjuju @pedrosmustache @blackmarketmummy @Idreamofboobear @pretty-brown-eyess @persephones-garden @javierpinme @mylittlesenaar @bellaorisa @elinedjarin @beskarboobs @beskar-candy @dindjarinneedsahug @anaaaispunk @headinthestarz

Din Taglist: @a-skov @pasckles

#din djarin #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x you #din x reader #din djarin smut #mando smut #the mandolarian #mando x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #mandalorian smut #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal fanfiction #padika's request game #follower celebration

[nev3rfound]

glass : b.b

after a messy breakup with your boyfriend, you can’t help but be a tad bit reckless during a mission leaving bucky to help pick up the pieces and learn why you’re acting the way you are. (2.5k) 

warnings: mentions of blood, violence, wounds, breakups 

masterlist / permanent taglist / etsy shop - requests open!

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website without being credited, it has not been approved to be shared by me. all rights reserved.)

also hi, we’re almost at 5k which is amazing and i’m planning a little giveaway! sorry if i’ve been quiet this week, i have been hooked with the ‘shatter me’ series and i can’t get enough lmao. but i do have more pieces in the works :)

Sitting in the Quinjet, you could barely register what Tony was saying as the words that were practically spat at you last night circulated your thoughts.

“Y/n?” You flinch at the call of your name, breaking you from the trance-like state you were in.

Steve smiles warmly as he takes the seat beside you as prying eyes watch closely, noting the change in your mood the moment you boarded the jet.

“Sorry,” You mutter to Steve. “late night.”

Nodding in response, Steve glances over to a concerned Bucky whose brows remain knitted together. Usually, you would sit with Bucky, joke around with him and Sam about all sorts. Yet today, you boarded the jet and sat alone, closing your eyes and blocked everyone out.

“Tell me ‘bout it.” Steve playfully huffs, trying to incite some form of reaction, but you remain silent. “Listen, if you wanna talk,”

“Thanks, Steve.” You cut him off, forcing your lips upward. “I’ll let you know if anything comes up.”

With that being his cue to leave you be, Steve shakes his head to Bucky as he wanders back toward Tony, organising the final details of the plan before you land.

“Okay team, descending now, arriving in less than ten.” Tony announces, ensuring he has everyone's attention- including yours. “So, Cap, you and Romanoff will head straight for the side entrance whilst Wilson and Barnes take the back. I want Y/L/N and Barton to head for the hostages.” Tony explains, watching as you all nod along.

“And what will you be doing, Tony?” Steve asks as he picks his shield up.

“I will be with Wanda,” Tony states as Wanda playfully salutes. “on standby in case something goes wrong.”

“Not that it will.” Wanda comments but quirks a brow to Sam who holds his hands up in defence.

“That was a one-time thing, witchy.” Sam retorts, causing Tony to roll his eyes once again at the team's antics.

“Anyway, get ready.” Tony finishes before retreating toward the pilot whilst everyone gathers their weapons.

Whilst grabbing your gun and placing it into your holster, you notice the small bruise forming on your wrist as your sleeve rises slightly. You quickly tug on it, thinking nothing of it as you reach for the set of knives you usually carry.

Yet Bucky noticed, it was impossible for Bucky to not notice the smallest of details about you. His heart ached at the sight. You’re known for being clumsy and would often laugh about the matter. If you got a bruise, you’d joke about it, explain how this one happened in another idiotic motion as opposed to hiding it.

“You ready for this one, Y/n?” Clint speaks up as he appears by your side, counting his arrows as you tighten your grip on your favourite knife, causing your knuckles to lighten in colour.

“As I’ll ever be.” You remark as the Quinjet door opens and you all walk out, splitting up into different directions.

*

It wasn’t supposed to happen, you weren’t prepared enough as a team for what you encountered inside the building.

You reached the hostages and quickly untied them. They thanked you senselessly whilst Clint remained on guard, keeping a close eye on the door as you helped them to their feet.

“Who are you?” One man speaks up, his voice hoarse as he grips your arms for dear life.

“We’re the Avengers.” You softly tell the man, watching as the fear in his expression lightens, and he starts to laugh maniacally in your face.

Trying to prise yourself from his grasp, his nails dig into your skin. “You made a mistake coming here.” He states, breaking his gaze from you momentarily, giving you a chance to slam your foot into his.

With the man's grip easing, you snap yourself from his embrace and hit him with the butt of your gun. He falls to the ground, and you raise your gun to everyone else in the room.

“Who else is a plant?” You ask, looking at all of the terrified faces staring back at you. “Who else?!” You repeat yourself, adrenaline rushing through you before you fire your gun into the ceiling as they all jump.

Clint whips his head around, evidently shocked having never seen you react this way before. “Y/n,” He speaks up, but you ignore him, keeping your attention fixated on the ‘hostages’ before you.

“No one, Ma’am.” A little girl announces as she releases her mother's hand, stepping toward you. She looks up at you with her bright brown eyes and holds her hand out. “Are you here to save us?” She questions.

Kneeling down in front of the girl, you smile softly, your cool exterior melting. “Yes, and you’re all going to be okay, I promise.” You tell her, breaking your gaze as you look around at everyone else.

“Y/n, now.” Clint states as you rise to your feet, holding your hand out to the little girl who gladly accepts.

“Okay, follow me, you’ll all be safe if you stay close.” You explain to the dozen hostages who huddle together, following behind you and Clint.

“Tony? We have them, there was a plant, tell the others.” Clint speaks through the comms as he walks ahead, his bow at the ready in case anyone else lingers in the corridors.

Glancing over your shoulder, you check to ensure the hostages are still with you. Whilst your head is turned, you hear Clint groan and fall to the ground with a thud.

“Clint?” You rush forward whilst the hostages remain still. Holding your gun up, you turn the corner, catching sight of a man stood with his gun aimed at Clint’s unconscious body. “Corridor seven, ground floor.” You speak up, hoping someone hears you through the comms.

The man before you smirks as his gun is now aimed at you whilst you mirror his actions, not daring to let your hands shake as his words ring through your ears.

“You really think that’s a wise move?” He asks, removing the safety from his gun.

“I’m not one to go down without a fight.” You state, hearing a collection of footsteps echo behind the man as a glint of metal flashes across your eyes.

The man's focus shifts to behind you, but his gun remains trained to you. “Ah, I see we have a friend.” He chuckles and you can feel your heart rate increasing as the little girl stands by your side.

“She has us.” The girl states, standing tall as the hostages emerge and gather behind you.

Sighing under his breath, the man clicks his tongue. “Well, this is sweet and all, but you’re not making it out of here alive.” He scoffs, lowering his gun to the little girl.

Everything plays too quickly for Bucky’s liking as he runs toward the man, his arms outstretched and fists clenched.

Upon watching the man pull back the trigger, you force the little girl back, feeling the impact of the bullet hit your stomach. Another shot rings through your ears, but you’re already down on the ground, curled up.

Bucky steps over the man's body, not caring to step in the blood that pools around his head as he rushes toward you.

“Hey, doll, stay awake for me, okay?” Bucky pleads, brushing your hair out of your face as he glances down, noticing your fingers are coated in crimson. “Sam, get Tony, now!” He yells, picking you up in his arms as both Steve and Natasha appear, taking in the sight before them.

Bucky looks over to Steve, and he doesn’t need to say anything. “Go, we’ll handle it.” Steve nods to Bucky as you hang in his arms, eyes barely open.

Rushing past the hostages who stare with wide eyes, Bucky keeps his on you. “Come on, Y/n,” Bucky mutters as the cool breeze hits his face, feeling you move in his arms and bury your face into his chest.

“I’m cold,” You mumble tiredly, barely able to keep your eyes open as they droop heavily. “just five minutes.”

“No, don’t you dare,” Bucky firmly tells you as the Quinjet comes into view, the sight of worry evident in Wanda’s expression as she meets Bucky halfway, guiding him into the jet.

“What happened?” Wanda asks as Bucky places you down on the ground, reaching for the medical supplies on board with urgency, ripping out various weapons and mechanical items until he finds some form of bandages.

“She tried to save a little girl,” Bucky sighs as Wanda cradles your head, her fingers hovering over your temples as a red glow forms whilst Bucky applies pressure to the wounds, watching as they soak instantly from your blood. “we, we have to go, now!” He yells to Wanda who barely flinches.

“Tony? Can you handle this?” Wanda questions through the comms.

“Just get Y/n back, we’ll sort this out.” Tony responds, trying to hide the fear in his tone for the younger Avenger, one he can’t help but view as a daughter in many respects.

“She wants to be strong,” Wanda whispers, hearing your thoughts as you drift further and further away from consciousness. “but she’s scared. I, I can hear his voice.” Wanda trails off as Bucky tenses up, knowing exactly who she means.

Bucky can feel his heartbreaking as the Quinjet flies through the air at an accelerated rate back to the compound.

“Oh Y/n, you’ve got so much coming for you,” Bucky takes one of your hands in his, gripping it tightly as he focuses on your face, the light disappearing from your complexion. “don’t go, not now, doll.”

*

Lying in your own bed, you remain in a deep sleep whilst Bucky hovers by your bedside. Ever since you were brought back and cleared, he insisted you’d feel more comfortable in your own room.

“Anything?” Wanda speaks up, peering in your doorway as your chest rises and falls rhythmically. Bucky shakes his head in response, aware of Wanda approaching your bed as she perches on the edge, her fingertips dancing over your head.

Wanda quickly pulls her hand away, the red wisps disappearing as she avoids Bucky’s cold gaze. “What is it?”

“I’m not sure,” Wanda mutters, moving your hair out of your face. “but something happened before the mission, something to do with him.” Wanda sighs. “I just, I can’t tell what it was.” She explains as Bucky keeps a straight face, unable to take his eyes off the various bruises now exposed on your skin, the cuts and scars forming alongside them.

“She’s always been agile on missions, even if she’s clumsy.” Bucky breathes out, uncrossing his arms from his chest. “But she’s careful, she’s always careful.” He repeats to himself, wondering why you’d risk yourself like that when it could’ve been avoided.

“I had to,” You mumble, your eyes now beginning to open as you look up to your two friends, forcing your lips upwards. “did I miss much?”

A chuckle escapes Wanda as she looks over to Bucky, seeing the concern in his face refusing to ease. “I’m sure Bucky will fill you in.” Wanda tells you as she touches your hand before heading to the door. “It’s good to see you awake, Y/n/n.” She smiles at you whilst Bucky slowly moves closer to your bed, his legs leaning against the frame.

“So,” You sigh, still feeling your muscles burning beneath the covers on top of you. “is everyone safe?”

Trying to hold back the scoff building, Bucky simply nods.

“Good,” You nod to yourself, a sense of relief crossing your system. “I’m glad it worked out.”

“Worked out?” Bucky snaps, noting your eyes widening as you struggle to sit upright without wincing. “No, don’t try and move,” His voice softens momentarily, forcing you to remain still. “Y/n, you think almost dying is a mission ‘working out', really?” He huffs loudly.

“Look, the hostages are safe, the team holding them was taken care of so yes, Bucky, I do think it worked out.” You bark back, your tone rising.

“God, you’re an idiot sometimes.” Bucky remarks, turning away from you as you look down at your lap.

“Max said that too,” You mumble.

Turning on his heels, Bucky focuses on you closely. “He said what?”

It was no secret Bucky wasn’t the fondest of your now ex-boyfriend, Max. He tolerated him for your sake, not wanting to lose your best friend in the midst of a relationship. But Max was never the most understanding, and this is just another reason Bucky mentally adds to his list of why Max was a lousy boyfriend.

“Forget it,” You brush it off, refusing to meet Bucky’s cold blue eyes. “it was nothing, I went to get the last of my things the other night and, and we had an argument.”

“What did he say to you, Y/n?” Bucky persists as he now sits down on your bed, his hands remaining in his own lap as you play with yours, fidgeting.

“He said I’m too fragile for my own good,” You admit, hearing his bitter words ringing through your head. “that I’m weak, and I shouldn’t even be an Avenger.”

Bucky can feel his blood boiling, the list in his mind becoming mere shreds of paper as he imagines what he’ll do to Max if he sees him again.

“And maybe I am, he said I’m broken goods,” You add, lifting the sheets from your body to reveal the stitching in your skin where the bullet was. “what difference does one more scar make?”

“You don’t believe him, do you doll?” Bucky asks sadly, afraid he already knows the answer.

Your prolonged silence only causes Bucky’s heart to sink further into his chest.

“Y/n,” Bucky speaks up, taking your hand in his. “you’re not broken goods, you’re not made of glass that shatters easily.” He explains, unable to meet your teary gaze. “You’re one of the strongest, most selfless people I’ve ever met, you’re not fragile, doll.” He rubs his thumb over the top of your hand, avoiding the fresh scuffs lacing your knuckles.

“You think so?” You whisper as tears fall down your cheeks before you can stop them.

Now catching your eyes, Bucky smiles softly. “I do, Y/n.” He admits, watching you struggle to shuffle in your bed as you force back a whimper.

Patting the spot beside you, Bucky raises a brow. “Will you stay, Bucky, please?” You whisper, too afraid of your own voice.

“As long as you know you’re worth so much more than him, Y/n, okay?” Bucky asks as he lifts his arm up, wrapping it around you as you curl up into his chest. “You deserve the world, doll.” He mutters, feeling your grip around his waist loosen as your breathing softens. “And I promise to show you someday.”

Bucky brushes his lips across your forehead as light snores leave your lips, unaware of the promise Bucky has made to you and intends to keep it.  

t a g l i s t (thank you for the support!) link in my bio and at the top of this piece to add yourself☺️(if your user isn’t tagged, it’s because nothing comes up sorry!)

@biss-stuff @psychicforest  @lourightm @mywinterwolf   @justsomedreaming @stanlux17 @smokeandnailz @supermoonchildbroski @xrosegoldwolfx @courtneychicken @marvelsangels @supraveng @tommy-lee-81 @smilexcaptainx @fandom-princess-forevermore @sarge-barnes-sir @pleasantlysecretdream @decaffeinated–fangirl @howdyherron @kirby-boo @florencxs @eldahae @handmesomecoffee @hi-my-name-is-riley @dev1lbella @thanossexual @alissaginger @sambucky8 @notbrooklynsblog @nikkixostan @cosmiccaptian @adoreyou976 @sarcasticallywitty15 @multi-fandom-princess07 @16boyfriends-and-me @courtneychicken @mackevanstan80 @torchwoodoctor @pleasantlysecretdream  @yougottalovefandoms @magicalxdaydream @soccer-100000 @tenaciousperfectionunkown @talksoprettyjjx @btsonthedaily @jessyballet @katiaw2 @buckyswildflower  @lucrea @weenersoldierr @katiaw2 @lucrea @amelia-song-pond @bluelakeee @dottirose @emilytheukuleleplayer 

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #lol max is based on a real guy i used to know #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes headcanon #avengers #avengers imagine #avengers imagines #avengers oneshot #avengers angst #avengers fluff #avengers x reader #avengers au #james barnes #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #james barnes imagine #james barnes imagines #james barnes fluff #james barnes angst #james barnes x reader

[darksiders-drabbles]

It would be wonderful to see Strife being taken care of, for a change. He needs love- lije, suppose he comes in from a mission and immediately gets doted on. "Im so glad you're back! You must be so tired, here, have something to eat! I made you your favorite!"

Strife Deserves Love

Hi Anon! 

I wasn’t sure if you wanted a reader insert, but here it is! I really liked this request, it’s very sweet <3

Reader is gender neutral and only referred to as “Reader”. Hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: N/A, fluff

Strife trudged through the unlocked door of Readers’ home, groaning at the ache in his muscles. He shrugged off his armor in the entryway, half-heartedly kicking off his boots away from the door. He peeled off his mask, dropping it along with his weapon holsters on top of a table nearby. 

He didn’t mind slaughtering demons, hunting down rogue angels and/or retrieving lost artifacts. He enjoyed it, really. But lately it felt like the workload was unending. On top of that, rescuing humans that hadn’t made their way to the city yet was a challenging task. He gets it, he’s big and scary and just about everything about him is intimidating. But honestly, it was exhausting trying to get the more fearful ones to calm down and accept an escort to the city. Or at the very least some directions! He ran a hand down his face with a sigh.

“Strife? Is that you?” Reader called. Some of the tension left his shoulders at the sound of their voice.

“Were you expecting Santa?” He chucked. They came around the corner from their room, grinning at the sight of him. 

“Maybe, but I’m glad you’re here instead!” 

A big, dopey smile stretched across his face at that. “How you doin’, sugar?” 

“Great! I’ve got a surprise for you.” Their grin widened when confusion passed over his expression. “Well, a few surprises, actually.”

“That so? What did you have in mind?” 

They gestured for him to follow, so he did. He found himself in their bathroom. He raised a brow at them. The tub before them is full of warm water. The aroma of sweet spices hung in the air and filled his lungs when he took a breath. 

“You trying to say I smell bad?” He jested.

“Nothing like that,” They chuckled. “You’ve been really stressed lately, so I was hoping this would help you relax.” 

His heart fluttered with affection at that. “You planning on joining me?” He teased. The flush that adorned their face, the sweet shyness tensing their shoulders, and the beautifully bashful smile on their lips was certainly a treat. 

“Maybe another time. I still have some things I’d like to get ready for you.” 

He smirked as he peeled his undershirt off, preparing to dip into the water. “What, you gonna treat me to dinner, too?”

“How’d you guess?” They winked, leaving the bathroom.

He didn’t reply, staring at the back of their head in wonder. When they turned out of sight, he removed the rest of his clothing. He slumped into the tub and let loose a groan of relief. He leaned back to submerge himself and soak. Strife appreciated the thoughtfulness toward his well-being. It wasn’t often that he got overwhelmed with his work, but when he was, Reader was right there ready to ease his burdens. The warmth that filled his chest had little to do with the water.

After several long moments, he could smell Readers’ cooking. The water had begun to cool, so he took a bit of extra time to clean the dirt from his hair and body. Upon finishing up, he drained the water. He toweled off, dropping the cloth in a heap on the floor by his clothes. They left some comfy pajamas for him on the counter that he quickly pulled on before leaving the bathroom.

Reader was flitting about the kitchen when he found them. He leaned against the doorframe, just watching. Immediately he recognized the ingredients of his favorite meal. A soft smile found its way to his face.

“Oh! You’re right on time, I’m almost done here.” They look back at him, grinning. “Find a place to sit, I’ll bring the food to you.”

“You got it, boss.” He smirked. He wandered to the living room, flopping back onto the couch. He rested his eyes a moment, sinking into the soft cushions. 

“Here you go.” His eyes popped open at the sound of their voice. 

“Thanks, sunshine.” He accepted the dish and dug in, grateful. The meal was shared in content silence. He caught them sneaking glances at him throughout. 

When the food was gone, Reader took the empty dishes to the kitchen. When they stood before him again, there was hesitation in their stance. 

“Something wrong?” He asked. 

“Well…” They sat back down next to him, bashful. “Do you want to stay the night tonight?” 

His heart clenched again with affection. “Oh? Did you miss me that much?” He teasingly said, trying to cover up his fluster. 

Reader rolled their eyes with a smile. “Maybe.”

Dropping the act with a fond look in his eyes, he replied, “Me too.”

They patted their legs. “Wanna lay down?”

He rested his head on their thighs without hesitation, staring up at them and wiggling his brows. They pinched his cheek in retaliation, he batted their hand away; laughing. They closed their eyes and leaned back. He gazed up at their face in admiration, his eyelids growing heavy. He lost himself in the sound of them breathing and the peaceful atmosphere. 

His eyes snapped open when their fingers began running through his damp locks. It was soothing and soft and, and-! 

He sighed as a feeling of bliss sunk its weight into his bones. Each scratch to his scalp pulled him further and further into sleep. He reached for their other hand and pulled it to rest on his stomach. They gave his fingers a squeeze before he rested his hand over their own. Gently, they tugged tangles and knots out of his hair. If he could cry, he probably would have. But, instead he just leaned into the feeling. He snuggled his face against Readers’ stomach, finally giving into the warmth as sleep claimed him.

#Darksiders #darksiders strife #strife darksiders #reader #reader insert #fanfic #fluff #strife x reader #ask

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Special Order

Warnings: noncon sexual acts and rape, fingering, breeding and mentions of forced pregnancy.

This is dark!Lee Bodecker and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Based on this drabble request: Lee Bodecker + “Why are you crying?” + breeding/forced pregnancy + y/n is a waitress and the sheriff is obsessed with her, and what better way to make her his 4ever than put some babies on her.

“He’s here again,” Mandy said as you loaded up your tray.

You didn’t need to ask who, you heard his gruff response as he came in and was seated in his usual booth. He was always alone but insisted on a whole family-sized table to himself. You sighed and gave Mandy a look.

“I’ll just get this taken care of then see to him,” you promised as you turned carefully.

“Good, ‘cause I ain’t dealin’ with him no more and he won’t deal with no one but you,” she whined and put a ticket in the window.

“Yeah, I know,” you made yourself smile, “stubborn man that one.”

“I ain’t know why he prefers you,” Selma said as she loaded the coffee machine, “probably ‘cause none of us got the patience for that.”

“Patience,” you scoffed, “not what I would call it.”

You swept over to the family of five and set out the plates one at a time. You finished up at the table and replaced your tray on the stack. You looked at the sheriff and he stared back expectantly. He did that, just watched until you came over.

You went over with a sickly sweet smile and took out your notepad. You tapped your stubby pencil on the paper.

“And what are we gettin’ today, sheriff?” you asked in your sugary tone.

“Ah, now don’t be usin’ that voice with me, honey,” Sheriff Bodecker said as he fiddled with the menu.

“You need to start treatin’ the other girls nice,” you retorted.

“I don’t like the other girls,” he read his menu and frowned, “I never tried the… onion dip.”

“Uh huh,” you said unimpressed, “well, I’ll just warn you, sheriff, I can’t and I won’t stop Mandy from spitting in between the bread.”

He frowned at you and put the menu down. “I’m sorry, it’s not that I’m tryna be rude, honey--”

“What did I tell you about callin’ me that? I’ll overlook it once or twice but I’m not one to put up with your gull, you know that,” you lowered your brows at him.

“I’m not tryna be rude, miss,” he corrected himself, “I’m only… I only prefer you is all.”

“Sure, sure, is it my sunny smile or my breezy demeanour,” you teased, “the onion dip then?”

“Club sandwich, extra bacon… miss,” he folded up the menu, “please and thank you.”

“I’ll have Mandy bring it right over,” you said, “now you don’t make me come back, I got other customers.”

👮

When the diner closed, you took your usual route home. Your tips were tucked deep in your old purse and your scuffed soles padded on the pavement, then the dirt path that trailed off to the old country house. You lived with your ma on her father’s ancient farm, your pops long dead.

As you turned up the hill that led to the long drive, a flash of lights stopped you in your tracks. You looked up at the distant house, a single window lit by the old oil lamp your ma still used. You sighed and turned to face the cruiser parked in the shadows of the beech tree.

You recognized the silhouette as he stood straight behind the driver’s door. The sheriff fixed his hat as he came around and looked you over in the early twilight. He didn’t spend much time in town, often riding around the county and only stopping by to sit down at Sal’s and terrorise the waitresses.

“Sheriff,” you greeted, “whatcha doin’ around here?”

“Whatcha think?” Bodecker asked as he leaned against the hood, his large stomach sticking out from his open leather jacket.

“My ma’s waiting on me, I brought her leftovers from the diner,” you waved the paper bag.

“They already cold,” he lit a smoke and flicked it, “I wanna see ya.”

“Now, sheriff, we had our time--”

“I always thought I tip you well considerin’ the mouth on ya,” he took a long draw on the cigarette, “ain’t you?”

“Of course, sheriff, but I’m not on the clock right now and ma be expectin’ me,” you said.

He took another drag and threw the half-smoked stick away. He stood straight and reached to his holster. He unsnapped the small strap but made no move to free the pistol. You took a step back, terrified, and swallowed.

“Sheriff,” you said cautiously.

“Honey, please, you know I don’t be wantin’ to hurt you now,” he ran his thumb along the butt of the gun, “so you come put down those scraps and let me get a good look.”

You stared at his hand on his pistol. You took a deep breath and stepped closer. You set paper bag on the hood of his car and he slid your purse from your other arm. He tossed it beside the leftovers and trailed his fingers down your arm.

“I always thought that was a nice colour on ya,” he grabbed your wrist and pulled you against him, your ankles twisted and you collided with his round stomach.

“Thank you,” you looked past him as you smelled the bacon still on his breath.

“Look real nice, honey,” he undid the top button of your dress and you flinched, biting down as you stared at the beech bark. He groped your chest and you closed your eyes. When you opened them, they were wet. “Why are you crying?”

“Can I go now?” your voice wobbled despite your effort to hide your distress.

“We ain’t even started, honey,” he undid another button, and another, and exposed your cleavage above your brassiere “Look at you.”

“Please, sheriff, I want to go home,” you caught his hand and he grabbed your jaw. You choked on your fear as he turned you and pushed you against the bumper.

“You’ll be home soon enough,” he snarled, “you put your hand down my pants and make me let you go.”

You shook your head in disgust. You looked him in the face, all the light drained from his eyes as his jowls lined with malice. He squeezed your jaw and you cried out in pain. You reached to his belt blindly and fumbled to undo the buckle. You felt how hard he was through his pants as you pushed down his fly.

“You’re hurtin’ me,” you whispered as you pushed beneath his briefs.

“I could do a lot worse,” he threatened, “ah that’s it, honey.”

You wrapped your fingers around his dick. He was thick and hard against your palm. You stroked him and he shuddered as he leaned against you. His hand slipped down to play with your chest again. He had you pinned to the car as you kept your wrist moving in the confines of his pants.

He groaned and trembled as he urged you faster and you obeyed, turning your head to look at the farmhouse just up the rise. He grabbed your face again and leaned in. His hot breath grazed your lips and he pressed his mouth to your cheek.

He edged you back onto the car and stepped between your knees. Your skirt rode up as he forced your legs wide around him. You pushed on his chest with your free hand and he flung you onto your back with a vicious shove.

You sprawled across the hood, your bags falling to the ground as he grabbed your hips. He ripped your hand from inside his pants and rolled his briefs under his dick. You kicked out as he reached under your skirt and wrestled off your underwear. You cried out as he ripped them free of one ankle.

“No, please, don’t do this. Sheriff, please--”

“You can keep callin’ me sheriff,” he purred as he bent over you again and searched for your entrance with his fingers.

“How long’s it been?” he asked as he caught his tip and poked it along your hole, “Two years, you think I’ll wait forever.”

“I don’t-- Get off of me,” you sank your nails into his leather jacket desperately, “get--”

You gulped as he sank into you all at once. It hurt and sent a pang up your spine. Your wet eyes began to leak as you realised you couldn’t stop him. He thrust and sent another agonizing bolt through you.

“Two years, honey, you think we got time left?” he rutted between ragged pants, “‘bout time you get a baby on ya.”

“Wha-- oh, please--” you gasped as he kept you pinned to the cold hood of the car.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of ya,” he rasped, “you ain’t gotta keep pourin’ coffee.”

“Stop,” you whispered and closed your eyes, “please..”

Your pleas fizzled and you let him get on, praying it would end. He fucked you harder with each thrust, fueled by your pathetic cries and the sound of him inside of you. He cradled your head as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. His breath singed your skin as he spasmed and spilled inside of you.

When he stopped, you couldn’t move. He pulled out of you with a grunt and his cum dripped from your cunt. You nearly slipped down the hood and barely got your feet under you before you could crumple. You rubbed your fingers through the sticky cum on your thigh and refused to look at him.

“Look at the mess you made of me, honey,” he purred, “the mess I made of you.”

You wiped his cum on your skirt, revolted by the cooling slickness. You pulled your dress straight and left your underwear in the dirt. You glanced at him but he didn’t make a move, only watched you with delight as his hands rested on his open belt.

Numb and unsure, you turned and grabbed up your purse and grease-stained paper bag from the ground. He chuckled and you heard his belt clink. You stumbled through the dirt as he let you go.

“I be seein’ you tomorrow,” he called after you, “I’ll make sure to take a long lunch.”

👮👮👮

Please reblog and like! Let me know what you think.

#dark lee bodecker #lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #dark!lee bodecker #The Devil All The Time #request #drabble #dark fic #dark!fic #fic #dark drabble

[luminnara]

I wonder what Dick would be like trying to flirt on the lead up if the mission, trying to be smooth and cool before screaming next to Weasel. The back track of trying to be cool again after than freak out would be glorious and I would probably fall for it, lol

Dick Hertz x fem!reader

This ended up way longer than intended and I am not mad about that lol

Sfw but raunchy!

Requests for oneshots and HCs are open!

You were no stranger to the concept of the suicide squad.

Thanks to your own colorful past, and powers that you couldn’t always quite control at first, you were stuck serving out a long ass sentence at Belle Reve, the shittiest shit hole of them all. Your only escape from the mundane, high-security monotony was the occasional mission from Waller.

The Suicide Squad—more officially known as Task Force X—was the latest installment in Amanda Waller’s series of highly classified, top secret, black ops teams. She chose Belle Reve’s most infamous criminals, many of whom had extraordinary powers and even more extraordinary reputations, and tossed them together on incredibly dangerous missions. You knew she didn’t care whether you lived or died, but successfully completing such impossible tasks always cut time off your sentence, and with nothing else to do with your time, you always thought it was worth the risk.

And besides...you hadn’t died yet.

So when Waller approached you during your daily yard time, you already knew what to expect.

“Yeah, yeah.” You grumbled as you followed her into the exam room and plopped down in the same old chair. “I know the drill. I go off mission, you blow my brains out.”

“—with the explosive device implanted in the base of your skull. Correct.” Waller said, unimpressed.

“And what, you have to give me a fresh one?” You raised an eyebrow as the doctor made you lean forward. “Lose the button for the last one or something? Or are you afraid that just one won’t do the job?”

Waller looked even less impressed. “I suggest you put a lid on that attitude today.”

“Why?” You winced at the feeling of a thick needle pushing into the back of your neck. “Jesus, fuck! Seriously, how many little bombs do I need in my head?”

“Good luck, puppy.” The doctor sneered as you stood up to follow Waller back out into the corridor.

“This is a black ops mission.” She continued with her usual spiel. “Your commanding officer is Colonel Rick Flag.”

You gasped. “The Colonel Rick Flag?”

She turned to glance at you.

“I have no idea who that is.”

You could hear her sigh in exasperation. “Suit up and go outside to the transport. You’ll meet the rest of the team and fly out to Corto Maltese.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Yeah, the Suicide Squad was a nice distraction from your shitty everyday life...but putting your ass on the line for someone who didn’t give a shit whether you lived or died, and who was always hovering above the button that would splatter your brains all over the wall, wasn’t exactly the greatest feeling in the world.

Waller waited as you ducked into a room to change. There was a black box waiting for you, and upon opening it, you couldn’t help but grin at the sight of your old gear. The dark gray leather suit fit like a glove, and your gun had been cleaned and polished after your last mission, the painfully bright fluorescent lights reflecting off of the barrel with a gleam. You grabbed your gloves and strapped your ammo belts on before buckling a gray carbon fiber mask on.

Wearing your own stuff always lifted your spirits. It was the suit you’d been arrested in a few years ago back in Metropolis, and after seizing it, the feds had been nice enough to give it some upgrades with newer tech. Anything to make you a better government-sanctioned killing machine, you guessed, and it’s not like you were gonna turn it down. After all, killing was how you ended up in Belle Reve in the first place, and it was one of the only things you were good at...it just made sense for Waller to want to put your near-inhuman skills to good use.

You walked out to join her again, lugging a canvas bag of equipment and supplies along behind you.

“Pick that up and carry it correctly.” She snapped as the doors at the end of the hall opened.

“Why don’t you eat my—“

You interrupted yourself by groaning at the bright sunlight as it hit your eyes, raising a hand to shield your face as you managed to spot an armored truck waiting for you.

“You’ll have a lot of new teammates.” Waller called after you. “Be on your best behavior. I’m not responsible for anything they do to you.”

“Probably just a bunch of old farts like always!” You yelled back as you jumped up into the back of the vehicle.

Two guards sat down on either side of you as you got yourself settled in. There was another woman already waiting, her skin orange, her hair in a high ponytail that seemed to be pulled through the top of her helmet. She was regarding you with very little interest, and that was absolutely fine with you. You had a few friends within the Belle Reve prison complex, and you weren’t necessarily looking for more.

The ride was short and uneventful. You passed through a few gates that took forever to open, waited for a few security checks, the usual shit. When the truck came to a halt and you hopped out again, you were at a small airbase hosting a few hangars for planes and helicopters, one of the latter already sitting outside. Guards from Belle Reve were lining the circle of armored vehicles, and as yours joined them and the back doors were opened once more, you grimaced at the bright sunlight.

“Afraid of a little sun?” The orange woman laughed, baring her teeth at you.

“Hurts my eyes,” you mumbled, jumping down after her.

You landed on pavement, looking down at your feet in an attempt to avoid the oncoming headache you knew was imminent. When your shoulder rammed into someone, though, you had to look up anyway.

What you saw wasn’t exactly what you were expecting.

A good looking blond guy was looking down at you, a cocky grin on his face. “Whoa, didn’t realize we were getting a babe this time!”

You glared at him, grateful for the mask covering the lower half of your face.

He couldn’t see you blush that way.

“Little girl’s got some ammo, huh?” He reached for one of the belts strapped across your chest,

Your hand flew up to grab his wrist and you held him in a Vice-like grip, your glare more pointed now. “Touch me, and you can see some of it from behind your eyeballs.”

Blondie whistled lowly, relaxing his arm. “You’re tough, huh? I like that in a girl.”

You dropped his wrist and rolled your eyes. “Still gonna like it when I’m ripping your balls off?”

You could swear he was swooning on his feet. “Baby, you are a goddamn tease...”

“Oy, Dickhead!” An Australian voice rang out, “back off!”

His grin faltered for a moment, obvious disappointment flashing over his face. “Oh. Got a man already. Damn.”

“Who, Boomer?” You grinned, unclipping your mask as you turned to wave at one of your only friends. “Nah, I’d never fuck that wanker.”

“I heard that!” The gold-toothed Aussie yelled.

You let out a loud laugh as you looked back to blondie.

You were caught off guard by the actual, genuine look on his face. He was admiring your smile now that your mask was off, his eyes lingering on your lips for a fraction of a second longer than they should have. He was trying to be smooth, you could tell, and most people wouldn’t have noticed something so slight...but you were an assassin working your way through a couple life sentences, and you weren’t most people.

It all only lasted a moment before the cocky grin was back. “So, after this, you wanna come back to my cell, maybe we could, you know...” he waggled his eyebrows at you, making a hip thrusting motion you almost couldn’t believe a grown criminal was making.

“Maybe focus on not dying first, slim.” You patted his chest before turning towards Boomer, leaving blondie to stare after you—or more precisely, your ass—with a dramatic, longing look.

Your friend was regarding you with an amused expression. “Flirtin’ on the job? Didn’t think you had it in ya.”

“Shut up.” You punched his arm a little too hard and he winced. “Who is that guy, anyway?”

“Dick,” Boomer said, rubbing his arm.

“Don’t call me a dick—“

“No, dumbass, that’s his name. Richard Hertz.”

“...very funny, Boomer, but there’s no fucking way his parents named their kid Dick Hertz.”

Boomer shrugged. “Believe me or don’t, I don’t care. Either way, it’s the truth.”

You scoffed and stole a glance over at your new admirer. He was tall and pretty well built, platinum blond hair short, lips pulled back in a grin that showed off straight white teeth. He was dressed in all black, two guns holstered to his chest, and as he messed with a Belle Reve guard by pretending to reach for one, he looked like an overgrown child who should not have been allowed to hold onto firearms.

“Please tell me he’s got a cooler name,” you groaned.

“Why? So you can scream it at night?” Boomer cackled. “He goes by Blackguard. He’s pretty strong from what I hear. Prolly pretty fun in bed, too.”

You wrinkled your nose and rounded on Boomer. “Shut up.”

“You like him.” Your friend grinned. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. Just remember to name your kid after good ol’ Uncle Boomer.”

You gave him a rough shove and he stumbled back a few steps, laughing like a madman the entire time.

“Hey!” One of the guards barked at you.

Rather than pushing your luck with your armed babysitters, you huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. More cars were pulling up, dropping off the rest of your comrades, and while Boomer was distracted with them, you stole another glance at Dick.

He was still messing with the same guard, and was receiving some harsh warning glares in the process. Was he a complete idiot, or was he so cocky because he could actually handle it? He had to have ended up in Belle Reve for a reason. It wasn’t the type of place you went to for innocent misdemeanors. And if he was chosen for a Suicide Squad mission, that meant that his sentence was long enough to warrant risking his life to lessen it...and it also meant that he was useful.

When he winked at you, you realized with a start that he had totally noticed the way you were checking him out.

Fuck.

“Time to load up!” A voice yelled, saving you from any further embarrassment.

A few minutes later, you were strapping yourself into your seat on the chopper, pretending not to notice as Dick struggled with his seatbelt across from you. The guy sitting next to him had to help, and when you finally couldn’t help yourself, you let out a quiet laugh from behind your mask.

Dick’s head shot up to look at you, that cocky grin plastered to his face again.

“Wish you were over here helpin’ me,” he said bravely. “Rather have your hands down by my—“

“Dick.” Colonel Flag warned as he stood above you all with his gun in his hands.

Boomer let out a loud laugh at the unintentionally dirty euphemism and you snorted.

“What? Just makin’ some conversation,” Blackguard said, leaning towards you with a wolfish glint in his eyes. “You don’t mind, do ya, Princess?”

Your cheeks were heating up behind your mask, and he could see the way your eyes crinkled slightly with your smile.

God, he wished he could see your smile again.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late!” A familiar voice said. “Had to go number two.”

“...Good to know.” Flag sighed as none other than Harley Quinn herself hopped in.

“Harley!” You called, reaching for her with grabby hands as she looked for her seat.

“Hey there, baby!” The pale blonde woman greeted, slamming her equipment bag into Savant’s head. “Hey, Boomer!”

“What’re you doin’ back in prison, Harls?” Boomer asked, hanging onto the nylon mesh cage behind him as he stretched his arms out.

“Got road rage. In a bank.” She finally found a spot between you and Javelin, and as Flag checked everyone over, the chopper took off into the air.

The lighting was dim and red, the thrumming of the helicopter blades blending in with the white noise of the pressurized cabin. Save for that, it was quiet for a while, everybody either sizing each other up, or, in Dick’s case, imagining how you looked under your suit.

“So, uh...how much longer you in for?” He asked you.

You raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because I don’t exactly think I should be talkin’ about sneakin’ into your cell while Flag is here to rat me out about it,” Dick grinned.

You caught the colonel rolling his eyes.

“Hey, that never stopped anybody,” Harley said brightly.

“Boutta be in a whole big ass jungle,” Boomer elbowed you in the side. “Plentya room in there to be alone.”

You groaned as Dick gave you a sly grin.

“Y’know, this mission’ll be over in no time.” He said, stretching his arms out behind his head. “I’ve got some wicked ass powers. I got this.”

“Oh yeah?” You asked, recognizing the way he was trying to peacock and impress you. “Not worried about anything?”

“Baby, I’ll carry this whole team. Just you watch.”

“I’m looking forward to it, Dick.” You bit his name out as more of an insult, but he didn’t seem to care, giving you another wink.

He obviously thought that his flirting and posturing was working...but you were pretty sure he was just annoying. Cute, but annoying. Maybe good for a hook up here or there...but that was about it.

“We’re in a butcher’s freezer, Harls!” Boomer called from the other end of the bench. “Surrounded by dead hogs hangin’ on hooks. Only they don’t know it yet.”

“Leave ‘em alone, Boomer!” She called back with a laugh.

You chuckled at your friends, leaning your head back as you settled in for the flight. Harley was complimenting Javelin’s accent, you still didn’t know what TDK stood for, and Boomer was just starting to mess with him about the fact that all names were made of letters when the freaky weasel-thing next to Dick stole everyone’s attention.

It was one of the strangest creatures you had ever seen. Human height, covered in mangy brown fur, with big bulging eyes and a mouth full of sharp little teeth all made it both fascinating and concerning to look at, and as it made a few disgustingly wet retching sounds, Dick nodded towards it.

“Yo, is this a dog?” He asked.

“...What?” You asked in disbelief. He had to be fucking with you, right? There was no way he meant it.

“Is this thing a dog?” He repeated.

“A...a dog?”

“Yes.”

“What...what kinda dog do you think it is, mate?” Boomer asked.

“I dunno, I’m not familiar with all the breeds.” Dick gave him an incredulous look.

“I’m gonna go with Afghan hound.” TDK said.

“Since when does an afghan hound have bloody thumbs?”

“Oh my god, is it a werewolf?” Harley asked excitedly. “I’ve wanted to meet a werewolf for ever!”

Dick was already up and struggling against his restraints. “Yo, they sat me next to a werewolf?!”

“That’s not right,” TDK agreed as his neighbor slammed into him in his desperate attempt at an escape.

Boomer was laughing loudly, and you couldn’t help but join in. “You’re seriously scared of werewolves?”

Dick glanced up at you as he tried to unbuckle his seatbelt. “Yes, I fuckin’ am! So fuckin’—get me out! I do not fuck with werewolves, there is no fuckin’ way—“

“Maybe you should hop onto your new girlfriend’s lap!” Boomer cackled, jabbing a finger towards you.

“Poor baby,” you cooed, and as you saw the look in Blackguard’s eyes, you were pretty convinced that he was about to try to tear his way out so that he actually could.

“Hey, hey, he’s not a werewolf!” Flag yelled over the commotion. “He’s a weasel, he’s harmless! I mean, he’s not harmless, he’s killed 27 children, but I—I think we got him to—I think he’s agreed to this, so relax.”

“Thought you were super tough?” You asked as Dick calmed down and caught his breath. “Gonna carry the whole team?”

Rather than the snarky flirtation you expected, he actually looked a bit defeated. When you raised an eyebrow, though, he took the prompt, and the most desperate backtracking you had ever seen began.

“Yeah, well...” he scoffed, trying to give you a cool look. “Caught me off guard, that’s all. No big deal.”

“Off guard? Isn’t guard, like, in your name?” You teased, your smile genuine behind your mask. Alright...he was winning you over now. He was an idiot, but...maybe he was a lovable one.

He faltered for a second. “I-I mean, yeah, well...”

Flag was shaking his head. “Get into position to drop!”

Everyone unbuckled themselves and collected their things, lining up to jump into the ocean off the coast of Corto Maltese. When you saw that Dick was back to struggling with it, again, you smiled to yourself and leaned down in front of him.

“For what it’s worth...” you said as you pulled up on the metal tab, your hand dangerously close to his crotch, “I wouldn’t mind shacking up somewhere in the jungle with you.”

He stated at you with wide eyes, disbelief written all over his face. He really was cuter when he wasn’t putting on such a dumb, cocky facade, and he jumped up as quickly as he could to follow you.

You just laughed as you straightened up and walked away, Blackguard right on your heels. As the door opened and the big, dark ocean came into view below you, you felt a hand brushing against your hip and a firm chest press up against your back. You realized you could have stayed right there forever, patiently waiting to see how far he was brave enough to go...but you were both members of the Suicide Squad, and you had a job to do.

“I’ll see you down there, Dick,” you said, turning your head slightly to glance at him.

“See you on the other side, baby,” he grinned.

#dick hertz #dick hertz x reader #richard hertz #Richard hertz x reader #blackguard x reader #blackguard #the suicide squad #the suicide squad x reader

[1-800-gaygentsofshield]

natalia | n.r.

i saw a tiktok about this and idk where it went so here

summary: You and Nat are ex-red room assassins, one day being given an asshole that you needed to interrogate. He's stubborn and gets on your nerves, a certain comment making Natasha cut the session short a bit..violently.

warnings: violence, y/n and nat being a badass assassin power couple, nat being hot, swearing, smoking/cigarette burns

pre avengers? idk you and nat are doing freelance jobs and shield asks you to do your thing

I LIED, THE SMUT WILL BE THE NEXT POST I PROMISE

"Listen, my teammate is going to come in here soon so it's either you talk now or you'll deal with her." Your demeanor is calm and cool despite the rage you felt inside, your hands placed on the table as you look at the man. "gryaznyy amerikanets, ya ne sobirayus' tebya slushat'." He hisses out, spitting on you as your jaw clenches.

Dirty american, i am not going to listen to you.

You wipe his spit off your face and look at your hand with disgust, seeing his smug grin at your reaction. That grin is quickly wiped off his face as you deliver a harsh slap to his cheek, smirking as blood slowly drips from his nose. "YA russkiy ty idiot." I'm russian, you idiot. You say before standing up, hearing the door get unlocked. Natasha steps into the room and gives you a look, sighing as she sees you shake your head.

Shield has had this man captured for almost a week, trying to do their little nice guy shtick before calling you and your girlfriend in to do it properly.

"Vy priveli druga, a?" The man grins cockily and you cross your arms.

You brought a friend, eh?

He whistles at Natasha and jerks his head over in your direction, a sickening look on his face.

"Pora nachat' nastoyashcheye vesel'ye. Ey, ryzhaya, snimi s suki odezhdu." He bites his lip and you can see Natasha's stance change, her shoulders more tense as she looks at the man.

Time for the real fun to start. Hey redhead, take the bitch's clothes off.

When neither of you move his cocky look turns into one of anger, barking out a "Do it!" as he looks at you.

In the blink of an eye Natasha grabs him by the head and forces it back, pulling out her knife from her thigh holster and pressing it up against his throat. "Kak naschet vmesto.." How about instead.. Natasha hisses as she jerks his head back, a whimper coming from his throat as the cool blade presses further into his skin.

"Vy nachinayete govorit' nam to, chto my khotim slyshat', a ya ne budu ispol'zovat' vashu golovu v kachestve misheni. Aga?"

You start telling us what we want to hear, and I wont use your head as target practice. Yeah?

She smirks as he nods his head, making eye contact with you briefly before puling her knife from his throat. Damn you were touching yourself tonight.

----

You silently fill out the file as you sit across from the prisoner, the man spilling his guts after a good amount of violence persuasion. "You don't scare me, you know." The muttered statement breaks through the silence and you glance up from the papers, an eyebrow raised as you look at him. "Excuse me?" You ask and he shakes his head, chucking in amusement. "The only reason I told you anything was because your butch bodyguard was here. You probably can't do shit." He taunts and you laugh breathlessly, looking back down at your papers as your tongue runs along your inner cheek.

"Hey, if you aren't gonna do anything but sit there and look pretty, would you be a doll and light a cigarette for me? It's in my jacket sweetheart." He says after another long period of silence, causing you to sigh and put your papers down. "Fine." You say with a tight lipped smile, grabbing the cigarette from his jacket and lighting it. He grins as you walk over to him, looking up at you and parting his lips. Instead of letting him get a smoke though, you press the lit end up against his cheek, a cry of agony coming from his mouth before you slam his head down onto the table. His head comes back up and you roughly grab the back of it, leaning down so he can hear you loud and clearly. "You've got your cigarette, now shut up before I slam your face again." You spit out, releasing the back of his head with a shove before continuing with your files. You knew Natasha was watching you so you throw a look towards the one way mirror, already imagining your girlfriend bite her lip at the scene.

----

Natasha grabs your hips and roughly presses her front up against your back, both of you standing in front of the camera monitors. "That was hot." She mumbles as she kisses your neck, your eyes fluttering closed as your girlfriend moves her hips up against your ass. "We could take down all of Shield right now." You say your thoughts as Natasha's hot breath hits your throat, feeling your girlfriend give a soft hmm in response. "Do you want to?" Nat asks and you laugh softly, feeling her warm hands run over your suit. "Nah, I feel like they'd be a good organization to have on our side. I was just saying that it would be so easy if we wanted to." You gently kiss her cheek and she nods her head, a small grin on her face as you look at each other. "Since when have you worried about having allies? Last week we almost took down Hydra because they didn't have the chips that you liked." Nat teases and you smile, shrugging as your hands move down to intertwine with hers. "We can't do this forever, Nat. When the time comes we need to pick a side and I'm thinking that Shield is a good option." You say and she nods her head, hips still gently moving against you. "You think they'd let us if we asked?" She asks and you shrug, kissing the back of her hand as you glance up at the monitors. "Probably, because if they didn't they'd have one large enemy against them." You grin and Natasha only chuckles against your neck.

You both stay there for a few more moments before you pull yourself out of her grip, turning to face her as her hands remain on your hips. "Im going to check in with Fury, see if he needs us for anything else." You say and she nods her head, both of you leaning in for a kiss. Instead of connecting your lips though, you gently brush them over one another, a grin forming on your lips as you feel Natasha trying to close that gap. "Fucking tease." She whispers and you only laugh, walking away from the console as you could feel her eyes on you.

----

"Shield is gonna take you from here." You say to the man as you check his restraints, Natasha walking into the room as you do so. "Hey babe, I got you some food. You haven't eaten all day." Natasha says, holding up a bag of food. A smile graces across your face as you walk over to Nat, touching her arm gently as you thank her. "She shouldn't have the calories." The man comments, his voice dripping with disgust as Nat glares at him. "What?" Natasha asks, her tone dangerously calm as she looks at him. "I said she's fa-" The man doesn't get to finish his sentence as Natasha pulls out her gun and shoots him in the chest, her hand recoiling back only a bit as Fury walks in. "Romanoff! What the hell?" He questions as he sees the redhead hold the gun up, the man slumped over in his chair. "He was getting on my nerves." She shrugs before holding the bag up to you, a small smile returning to your face. "It's your favorite." :)

#natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff #marvel #black widow #mcu #natasha romanoff fanfiction #black widow x reader #natasha is hot #smut next time i promise

[jaskierswolf]

Hello lovely! How about Aiden and Jaskier having a very long day? And 27. the hug you didn’t know you needed from the hug list <3<3

This has been written for far too long... but here you go my dear!

_

It was one of those days, the kind where if something could go wrong, it did. His relaxing holiday by the coast had been ruined by a siren nest popping up out of the blue, terrorising the villagers, and the ungrateful bastards had pelted him with rotten tomatoes when he’d sung an amended version of Toss a Coin, artfully removing all mentions of one Geralt of Rivia. Apparently the new and improved version was not exactly what they’d been after.

Oh and of course, two of his lute strings had snapped.

Because why the fuck wouldn’t they snap?

So much for a vacation, he was stuck in a dreary old room at a run down inn, and he couldn’t even play. He had no inspiration for writing and there was very little chance of getting a good fuck for his sins.

He was honestly having the worst day.

Until there was a knock at the door, and naturally he bounded over to open it without even thinking, too used to having Geralt on the other side, but really he should have known better, especially since he’d started working with Dijkstra. Jaskier didn’t think though, and the door flung open to reveal a witcher.

Only instead of snowy white hair, this witcher had long dark hair, black as midnight and just as captivating. His skin was a warm golden brown, making his yellow eyes stand out bright. Instead of two swords on his back, he had holsters strapped around his thighs, a pair of shining daggers barely visible, the jewelled hilts glinting in the candle light.

He was really fucking pretty.

And Jaskier wanted him.

He tried not to think about the last witcher he’d met, that adventure hadn’t exactly ended well. No, this time he would keep his cool, keep it casual, just a friend (hopefully with benefits). Unless the witcher wasn’t here to make nice. Shit. Jaskier stumbled back from the door. After the day he’d had, he had no doubt that this witcher was a bad sign.

The witcher chuckled, rolling his eyes and he crossed his arms across his chest. “I thought you weren’t afraid of witchers, bard, or did Lambert mistake you for another foppish idiot friend of the White Wolf?”

Jaskier could feel the colour drain from his face. “I- ah, well, G-Geralt made quite clear that we’re no longer friends, if we ever were.”

“You look like shit, Jaskier.”

“Oh yeah, well… It's been a day… you?”

“Aiden.”

Jaskier finally felt a small smile creep onto his face, by the gods, he might actually survive this. Maybe his day was looking up… finally. “So, witcher, what brings you to my chambers, nothing good I hope?” Jaskier winked.

“Honestly, darling, you look like you could use some company, a shoulder to cry on, maybe a hug?” Aiden cocked his head, opening his arms in invitation, and Jaskier fell forward, a pitiful cry escaping him.

Strong arms wrapped around him, as he embraced the stranger tightly. Gods, he hadn’t even realised how much he’d needed this until the opportunity had presented itself. He buried his face in Aiden’s neck, a familiar musky scent of leather and hay, but unlike Geralt, Aiden actually seemed to use the scented oils that Jaskier was so fond of, nothing overly floral, sandalwood perhaps.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, tears staining his cheeks.

“Anytime, bard, anytime,” Aiden murmured back, his hands stroking through Jaskier’s hair.

-

Tag list: @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde, @comfyswitcherblanketfort, @fontegagrilledcheese, @dani-dandelino, @dapandapod @damnbert @officerjennie @feraljaskier @geralt-of-riviass @kueble @gilberik @llamasdumpsterfire @wherethewordsare @trickstermoose67 @alllthequeenshorses

#the witcher #jaskier pankratz #aiden #jaskier x aiden #jaskden #wolfie's witcher writing