i got inspired by THIS amazing post đ¤ The room was dim. The only source of light was the soft glow from the streetlights outside, filtering through the moth-eaten curtains. Bruce's hands were gripping Jason's hips, the cheap bed creaking under their shared weight and movements.
Earlier that night, Bruce had been out on patrol, moving across the rooftop with practiced ease. He had spotted Jason below, next to a group of drug dealers bleeding out in the alley.
Bruce had reacted immediately, dropping down without a sound, landing behind him. He couldn't remember the words they had exchanged with each other. It always went the same anyway, stuck in an infinite loop, like a curse.
Jason had thrown the first punch, and soon they had been locked in a dance of violence and bruises.
But the second Jason had ripped his helmet off, revealing his flushed face, unruly hair and dark eyes, Bruce lost the fight.
The rest of the night was a blur after that. They had stumbled into the first hotel they could find, somewhere where no one asked questions. The receptionist had barely glanced up from her phone when they asked for a room, and even if she had, she would be under the impression that Batman was investigating a crime.
And now, here they were. It always ended the same these days. For each time Bruce interacted with Jason, his willpower crumbled more and more.
Jason's Red Hood gear was carelessly scattered across the wooden floor, along with pieces of the Batsuit.
Then Jason leaned in, his lips brushing against Bruce's ear. "Come on, dad..." Bruce froze. His thrusts slowed, until they stopped completely, his body going rigid. The word hung in the air between them, and for a moment, he forgot how to function.
Jason always tested him, pushed his limits, but thisâthis was different. Bruce could feel his smirk against his skin as Jason pressed his mouth to his neck. "What's wrong, dad?" he hummed against his skin, feigning innocence.
Bruce's breath caught in his throat. He felt a flash of heat roll through his body, his arousal stirring inside Jason. The word ricocheted inside his head, over and over. He shouldn't like it. It was wrong. This was wrong. But his body didn't listen to him.
Jason shifted slightly, leaning back against the pillow, looking up at Bruce with sparkling eyes in the dim light.
He let out a low chuckle, the sound sending a vibrating through Bruce. "You like it." His tone sounded triumphant, taunting, like he took great pleasure in finding out how fucked up Bruce was.
Bruce swallowed hard, trying to regain some sense of control, but every rational thought was drowned out by the rush of blood in his ears, the haze in his mind.
He wanted to deny it, but all he could think of was how badly he wanted Jason to say it again. But to his disappointment, Jason remained quiet now, his legs wrapping around Bruce's waist and tightening around him to try and create some friction, silently telling him to move again.
So Bruce did, picking up the pace again, each movement harder than the last. The sound of Jason's teasing voice still on repeat in his mind.
Jason's breath hitched, his hands grabbing Bruce's arms, digging into his skin. His name was spilled from Jason's lips as he moaned softly, but that's not what Bruce wanted to hear, and he was too ashamed to admit it out loud.
Another moan escaped Jason's lips, and it should have been enough. It should have been.
But it wasn't.
Jason had planted a seed and Bruce couldn't think about anything else.
Jason's head tipped further back against the pillow, exposing the sharp line of his sensitive throat. "Bruceâ" He moaned again, his voice breaking as his legs pulled Bruce closer, impossibly deeper. He was doing it on purpose, deliberately withholding the word. Jason couldâmuch to Bruce's dismayâread him like an open book. This was just like another game between them. Jason would push, tease, and taunt, to see how far he could go before Bruce broke. And Bruce, no matter how hard he tried to resist, would always end up playing along, drawn deeper each time, like a moth to a flame.
Jason's hands slid from Bruce's arms to his neck, pulling him down until their lips nearly touched. "Say it," he murmured. "Say you like it."
The words clawed in his throat, refusing to leave him. The pace slowed again, almost coming to a stop.
Jason kissed him. Bruce's blood from his split lip mingled between them, a gift from Jason during their earlier fight.
"I... I like it," Bruce confessed when they broke apart.
Even in the darkness of the room, Bruce could see Jason's smirk, the cocky satisfaction radiating from him. "You like what?"
He was going to make him say it.
"You know what," Bruce muttered, his voice strained. He didn't want to play this game, not when his shame was threatening to consume him.
Jason's fingers tightened around the back of his neck. "Do I?" he teased.
Bruce's heart pounded. The need for Jason to say it was greater than all the other shameful feelings. "I like it when you call me dad," he finally admitted. Jason's smirk widened into a wicked grin, his eyes gleaming with delight. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" His voice then dropped even lower. "Are you going to keep fucking me, dad?" Bruce's entire body tensed, a surge of arousal pulsated through him. Jason's hands trailed down Bruce's back as he whispered the word again, "Dad." The sound of Bruce's voiceâthat wordâwas all it took. Bruce's movements grew desperate, almost erratic, each thrust deeper into Jason, as his soft moans dragged him closer to the edge. "That's it," Jason groaned. "Just like that, dad."
Bruce couldn't hold back any longer. With one last thrust, he reached his climax with an unexpected intensity, his vision going white and blurry from the sensation.
Jason followed shortly after. His body tightened around Bruce as he choked on the word that had destroyed Bruce completely. "Dad."
For a short minute they were both still, breathing heavily. Bruce finally pulled out, before collapsing onto the mattress beside Jason.
Jason laughed, breathless, his white strands clinging to his forehead. "You're sick."
And Bruce silently agreed with him.
completed series-
Do you hate yourself? (hotch centric)
Why do you hate yourself?
Who do you think hates you?
No one hates you except for you
Not everyone hates him
You should hate yourself (Alternative ending)
Chasing Cars (hotch x male oc)
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5
College AU (hotch centric with side couples)
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Epilogue
Winning a Battle, Losing the War (hotch centric)
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Alternative Ending
work in progress-
His Feelings for Him (hotch x morgan)
Part one, Part two
the warnings and summaries are in each fic.
IM GONNA LOSE MY MIND HE'S ALL I DRAW GOD I HAVE BECOME SO CRINGE!! Anyway, Kittji~! (my brain is rotting-) ALSO THE LAST DRAWING IS ONE I MADE IN THE MDDLE OF THE NIGHT WITH MY MOUSE ON PAINT THIS DRAWING HAUNTS ME-
Pt1. // Pt.2 // next
Hood would never want to be verified and would actively hate being verified argue with the wall
hey iâm the a/b/o nonnie from the first two posts about your amazing worksâ¤ď¸ and i gotta say again your virgin!omega!Steve and alpha!Bucky ficlet gave me life! and bc you wrote itâ¤ď¸ itâs probably my fave trope nowđ and if you could do a continuation from that first hot ficletđĽľđĽľđ that would be great!
Hello again! I know this ask is pretty old but itâs been sitting in my drafts and I did want to answer it!
So Iâve mentioned in the past that neither @howdoyousleep3 or I would be writing any continuations of that âverse (if we ever decide to, which I donât think we will) until after we take care of some of our WIPs. However, I have thought about how the rest of that heat might go! (Spoilers: itâs a Trope Bomb just like everything else about this pairing, lol).
It lasts about 3 or 4 days total (shorter than Steveâs usual heats because heâs finally got a partner to sate them), and I think theyâre both disappointed when itâs over.Â
But man, is it something else while itâs happening. Hormonally speaking, that first time they fuck in âTake You With Meâ is obviously really early in Steveâs heat and while itâs definitely wonderful and pleasurable and emotional, I think that it isnât even half of the feral-brained intensity that comes later...
Steve becomes less and less coherent as his heat reaches its peak. It worries Bucky at first because itâs been a long time since heâs been with an omega in heat and heâs never been with Steve when heâs in heat at all, but his most basic alpha instincts tell him that this is okay and that he already knows how to best take care of Steve. So he does.
Steve is sweaty and wet between his thighs pretty much constantly but thereâs nothing Bucky can do about the mess other than carry him into the bath, soak there with him and shampoo his hair and fuck Steve to orgasm underwater with his fingers when Steveâs whines get too needy, whispering into his ear about how perfect he is, how âpretty youâre gonna be with my babies in you, gonna look so sweet.âÂ
He tries one (1) time to change the sheets but Steve all but growls at him, so he doesnât do that after all. They writhe and fuck and sleep in their own scents and come for four days because thatâs what Steve wants, what makes Steve feel right. Itâs perfect.
Sometimes itâs difficult to make sure Steve is getting enough food and hydration but Bucky makes it a priority. He has to bribe Steve sometimes. Steve will wake up from a short nap (he can never sleep for very long before he needs it again) and crawl onto Bucky, try to sit on his cock and ride him and coax another knot out of him but Bucky will have to stop him, keep his hips still and hold his jaw and push their foreheads together and tell him, âyeah, sweetheart, yeah you can have it, know you need it-- but you need to give me somethinâ else too, first, yeah? Will you do that? Will you let me take you into the kitchen and show me how good you are, eat somethinâ for your alpha?â and it takes a good three or four minutes of that kind of sweet talk and sometimes Bucky has to take a cheap shot with âmight be eating for two already, right sugar?â but it always ends in Steve ready to please Bucky how ever he can, even if itâs by eating a grilled cheese sandwich.
Bucky knows heâs going to wait until Steveâs next heat to bite him and bond him but it is sweet torture to keep himself from doing that every time his face is pressed into Steveâs neck while he knots him, while he fills him up. He compromises with himself by sucking and biting stark purple marks into the crook of Steveâs neck and shoulder. It makes Steve just as happy as Bucky to see them there, and even though they donât last long because of the serum Steve is always running back to Bucky a little bit extra distressed whenever he sees them fading in the mirror, and Bucky knows what the problem is every time even though Steve canât always get words out. He gets Steve on his back on the bed and cages him in with his body and shushes him, coos into his ear, tells him heâs âgonna knot you again, mark you up even better this time, make it darker, bigger, make it so everyone knows what I did to my omega.â
He can tell itâs almost over when Steve starts sleeping longer, his scent starting to mellow out a little. He still wakes up whimpering and wanting it, nosing into Buckyâs armpit and seeking out where his scent is strongest, but heâs not as crazy with need when Bucky starts touching him so that means that Bucky can take things more slowly again. Steve doesnât really need opening up anymore-- his wet hole easily giving to Buckyâs cock from his heat and from days of getting fucked-- but Bucky savors the opportunity to finger him anyways. On the last day Steve is calm enough that he can focus on the other things he wants and not just a knot, like getting his mouth around Buckyâs cock again.Â
Right before they fall asleep the final night of the heat Steve convinces Bucky to come in his mouth. Bucky teaches Steve how to tighten his fist around Buckyâs knot he comes and Steve does a perfect job, but Bucky doesnât expect it when Steve purposely pulls off halfway through his orgasm to let the jets of white land all over his face and neck, and Bucky fucking howls at the sight of it.Â
God himself couldnât stop Bucky from pinning Steve to the bed afterwards and rubbing his come into every pore of Steveâs flushed skin.
***
(hope you enjoyed!)
Take You With Me on Ao3
masterlist [x]
What if sex pollen has a very different effect on Bucky's body chemistry: increased libido, yes, but also adrenaline, aggression, jealousy and rage. He wants Steve, and he wants Steve /now/: to claim, to possess, to make Steve his. The urge, the need, is almost more psychological than physical. They literally can't send anyone else who isn't Steve into the room because Bucky might tear them apart. And when Steve finally gets there -- well. Bucky isn't going to let him go for a very long time.
This is so close to an Alpha heat and I am so into it.
And I bet Steve is, too.Â
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Jason: *walks into living room and pauses, looking at tim* uh Tim: *frowns as he looks up from a book* what? Jason: um. Tim: dude. Spit it out. Jason: *still staring* you like that book? Tim: yeah Iâm really loving it! Itâs a new bestseller, Steph recommended it. Itâs a fun fantasy. âS got dragons and the romance is nice and Jane Austen-esque. You should read it, itâs right up your alley. Jason: uh. Okay. Iâll, uh, look into it. And, uh, what about the author? Know anything about them? Tim: *frowns* aside from the fact that thereâs like, no information about them, no Jason: *chuckles nervously* ah, yeah. Haha.
Jason, later to his editor: hey can we change my pseudonym? I wanna use âTodd Peterâ and see how long it takes for my brother to yell at me editor: Jason thatâs not how pseudonyms work
... one of these days, we probably are going to hear about That Ass in France in detail, right? (gigglesnorts at your Bucky Muse)
Hereâs the great thing about the story of The Ass In France:
No one even remembers why it was necessary.
Bucky sure as hell doesnât and least of all because of his time as the Winter Soldier. The Commandos, upon retelling the story, found that they, too, had forgotten why it even had to happen in the first place and so none of their descendants know.
No oneâs ever bothered to look it up, either, because the less said about their mission reports? The better.
The point is, no one knows why the fuck Peggy had to get Steve all dolled up in womenâs clothing and they certainly donât know why halfway through the mission, clothing became synonymous with womenâs lingerie. He lost his dress somewhere along the way and they never found it.
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im obsessed with the difference between the Wayne family and the Kent family. like i can imagine Clark and Bruce working on some kind of case at the watchtower when Kon storms in angrily talking about how Jon wonât stop whining to play games on his phone and itâs really getting on his nerves and Clark needs to go and tell him off bcs he wonât listen to Kon, and Clark sighs before turning to Bruce with an eye-roll like âkids amiright?â and then they hear a far off scream from Dick on the other end of the watchtower thatâs like âBRUCE JASON KEEPS DRESSING UP AS NIGHTWING AND KILLING PEOPLE IN BLUDHAVEN AND NOW IM BEING INVESTIGATED FOR FUCKING MURDER AGAIN!â followed by an evil Jason-like cackle and a crash, and Bruce just grunts and stands up to go investigate with a chuckle, returning Clarkâs look like âoh donât i know it hahaâ as if the two are in any way comparable and Clark isnât staring at him like his whole family is insane