Smalltown Bringdown 1

Smalltown Bringdown 1

Warnings: blood, violence, more to be added.

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

Summary: You live in a smalltown run by a biker club. When your boss gets into debt, you find yourself drawn into the crossfire.

Note: Yesterday I tried writing Sugar, Sugar. That didn’t work out. I had a migraine on Monday that I’m still tiptoeing around. I wrote this a week ago but wanna continue it. Well, if there’s any interest in my doing so. So to those who take the time to read, thank you. Love you guys!

Please, leave some feedback, like and reblog if you can <3

Birch was a small town, named for the line of pale tree at its heart. The streets were built around it. It had stood for centuries like a guardian over residents. Like a harbinger of their eventual fates. White as a ghost, looming like the reaper.

And death lived in Birch. It rode the streets on iron steeds. The apocalyptic horseman roaring down the roads in leather. Oblivion was the bar on the main road.; The Asp was a remnant of the town’s birth. An inn for those who claimed to discover this “new world”. Cleopatra reclined along the sign’s moniker, a snake around her arm, poised to sink its long fangs in her throat. 

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School Boy Crush

Summary: Someone outside of school caught Bakugo’s attention

Wordcount: 1358

“No.” Bakugo slammed his books into his bag, trying to tune out Kaminari’s voice.

 Despite the refusal, Kaminari kept trying, practically begging. “Come on dude, how often do I pass an exam? We need to celebrate!” Last week they’d had a math exam and by some miracle, Bakugo had let Kaminari in on his study session with Kirishima. Even more amazing, today he had found out that he wasn’t dead last or had to retake it.

 The miracles seem to end there though, as Bakugo stood up from his desk and began to walk out of the classroom. “Fuck off Dunce Face. I got better things to do.”

 Kirishima, who had been watching the whole time, stepped up beside his dejected friend to whisper in his ear, “Watch this.” 

 The redhead placed an arm around Kaminari’s shoulders and they started walking in the opposite direction of the dorms. Kirishima spoke out loudly with a smug smile. “Don’t worry Kami, we can have fun without him. I know this great restaurant that serves some awesome American food.”

 Still smiling, Kirishima held up three fingers as they walked away, counting down till…“Oi, wait shit heads!” Bakugo stormed past them, practically running down the hall.

 Kaminari blinked in amazement. “What just happened?”

 “Oh, you’ll see.”

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Puppers

Summary: Werewolf Bakugo moves to the city and has a neighbor who really likes dogs.

Wordcount: 3061

Okay, he didn’t plan for this to happen.

It’s not like he’d made the conscious decision to expose himself to you; he just kind of… did. He wasn’t used to living in the city yet and had just wanted to feel the night air in his fur. If he hadn’t had to work early in the morning, he would have gone to the woods. He didn’t even think of checking to make sure no one was on the balcony next to his. Bakugo just opened the back door of his apartment, took off his clothes, and stepped out onto the patio in wolf form.

You on your balcony, watering your plants, was not what he had been hoping for. Bakugo flinched at the sound of a watering can clattering to the floor. “Uh…” You stood there, blinking, as Bakugofroze.He did the first thing that came to mind, and that was to pretend to be a dog. 

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New Dark!fic Idea: Tinder!AU

If anyone’s been on Tinder, I’m sure y'all have stumbled across those occasional couples looking for a third partner.

You came across their account at random. Bucky and Steve: two men looking to add a third into their life. Never before had you considered a polyamorous relationship, but seeing the two extremely handsome men from their profile stirred your body with fantasies and arousal.

You swiped right, only curious to see if you would match, but shockingly you do match with them only a few days later.

They were joking, right? Two godly gorgeous men thinking you were attractive enough to swipe right?

You couldn’t believe it.

They messaged you first, and you were initially skeptical. Sometimes you would be texting Bucky and other times it would be Steve. You had gotten to know them real well, spending a few late nights on your phone as the three of you continued to learn more about each other.

They asked to meet you.

A casual dinner date. They suggested a public restaurant, and you were happy enough with that option, knowing too well yourself the dangers of meeting people online in their own homes.

But the dinner date went magically. Bucky and Steve welcomed you with warm smiles and gentle hugs. They were nothing less of gentlemen as Steve pulled your chair and Bucky held your hand. You were a complete babbling mess, head spinning and a hand covering your face as the men impressed you more and more. You all discussed the things in your ongoing lives, and you asked more about Steve and Bucky’s current relationship, and what they were looking for with a relationship with another.

“Oh.” Bucky tilted his head and scratched the back of his neck, the blush tinting his face red, “Well Steve and I had talked about it for awhile, and we just thought it was appropriate to have someone else in our relationship give us the thing that’s missing between us.”

“Missing?” You raised a brow.

“What Bucky means to say is that,” Steve gently held his hand over his partner’s before grabbing yours from across the table, “we want to have a baby.”

Your eyes popped open.

Oh… They weren’t just trying to fuck you. They were trying to knock you up.

“You know most people use Tinder for hook-ups, right? Have you two considered a surrogate?”

They both chuckled at you as though you told a joke.

“We’re not looking for a surrogate, but no worries sweetie. We aren’t going to force you if that’s what you’re uncomfortable with,” Steve said as he patted your hand. “Being with you is all we want for now.”

They seemed to be trying so hard–actually interested in having a long-lasting relationship with you. And you knew you shouldn’t have taken their offer to drive you home, but they were just so kind, how could you decline?

You trusted them.

They dropped you off and walked you to your door. Bucky took the initiative and kissed you goodbye, and you melted against his hot lips and touch. Steve was too bashful to do the same, but you pecked his cheek and hugged him anyway.

The two men walked back to their car after you closed the door. Bucky sat in the passenger’s seat while Steve walked around over to the driver’s side. Bucky hissed, his hands holding his hair back while Steve finally entered the car.

“She’s the one Steve. Fuck! That’s our baby girl.” The brunet let go of his hair, hissing the words through his teeth as his fists rested against his thighs. “I can’t wait like this anymore. We have to go back and get her. I don’t want her out here like this—”

“Hey Buck, calm down.” Steve turned and held his shoulder. “It’s alright. We’ll have our baby soon. We just can’t rush this too fast.”

“As long as it’s with her,” Bucky sighed.

Steve smiled before turning on the car ignition.

“Don’t worry. She’s the one.”

- - - - -

This is just an idea and not an actual drabble or fic teaser. Though I will probably save this fic idea for a rainy day–way into the future when I get my other fic obligations done. Not sure what route to go with this though: forced relationship and breeding kink or forced age regression and dd/lg kink. Where do y’all wanna see this going?

*quickly rereads duck and cover because HO YEAH BABY OUR MEDIC IS BACK*

         #DUCKANDCOVER:  you get the hell out of birmingham, headed to london for some much needed leave. on the ride, your love for humphrey bogart and boys from brooklyn are discussed. 

pairing: medic!reader x wwii!buckyword count: 692, a drabblerating: t, swearing and desc. of disastera/n: enjoy some tension + flirting.

                                                AO3    ✚    MASTERLIST

You’re glad to get the hell away from the burning of Birmingham. 

As the transport rolls away, you’re left to swipe at your eyes still stinging with soot and ash from three consecutive nights of bombings. You’d listened to the locals whisper about the Blitz that had come to pass a year ago, huddled close in the darkness of the shelters left as the world came down around you.

They spoke of the bombings like a gnarly, mighty beastie crawling back out from under the bed, here to terrorize the city. 

Maybe it was for the children’s sake.

You can’t help but feel like Lot’s wife; looking back at the wreckage sours something in your gut, paints you all types of angry. Instead of turning to a pillar of salt, you turn back around to worry your hands and breathe out.

The spring sun is hot on your back and the breeze feels nice and it reminds you of home. If you close your eyes and ignore the garish sound of the transmission and the sweet smell of cinders, you could be home – on your back porch with your kid sister playing cards.

You’re quickly jostled out of that daydream, shoulder to shoulder with the Howling Commandos, as the truck bounces down to London.

You’re all in various states of disarray and squalor. 

Bucky, across from you, mimics your sigh. His face is caked in inky soot – it makes him look meaner than he is, painting the sharp contours of his cheeks and leaving bright blue eyes to emote. It bolsters his reputation of being the hard-ass, being the cold one. 

The shell that had blown out the butcher’s shop leveled the first floor; luckily, for the residents cowering in that basement cellar turned meat-locker, everything had been fine. 

Fine was a relative term, he supposes. 

After Bastogne, Bucky reasoned you could walk through hell unshaken. He himself had been slow to rise, coughing and weeping and clawing through the leveled remains of the shop with the other men – the night air had been so calm after the pass of the bombings. 

Jim’s reading a paper, hunched over beside you and making a pained sound. The ranger slaps the page, scoffing. “You believe this shit, doll? Your man’s gettin’ married.”

You blink, leaning over. In an immediate display of interest, you snatch the paper and instantly pull a face, lips pulled in disbelief as your squint at the column. “Oh, Christ, not Humphrey Bogart – no wonder he never replied t’ my letters…”

The truck riles themselves up into laughter as you groan, throwing your hands. 

“T’ who?” calls out Dum Dum, “Susan Hayward?”

You squint, scanning the page. Instantly, your posture drops. “Lauren Bacall.”

Bucky smothers a laugh across from you, amused by the antics. “She’s a real looker. She’s Romanian, y’know.”

“Oh, c’mon,” you call, eyeing Bucky, who’s grinning back at you, “I’m prettier than Lauren Bacall, right? Right? Whatever – guess I’m never gettin’ married now. My heart’s broken.”

That stirs laugh out of the boys.

Falsworth eyes you, lip twitching. “Y’ got a boy back home, dear?”

“Me?” you have to laugh, dry and twisted, “No, god no.”

Bucky deflates in relief. His brow quirks. “Why y’ say it like that?”

There’s something behind his words, something full of promise – you wonder if you’re just wishing; hopeful thinking never got anyone anywhere.

There’s a lot of eyes on you now and you squirm, lips pulled into a devilishly proud look; you have the boys wrapped around your finger, Buck out of them all the most – you can see how he hangs on your every word. You wonder if this is what Rita Hayworth feels like, to be marveled at so openly. 

It’s endearing.

“I dunno,” you say, eyes glued to his, tossing a shrug, “Never found the right one, I guess. Maybe I shoulda looked in Brooklyn.”

There’s a chorus of whoops and Bucky laughs – you toe his boot with yours in good humor and wish you didn’t mean that. But you do. 

He wishes you really did.

If only he knew.

Beautiful and Damned 8- The Snow Storm [Geralt of Rivia x Reader]

A.N: My darlings, your amazing feedback makes me so happy, thank you! Please don’t forget to tell me what you think of this chapter, kisses!

Reminder: This story will not follow the show’s plot, so even if you haven’t watched the series, you can still read it.

The previous chapters are on my masterlist!

Summary: There are things softer than silk.

Word Count: 3177

Warnings: Mentions of violence and death, poverty.

You couldn’t exactly feel it through your gloves, but it looked as if Geralt’s venom induced fever had gone down when the beams of the sun started spilling into the room. His skin wasn’t glistening anymore, and the roots of his white hair which were drenched with sweat before looked dry. You stretched out, making a face as your back cracked, reminding you of your uncomfortable position on the chair throughout the night, and you grabbed the sheets to pull it over him but the minute you made a move he opened with eyes with a gasp, then groaned.

“Hey,” you tried to smile as you dropped the sheets over his body, “I thought you might be cold.”

He blinked a couple of times, as if trying to focus on you, “Princess?”

“Welcome back.”

“What are you-?” he tried to sit up as you rushed to stop him,

“Wait- Geralt, lie down.”

“I’m fine.”

“A giant spider attacked you!”

“Yeah an arachnomorph.”

“Yeah, whatever it is!” you said, “Ciri is fine, so is Jaskier if that’s what you want to check. You’re still hurt, you should stay put.”

“I’m fine,” he repeated and attempted to get off, but you put your hands on his shoulder, stopping him,

“Geralt, please,” you said gently, “For my sake.”

That seemed to do the trick, because he stopped dead in his tracks, looking up at you as you retrieved your hands.

“I’ll call the healer here,” you told him, then walked to the door to open it before telling the guard at the door to bring the healer here.

“How do you feel?” you asked him, as you closed the door again, “Do you need anything? Water?”

He nodded slowly and you grabbed the glass, filled it with water and handed it to him.

“Were you here the whole night?” he asked after taking a huge sip and you stole a look at him, then nodded.

“I thought that arac- aracmor-“

“Arachnomorph.”

“Yeah, that,” you said, “That it would kill you. Roach brought you back here.”

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