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mrs-steve-harrington · 9 months

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Steve and Dustin Bodyswap!!

I love your brain, anon! Let's see what I can do. Wrote this in one sitting, apologies for any typos! Hope you enjoy <3

(for @julybreakbingo)

Dustin would be the first to say that he's wondered it might be like to be Steve Harrington for a day. To live in a big house on Loch Nora and be the person everyone says hi to when they see him walking down the halls at school. To be popular.

Be careful what you wish for.

It could be worse, but he's been stuck in Steve's body— and Steve has been stuck in his— for days now. There's no denying it's cool. He's gotten a sneak peek into the kinds of things he can expect for high school classes and he's had a blast sinking his teeth into all the books collecting dust in Steve's locker. There's no reason his grades should suffer just because they haven't figured out how to get back to themselves yet.

And nobody picks on him. Tommy and Carol and Billy are loud and obnoxious in their taunting of Steve while Dustin is between classes, but it's clear that Billy has been keeping his distance, too. Doesn't hurt that Dustin can't help but remember what he'd looked like when Max threatened him with Steve's bat and smiles or even outright laughs when Billy tries to act like an asshole.

They're nothing compared to the Troys of the world. He never goes home with so much as a scrape.

But after a few days of being Steve Harrington, Dustin Henderson is missing his own room and his friends and his mom. He hopes whatever is happening to them wears off soon; he'll only be able to act the part for so long before he slips up in some irreparable way. The only reason Steve can get away with acting weird is because, well. Dustin's weird. He knows it and doesn't really care.

Today, though, Steve's got him on a mission that helps to distract him from some of the things he's missing. Mostly because it makes him nervous as hell. Yes he is Steve Harrington right now and yes that does mean that, in theory, he should have no trouble talking to a girl. Flirting with a girl. Steve said that it's as easy as walking up to one and saying, "Hey," because he... has the hair and the face and everything else that Dustin most definitely does not.

Except that right now, he does, and Steve seems to think it will help boost his confidence if he practices while they're swapped. The amount of confidence Steve is placing in him not to completely shatter his reputation is touching and also completely insane.

But he doesn't want to meet up back at his house with Steve after school and have to lie in order to keep from disappointing him. Which means he's going to have to actually approach a girl. And say, "Hey," like it's something he does every day with girls who aren't Max or Eleven.

Dustin is at least eighty percent sure Steve's never had palms as sweaty as they are now. It doesn't help that the last time he approached a girl, she looked at him like he was insane for even considering it. If Nancy hadn't—

Now there's a thought.

A blind person could see that Steve misses her. Dustin still doesn't understand everything that happened— one second they were together, the next they weren't— but Steve's been depressed ever since. Dustin is sure that he can't fix things for Steve, but maybe he can help give his life a little... push... in the right direction.

And maybe Dustin's had a crush on Nancy for as long as he can remember and would like to feel like he's got a chance, even if none of it really means anything.

When he finds her, she's standing at her locker and gathering her things after the last bell of the day. Butterflies line the inside of the door and Dustin grins. It's nice to know the girl who used to dress up and play with them is still in there somewhere, even if she's too cool for them nowadays.

With all the grace that comes to Steve's body naturally, Dustin sidles up next to Nancy's locker and leans against the cold metal of the one beside hers.

"Hey, Nance," he says, grin tampered down to something a little less Dustin. Or he tries to, at least. It's hard not to smile as wide as his lips will move when he looks at Mike's older sister. Not even because she's pretty, but because up until last year she's always been super nice and this year, she saw him sitting alone and near tears and offered to dance with him just to make him feel better.

She even told him that he was her favorite. How can he not smile when he looks at her after that?

"Steve?" Nancy asks, looking up at him in surprise. Her head swivels left and right before landing back in his direction. A crinkle formed between her eyebrows when they scrunch together in confusion. Dustin doesn't blame her; as far as he can tell, Steve's been avoiding even being in the same hall as Nancy if he can help it. "What are... is everything... okay?"

"Great now," he says, feeling more confident than he has any right to. Steve was right, though. There's something so much easier about doing this when you look like, well. Like Steve.

Plus, Dustin knows Nancy. He can't help but feel comfortable around her, even if she doesn't know who she's actually talking to.

"Can I walk you out?" he asks, nodding his head towards the doors. Jonathan won't be around— today's the day he gets Will straight after school, clearly a sign that Dustin chose the right girl to approach. If she says yes, that means Steve has a chance; at least, more than a no would. And if she says no, at least Steve won't be around to hear it.

Nancy looks him up and down slowly, trying to piece together the puzzle that is Steve Harrington standing next to her locker after avoiding her for weeks. But Dustin has known Nancy since he was in Kindergarten. The look in her eyes isn't one he's seen directed at him before, not even when she'd danced with him at the Snow Ball.

She looks at him and suddenly Dustin understands what Steve meant about electricity. He's kind of surprised his the hairs on his arms aren't standing straight up from static cling.

"Sure," she says, softly closing her locker and holding her bag against her side.

They don't get a chance to do more than make small talk because the second they walk out of the doors, Dustin hears his own voice calling Steve's name. He barely even has time to say goodbye when Steve stomps up and grabs his arm to drag him away, making loud excuses about a "project" Steve had promised to help him with right after school, sorry Nancy.

"You're dead meat, Henderson," Steve mutters, looking even more annoyed when he remembers he has to look and point up instead of down.

"I was just doing what you told me to."

Steve stops in his tracks, hands on his hips in a move that's so Steve, Dustin could almost forget he's staring at himself.

"I did not—"

"Nancy's a girl, isn't she?"

Mouth falling open, Steve stares at him for a long few seconds before he throws both hands into the air.

"That is not what I meant and you know it, you little—" he stops himself to take a deep breath. That's good. Dustin's pretty sure he's never seen his face look that red before. It can't be good for either of them.

"Just... let's go home. We'll figure this out later."

"Sure," Dustin says with an easy shrug. He follows Steve, making the familiar walk to his house— because Steve hid the keys to the BMW the first chance he got— and gives Steve the time he needs to calm down.

He'll explain about the electricity later.

#stranger things #dustin henderson #steve harrington #steve and dustin #july break bingo #july break bingo 2023 #my fic #my writing #thanks for the ask!#anonymous

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shield-agent78 · 9 months

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Educational Desire

Parring: Debbie (OC) x Steve Rogers, Debie x Bucky Barnes, Debie x Peter Parker

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1520

Warnings: NSFW, professor/student relations, language, flirtation, alcohol use, light BDSM, foursomes, voyeurism, oral sex (female and male receiving), anal sex, fingering, vaginal sex

Summary: Debbie is a college professor working within the Avenger’s compound. Her classes are usually full of cadets needing to learn another language. However, when Peter, Steve and Bucky decide to take her class, their reasons are far from educational. Can Debbie let down her guard, allowing herself to find the man or men of her dreams? Will the guys make a play for their professor?

Chapter 6 of 6

A/N: Special thanks to my wonderful beta readers and support system @sapientesgladio and @annaofthenorthernlights All characters in this story are over 21.

Created For: @julybreakbingo / heavy breathing/grunting/groaning/grunting/gasping / foreplay @pparkerbingo/ kink discovery I5 @ultimatechrisbingo / that’s America's Ass N4 @anyfandomgoesbingo / title of your sex tape B2

“Have you jerked off today? If not, I want to help you.” Debbie’s new self confidence is extremely sexy. Her words dripped like honey. Her eyes focused upon Steve as to challenge him to make his long anticipated move.

Steve’s smirk tells Deb he finds it irresistible as hell. “No, baby girl, I haven’t. I rather cum in you.” His ocean blue eyes run over her body, sending delightful shivers down to her core.

She takes a step closer to Steve, who is now standing in the middle of the kitchen with a teasing smirk. “You’re a sassy ass.”

“That’s America’s ass, to you.”

“Um, do you realize that sounds like the title to your sex tape.. if you had one, of course.”

“What makes you think I don’t, Doll?” Now it was her turn to blush. She felt the heat reach her cheeks, knowing Steve was getting to her.

Buck leans his back on the bar, sipping his whisky. “You walked right into that one,” he jokes.

“Oh, who asked you anyway?” Deb mutters, trying to gain composure.

Bucky places the tumbler onto the counter. He makes three large strides towards Deb. “You were the one who asked me to judge this little flirting match of yours.” He runs his hungry eyes over her body, his cock twitching in anticipation. “Considering we all have put the moves on you, doll face, I don’t understand why we haven’t got a room and fucked it out yet.”

“With lots of cums from me, baby,” adds Peter from his seat.

Buck re-approaches her again with his play, as his voice drops an octave as he asks, "Are you a morning person or a moaning person? Can we figure it out?" He thumbs Deb’s lower lip, making her blush while her goddess fans herself swooning. Bucky smirks at his success, backing up once more, leaning against the counter.

The guys didn’t play fair. They had her turned on her body, wanting them to take her now. She gains her composure, clearing her throat nervously. “You just might find out, Sergeant Barnes.” Her voice slightly shakes with anticipation. Bucky gives her a wink, adjusting himself with his right hand to relieve the pressure of his growing erection.

Peter bites his bottom lip while undressing Debbie with his eyes. "Are you my homework? Because I wanna slam you on a desk and do you twice because I put my name in the wrong place.” He knows with just one glance he has won her over. “Stupid geography test….”

Oh, God, what had she gotten herself into? Debbie thinks as her inner goddess applauses and pats Deb on the shoulder. Good girl, you got them to prove their points! Now, go get them! “You guys are to the point.”

“Nope, it’s amazing how long we can last,” Steve adds. Deb's mind echoes the previous question, she thought to herself.

Steve and Bucky exchange glances. Buck nods towards Peter. “I’m game. Pete, how about you?”

“Anything Deb wants is perfect with me. Besides, a hottie in my bed is always well-treated.” His lust-filled eyes run over her body. Debbie backs up nervously while her inner goddess is giving a fist pump.

Steve salutes up to her, grabbing hold of her waistband, not letting her back away from him. His lips meld with hers and that’s all it takes for her to melt. Bucky and Pete senses it immediately, stripping quickly. She’s lost in his kiss as he backs her up to the small dinette table. He lifts her effortlessly upon the table and then pulls off her pants.

"I'm buying you skirts from now on," Bucky whispers into Debbie’s ear as his teeth nip at her neck.

Peter hastily unbuttons her blouse and the intimate lacy articles underneath. They are discarded to the floor, allowing him to enjoy a beautiful view. His eagerness slowed as he cups her soft breasts, admiring them. “Fuck, your tits are beautiful, baby.” Debbie gasps as he latches his mouth on the right, giving it the love it deserves as his hand plays with her left nipple.

Debbie’s fingers immediately go to Peter’s hair, tugging it gently, not wanting him to stop. As Peter moans during the act, the reverberations and sound causes the desire to pool in her lower abdomen.

Steve kneels before her. His naughty tongue circles her clit as two fingers dive into her divine wetness. “Fuck baby, all this for us?” Bucky palms his hard cock while his wet tongue dances with Debbie’s.

She tilts her head backwards, a breathy “Ye-yes,” falling from her lips.

“Yes, what?” He demands. His thumb hovering over her sensitive nub, she could feel the heat from him but him not touching her clit caused her to whine.

“Y-es, Captain,” she answers obediently.

“Good girl.” Steve then rubs his thumb in circular motions on her clitoris. Giving the good girl what she deserves.

“Buck mmm — you need to feel how tight her pussy is.”

“You want me to do that, baby girl?” Bucky husks against the shell of her ear, before nipping her lobe.

“Mm yes, Sergeant.”

“Which hand?”

“Left,” she stutters.

“Looks like our girl has a metal arm kink.” He moves to kneel beside Steve, who has removed his fingers, while keeping his hot tongue teasing her roused pearl. Cool metal fingers dive into her warm pussy, causing an excited shudder to radiate through her body. “You’re so wet, Draga.” Buck curls his long fingers, pumping them slowly at first, then faster.

Debbie moans loudly, giving Peter’s tongue the chance to slither in and kiss her deeply.The sensual sounds from her causes his arousal to harden. Eagerly, he swallows each of her moans while he grasps his cock. “Looks like we are finding more kinks,” he states after breaking the kiss.

The overstimulation from the men sends desire coursing through her veins as she comes undone under the special care of her lovers. Bucky maintains eye contact with her, removes his fingers and licks them.

Peter picks Debbie up, carrying her into his bedroom as the others follow. He lays her on the bed like an honored porn star as the three climb onto the mattress. Deb sits up, motioning to the men with a come hither finger, scooting back with a teasing smile.

Peter grabs her ankle, pulling her gently toward the three as she giggles. “Baby, tell us what you want.” Her eyes darken with excitement.

“I want you to fuck my mouth. Steve to fuck my pussy and Bucky to fuck my ass.”

Steve’s eyes darken as he gets comfortable on the bed. He pats his lap pulling Debbie to straddle his waist. She runs her eyes over his girth's length. “All aboard, Sweetheart, it’s all yours.” She leans down to kiss him as her fair falls around his face like a veil. Her pussy welcoming his length as one would a long-lost friend. Steve places his hands upon her waist.

Bucky grabs the lube from the nightstand, running a generous amount over his flesh, fingers pumping them into her ass. Deb whimpers as he replaces them with his cock. Steve begins to thrust upward and Bucky inward.

Peter moves close holding his weeping cock to her lips. Deb licks her lips and then takes him into her moist mouth. “Ohhh fuck,” he curses,as he grasps her hair and tugs it tightly.

Pornographic noises radiate through the small space. Steve helps her ride him with ease. Bucky thrusts into his lover, making sure they are both satisfied. Peter fucks her mouth, hitting the back of her throat. The way her body takes each man has them panting. Steve’s cock presses against her sweet spot while Deb bucks her hips backwards towards Bucky. Her body is close to unbridled passion.

Steve fondles her breasts, moaning while Bucky reaches around to rub her clit. Peter places one hand on her neck, adding a small amount of pressure. One more thrust has her body quaking around her lovers. Steve and Bucky have filled her with their cum, nestled deep inside her. The warm sensation causes Debbie to moan loudly around Peter's cock. He hits the back of her throat, his hot cum coating its prize.

Debbie collapses, her body spent. Steve cuddles her close to his chest as they come down from their highs. Fingertips run gently over her back.

Bucky retrieves a wet cloth for each cleaning Debbie first. She hums gratefully, keeping her eyes closed as the moist fabric grazes her lady parts. He lays down beside Steve resting a hand on Debbie’s ass. Peter lies on the opposite side of Steve beside Debbie, resting his arm around her waist.

“Hi, princess—” Peter brushes her sweaty hair out of her face, kissing her gently on her lips. Steve plants a kiss upon her forehead, as well as Bucky.

“Mmm, hi,” she opens her eyes slightly, gazing upon Peter’s face.

“Rest, we’ll be here when you wake up,” Peter reassures her. Deb smiles softly, her eyes fluttering close. It’s only moments before falling asleep in her lovers arms.

#peter parker smut #bucky barnes smut #steve rogers smut #plural relationships #steve rogers #bucky barnes #peter parker #professor x student #marvel smut #darlin' writes #july break bingo #anyfandomgoesbingo #ultimatechrisbingo #pparkerbingo23

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kinetic-elaboration · 1 month

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March 22: Octavia & Clarke, Cunning/Rough

Octavia & Clarke, Modern AU, from the same 'verse as Make a Lot of Money and Feel Dead Inside

~1350 words, written in about 50 minutes

For the prompt "cunning and its antonyms: simple, ignorant, blunt, rough" from my July Break Bingo 2023 card.

cw for references to sexual assault

They start high school with reputations, all because of a prank they'd pulled the summer before. Clarke called it a revenge plot; Octavia, getting even.

Now everybody knows Clarke to be smart, but dangerous—cunning, the kind of girl who will convince you to let down your guard around her, even when you know better, excavate your secrets and use them against you, sharp and cold beneath a mystifying surface. Octavia, her best friend, her shadow, is the rough-and-tumble sort, a hazard to one's health in a different sort of way. She gets into a scuffle out back of the school at the end of the first week of classes, which cements the whole thing. She's tough, rough, and simple, a girl unafraid of bruises, jutting out her chin to show the raw bleed where the skin's scraped off.

The origin of the legends spools back to the Fourth of July party at Dax's place in the long, hot, humid, languid interim between eighth and ninth grade. Clarke was invited because of her beauty, Octavia on the strength of her older brother's connections and because Clarke was going, and they came packaged together as a set. Octavia still had the tomboy look of her early adolescence, long and rangy and lean, proportions she hadn't yet grown into; half her wardrobe was old hand-me-down's from Bellamy. She thought she looked like something in the right light, thought maybe that might matter, to the right boy. Not many looked at her when Clarke was right next to her, round-faced and blue-eyed; she'd started wearing low-cut shirts that showed her cleavage, sundresses that made Bellamy go protective-chaperone on her if he saw, made his face get all red and embarrassed, and cut off shorts, tan lines from tank tops striping her shoulders.

At the party, all the boys looked at her.

Except for one, who caught Octavia's eye over the top of his Solo cup and didn't let go, didn't blink. Someone was waving around sparklers in the background. The air smelled of cut grass and some distant neighbor's grill smoke, pulsed with bass beats from Dax's stereo.

The boy introduced himself as Atom. They sat around for a while on the back-porch steps, the concrete cold and rough against Octavia's legs and the backs of her thighs, talked bullshit until after a while he was resting his hand on her knee. He didn't mention either Clarke or Bell. She didn't have much to say, too distracted by an awareness of his body heat, an overpowering scent of body spray, his goddamn hand.

They made out for a while in the backseat of Dax's father's car, which was parked in the driveway, so she could see the late-sunset fading through the windows and the twilight building. Through the crack in them she could smell the smoke still, lingering on the humid air, hear the same sort of chirps and buzzing that she'd hear from out in the swamp in her own backyard, back home. Such thoughts distracted her often: how distant she felt from his hands pawing at her. When he touched where she didn't want, she kicked him, weakly, right above the shin because it was where she could reach.

But he was on top of her and didn't seem overly concerned.

That was a spiral moment. She thought of it that way later, that topsy-turvy vertigo that comes from control slipping, the sick-slipping sense that anything could happen, and none of it would be hers.

She got a knee in, scrambled out backwards through the unlocked door, fell right on her ass in the gravel. Scraped up heels of her palms, the cut of a small, sharp rock. He hadn't gotten far, but the damage was the fear itself and it was done.

Telling Clarke about it in the fort, waving her fingers through sifting beams of pale sun that came through the holes in the walls, she kept so calm that her own voice unsettled her. No big deal. But it sucked. Let's send Bellamy after him—maybe he'll kill him.

"He might," Clarke answered seriously. And: "We've got to fix this one ourselves."

Dax was going to be a sophomore. He didn't have a car or a license but he knew how to drive because his cousin had taught him when he was twelve. So yeah, he’d take Clarke out on a ride down some deep-rutted back road until they found a good spot to watch the stars. It was his pleasure. He didn't know any constellations but that was all right. She pointed out a few to him, instead.

The cool thing about Clarke was that she was just shy enough to be cute, in a play-acting way that all guys basically believed, confident enough to let them know what she wanted and how she expected to get it. She wanted to know what he wanted. His daydreams, his fantasies. Her soft voice in his ear, teasing, cajoling—baby, babe—what do you really WANT? The sick-secret stuff. You're safe with me.

Octavia had hiked her way out ahead of them, was crouched in the long grass listening to the sounds of face-sucking and drawing pictures in the dirt with her stub nails, thinking about how great an actress Clarke was—fuck (a deep-forbidden word, still new on her tongue)—fuck, she really knew what she was doing.

And the tape recorder in her purse, next to them on the flatbed, picked up all of it. Confessions you could make a mix CD out of. Stuff he should have known better than to tell anyone—stuff Octavia would never tell if she was him—stuff she’d definitely never tell Clarke, if she was him, Clarke who had already distributed all of her love, or at the very least all of her loyalty, and would never gather up the crumbs of it for him.

After a while, the sounds tapered off. The familiar insect-riot grew louder in its wake. She flicked her gaze across the tall, thin stalks of burned-yellow grass, to the dark interstices, the hint of the rusty blue flatbed on the road. She could see it by its own headlights. The back, where Clarke was, dark as it was quiet.

Then she heard the click of the tape player, scratchy in the July night, like the trigger of a haunting. A sound where it should not be. Her ears were so attuned to it, waiting for it; but afterwards, she could only hear the cadences of Atom's recorded voice, not the content of the whispered, breathy words. She tuned it out to static. All static.

Sharp staccato yelling followed, empty threats and a couple of other new words, sharp-edged profanity she hasn't added to her vocabulary yet, and at last she saw a shadow-figure jump down from truck. She turned on her flashlight, finally, stood and pointed it at him, so he was caught in the beam like a deer. When he tried to rush her, she beat him to it. In her spare hand, she gripped Bellamy's knife with the blade snapped out.

He didn’t know she had it and he'd never approve.

Atom stopped up short, kicking up dust as he slid, halted: a cloud of it in the high beams. Over his shoulder, Octavia could see Clarke's silhouette, standing eerily still and watching them and waiting.

"You're fucking crazy," Atom spat out at her. But she had a knife almost to his throat so there was a tremor to the words, and she found the whole thing, that terrible blood-pounding moment, so wonderfully thrilling, so sharp and real, that she almost laughed like the deranged villain he must have thought that she was. She almost threw the knife away. She almost stabbed him. She almost ran, sprinting, yelling, cackling, like some sort of malevolent spirit in the night.

In the end, she just scared him. And Clarke never replayed the audio. Eventually she even unspools the tape and crushes it beneath her heel. But still their reputations precede them, for the rest of their days stuck in the deep-sucking mud of Arcadia Falls, and in some ways even after, because this is how they know each other and themselves.

#the 100 #clarke griffin #octavia blake #make a lot of money #mine #my writing #the year 2024 #2024: free write #july break bingo

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thetimetraveler24 · 10 months

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Cocoa Puffs and Canoodling

Summary: Kayla and Austin's return to Camp Half-Blood highlights a major oversight on Nico and Will's part. They forgot to tell people about the Cocoa Puffs.

Fandom: Riordanverse, The Sun and the Star

Ship(s): Nico di Angelo/Will Solace

@julybreakbingo

#july break bingo #july break bingo 2023 #Fandom: Riordanverse #Ship: Nico di Angelo x Will Solace #riordanverse #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #nico di angelo #will solace #solangelo #the sun and the star #cocoa puffs

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voiceoffenrisulfr · 3 months

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Wet & (Emotionally) Messy

After a tough mission, James finds Tony's vulnerable side. CW: Mentions of death of a peripheral character, mentions of violent altercation, smut. Mostly just smut. Anal fingering & anal intercourse, M/M oral, dom/sub dynamic, bratty submissive. Prompts fulfilled; - 'Dom Big Dick Bucky Barnes', 'Teasing' and 'Wet & Messy' - Build-a-Bucky Bingo (@buckybarnesevents); - "Don't Say That", "I'll Be Fine" and "Please Let Me In" - @tonystarkbingo (Mark VII); - 'A prepared to take the killing blow for B, but at the last second B takes it for A instead' - Post-@julybreakbingo. (Blackout! Check out the masterlist here!)

Check it out below, or on AO3 here. Boards at the end, Avengers divider from @firefly-in-darkness!

We sat quietly around the table, each poking morosely at our food with disinterest. The morning had been horrendous, and we were all licking our wounds, visibly affected by the absence of Tony from our gathering.

“Has anyone spoken to him?” Natasha asked, her voice uncharacteristically hushed and uncertain. A chorus of negative murmurs rippled around the table in response, and she grimaced, taking another bite of her salad. It was clear nobody wanted to offer – but the arrogant billionaire’s absence was unsettling, and I let out a sigh as I pushed myself back from the table.

“I’m on it.”

“Bucky-”

I waved a hand at Steve, cutting him off gently. “He’s going to be pretty pissed with himself. If he needs to punch something, I’m sure I can irritate him enough to make that happen.” I smiled wryly as my childhood friend hesitated before nodding, lowering his eyes once more, seemingly grateful to have the responsibility taken from him and not eager to fight for it.

“Stark?”

My knuckles rapped gently on the wood, and I paused to listen. There was no response, but my enhanced hearing picked up the distant drip of a shower and hitching breathing.

Oh…

Hesitating, I looked back down the hall, torn between interrupting to offer him comfort and simply walking away. The latter would be easier, but…

The handle turned readily under my metal fingers, the sound of his sobs coming clearer as I entered the lounge. I realised distantly that I’d never been in his quarters as I moved through the space, feeling like an unwanted intruder in a sacred area, footsteps light and nervous.

The bathroom door was ajar, and I approached wearily, wincing at the gasps and sniffles that were audible over the sound of running water. “Tony? Are you okay?” I knocked gently on the door, and earned a loud sniff in response, followed by him clearing his throat.

“Barnes? What the hell are you doing in my room? Get out!” His voice cracked at the end as he snapped, and I heard the sound of him scrabbling, followed by the door quickly slamming in my face, the latch snicking into place immediately after.

“Ton-”

“Fuck off, James.”

I rested my forehead on the wood with a soft sigh, one hand resting against the door. “Tony… Please. Let me in.” I spoke quietly, and his own voice was hushed when he replied.

“It’s all my fault.”

“That’s not true. You did everything you co-”

“I could have taken the shot from that blaster. The suit would have been fine. I would have been fine.” He sniffed again, and I winced sympathetically. “Why would she do that?”

We’d all seen it, watching helplessly as Tony moved in front of a young girl as a bolt of blue light shot toward them, the blast too fast for him to raise his glowing palms in response. He was right – the suit would have absorbed the shot without much more the superficial damage.

But the girl – barely out of teenagehood – had shoved the red-and-gold hero out of the way, his surprise making him stumble as the bolt seared a hole straight through her chest. He caught her before she hit the ground, but it was already too late, and a roar of rage blew through our comms as he fired blast after blast at the offending enemy, tearing them apart without mercy or hesitation.

“I don’t know,” I admitted softly, eyes closing as I recoiled at the memory. “I… I guess she didn’t think you’d survive it.”

“Even if that were true,” he countered, irritation leaking back into his tone, “why would be my life be worth more than hers? Why would she sacrifice herself for me?”

I opened my mouth to reply just as hotly, but then closed it slowly once the reality of his words sunk in. “…You don’t think you’re worth saving… Do you?”

I was met with only silence, my heart hammering nervously in my chest, until he cleared his throat. “I… I don’t think my life is more important than anyone else’s. Nobody should die for me.”

“Tony, you save hundreds, thousands of people regularly – not to mention how much you donate, and the charitable uses for your inventions. I hate to say it – truly – but you might actually have saved more people than any of the rest of us. I don’t think like it’s unreasonable that someone would-”

“I’m not worth it!” he snarled, and I heard him turn in his spot, hand colliding heavily with the wood. “She shouldn’t have died – not for me!”

Blinking in surprise, I drew back from the door, briefly stunned for words. “Don’t… Don’t say that, Tony. What she did sucks, but… She made a choice because she thought you were worth it. Do you want to discredit her memory by saying she was wrong?”

The silence stretched out for a few more moments, before another sniff sounded through the wood, accompanied by the sound of him sliding to the floor. “You can leave,” he monotoned. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Why? Why do you care, Barnes? You don’t like me, I don’t like you. Can’t you just leave me alone?”

Inhaling sharply in a soft huff, I turned my back to the door, also lowering myself to the ground. “… You think I don’t like you?” I inquired quietly, stuck dumb by this revelation. “I like you fine. I just figured you still hated me – understandably - so I tend to stay out of your way.”

“I don’t hate you,” he answered softly, barely audible even to my sensitive hearing.

“You don’t?”

“No, James. I don’t.”

“… Then let me in. Please.”

I waited with bated breath for his response, uncertain and anxious, until I heard him move to his feet and slowly slide the latch on the door.

His face appeared through a narrow crack, blotchy and flushed from crying, and I grimaced sympathetically. “Tony…”

“Just don’t,” he muttered, pushing past me, a towel around his waist and his bare chest still glistening from the shower. “Like I said – I’ll be fine. Just… Leave me alone, Buck. Please.”

I reached out to grasp his wrist, pulling him to a halt. “No. I’m not going to let you sit here and mope by yourself; you’ll probably drink yourself to death in the process. You need to be around the team, Tony.”

He snorted, sitting on the bed, resting on his elbows on his knees. “No, I need to forget about it. You can either help with that, or leave me alone.”

I blinked in surprise as he reached for a bottle of whisky, pouring himself a cut glass half full without looking at me. “… How can I help?”

He paused, his eyes on the amber liquid in the tumbler between his fingers. “I intended to call in some… Services. You can save me the money, if you like.”

With a raised eyebrow, I half-stepped back, stunned to silence for a moment as my mouth went dry. “I… I, uh…”

He flushed minutely, taking a long swig from his drink before responding. “I’m teasing you, Barnes. Calm down. I’m sure I can find a different pretty boy who’s willing to suck my cock.”

I snorted, shaking my head light-heartedly. “I don’t get on my knees for anyone, Stark. I make others kneel.”

… Did he just call me a pretty boy?

His eyebrow twitched, lips pressing together minutely. “I… Am sure that could be arranged.”

Another owlish blink, and my gaze skirted his jawline, the hairpin curve of his lip and the enticing hollow of his throat. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t thought of it – had dreams of those burnt sienna eyes wide and intoxicated as I claimed his mouth, metal fingers possessively tangled in mahogany hair – but it’d never been more than a briefly passing fantasy, something borne in the haze of the half-awake and blood flooding to my arousal as I stirred. “I-”

“Look, I have needs right now, Barnes. You want to help? Fine; that’s how you help. So get your pants off, or get out.”

My throat turned dry, but I took a step forward, then another, my confidence growing as the metres between us passed until his knees were pressed to my legs and my cocky smile reserved for these moments firmly in place. “Was that an order, Stark?” My fingers wrapped around his glass, taking it gently from his hand, and when he didn’t object, my free palm found his chest and pushed him onto his back.

He inhaled sharply as his bare skin met the sheets, his heart pounding to such an extent that it was audible over my own, and I smirked, putting down his drink to undo my belt. “Is this what you want, Stark? A strong man to take control and fuck you until all the thoughts are gone from that pretty little head?”

Swallowing dryly, he nodded faintly, the towel over his lap shifting minutely as his enthusiasm for the situation began to show. I grasped his thighs and jerked him closer, stepping between his legs to lean over him, one hand wrapped lightly around his throat, the other keeping me from crushing him beneath my weight as my lips ghosted over his.

He whimpered softly with desire, and my gentle, teasing resolve snapped.

My grip on his throat tightened, and I crashed my mouth against his, our kiss imbued with whisky and salted by the tears still fading from his skin. His body pressed needily against me, hands coming up to claw at my back and drag up my shirt, but I pinned his wrists over his head with a growl. “Hands to yourself until I tell you otherwise, Stark. You don’t get to touch me, or yourself, until you have my express permission. Do you understand me?”

He whined and nodded again, back arching once more, hard cock pressed into the hollow beneath my hipbone in a desperate attempt for friction. “Yes, Sir…”

I groaned as I kissed him again, shifting back to sit on the bed, moving my eyes to his body still lay prone and panting. “Well? On your knees, boy. I believe I was promised a pretty boy on my cock.”

He scrambled to kneel before me immediately, almost purring with delight as my fingers found his hair lightly, glancing to me for clarification before jerking down my jeans, pressing his lips against the outline straining in my boxers with a happy sigh. My head fell back, eyes closing in pleasure, until he pulled my underwear down, and I felt him still uncertainly. With a grin, I looked down, finding him wide-eyed and dumbstruck. “What’s wrong, pet?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever… I’ve never been with someone so… Well-equipped,” he murmured, hesitantly trailing kisses along my length, still looking somewhat perturbed by the thick cock he’d uncovered. With a smile, I smoothed my palm over his hair, gently soothing.

“Don’t think you can take it?”

He looked up at me as he reached my lightly weeping tip, tongue flicking out to taste the bead of pre-come gathered by his lips. “I’m certainly going to try.”

With a soft moan, I watched in enraptured wonder as his lips parted, slowly taking my head into his mouth with his eyes on mine. He was clearly experienced with this, as much as my cock came as a shock – he took the majority of my length without struggling, swallowing as I entered his throat to take me deeper. Tears of pleasure pricked his eyes when I buried myself inside him, his lips strained around my cock, cheeks hollowed as he sucked at me needily. With a groan, I wrapped a hand in his hair tightly, pressing ever further, shuddering in pleasure as his nose pressed against my skin, the entirety of my length vanishing inside him delightfully. His fingers grasped at my hips, holding me to him, seemingly revelling just as much as I in his capacity for cock, before he shifted slowly, letting the base of my cock drag along his tongue as he drew back, taking in a long, starved breath before burying me inside his throat once more. A loud hiss of ecstasy sounded as my free hand joined the other, holding his head still as I shifted faster, his eyes closing in pleasure.

“That’s it; God, you’re such a good boy, Stark. I never thought you’d suck cock like such a slut – but look at you now, taking every inch like a well-trained whore…” I thrusted a little harder, one hand shifting to grasp his throat lightly, my length nudging against my palm as he swallowed around me. His fingers tightened, nails pricking my skin and spurring me on, lost in his place on his knees and subservient. “Just like that, Tony…”

All too soon, I pulled my cock free of those flushed, perfect lips, tip trailing over his skin and leaving a smear of my essence on his cheek. He whined softly, eyes opening to look up at me, but I simply smirked in response. “Oh, don’t look so worried, sweetheart. I’m not done with you yet… Get on the bed.”

With a brief, startled blink of surprise, he obeyed, moving to settle nervously on the sheets, the towel still wrapped around his waist doing nothing to conceal his arousal. My hand found his jaw, thumb skimming over the smudge of pre-come on his cheek, and I smiled softly. “Do you want this?”

“Yes, Sir,” he whispered, lips parting to take my pad and lick his prize from my skin. “I’m just nervous.”

My grin grew bigger, and I leant in to kiss him gently. “I’ll be careful with you, my poor, fragile creature.”

He nodded and lay back, murmuring under his breath about condoms and lubricant. I explored the bedside table he gestured to, smirking at some of the other things I found nestled amongst ropes and restraints, taking a mental inventory for my absent-minded fantasies. By the time I turned back to him, condom in place and my length dripping lube, he was naked and eager, languidly stroking his cock, hand stuttering when I raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t I tell you to ask permission before you touch yourself?”

His fingers released himself quickly, cheeks flaming. “I-I… I’m sorry. I forgot. It won’t happen again…” He wriggled closer, legs spreading without being told. “Please, Sir. Don’t make me wait… I need you.”

“Roll,” I grunted, waving a hand pointedly. He obliged immediately, the toned curve of his ass making my mouth water, and he shivered in delight as my slick fingers trailed over his hole, hips twitching toward my touch. “My, my, Stark… You’re a truly desperate little whore, aren’t you? I’m surprised you’ve not begged me to fuck you sooner…”

“I didn’t beg now,” he muttered, fingers curling into fists on the sheets, and I chuckled under my breath.

“Even now – your legs spread, ass so eager for my cock – you’re trying to maintain some semblance of that famous Stark pride, are you?” I tutted, enjoying the gasp and quiet moan as I slid one finger patiently inside him. “Or is it arrogance? Either way, I’m sure I can rid you of it easily enough.”

He was rutting back immediately into my touch, clearly unbothered by the single digit, so I pressed another into him quickly, earning another whine, his grip on the sheets tightening as I worked him patiently.

“I don’t b-beg,” he stammered, cheek resting on the sheets as his hips rolled in a desperate attempt to take me deeper.

“Really?” I crooned, adding a third alongside the first two, a guttural groan sounding in response as I curled them inside him.

“I-I- fuck – I’ve never begged… N-not for anyone…” His voice came out as a whimper, ragged breath rasping between his teeth as he trembled, his cock twitching between his legs as he writhed minutely. Humming thoughtfully, I moved my hand even slower, smirking as his head turned to glare at me. “Stop being a dick, Barnes. If you’re going t-to fuck me, just fuck me.”

“Beg.”

He growled in response, eyes flashing, and I smiled innocently, drawing one finger out, the other two working his stretched hole patiently. “How about now?”

“I don’t beg.”

Sighing, I removed a second, and he whined, my single digit barely registering in the loosened ring of muscle. “Are you sure?”

“I. Don’t. Beg.”

I pulled my hand free at last, metal fingers curling around his hip to hold him still as I lined myself up at his entrance and let out another quiet sigh. “That’s disappointing… But I’m sure you’ll suffice.” My tip eased inside him slowly, and he hissed, grasp tightening in the bedding, but growled when I paused.

“I didn’t tell you to stop.”

Laughing under my breath, I began to draw back, the very end of my cock almost slipping free when he whimpered.

“Fine.”

“What was that, pet?” I smiled, leaning closer, halting my retreat as I feigned struggling to hear. “Did you say something?”

He sighed, turning his head to look at me once more where I knelt behind him, holding him tightly. “I… I said fine. I’ll beg.” I let my cock sink in another half-inch, and he shivered with delight.

“I’ll make you a deal,” I murmured, leaning forward to wrap my hand around his throat, jerking him up against my chest and pressing a delicate kiss to his sweat-damp cheek. “The better you beg, the harder I’ll fuck you. So… Beg for it like a good whore, and I’ll fuck you like one.”

I felt his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, nodding shallowly. “P… Please, James. Sir. Please… Fuck me.” My cock shifted minutely deeper, torturously slowly, and I held back a whine of pleasure at the feeling of him stretching around my length. “Oh, f-fuck… God, Ja- Sir, fuck- your cock is so damn big… I need you to fuck me, please… Please, Sir, make me feel good… Stretch me out and pound me into the f-fucking mattress…”

I growled under my breath, fingers tightening on his throat, slowly pressing deeper inside him. “Almost there, boy… Think you can take it all?” He nodded quickly, hips twitching under the fierce vibranium grip, and I sheathed myself smoothly, earning a violent shudder and a groan of delight. “That’s it… You’re so pretty wrapped around my cock, Stark…”

I stayed almost motionless for a moment, my movements almost imperceptible, revelling in the feeling of being entirely buried inside the Great Tony Stark while he trembled and mewled like a common whore. He turned his head to meet my gaze, pupils blown wide with lust, and licked his lips. “Please… Please, Sir… You know what I need. I-I need you. You feel so good, fuck… Please just pound me with your thick cock, James. Make me feel incredible. Make me come and scream your name, please…”

Groaning with resignation, I shoved his chest back to the bed, both hands finding his hips and pulling almost entirely out before slamming back inside him, earning a yelp and gasp and whimper of utter delight, his head jerking in frantic nods. “Yes! Oh God, yes, please, James- fuck me nice and hard, make me yours-”

His words died into desperate yowls and moans as my resolve snapped and I began to work him in earnest, using every inch of my – admittedly impressive – length to make him shiver and writhe in ecstasy. Snarling under my breath, I pulled him back against me in time with my hips snapping forward, watching with satisfaction as the skin of his toned ass began to colour from my strength. His muscles were already tensing, fingers twitching with need, and I dug my nails in lightly as his lips parted once more, lost in the way his body was jerking with each thrust. “Pl- please- James- fuck- I-I need- C-can- Please-”

Smiling absently, I fucked him harder, my words coming barely audible over his desperate, garbled pleas. “Stroke that cock for me, boy. Say my name, and you can come for me.”

It barely took his fingertips brushing his length for him to yowl for me, back arching as his seed soaked the sheets, his voice cracking as he cried out with pleasure. The sound of my name falling willingly from the billionaire’s lips as I showed him a higher power was all it took for me to follow him into the abyss, grunting out my own enjoyment with a few final, rough thrusts, sending him sprawling into his own mess.

Afterwards, Tony collapsed to the sheets, his ass already showing the first signs of bruising, skin slick with sweat and his own essence. He whined softly with each breath, eyes half closed, while I hissed at the snap of the condom against my sensitive length. “Jesus, Stark… You take it well. I’m impressed.”

“Thank you, Sir,” he mumbled agreeably, half-smiling, exhausted and placated. “… Thanks for your help. That… Yeah. Helped.” I laughed, running a fingertip over the fingernail marks still embedded on his hip. “I’m very glad. Feel free to call for me the next time you’re experiencing some… Emotional distress.” My hand found his still-damp hair, tipping his head back gently to skim my lips over his. “I like you wet and messy, Stark. You’re far more palatable when you’re begging.”

He chuckled lazily, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. “’m gonna have to take another shower…” With a soft groan, he slid from the bed, dragging the sheet with him, pausing only minutely as he waved a hand over his shoulder. “… You can stay, if you like. Uh… It… Might be nice not to spend the night alone.”

The bathroom door closed behind him, and I hesitated, looking between the wood and the sheetless bed.

“… FRIDAY?”

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”

“Where are the bedsheets?”

#mine #fanfiction #fandom: marvel #writers on tumblr #writing bingo #rating: e #july break bingo #post july break bingo 2023 #ship: Winteriron #Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Tony Stark #tony stark bingo #build a bucky bingo 2023 #bucky barnes events #cw: smut

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idabbleincrazy · 9 months

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Intrinsic (1/?)

Fandom: Angel (Buffyverse)

Rating: M (for now)

Pairing: Spangel

Word Count: 786

Warnings: snark, body swap, feelings of arousal, humor

Summary: Some things go deeper than the subconscious.

A/N: Written for @julybreakbingo for the prompt 'body swap'. Will be split into parts as I was low on time. Smut in the next part!

“Dammit, Angel, you just had to piss off the Grand Warlock of the Thalegian Order. Told you to leave the translatin’ to me. Now just look at us. God, is that my voice now...and here I thought your brogue was bloody grating on the ears.”

Spike looked down at the body he was currently wearing, scoffed, and looked back over at his own with what he hoped was a scathing glare.

“My voice is fine when I’m speaking English…”, Angel responded poutily.

“I am speaking bloody English! It just sounds so friggin’ poncey in your affected accent. Ugh, why’d you have to make yourself so sodding American?”

“Excuse me? I’m not the only one who sounds completely different from when they were human here! William was an upper class yuppie, not some working class guttersnipe. It’s like My Fair Lady in reverse.”

“Oh, you would go with the poofy musical version of that! Suppose I should be surprised you even knew that reference in the first place.”

Their arguing lasted throughout the elevator ride up to the penthouse, only petering out as Spike threw his now-bulkier body down onto the couch with a groan. He looked over at himself - Angel - where he was fixing them both a glass of whiskey, and felt his body - Angel's body - bloody, fucking, confusing Christ! His body! - tingle with a shiver of arousal that raced down his spine. Well, there's a kicker.

"Look, Wesley said the reversal spell should be ready by tomorrow night. We just have to lay low up here until then; I'm not having you trying to run the firm, and no one'll take me seriously looking like you. The others will take care of things downstairs and make sure word doesn't get out about this mishap."

Spike ignored the dual jibe about his looks and competency as he accepted the tumbler of alcohol.

"Fine, whatever." Looking Angel over, he felt that jolt of arousal again, his slacks tightening uncomfortably. He shifted on the couch, trying to find more room for the cock he felt lengthening between his legs. "Christ, Angel, do you never wank, or are even more of a horny bugger than I remember?"

Angel coughed around the mouthful of whiskey he'd just taken and jerked back away from Spike.

"What?"

"Knew you still wanted me, pet, just didn't know it was this bad. Even with my mind up here, your body's workin' on autopilot."

"Want you?! What the hell are you talking about, Spike?"

Spike schooled his features into what he hoped was the smarmy, knowing look he'd always gotten riled up over when seen on Angel's face, and felt a sense of absurdity as he watched his own jaw clench.

"Can't lie to me now, luv. Your body's reactin' to mine, and I can feel all of it."

"Well, you always were conceited, maybe you're just getting off on the sight of yourself."

Spike dragged his eyes down Angel's lean body, smirking as his gaze rested on his crotch.

"If that's true, then you're as conceited as me, mate. You can be thankful I don't wear briefs, elsewise you'd be feeling like your knackers were being squeezed off right about now."

Angel growled and stood back up, putting space between them and wrapping the duster around him, Spike's own unconscious defense mechanism kicking in.

"Whatever's happening to your body is your own doing, Spike, just like whatever's happening to my body is your own doing. I don't feel that way about you anymore; that was Angelus, not me."

Spike felt a spark of anger flare, followed by the sting of rejection. He might've given up the line of thinking he'd been following, had it not been for the fact that his cock still throbbed even as he glowered at Angel. This body wanted his, he was sure of it.

"Oh, yeah? Prove it."

“How? How the fuck am I supposed to prove to you that it’s nothing to do with my subconscious or feelings when either of our bodies react right now?”

"We'll take a page outta Fred's book and run an experiment. Ain't got nothing but time to kill anyway, and if you're so bloody sure of yourself, you've nothing to lose. Not chicken, are ya?"

Angel sneered at him, and Spike knew he had him.

"Ugh, fine. If it'll get you off my fucking case and knock you down another peg, just tell me what your idea of an experiment is. And, I reserve the right to tell you 'I told you so' for the next goddamn century."

"Oh, I think I'll be the one lordin' it over you till the end of time, pet."

“Let’s just get this over with.”

*****

All Things Spike: @leatafandom

#july break bingo #a:ts fanfic #buffyverse fanfic #spangel #lime

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42donotpanic · 9 months

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To Touch the Star(s)

Fills: Crossover of two fandoms with the same actor - @julybreakbingo Flash Card

Recently, I finally watched Stardust for the first time and (unsurprisingly) crushed on Tristan the whole time.

And anyone who knows my works knows, that I'm obsessed with Matt Murdock.

So, who better to use for this Prompt.

Sadly life and Uni have come between me and this fic, but I still wanted to use it for JBB. And since we talked about Mood boards the other day, I used the opportunity to try it. (I love it, there will me more in the very near future)

So, take this as a little teaser for a story I will be working on as soon as I have a little more time.

#moodboard #teaser #Yvaine #tristan thorn #stardust #daredevil #Matt Murdock x Yvaine #july break bingo #July Break 2023 #matt murdock

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tellmewhatyouc · 9 months

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nobody home // a generation loss fanmix

featuring Poppy, Daft Punk, Watsky, Bo Burnham, Serj Tankian, Ghost, and others

i thought i'd do something different for my @julybreakbingo free space, so here's 40 songs for my current hyperfixation 🎶

content warning: genloss is a horror series, and therefore some of the songs are pretty dark. listen at your own discretion.

> LISTEN HERE <

#generation loss #genloss #fanmix #jbbingo2023 #july break bingo #Fandom: Generation Loss

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baubeautyandthegeek · 10 months

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Photos Of Us

A/N: @julybreakbingo Mini Bingo Begins.

It had been Juliette who found the photo booth. It was Juliette and Calliope who took the first photos together, buying several sets of five before nudging both Margot and Talia into the booth. There, Talia settled awkwardly on Margot’s lap, they had let the photos be taken. Margot and her smile were clear, Talia’s shyness showed and Margot smiled a little at the second round, stroking her hands gently over Talia’s back, the two slowly sinking into one another. Juliette had been the one to gather the photos, then blush and hand Calliope the photos. “Well…. I suppose we have company in the whole… Vampire and the Hunter who won’t kill them… camp.” Calliope murmurs even as Talia and Margot emerge, Margot’s hand sliding slowly into Talia’s own, leading her away.

#first kill #july break bingo 2023 #july break bingo #talia burns #margot fairmont #calliope burns #juliette fairmont #calliope/juliette #talia/margot

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granatkoroleva · 9 months

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𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

Title ⊳ Spellbound

Fandom ⊳ Marvel, The Covenant

Rating ⊳ E

Pairing ⊳ Dark!Witch!Bucky Barnes/Incubus!Chase Collins

Warnings ⊳ None

Word Count ⊳ 2K

Summary ⊳ While foraging through the woods in search of the missing ingredient for a spell, Bucky stumbles upon a strange and mysterious ritual being performed by a group of cloaked figures. As he watches from a distance, the group suddenly disperses, leaving just one person behind - a young man named Chase.

Tags ⊳ Dark Magic AU, Crack Crossover Pairing, Not Canon, Dark Fic, Secret Relationship, Mentions of Dubious Spell craft, Age Difference, Explicit Content

Prompt ⊳ This is for the @pupandkisasaesthetics 𝐀𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 so much love to @rookthorne & @sgt-seabass for hosting such a fun event. My prompt image is a part of the mood board and also below for your viewing pleasure 🖤

𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐇𝐨𝐭 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 @buckybarnesevents - “Free Week ‘S - Secrets”

Also, created for:

@julybreakbingo | Alt: Failing to Tame the Beast & I - 2 Barebacking // Scalding Hot Consent Issues Bingo fill: G - 4 AU - Dark Fantasy // @anyfandomdarkbingo fill: I - 5 Love Potion/Spell @anyfandomgoesbingo O - 1 Outdoors Sex

@sebastianstanbingo fill: N - 3 (free space) Chase Collins

Author's Note ⊳ 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 | Masterlist | AO3

#bucky barnes #pupandkisasaethetics #hotbuckysummer2023 #anyfandomdarkbingo #sebastian stan bingo #smutconnoisseur #anyfandomgoesbingo #fic moodboard #ao3 #chase collins #the covenant #sebastian stan #july break bingo #bucky barnes events

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julybreakbingo · 11 months

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We’re still taking requests to join this year’s July Break Bingo!

Posting starts in July, but don’t wait until then to get your card.

This bingo is highly customizable, with an in-depth form (only if you want it to be) and over 2,500 possible prompts, spanning all fandoms and mediums, and loose rules to make it easier to enjoy.

We have three different kinds of bingo cards you can request and you can request (at least) one of each:

a 5x5 card (with 5 alternates)

a 3x3 card

a flash bingo card that only has 5 squares

Each prompt is completely open to interpretation and if you get a card you’re not happy with, we’re allowing one re-roll per person, per card.

You can opt out of Romance, Whump, NSFW and various other options (including the FREE spot in the middle, if you just want all of them to be prompts), giving you a lot more control over what kind of card you can get.

Sign ups will remain open until July 13th and cards will be sent out in order of requests received.

If you have any further questions not mentioned in the FAQ or on the rule page, please feel free to send an ask here or on the Discord.

#July Break Bingo #July Break Bingo 2023 #Fandom Event #Bingo #Challenge #JBBingo2023 #Mod Post

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mrs-steve-harrington · 9 months

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@julybreakbingo

Prompt:

🎄 Home for the Holidays, Family of Choice 🎄

#stancy #stranger things #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #july break bingo #july break bingo 2023 #mine*

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shield-agent78 · 9 months

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Educational Desire

Tittle: Educational Desire

Parring: Debbie (OC) x Steve Rogers, Debie x Bucky Barnes, Debie x Peter Parker

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 660

Warnings: NSFW, professor/student relations, language, flirtation, alcohol use, light BDSM, foursomes, voyeurism, oral sex (female and male receiving), anal sex, fingering, vaginal sex

Chapter 1 of 6

A/N: Special thanks to my wonderful beta readers and support system @sapientesgladio and @annaofthenorthernlights All characters in this story are over 21.

Created For: @julybreakbingo / fingering @pparkerbingo / free space N3 @ultimatechrisbingo / that’s America's Ass N4 @anyfandomgoesbingo / free space N3

It started with innocent flirting. The simple precise movements they made drove Debbie crazy. Though they didn’t even know they did it, hey a girl could dream, couldn’t she? Come on, how could anyone not daydream about Peter, Bucky, and Steve coming in from working out covered with glistening sweat? The kind that runs down their biceps like melted butter. Or that Peter enrolled in Deb’s advanced language lecture under a pseudonym. Like he needed to take the class, but there he was, perched on the back row riser, with Bucky and Steve by his side. Every time one of the guys smirked in her direction, it caused heat to swell inside her core. Her inner goddess had to pause and fan herself. These guys made it very difficult to stay focused on the class discussion. But somehow she held it together. She was a professional, right?

A knock at Deb’s office door disturbs her daydream, causing the pen she had been tapping to drop from her hand clattering onto the desk. “Screw it.” Her internal goddess shakes her head in disbelief, wondering when Deb was going to gain the courage to make a move. “These men are extremely hot. Make a move, Deb, you know, talk to them about their tests. Then test them in physical ways.”

Wanda leans on the frame, her hair in a high ponytail. “I could hear your thoughts from down the hall.

“Is it that obvious?” Deb questions, standing to retrieve her bag from her hall tree.

She laughs as her bestie glares. Debbie rolls her eyes, causing Wanda to chuckle more. “Yes.” What Wanda doesn’t tell her is that all three men had thought about her in various ways. Wanda watches her best friend thinking if one of you doesn’t make a play soon,glass, it’s going to drive her crazy.

“Whatever, Wans. Right now, I just want to forget about the whole situation.”

“Good, because we’re going to Joe’s.” Wanda takes Deb’s hand, pulling her out of her office with much protest.

“It’s late. I just want to forget about the day,” Debbie whines as the women walk the four blocks to the bar.

Wanda frowns. “It will do you some good to get out and clear your mind. Besides, after a shitty day, we all need a drink and it’s ladies' night. So, no more excuses.” She pulls the door handle of the oak door.

“You're just hoping Loki will be here.”

Wanda laughs, “I’m just hoping I get laid by him, or have his long fingers in my pussy.” Deb rolls her eyes. “What? I have needs and he knows how to supply them.”

For a Monday night, Joe's was remarkably crowded. There’s a line of people at the bar begging to be served. As Debbie and Wanda push their way up to the bar, they catch the eye of Eddie Brock. He runs his hungry gray eyes up and down Deb’s body more than Wanda’s. Eddie's fingers tap on his glass ordering another round. Wanda can sense eyes upon them so turns her head, glaring at Eddie, sending warning daggers with her eyes. However, he gins at her, ignoring the warning.

Josephine flips the rum bottle in her hand, pouring the amber liquid into two tumblers and handing them to the ladies, making small talk as she does so often. Eddie, sensing an opportunity, saunters over to the end of the bar close to the ladies, listening to their conversation. “There’s that guy again. He is giving me the creeps,” Deb whispers in Wanda’s ear.

She nods in response and glances around. “He is harmless enough--for now. Let’s find a bo-” Wanda stops mid-sentence as Loki approaches the two women. He leans his fall lengthy frame down and kisses Wanda below her ear. She gives Deb a pleading glance. So much for girl’s night. Deb gives a knowing smile, watching Wanda take Loki’s hand before disappearing through the crowd.

#pparkerbingo23 #anyfandomgoesbingo #july break bingo #ultimatechrisbingo #marvel #steve rogers #bucky barnes #peter parker #darlin' writes #marvel fanfic #marvel smut #peter parker smut #professor x student #original character

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kinetic-elaboration · 2 months

Text

March 3: Bellarke, Adoration

Bellamy/Clarke, from the same verse as Make a Lot of Money and Feel Dead Inside

For the prompt "adoration" from my July Break Bingo 2023 bingo card

~1360 words, written in about 40 minutes

In the early pre-dawn hours, Clarke stalks through Bellamy's apartment, stealing her fingers across his possessions like a burglar. This is how she will come to learn him again. The small, square rooms are shadowed in soft grays, only the hints of sunbeams filtering through the curtains, dust motes in the widest and strongest of them. The fake-wood floors are smooth and cool beneath her bare feet. She examines the cracks in the spine of the paperback on his coffee table, something science fiction from a library book sale, the call number crossed out on the bottom; she smells the coffee mug left sitting next to it, completely empty, stained on the inside from repeated use. She looks for dust on the flat, shiny leaves of the only plant. She picks up the sweater lying over the back of the sofa, scrunches up the heavy, cabled fabric in her hands, presses it against her face and holds it there.

In the silence all around her, she can hear the tiniest disruptive sounds. The traffic on the street below. The sound of a door closing somewhere in the hall, the click of a lock. If she listens hard enough and holds her breath, she can hear her own heart beating at all of her pulse points. Last night, he kissed them one by one. Her wrists, her neck. He counted each of her ribs. She'd come back to him for this alone, because no one else has ever been so thorough and so patient with her. No one else has ever catalogued every detail of her like Bellamy has, like he's memorizing her, like he's obsessed with her.

She slips on quiet feet into the kitchen. The tile makes her shiver. She's in one of Bellamy's t-shirts and her own underwear from last night that she picked up off the floor, and goosebumps pinch and form down the bare skin of her arms like small pebbles. In the drawer, she counts the knives and the forks and the spoons. Extra plasticware from take-out arranged neatly to the side. Only two mugs and a plate and a fork in the sink, a few more dishes left out drying on the rack. He's become neat. Not that he was ever the worst—but she remembers sneaking into his room in eighth grade, finding piles of laundry on the dull brown carpet and a tower of CDs leaning so precariously, she'd thought she might breathe wrong and send them toppling. A notebook sitting on his desk that might have been math homework or a diary. She'd imagined it was the latter, and if she'd had another moment in the room, she would have opened it. By the time she graduated high school, he was letting her read all his stuff. Those were the days they'd had no secrets from each other.

She leans back against his refrigerator. She's already counted every item inside it. She's imagined him eating strawberries and leftover fried rice and putting creamer in his coffee and she's tried to taste those same tastes on her tongue—what if she could become him? Last night at dinner he'd been quiet and polite, steady like it was a first date and she was someone he wanted to impress. His hair was cut short so, if she didn't know him so well, she wouldn't know that it curled when it grew. He talked about going back to school, asked her questions about the things she'd already told him in their emails back and forth, said on three separate occasions how good it was to see her again. I missed you, I missed you, I missed you.

So polite and formal. The soap in his shower smells like pine, his hand soap like nothing at all. His toothbrush looks new, the bristles on it stiff and barely faded. In his medicine cabinet, ibuprofen and floss. He's responsible. Last night he asked her if she wanted to spend the night before he made any assumptions at all. In high school, he had her hand up her shirt the very first time they kissed.

She'd had a crush on him since the sixth grade. Since she was eleven years old, and he was thirteen. Octavia knew—Clarke told her or she'd guessed, doesn't matter anymore which—maybe it was so obvious that only Bellamy himself could never have figured it out. That was one of the periods where he hung out with them less. Octavia said he was dating a girl in his grade and that had seemed somehow inevitable and impossible both. Bellamy, with a life outside of their friendship; Bellamy falling for someone who wasn't her, when he was supposed to fall for her and be forever with her.

The summer after graduation, he'd driven them all the way out to the next town over, like they were running away, rented a hotel room and told her, You're going to find someone so much better than me. Sounded angry when he said it. He'd been angry often then. Not picking fights but letting her pick them, while he moped around feeling so sorry for himself, and always on a hair trigger—jumpy when she touched him. She asked him if he wanted his jacket back and he said not a fucking chance. He said you're going to be better than all of us and then that he didn't want to talk anymore and then he spent what must have been an hour with his head between her legs.

That's how she remembers it now. Jump cuts and haze and how terrified she had been.

Now he's so upstanding. She's a burnout. And she can't tell him for the same reason he didn't tell her about all of his ancillary jobs back then, cause he had some sort of idea that there existed anything in the world she'd judge him for. Maybe the secrets are where the anger was coming from. By her own logic, she should tell him everything. But he looks at her like she's a goddess.

She catalogues the books on his shelf, the neat stack of notebooks on the bottom one, the photographs in rectangular brown frames on his desk.

If she takes in enough details she'll know him again, she'll know him, she'll take in everything there is to know and she'll have him and he'll always be hers—she'll own him as in blackmail and as in possession and as in true love. What can she do to prove it? Where can she worship? What could she destroy so that he understands her true devotion?

The thoughts, in their circular patterns, drive her mad.

In the small, square bedroom, with its single window and its bed right in the center, and their clothes still scattered on the floor, she pauses for a moment, feeling the way her breath hitches in her throat. Bellamy is sleeping on his back, one of his arms flailed across the mattress, one of his legs bent at the knee. She wets her lips. She stalks closer on her bare feet.

She climbs up over the foot of the bed.

She climbs over him and hovers above his chest.

His freckles are just the same. The ridge of his eyebrows, the shape of his nose and mouth. The delicacy of his eyelids, closed in sleep. No one else has ever understood him like this, and no one else ever could, all the way down to the worst of him—not like her, because she was there. And even if someone could, or if he wanted to trade understanding for calm placidity, for ease—even then, no one else could ever adore him like this. She adores him. She is bound to worship and adoration. She loves all the parts of him he fears and abhors in himself—and she believes of him what he once said of her: you'll be the best of all of us. He already is.

He'd never believe her. Those are the best kept secrets: the ones that would never be believed.

She leans down and kisses the soft spaces beneath his eyes, and waits for him to stir.

#the 100 #bellarke #bellarke fanfiction #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #mine #my writing #the year 2024 #2024: free write #july break bingo #make a lot of money #i'm not completely sure i got what i wanted to from this... like the use of the prompt..but i also dont care #writing's not going well rn so this is what i've got

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