#but my knuckles are huge compared to my fingers so sizing....is an issue

[opluffys]

Even-

new year, worse me. posted first to my archive, luffys, as always. let me know if it copied weird or if there are errors. pls enjoy <3 :)

tags- accidental voyeurism, size kink, mutual masturbation, reader is insanely horny for ghost, fem reader.

3.2k words.

-Ghost x Reader-

-smut/nsfw-

Suddenly remembering that you had a burning question to ask Gaz, you turned to the men's quarters. Thinking to see him still snoring in bed whilst most of the others were in the mess hall.

Oh, how wrong you had been.

Not only was Gaz nowhere to be found, but you had seen as well as heard something that you most definitely shouldn't have.

Donning that infamous balaclava decorated as a skull, his head tilted back as he fucking groaned deliciously deep. Huge and gloved hand wrapped around his thick and heavy cock, giving it a quick squeeze while lightly pumping himself. He bucked his hips and muttered something when his thumb stroked and pressed against a prominent and sensitive vein alongside his impressive length.

Subconsciously, your thighs had squeezed together, feeling your core flutter. And then, you had remembered that you were practically spying on your higher up in such a private and intimate moment. As quietly as you had entered, you slipped out of the men's barracks, your mind numb and scrambled. Totally forgetting what you had to ask Gaz about anyway.

•

Over the last few days, you had completely avoided encountering anyone from 141, which is actually easier said than done. Especially when being the medics assistant, which meant that you'd pretty much be seeing them after any mission.

Including right now.

Normally, you'd shadow the doctor in your particular sector. But he eventually wanted you to take over for him, so he forced you to take charge for the last week. Typically, that wouldn't have been an issue at all, since you were trained both in the field and in medicine, but when you were so close to the man you had seen pleasuring himself... It's a little hard to focus.

"So, lieutenant... How was your mission..?" You asked, attempting to make your voice sound like you weren't just thinking about him wrecking you with-

"Considering I'm not in a coma, pretty good." He sighed, not at all wincing nor flinching when you closed up his deep gash. You noted how he didn't say dead, he was cocky, arrogant. Rightfully so, though.

You internally criticised who had done a makeshift tourniquet on Ghost's arm, not doing the best job, but enough not to have harsh consequences. Wiping over the neat line of sutures once more, you hummed contently seeing as the intense swelling around the wound has gone down considerably.

"Well, I'm glad you aren't hurt too badly, sir." You smiled underneath the surgical mask, your eyes enough to show that you had truly meant such a sentiment. Your true desire to make sure others are healthy pushing through that sense of perversion.

"You and me both."

•

In the dead of night, you tossed and turned in your bunk. The sweltering heat not the only cause of this, but the throbbing between your legs also a contributory factor.

Figuring nobody was awake, your skilled fingers dipped beneath your waistband and past your panties, practically shoving your fingers deep into your soft and wet hole. You bit back a moan, burying your face into your pillow and imagining it was that immovable wall of a man called Ghost.

You curled your digits inside your fleshy walls, desperately wanting it to be the thicker and more calloused hand of Ghost knuckle deep inside you. Your cunt pathetically spasmed over nothing, your fingers not enough, no, not even close. Especially compared to his hand, his fucking cock, you nearly screamed in desire of just thinking about it once again.

You wondered if he was rough, no, you knew the answer to that. He'd absolutely manhandle you in bed and you wouldn't fucking have it any other way. You knew he'd have your pretty pussy stretched over his hard length, questioning if it'd fit, but knowing that he'd make it fit. Hoping that you could replace that gloved hand of his and give him a handjob that would have him bucking his hips into your hand.

Just thinking of such scenarios made you whimper, your walls clamping down on your fingers as your body shook lightly, your slick making a mess on your thighs.

Fuck.

•

More days had passed by, and they were rather uneventful as your hand was starting to be futile. You knew 141 was returning from a mission today, thanks to your doctor alerting you to be in the med-bay to assist him with those who had been injured. By assist him, he meant that you do everything. As usual.

Thankfully, nobody was too hurt. Save for Gaz resting on a cot in your office, claiming it was, 'better than the shitty mattress in the mens quarters'. He wasn't injured too bad, but you ordered him to get more rest than he typically would.

You wouldn't mind if it was just Gaz, or even Soap. But fucking Ghost had been appearing in 'your' office more than he had ever, and it seemed you were the only one to notice such a thing.

Soap had been decent enough to engage in small talk with you while you would clean as well as inspect his wounds. But Ghost? You'd just be stared at the entire time whenever he would stop by. You wouldn't really care if it had been literally anyone else, but it had to be the man you'd envision fucking you braindead daily.

"So nice to see that you're still in one piece, Soap." You teased, taking a seat in front of said man. "No thanks to your shit stitches." He countered, offering you his bicep, seeming to be the only place that held a laceration. You rolled your eyes, "Oh please, like that old bastard could sew you up half as good." You heard him scoff at this, your gloved hand holding his strong arm still as you wiped his wound clean with alcohol.

"I hope that burns," You laughed, meeting his annoyed gaze. You took the sterilised needle and thread and pierced his skin, carefully watching for any discomfort on his end. Of course, there was none, as he watched your handiwork intently.

Finishing closing his lesion and wiping it clean, you unwound the roll of gauze tape and wrapped it around his bicep tightly. Pulling it taut just to see him wince as you shot him a sly smile. "Alright, I don't want any excessive exercise, at least to do with that arm," you pointed at his damaged bicep, "I don't want to see you in here with that wound open. Hell, it'd be great if I didn't have to see you in here at all." You laughed, seeing him feign offence at your remark.

The two of you engaged in some more friendly banter, so much so that you had forgotten that he had showed with Ghost. He had just laughed and laid back to relax in his cot, finding your frenzied state to be absolutely hilarious.

"Sorry about that, sir." You hadn't had the courage to engage in eye contact with the man, but you knew he had been staring at you. God, you had envisioned being pinned under him to that stare, that gloved hand of his cutting off your steady air flow as he slammed into you. Gazing into you without missing a beat, his hips against yours, his deep accented voice whispering the most vile things- and fuck, your thighs involuntarily squeezed together, attempting to keep your arousal at bay (ultimately failing miserably).

For fucks sake, you were on the damn job.

Sitting across from Ghost and changing your gloves, you craned your head to meet his cold stare, making you feel uneasy, body disproving such a thought as you felt your core blossom with arousal.

Wordlessly, he moved his fatigues to just shy of showing his pectoral muscles, slightly turning to his side to show a nasty gash on his side, hovering just below his ribs. You questioned how he stood patiently, observing you treat Soap while he had bleed into his uniform. But honestly, you have never seen him in pain, even when he'd show up to you or the doctor you shadowed with some horrific injuries.

•

Pulling your surgical mask down and sighing in pure exhaustion, you were amazed that you were still able to stand, considering that you'd been on your feet all day. Running back and forth to help those who were on the brink of death, to rejuvenate them and push these men and women back on the field.

You groaned, stumbling back onto the empty cot as you laid on your side. Your eyes felt heavy, dark circles running underside the fragile skin, attesting to how tired you were. Maybe Gaz was onto something, because damn, these cots were comfortable. Either that, or these bunks were just shit.

You found yourself to be completely alone in the med-bay, which is quite the rarity in itself. Plus, you knew that you wouldn't be seeing anymore patients, since you were positive everyone was asleep. And at first, your thoughts were to join them, and rest your heavy lids to get some much needed shuteye, but this horny streak of yours was getting out of hand, plaguing your everyday thoughts and actions.

You bit back a whimper as you thought to the other day of treating Ghost, your gloved hand flat against his muscles, he was warmer than you had thought. Your eyes fluttered shut as you snuck past the waistband of your scrubs, pushing your soaked panties to the side as your fingers ghosted against your slippery folds. A muted moan left your painted lips, your back arching slightly as you plunged your fingers deep inside-

"This is what you do in your free time,"

No, fuck, this isn't happening.

Your eyes shot open as you sat up as fast as you could, ejecting your fingers from your dripping cunt. Pitifully attempting to frame yourself as you hadn't been doing anything. You had been too embarrassed to say anything in return, just gawking at the very man you had just been fantasising.

"Shit, lieutenant, I'm so-"

"Quiet." He came closer to your shrivelling figure, his fatigues abandoned as he wore a more casual outfit.

"I didn't know that-"

"I said quiet, didn't I?" He was right in front of you now, his leather clad hand reaching for your face, tilting your chin to look at him.

You couldn't hold eye contact, but he forced you to, squeezing your cheeks until you looked back into his piercing gaze. He broke his stare, looking at your hand instead. Ghost let go of your face and instead grabbed your wrist harshly, your hand going limp as his grip was harsh. In the dim lights of the room, the both of you could see the shine of your slick coat your fingers, and you wished that your libido wasn't driven up the wall.

"Fuckin' filthy." He rasped, letting go of your hand, his stare returning to your wide and doe-like eyes.

"I guess we're even now, aren't we?" You looked at him with a puzzled expression, and then it hit you.

He knew.

He fucking knew that you had seen him fucking into his hand somewhat desperately, and he had to have known that it had absolutely ruined you these last few days.

"I guess so." You sighed, a newfound courage finding way into your muddied brain. You stood from the cot, looking up at Ghost. "But I could show you something much better than your hand, sir."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Little whore."

You nearly came undone at that lone comment then and there. Normally, if any man had dared to say such a thing remotely similar to what had come from his mouth, you'd slap them and walk away. But damn it all, you'd subject yourself to the worst comments just for him, just for him to use you like a fuck-doll.

You sat back onto the cot, spreading your legs just barely enough so that he noticed, his eyes returning on you once again. You slipped out of your scrub bottoms, your own eyes glued to his as you had returned to pleasing yourself, acting as if your boss hadn't been in the same room as you.

"Mm, fuck, Ghost." You whined, your fingers suddenly halted from your ministrations. "Who said that you could touch yourself? You haven't earned it, slut." You almost purred at his degrading words, your insides clenching on nothing, oh so desperately hoping for something, for him.

Sitting across from you, your eyes settled on his clear erection, not at all surprised at his size, considering that you'd seen it already. But to be up close nearly had you drooling, wanting to be seated on him and bounced with fervour.

You moved closer to him as your hands slowly moved towards him, not stopping you, you had motioned to remove his cock from his sweatpants, awaiting to be woken up from this dream.

Pulling the soft material down slowly, before the throbbing of your clit had you feeling impatient, you swiftly pulled his sweats down just enough so his cock sprang out and bumped against his abs. You looked at him once more to ensure he was fine with it, but for once, he wasn't looking at you, and that's when you knew he was gone.

Your hand looked fucking tiny when wrapped around his length, pumping slowly and occasionally swiping his slit that leaked precum giddily. He was so thick and warm, so big. You squeezed gently, and that had him grunt lowly, his usual demeanour starting to crumble. You went at a rather slow pace on purpose, trying to see just how patient this man was.

When you had pressed against a noticeable vein and traced it to his shaft, he let out another deep groan that had your panties beyond soaked. You were slowly mapping out his sensitive spots, holding his large cock in your smaller hand and pumping him at a quicker pace. You hadn't even noticed his own larger hand forcing your thighs apart and brushing against your clothed clit, forcing a whimper from you.

He easily moved your panties aside, shoving his fingers deep inside of you while you had continued to stroke his cock, your other hand making itself useful and assisting yourself with the task at hand.

He pulled you into his lap, your now bare cunt dangerously close to his dick. Your body just wanting to sink down on him and chase your own high.

You leaned closer to him, using his wide frame as something to rest on. You whimpered lowly as he curled his fingers within your contracting heat, his other hand groping at the curve of your ass.

You continued to stroke his cock, your hand going faster without you even realising it, your thoughts clouded by the massive digits that were ruining your insides. Something that you had been yearning for, and oh, it was so much better than what you could've imagined it to be.

"I'm so close," You whined, grinding your hips against his open palm, your slick making a mess on Ghost. He slapped your ass in response, the stinging sensation making you hug him closer to you as you absentmindedly stopped pleasuring him, lost in your own quite selfishly.

Without a single word, he moved you above his length and pushed in, your eyes meeting his steel gaze as your back arched, a high pitched moan dying in your throat. He forced you down, inch by agonising inch, splitting you open, the stretch painful but so fucking good.

Finally feeling him bottom out inside of you, he barely had you speared atop him for a second before he set a brutal pace, moving you up and down like you weighed nothing. You moaned and babbled out to him, your thoughts melting into nothing as you heard his own low and deep sounds, causing you to squeeze him tightly inside of you.

"Couldn't even treat me without thinking of me fucking you, huh?" He groaned in your ear, his large hand slapping your rear again.

You had truly forgotten how keen this man was, of course he had noticed your filthy thoughts and how the impacted your body. Your plush thighs squeezing together pitifully as you thought of this very moment.

"Mmhm..." You moaned, your gummy walls squeezing his girth. You were able to feel every single vein drag against your velvety insides, getting you intoxicated off of his dick alone.

"Can't even form a single sentence," He grunted, giving your ass another rough smack as you moaned in response, your hands clawing at his broad back, feeling his muscles twitch in response to the slight sting you inflicted on him.

"Fucked you dumb, look at you, you're a fuckin' mess." You nodded dumbly, your hips meeting his own thrusts as you bounced on top of him, his cock shoved deep inside of you, pushing against your cervix as you were stuffed to the absolute brim. Your eyes screwed shut as you cried out his name, never in your life would you have thought you'd be moaning 'Ghost'. But the man was undoubtably the best fuck you ever had.

You whimpered as you felt his cock drag against that spot inside of you that made you see searing stars. Your toes curled as your arms wrapped around Ghost's massive frame, cunt clamping down on his length tightly as you bit back a scream, that knot inside of you finally unraveling as you hit your high, your slick coating his cock and his as well as your thighs.

He assisted you in riding out your high, bouncing you on him at a quicker pace, the embarrassing sound of your greedy pussy sucking him back in flooding the room. Your overshot nerves protesting as your pants had turned into whines, begging him to slow down, or to be more gentle.

How laughable.

"You aren't exactly in a position to make demands, love." He said, his voice low as his big hand groped and pinched the fleshy and soft skin of your ass. You moaned in response, losing the capability to form sentences long ago. Ghost continued to glide you over his thick and heavy cock, your cunt fluttering over his length sheathed inside of you.

You felt him twitch inside of you as you squeezed him tightly, your pants mixed with his groans filled the room. "Mm, you feel so fucking good, lieutenant.." You cried, struggling to ride him properly, thankful for his assistance.

You continued to mumble praises to him in a fake and saccharine tone, attempting to edge him with his orgasm. He groaned as he hurriedly pulled out of you, stroking himself to finish as he grunted deeply, ropes of his warm cum making a mess all over your exhausted body.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, small whimpers leaving you as his breathing was slightly uneven. His broad chest rising and falling quickly as you both basked in your respective orgasms.

You were the first to move, grabbing a clean towel from the material cabinet and cleaning yourself with it. You tossed a clean one to Ghost, who had caught it without looking.

"I didn't know you were such a slut."

"I could say the same to you, sir."

#ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #cod smut #ghost cod #cod x reader #cod mwii #fanfic #smut #cod mw2

[burberrybaby]

tasamum - تسمم

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pairing: bucky barnes x woc!reader

summary: you wake up from a nightmare hoping for a drink, but bucky gives you a different form of intoxication.

warnings: SMUT, a little fluff (bucky taking care of the reader,) knives (reader has one in her room,) alcohol mention, oral (f receiving,) fingering, dom/sub dynamics, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, praise, minors DNI!

a/n: my first official smut! english is not my first language, so if there are any errors, please let me know. any type of feedback would be lovely and, as always, reblogs are appreciated. not my gif.

word count: 2.5k

masterlist

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You scream as you sit up in bed, throwing the covers off you and immediately pulling the small dagger out from under your pillow, holding it up in a defensive stance. It takes a second for you to realize you’re in no danger as you drop your weapon and hold your head in your hands, catching your breath. You woke up after another one of your nightmares; remaining memories of people you’ve killed in your past still haunt your dreams.

Instead of going back to bed, you decide to head to the kitchen to grab a quick glass of water. The compound was quiet and dark, very unlike how it usually is in the daytime. Once you finish your drink, you hear a raspy voice near the sitting area, “Y/N?”

It wasn’t bright enough for you to see who said your name, but the deep, thick voice could’ve only belonged to the one and only Bucky Barnes.

“Bucky?” you switch on the light and move towards him, setting your glass on the counter. He wore dark pants and a black buttoned-down shirt that was undone completely, exposing his gorgeous toned chest and abs. Your breath hitches in your throat as you watch him look you up and down. Compared to him, you were hardly dressed; a baggy Thrasher T-shirt that barely covered your ass and black lace panties.

“Nightmares?” he asks and you nod, looking away. “Come here, doll.” Your gaze slowly turns to meet his and you see him holding his hand out to you, offering his lap to you. A feeble attempt on your part to hide your shock rewards you with a small smirk from Bucky as you slowly make your way to him.

You try your best to pull your shirt down as you sit in his lap, and you blush as you feel the muscles in his thighs under you. Bucky wraps his arms around you and you lean your head against his shoulder. He rests his chin softly on the top of your head and he sighs. You can smell the scent of some sort of drink on his breath, “are you drunk?”

“No,” he chuckles softly, “alcohol doesn’t do much for me, unfortunately.”

“Oh, right.” you snuggle yourself into him, willing to let your vulnerabilities show in front of this man; suddenly feeling small and soft in his arms.

“Would it be bad if I was drunk?”

You pause, “I just- I have trust issues.”

“So you trust me?”

“Maybe,” you smile softly.

He tightens his vibranium arm around you and slowly lowers one hand down to rub small circles into your bare thigh, causing your breath the hitch.

“Do you wanna talk about the nightmare?”

You tilt your head to look at him, “No, not really... have any alcohol left though?”

“Sorry, doll, but I already finished the bottle,” Bucky looks at you curiously, “but there are other ways to make your night better.”

Your face flushes immediately to a deep shade of red as you stare at him blankly, “W-what do you mean by that?”

“I mean,” Bucky slowly moves his touch from your outer thigh closer between your legs, and pauses to look at you, “there's a different form of intoxication I can give you.”

Swallowing thickly, you look down at how close his hand is to your heat, and you’d be a fool to think this man didn’t feel it. It was almost embarrassing how badly you wanted him in you right now, but you hadn’t been with someone romantically in the longest time. Compared to the man whose lap you were currently perched upon... what would he think of you?

“If that’s not what you want, I get it-“

You cut him off, “I do! I just uhm..”

“We can take it as slow as you want.”

After a deep breath, you nod, “Okay.”

It only takes a second for Bucky to adjust you to straddle his lap, and before you can even register it, his shirt is off. You can see the sudden hunger in his eyes before he moves his lips to yours, and you easily melt into his touch. Bucky places his hands back on your thighs and massages slightly.

Your tongues move in union, both of you exploring each other’s mouths. One of your hands moves to cup his face and the other rests on his bare shoulder. Bucky pulls away after a bit with a tug to your bottom lip and moves his kisses to your jawline. A quiet moan escapes your lips, and you can feel his smile against your skin. He moves his way down to your neck, only needing a second to find that sweet spot on your skin that he knew would drive you crazy. If this man didn’t feel the heat and dampness from your core and panties, he certainly did now.

All the while, you’re pressing yourself against his covered length, yearning for more than just kisses. It doesn’t take long for his cock to harden against your clothed cunt; you were sexually infatuated with each other.

You tilt your head back to give him more space to pleasure you as he pleases, and you were already at his mercy. Leaving a few nips on your neck and now moving to your collarbone, Bucky drinks up all the soft whimpers and moans you give him. Later, when he pulls away, an unintentional whimper falls from your lips.

Without moving your gazes away from each other, you feel his rough, calloused hands move from your thighs to the hem of your shirt; at this point, it had ridden up to your waist, “May I?”

You give him a small nod and he slowly lifts the baggy T off your body, laying it next to his own discarded top. You shiver as the sudden cold perks your nipples up, and he moves his hands up to cup your breasts, massaging them and attaching his lips back onto your collarbone. He murmurs, “If you want me to stop just say it.”

“I know,” you whisper and squeeze your eyes shut as you grind against him. Your act rewards you with a deep growl from deep from Bucky’s throat as his lips move down to your left nipple. He twirls his tongue skillfully around the nub and rolls your other nipple between his fingers.

“W-want more,” your voice is almost inaudible and your eyes squeeze together from the pleasure he gives you.

Bucky slowly pulls away and looks up to meet your gaze, his pale blue eyes now darkened with lust. “Yeah?”

Your nod is almost pitiful as he lays you down on the couch, his large figure overpowering you even before his cock is in you. Bucky leaves kisses down your chest and stomach, red marks that will surely bruise by morning. His breath is hot against your skin as he pauses at the waistband of your panties.

He looks up at you through his lashes, asking permission to remove the final piece of your clothing. You nod again, “please,” and after that one word, he wastes no time pulling the black lace off with his teeth, discarding it on the floor.

Bucky takes a moment to admire your body before he makes his next move, “you’re beautiful, you know that, doll?” He brings your legs up, leaving hickey after hickey on your inner thighs, slowly moving closer to your aching core. He touches his finger to your bare cunt and reaches his hand to his mouth to lick the wetness and makes eye contact with you. You swallow again, hard, and whimper, begging desperately for more.

He slings your legs over his shoulders and brings his face to your dripping center, licking a long stripe from your entrance to your clit. Your body shudders and radiates in hot pleasure as his lips attach to your clit and he carefully slips one metal finger into you, looking up to see your mouth drop open. You reach one hand down to tangle it in his dark hair as your back starts to arch.

Not wasting any more time than necessary, Bucky slips a second finger into your pussy and begins to scissor you open, making enough space for a third metal finger. He curls his knuckles and all the while swirling his tongue around your most sensitive parts. It doesn’t matter that this is the first time he’s eaten you out, he knew exactly what you wanted, and did not hold back in providing.

A sheen of sweat has acclimated over your skin, and your back is arched highly from the couch, the edge of which you’re now gripping so hard your knuckles have paled. Your thighs are shaking from being held apart by Bucky’s large hands and your head lolls to the side as you murmur, “I-I’m gonna-“

You aren’t even given the chance to finish your sentence as you hit your climax. Your body is plunged into a deep euphoria; whether that orgasm could be described as heavenly or sinful, you weren’t sure, but it didn’t matter; was the best feeling you’ve had in the longest time.

Bucky pulls away after drinking up all your come and watches how you slowly open your eyes, panting, “Th-that was amazing.” Instead of responding, he leans down to give you a kiss, letting you taste yourself on his lips and causing you to moan quietly.

“You are amazing.”

All you can do is let your mouth drop open and feel even more heat rising to your face as Bucky stands, unbuttoning his pants and slipping them off, along with his boxers. Your mouth practically waters at the sight of his hard cock, pressing up against his stomach; and it was huge. How he’s managed his composure for this long, you had no clue.

Bucky strokes his cock a few times and smirks at your peaked arousal, adjusting himself back on top of you, “Ready?”

You nod and he runs his length along your folds first, then gently presses himself into you. Even though he already stretched you out, it still took a bit for your body to adjust to Bucky’s size. Once he’s fully inside you, he presses his hand softly to your stomach, and chuckles softly, “Doll, look how deep I am.”

The realization of how you felt him in your stomach had come earlier, but now looking down and seeing that bulge made you desperate. Your hips buck up unintentionally, causing Bucky to moan quietly and begin to thrust into you.

You could tell he was holding back, keeping himself from pounding into you immediately, and you appreciated that. Maybe he could sense your inexperience and wanted to help you take it slow. Or maybe he was just scared of hurting you, but nonetheless, it felt amazing.

His mouth attaches to your neck again, and Bucky’s hand moves up to roll your nipple between his fingers. You allow your hands to roam his chest, biceps, and back as your head lolls back, moans falling from your lips easily.

He refrains from speeding up his pace; instead, his thrusts are slower, but stronger, hitting you deeper, his tip dragging along your G spot. Your back arches again off the couch, and your nails start to drag along his back.

His lips move to your ear, and he nibbles your earlobe teasingly. Bucky’s low voice now in the shell of your ear, “you’re taking me so well, baby, I’m so proud of you.” Your body shivers at that, and you want to say more, but the only words that fall from your lips are, “M-more, pl-lease.”

“Asking like a good girl, hm? I’ll give you more.” so he brings his hand down to your sensitive clit, rubbing in circles with his thumb, and you can’t help but bite down on his collarbone to keep yourself from crying in the pleasure. Bucky winces and chuckles again, “marking me up, I see? Don’t worry, I’ll wear the bruises proudly.”

Your whimper is muffled against his skin and this time, without warning you come around him, your essence dripping onto both of your thighs. Once again, you’re engulfed in hot, sticky pleasure as Bucky helps you ride out your orgasm.

Panting you mumble, “Y-you can go faster i-if you need.” He pauses a second to look at you, making sure he heard you right, then he pushes your knees into your chest and takes your calves in his hands. After adjusting his position, Bucky gradually speeds up, his head tilting back in pleasure as his lips part.

Looking down to watch him, and seeing your breasts being shoved back and forth from the new speed makes you wish for a third release. You bite your lip and grip the edge of the couch tightly, trying to keep yourself grounded.

You snake one hand down to rub your clit when Bucky looks back down at you. The sight of your body; the same sight you had relished in moments before, driving him closer to his own release. So now he grunts, “Cum with me, doll.”

And of course, you happily oblige, kneading your tit with one hand and the other rubbing your clit faster as you come a third time. Your channel tightening again against his cock drives him insane, and a deep moan comes from Bucky’s throat. He comes with you, heavily coating your walls and panting as he finishes and looking down to admire how he’s made you fall apart under him.

You meet his gaze and you laugh, “that really just happened, huh?” He laughs with you, “yeah, it did.”

Your legs are shaking as he pulls out and heads to the kitchen to get a damp cloth to clean you both up. He cleans very carefully around your thighs and helps you sit up to clean underneath. Your eyes widen as you see the forming stain underneath you, but Bucky doesn’t seem to mind, “this couch is officially ours.”

Smiling warmly at each other, Bucky picks you up and takes you back to his room, wrapping his arms around you tightly. your head is resting on his chest, and your arm loosely wrapped around his torso.

“How do you feel now?” he hums.

You tilt your head up to look at him, “way better than before.”

Bucky smiles down at you, “that’s good, doll. You should get some rest, I plan on ravishing you again in the morning.

Chewing on your lip, you pull the blanket around your shoulders and look away.

So his smile turns to a worried frown, “Is something wrong? We don’t have to do it again if you don’t want to.”

“No, no I want to,” you pause, “it’s just… the nightmares again…”

“Hey,” Bucky lifts your chin so you can look at him, “as long as I’ve got you here in my arms, I promise you’ll be safe, doll. I get nightmares too, but now I’ve got you to hold!”

You smile and leave a lingering kiss on his lips before resting your head again, letting your eyes flutter shut, “good night, Buck.”

He kisses your forehead, “good night, Y/N.”

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mutuals:

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[screpdoodle]

Duality - Chapter Ten (The Grumbletown)

Kaos struggled to fully unfold the gigantic map in the cramped space he and Glumshanks were holed up in. The two sat crouched at a low, wooden table. It looked to be homemade, with knobbly legs and indented sides. A lone lamp was strung from the slanted mud ceiling, wooden cross beams seeming to be the only thing keeping it up. Even Kaos felt slightly cramped as he wrestled with the huge slab of crumpled parchment, twice the size of the table he sat at, if not more. The sound of crackling fire, rambunctious trolls and electronic music outside was muffled by the poorly fortified clay walls, flecks of dirt falling down from the ceiling with every thump of the beat. Kaos’ attention wandered as he watched stout silhouettes run past the clouded windows, followed by a loud CRASH as one of them came catapulting through the glass, rolling across the floor before coming to a stop, beady eyes spinning in their sockets. The troll shook their head, locked eyes with Kaos, then scuttled out of the room through the unlocked front door, leaving it open behind them. Kaos huffed, then slid off of his stool, peering out into the chaotic street. Trolls of all shapes and sizes looked to be having the time of their lives; some were sprawled out across barrels (the ones they weren’t smashing at least), enjoying bottles of ‘soda’ and other treats Kaos didn’t quite recognize. Others were chasing each other around the winding dirt paths, or chasing what Kaos assumed to be the previous residents of the commandeered village - Rats. Kaos didn’t mean that as an insult, no, they looked like literal rats, with matted grey fur, long snouts and worm like tails. Judging by the architecture, the assumption seemed to track. Kaos pulled his head back in as someone threw a cart of wrinkled produce against the wall, the wooden cart splintering and fruits splattering into a multicolored mess of foul smelling slop. Kaos slammed the door shut, looking back to Glumshanks, who had managed to tame the wild map.

“What in Skylands are they even doing out there?” Kaos asked, brushing a few hanging roots out of his way as he walked back to Glumshanks’ side.

“Christening.” Glumshanks answered plainly, sighing. “They do this every time. Make a mess of the place to show ‘dominance’... or something. ‘Cause running out an entire settlement doesn’t do that already, I suppose.”

Kaos frowned, then looked down at the map, trying to pick out any details he might recognize now that he could more easily look over it. But the more he looked, the less he seemed to recognize. Noted landmarks and island formations he had first thought were possible leads were nothing but red herrings. How had he gotten himself so lost?

“If this one doesn’t work, I should have a few others.”

“No no, I’m sure this one is fine. I can’t have gone that far from home.” Kaos waved Glumshanks off, squinting at the map. He tapped one of the sepia-toned islands, frowning. “This is where we are, right?”

“Uhh, I think it’s here actually.”

“Troll. I’m pretty sure I know the location of a place I’ve never been on a map in a language I don’t know.”

“...please tell me that was sarcasm.”

Kaos just looked up, a deadpan expression on his face, before looking back down without another word. He scanned the map once more, mumbling incoherent words under his breath. This wasn’t right. Kaos winced, rubbing his temples as he felt a throbbing pain start creeping its way in, followed by the feeling of a damp rag pressed against his forehead. Kaos opened one eye, looking up as he watched Glumshanks gently dabbing the dried blood away, a concerned look on his green face.

“What do you think you’re doing, troll.”

“Cleaning the wound?” He phrased it more like a question, rather than a clean cut statement.

Kaos furrowed his brow, but didn’t object, simply squirming in his seat as Glumshanks began inspecting the small, albeit quite bloody, cut in his forehead. It didn’t quite hurt, but the sensation wasn’t all that nice either.

“...Maybe if we go back you can find the route you took?”

“That’s just the issue, troll.” Kaos slouched in his seat, resting his chin in his hand and elbow on the table. “I didn’t take a route. One minute I was in my backyard, the next I was here. I remember falling, but that’s about it.”

“Maybe you fell off the edge?”

“Impossible. I was nowhere near the…” Kaos trailed off, then sat forward with a start, the gears turning in his mind. “Glumshanks, are there any islands above this one?”

“A few, but-”

Before Glumshanks could finish his sentence, the sound of splintering wood cut through the muffled ruckus of outside, the sounds flooding in as the two looked over to see the door hanging off of its hinges, a clearly intoxicated Thropp staggering his way inside. Kaos instinctively got up off of his chair, taking a step back. Glumshanks just sighed, looking down.

“So, this is the-” a small hiccup interrupted Thropp’s sentence, “the boghole mama sent you to claim? Man, and I thought the other ones were bad. At least they had real walls.”

Thropp trailed his massive fingers across the clay wall, scraping a good amount of dirt off with his yellowing fingernail. He let out another hiccup before finally setting his beady eyes upon his brother, a tipsy smirk twisted across his face. He lumbered forward, paying no mind as his bare feet stepped over the shards of broken glass that lay across the ground, towering over Glumshanks. He hadn’t seemed to have noticed Kaos quite yet, despite him being right there.

“It was the best one I could find.” Glumshanks mumbled, trying to muster up an air of confidence, albeit to no avail. “You know how hectic it can get. Especially since you tend to be one of the ones causing most of it…”

Glumshanks’ voice grew quieter at the last part. Thropp’s ears twitched, but he didn’t seem to register it. At least not enough to care.

“You better hope there’s enough room in here, or you’ll be sleeping in the ‘doghouse’ again.” Thropp sneered.

If Kaos had thought his breath smelled bad before, it was nothing compared to the stench now. Sour and sickly sweet, like decay. Kaos couldn’t help but cover his nose, the smell all too familiar to him. At this movement though, Thropp’s eyes darted over to the small human, finally noticing him standing there at Glumshanks’ side. It took Thropp a moment to recognize him, the two merely standing there, locked in an unofficial staring contest.

“What. The hell. Are you doing here.” Thropp seemed to sober up almost immediately, his voice taking on a deadly tone.

“Well, cleeaarly ruining your ‘school project’ just wasn’t enough for me, so I had to hunt you down and ruin your homelife too.” Kaos explained, sarcasm dripping from every word he spoke.

“Kaos, I’m not sure if now is a good time to-”

“I knew we should have dealt with you on that- hic- that stupid ship!” Thropp raised his voice, raising his hands up. “At least I have a chance to fix that mistake now!”

Before Kaos knew what was happening, Thropp slammed his fists down, Glumshanks grabbing the small human out of the way at the last second. Kaos squeaked, his heart pounding in his ears. Thropp barely took a second to collect himself, his glare burning holes in Glumshanks’ skull.

“You dingweed!” He spat, slurring his words. “You two talked like, what, once?? And you’re already head over heels for this twerp! You wouldn’t believe how much he yammered on about you, human!!”

Kaos blinked, opened his mouth to ask what exactly Glumshanks had talked about, but before he could even get a word out Thropp threw a right hook at the two of them. Kaos ducked, pulling Glumshanks down with him. Thropp's fist slammed into the side of the staircase, the entire house practically shaking, bits of clay and dirt raining down. Kaos scuttled out of Thropp's line of sight as he quickly shook off the pain of his bloodied knuckles, shouting something Kaos assumed was in trolltongue. Glumshanks quickly scrambled to his feet, dragging Kaos up with him, practically carrying him to the door before his brother could come barreling after them. The two ran out into the night air, the pathways lit by smoldering embers, the trolls outside too busy partying to notice the scene that had unfolded. All but a few, at least. Glumshanks looked up from trying to catch his breath as a large troll came towards them, heavy feet thundering down the crowded street, three smaller trolls in tow. Three smaller trolls Kaos recognized almost immediately; the three lackeys Thropp had dragged along on the ship, the three ‘other brothers’. Which meant the one in the middle was…

“Glumshanks, thurhaakum duruth gorotu ishoing?? gu’vuth shrakeebag hakookinor azverywheruth guoum gorou!” The stout troll ran forward, the three others clambering along behind her, cooing and cackling about how Glumshanks was apparently in ‘hot water’ and how much trouble he was in.

“Mama, I-”

Glumshanks started, only to get cut off by the woman yet again, grabbing him by the sleeve and dragging him back towards the house, paying Kaos no mind whatsoever. Ascral, Haldir and Zhoark trailed off at the sight of him, on the other hand, words turning into hushed whispers as they followed their mother to the door. Kaos hesitated, then followed after them, a curious tilt to his head as he tried his best to listen in.

“I usholmar gorotu ushug ashtazag shrakzag ushhuth gulouse! gorotu dol-noiz ushhiakun athlacuth guakun ishangerous, thurhaakum thuroulmar thuruth ishug guir gorotu duloakum hakost, inium thurorse!!” The mother’s voice was sharp. He couldn’t understand a word she was saying, but Kaos could tell she was... less than pleased. Glumshanks kept trying to speak, but couldn’t get a word in edgewise. It was almost amusing, if not a little sad. They didn’t even seem to notice the door barely hanging on its hinges, simply walking inside as if they did this every day. The trio of smaller trolls threw their knapsacks to the ground as their mother dragged Glumshanks to the table, sitting him down as she continued to lecture on about ‘ushhuth gumportancuth iniir guamilzag gobalueakun’, whatever that meant. Thropp had passed out in the little alcove beneath the loft, his soda-induced stupor leading to a sound slumber. Kaos was amazed he was able to sleep through the shouting, but then again, if he had grown accustomed to his homelife, maybe this was normal for Glumshanks’ family too? Kaos stood in the doorway, watching the trolls acting like they had lived in this house for their entire lives, the chaos from outside now filtering into the lantern-lit room. Zhoark, Haldir and Ascral raced each other up onto the loft, laughing and jeering as their mother verbally berated her stringbean of a son, grunting and snarling as she threw her hands around to punctuate her sentences. Kaos couldn’t help but watch, picking up on details he hadn’t noticed before; like her graying ginger hair tied in a messy bun, the dirtied apron wrapped around waist, the fact that despite her tone, her cool grey eyes were soft, worry creased across the wrinkles in her face rather than anger. Kaos furrowed his brow, then tensed when he heard her voice trail off, gaze now locked on him. She said something to Glumshanks, then quickly walked around the table, standing before Kaos with her arms crossed across her chest, staring down the bridge of her nose at him. Kaos took a step back, looking over his shoulders as if expecting her to be looking at someone else there, before mustering up a hangdog smile.

“You.” She spoke sharply, jabbing a finger at his chest. “Thurhaakum ishug gorotu ashpeauku.”

“Mama, he-” Glumshanks cleared his throat. “Guluth ilabag ininlzag ashpeauku gulumabag.”

The woman looked back to Glumshanks, scrunched her face up, then gestured to the table. “Ashiakum. Ashiakum.”

Kaos just blinked. Before he could figure out a way to respond, she had taken him by the sleeve, dragging him to the table and sitting him down with more force than really necessary. Kaos winced, then rubbed his shoulders, his discomfort creeping up his spine like a clutter of spiderlings. Glumshanks merely offered him a sympathetic smile.

“Kaos, this is our caretaker, Oyana.” He gestured to the troll woman. “Mama, this is Kaos. He’s my, uh-”

“Ishug gorotu azaakum ashugarbaakum.” She interrupted, paused when she noticed Kaos’ look of utter perplexity, then spoke again. “You. Eat dinner?”

“...yes?” Kaos didn’t quite understand the question, but before he could ask her to elaborate, she had already shuffled off into the back room, closing the moth-eaten curtain that covered the doorway behind her. Kaos let his posture slump, breathing a sigh. “Well, your mother sure is... something.”

“Hm? Oh, she’s not my mom.” Glumshanks rested his chin in his hand, his arms resting on the table.

“But you call her mama? Is this, like, a cultural thing I don’t understand or…?”

“Kinda. I think she’s the equivalent of a human grandma to us? Something like that.”

Glumshanks traced his finger across the table’s surface, drawing little swirls in the light layer of grime that covered it. In the back room, Kaos could hear the clanging of utensils, firelight crackling out from beneath the loosely hung drapery. Up in the loft, he could hear the trio talking in hushed grunts, saying things he could barely hear, let alone understand.

“...I guess I’m staying for dinner?” Kaos managed a laugh. “I’ve never had troll cuisine, so this should be fun! Then maybe after we can give that map another look, eh?”

“Yeah, fun.” Glumshanks chuckled, a hint of sarcasm sprinkled over his words, though he cracked a smile nonetheless.

Kaos grinned back, letting his guard slip, if only a little. From the kitchen, Oyana called Glumshanks’ name, causing him to jump up with a start, calling back before rushing into the kitchen, probably to help with the cooking. Kaos sighed. The pounding techno music outside was almost a comfort now that he was used to it. Thropp let out a shuddering snore, then fell silent again, the three upstairs sniggering at the noise. Kaos looked out the window, to the islands past the edge of the village. He needed to get home, but staying here a little longer couldn’t hurt, right?

***

Kaos folded up the comically large map best he could, eventually giving up and thrusting it against Glumshanks’ chest, letting him deal with the crumpled mess of parchment. This was the spot. Kaos stood before the well, then looked up, glaring at the empty night sky above. That couldn’t be right. He had fallen from one well into another, so surely, his home had to be above this one. Kaos huffed, trying to wrack his mind for any possible landmarks he may have passed, something to jog a possible path to take. Anything to prove he was merely misremembering what had happened. He winced, holding his temple, the bandages Glumshanks’ mama had fixed in place scratchy against his fingertips. Had he really hit his head that hard?

“You’re sure this is the place?” Glumshanks cleared his throat, a frown on his face.

“It has to be. How many odd, intricately carved wells could there be in a single area?”

Glumshanks adjusted his worn jacket, then took another look at the map, peering at it from different angles to try and see if they were missing something. Kaos grumbled under his breath, pacing around the well, his hands folded behind his back. This wasn’t adding up.

“You said you were in a forest, right?”

“Yes. A two-toed greeble stole my scarf so I chased it right into those lumberous leviathans’ lair.”

“Lumberous-”

“The trees, Glumwad. Keep up with me here!”

“...riiight.” He looked down at the map again. “There should be a forest not too far from here, if you follow the path you should come to it in no time.”

Kaos paused his pacing, ten pulled the map down to his height, peering at the section Glumshanks was on. Sure enough, it seemed to portray a densely wooded area, though none of the surroundings seemed to spark a feeling of recollection. Still, it was at least a start.

“Well, I guess I’ll head that way then...?” Kaos tried to hide the hesitancy in his voice, to no avail.

Glumshanks looked up the way of the tread path. “If you want, I can walk you there, but Mama wants me back before ‘moonset’, so I can wash the dishes… and make the beds…”

“Let me guess, if Thropp doesn’t have his pillows fluffed he throws a fit?” Kaos snickered.

Glumshanks managed a dry laugh. “More or less…”

Kaos frowned, then wacked Glumshanks on the arm playfully. “Well, we’ll just have to have you back by moonset then, eh?”

“Before moonset.” He corrected.

“Yeah yeah, whatever. You’ll be back to do your menial labour before you even know it.”

Kaos turned, putting on a brave face as he started down the beaten trail. He lingered as he passed by the well, still slightly suspicious of its carved walls, though he did his best to shrug the feeling off. Now wasn’t the time to let his active imagination get in the way. He picked up the pace, trying his best to keep in stride with Glumshanks, who was managing to overtake him even with his slower, meandering speed. Curse those long legs. It didn’t take long for the two to notice the foliage getting denser, the previously vacant planes of boulders and browning, patchy grass now overtaken by thorny roots and dense, red bushes. Kaos hopped over a small break in the island, his frown worsening. He had a faint sense of familiarity, but it felt like he was grasping at straws. It was a few moments before Kaos noticed the troll was no longer by his side. He paused, then looked back. Glumshanks stood at the edge, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“I… I should be heading back.”

“Yeah- yeah of course. Don’t wanna keep them waiting.” Kaos laughed awkwardly, his spine prickling.

“Stay safe, okay? Don’t go getting eaten by a Gargantula or anything.”

“No promises.”

Glumshanks gave a small, tense wave, Kaos trying his best to reciprocate before turning to face the forest. Knowing Glumshanks wasn’t by his side, the trees seemed to loom over him, branches reaching and leaves rustling like razor blades ready to slice at him if he got too close. Kaos took a step forward, then looked over his shoulder, watching Glumshanks walking away, his heart sinking further with every step the troll took. Kaos took a deep breath, turned to face the path ahead, then began walking.

“Wait!”

Kaos was nearly bowled over as Glumshanks came racing up to join him, branches and dry leaves crunching beneath his bare feet. The troll skidded to a stop, wringing his hands together.

“I-I’m sure Thropp can survive without me for a little longer. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t help out?”

Kaos smiled, his eyes lighting up. “A piss poor one, that’s what.”

Glumshanks laughed breathlessly, then ducked under a low hanging branch, walking along into the looming shadows. Kaos took a moment, then followed, keeping his hand on his rusty pruning shears. Just in case.

#skylanders #bring back the skylands #skylanders academy #second leaf #duality #fan retelling #fan continuation #fan fiction #writing

[therearemonstersinthedark]

Book 2 Luciferous

Chapter 11: No One’s Here to Sleep

A Guardians of the Galaxy Fanwork

Pairings: Peter Quill / Gamora (one-sided), Peter Quill & Nebula (freindship)

Genre: Adventure, general

Word Count: 5.5k

Rating: T to be safe, mild gore and cussing in some chapters

Links: Fanfiction.net || Ao3

Summary: Peter’s dreams are back, and Mantis begins some lessons of her own.

Author’s Notes: Title is from ‘No One’s Here to Sleep’ by Bastille

No One's Here to Sleep

.

"So you and your father are an element? I have never heard of such a thing as a living creature being an element."

"Elementals, Drax, we're Elementals, apparently, which just means we can control the elements or something like that. I'd never heard of it either."

The rest of the Guardians, minus Rocket, were eating dinner with Peter as he shared the information he had learned with them. Even Nebula, who had joined him on his walk back, had decided to stay to hear his news, though she made a rather obvious point about staying far away from her sister.

"And Cosmo has his powers drawn from one of these... 'Givers?'" Nebula asked from her seat next to Drax.

"Yeah. Ego said drinking from the head on Knowhere should have killed him but, it's not completely unheard of for this to happen. He was just lucky I guess."

Nebula pursed her lips in disapproval at the mention of luck. "This does explain a few things," she murmured.

"How is your progress with your own powers going?" Gamora asked from where she sat two seats to his left, in the corner diagonally across from her sister.

"Oh!" Peter shoved his chair out so he could stand up and step away from the table. "Check this out!"

Peter was still pretty tired from the day's work, so he only managed to form a crystal about the size of a baseball, but it was satisfyingly round and toeing the line of being called truly transparent. "It's usually a bit bigger," he confessed, slumping back into his chair and placing the crystal on the table with a thunk. "But it's a big improvement from this morning and it's getting easier to summon and control the Light."

Drax reached forward to grab it, chewing loudly as he rolled it around in his hand.

"And how is this orb supposed to help us defeat Ronan and Thanos?"

"Well, it's not, but eventually I'll be able to make bigger things. When I fought my father last time I made these massive rock-bodies, like gigantic fighting robots," Peter waved his arms up dramatically to emphasize how very gigantic these bodies were. "It was pretty cool."

"On the subject of fighting," Gamora said, her arms crossed neatly on the table in front of herself as she stared at Mantis, sitting across from her. "Do you know how to defend yourself at all, Mantis?"

Mantis blinked her huge eyes in surprise at this question. "I have never needed to defend myself. Ego is very powerful, and I am always with him."

"No one has ever tried to hurt you?" Gamora asked.

"Well, I have met... unhappy people, but with my abilities, I can sooth them back into a happier state if they come too near. I rarely speak to others, though, so it does not happen often."

"Peter," Gamora turned her eyes on him now. "How did she manage in combat in your timeline?"

"Uh, I guess we looked out for her if it got too physical, but she's tough, and she was learning." He shrugged, not sure if this was the answer Gamora was looking for. Mantis was, compared to the other Guardians, pretty frail in terms of physical strength and fighting ability, but it had never been a big issue in their travels. They hadn't actually had many big fights after Ego's planet, though. Mostly it was some contracts that led to a couple firefights, and Rocket's shenanigans leading to their usual violent endings. Someone was always there to keep an eye on her, and she walked off any bruises or injuries she incurred with admirable grace.

"If you are planning to take her with us, she will need to know how to defend herself, at least." Gamora narrowed her eyes at him like he was an idiot. "You can't take someone with no real experience into battle against my father. She'll be dead in an instant."

"Why don't you guys teach her?" he asked. "I'll probably be too busy with my own lessons to do anything about it, but you and Drax would give her occasional lessons in my timeline."

"I would love to 'take lessons' with you and Drax!" Mantis piped up eagerly. "I have never had lessons before. This is so exciting!"

There was scoff from Nebula's corner of the table, and Peter glanced over to see her glaring into her food like it had personally slighted her.

"It's getting late," Gamora said, glancing meaningfully at the light fading rapidly through the glass panes. "We can start in the morning. There are no lights here, and I don't want you injuring yourself in the dark."

There was a clink of utensils as Nebula set hers down and shoved her chair out. "I'm done," she said flatly when she noticed Peter staring at her with his brows raised in question, her good mood from earlier in the day seemed to have vanished.

"Are you going exploring again tonight?" Peter asked.

Nebula shot her sister a darting look before answering, as though considering whether or not she wanted to give away her plans where Gamora could overhear them. "Yes," she told Peter. "I'll be in the canyon beyond the river if you need me."

"Okay," he said, as she made her way to the open doorway. "Thanks. Let me know if you run into Rocket?"

Nebula didn't look back, but she waved a hand in acknowledgment of his request as she left.

When Peter turned back to the table, Gamora was staring after her sister with her lips pinched in the corners.

-x-

Mantis was apparently eager to get to work, Peter thought to himself, as the pounding on his door came much earlier the next morning. Lifting his head from the pillow with a groan, Peter opened his eyes and could barely make out the features of his room under the starlight glinting through the panes of his window.

"Mantis?" he asked, suddenly wondering if it might be one of the other Guardians instead, but couldn't think of any reason the others would be pounding on his door at who-knows-when in the morning.

The knocking came again, more insistently this time.

"Hello?" Peter kicked off his sheets and groped around for his boots. "Who is it?"

More knocking, this time the door shook in its frame under the abuse.

"It's open," Peter called, giving up on his boots and crossing to the door. "What do you want?"

He flung the door open wide, but there was no one there.

"What the?" he mumbled, glancing up and down the hallway. "That's not funny! Come on. Go wake up someone who your life doesn't depend on their beauty rest!"

Something made a noise from outside.

"Rocket?" Peter asked, suddenly hopeful. Maybe Rocket wanted to speak to him without the other Guardians nearby. Peter stepped out into the hallway and immediately his foot slipped out from underneath him. He had to grab the door frame to keep from going down. "Ugh, what?" he grumbled, lifting up his foot to stare down at where he had left a track through a thick layer of dust that coated the marble floor. Peter swiped at his sock cautiously, but it appeared to just be normal, unremarkable, dirt. A little plume of dust rolled off of his foot and settled back to the floor. As he watched it settle, he noticed that, other than where his foot had just landed, the rest of the dust lay sleek and undisturbed. There were no other tracks in the hallway. So... maybe not Rocket.

Curiosity peaked, Peter stepped out into the hallway, careful of his footing this time, and made his way across to Drax's door. The layer of dust muffled the sounds of his steps, making him feel like a ghost himself.

"Drax?" he hissed, rapping on the door with his knuckles. Unnerved by the silence -not even the sound of Drax's snoring leaked through the walls- Peter shoved the door open. Inside, the room was empty and a thin film of dust coated everything in here as well. The dust sat the thickest in a clump on the bed, but Peter could find no clue as to what could have caused this or where Drax had gone, so he stepped back into the hallway and slid the door shut. He pushed Gamora's door open next, but her room was in the same state, and just as unhelpful.

Peter licked his lips and tapped his fingers against his pants, pausing when he realized something else here was out of place. Peter held his unbandaged hands up, marveling at the perfect, unbroken skin in the dim ghost light of the hallway, and it dawned on him like someone had raised a curtain after he had already guessed what was behind it. He'd known, but not really known, until just now.

Peter was dreaming again. This may be the most real one yet, or at least the most aware he had been without waking up. They were getting stronger.

Peter cast his gaze up and down the empty hall, not sure what he was supposed to be doing here. Was this a test of some sort? Peter closed his eyes and reached out towards the Light. He didn't know if he could reach it in a dream, or whatever this was. If nothing else, it could provide him with a way to light up the hallway. Ego would probably be disgusted at the notion of using his powers in such a way, but as far as Peter was concerned, his father's annoyance was just more incentive to do it. But when Peter felt the familiar sensation of the power drawing to him the world around him began to shudder. Peter's eyes flew open to see the walls dancing and rippling unnaturally. A wild, unreasonable panic seized his mind and Peter quickly severed the connection he had built, pulling away from the Light as if it had burned him.

The world around him settled back into place, and the panic receded, leaving his skin prickling despite the pleasant temperature. So that... was not a great idea...

There was another noise from outside. A grating sound, kind of like a cat scratching at a door, but louder, and it echoed unnaturally through the building around him. Feeling pretty confident that this was a dream and he was safe, Peter shook off the chills and moved towards the front doors to investigate. When he pulled the massive copper door open, he had expected to find the usual scene of galaxies, but was met instead with a bursts of hot air and a bright burning sky. Peter held one hand up to shield his face and peered through narrowed eyes into the wind. The world around him was lifeless and barren- even more so that when he had fallen asleep. All of the plants had died, most of them seemed to have blown away, leaving behind clumps of shriveled up sticks and vines scattered across an endless landscape of dry cracked dirt and sand that blew about and danced in the harsh wind.

"Ego?!" Peter called. His voice was snatched up by the whistling wind and blown away.

The scratching noise came again, this time echoing through the empty world around him like something was trying to dig in through a ceiling that didn't exist. Something moved in the corner of his eyes, and Peter squinted against the acrid wind until he saw it again. In the distance, beyond the softly rolling remains of the garden, something was sending the dirt flinging upward where the wind caught it and carried it off.

Peter tugged his jacket tight against his neck and waded into the wind. The sandy ground and bits of brittle leaves crunched under his socked feet, and the closer he drew to the flinging dirt, the louder the scrabbling noise became, but still the sound echoed from all around, rather than from his destination. As he surmounted a small roll in the desert, he was able to get a look at what was causing the strange phenomena. A series of rectangular holes had been dug into the dry dirt. Eight in total, all lined up neatly, like graves. As Peter watched, another clump of dirt was flung out of the nearest one and he approached with a sense of trepidation to peer over the edge. Inside, some four or five feet down, Rocket's striped tail bobbed as he dug furiously at the dirt with his bare hands, pausing to grab the loose dirt he had churned up and flinging it out from the hole. The scratching noise was louder than ever, and Peter had to shout to hear his own voice over it.

"Rocket?!"

Rocket paused in his digging again and straightened up to peer at Peter looming above him. The scratching in the sky above which had not stopped when Rocket had been throwing the dirt, stopped now. Slowly, his lips split into a wicked grin. "This one's for you," he promised darkly.

"What?" Peter took an unconscious step back.

"I told you to dig," Rocket said. "I was very clear. And that's a very difficult thing to do from here. If you can't dig fast enough on your own, I'll have to help."

"Rocket," Peter said slowly. "Where are the others?"

Rocket paused to look behind himself like he could see the other graves despite being underground. "We're all dust in the end," Rocket said. When Rocket turned back his eyes had changed, but instead of the red and blue Peter had seen on the Starburst, his eyes were flooded with stars and swirling galaxies. "One way or another. All but me. But if you help me dig, it doesn't have to be so bad. If we dig together, it will take much longer."

"What does that mean, Rocket?" Peter asked, ignoring how his skin shivered under that gaze. "None of that made any sense- why would it take longer to dig together?"

"Isn't that what you want, Peter? To delay the inevitable? I want that to, but I can't help you until you dig me up."

"What I want is to wake up," Peter said, crossing his arms and hunching miserably against the wind which hadn't relented in its assault. "I want these dreams to stop."

"Then keep digging." Rocket gave one last tooth flashing grin that was only a step to the left of a sneer and his body began to fall apart like dust in the whipping wind, sweeping away and swirling into nothing. The scraping noise started up again, rattling Peter's bones and filling his skull until he screwed his eyes shut against it.

-x-

Peter did not immediately awaken this time, but fell instead into a black and dreamless void so that by the time he stirred to wakefulness the next morning, the worst of the shudders and disgust had faded. The memory of what had occurred was still fresh enough, but the feelings had grown stale and he did not leap from bed with a shout or awaken in a pool of his own sweat. Instead, he lay on his back, his fingers laced together across his stomach as he stared mutely at the ceiling until Mantis came to alert them breakfast was ready.

"You are very quiet today," Drax told him between bites of his second plate. "Are you feeling unwell?"

"I'm fine," Peter lied, taking a bigger bite of his own food as if to prove it. "I just didn't sleep well."

"More dreams?" Nebula had deigned to grace them with her presence again. She had appeared after everyone else had sat down to grab her own plate and sit down in a chair that Peter was pretty sure Drax had intentionally saved her away from her sister, and while a part of Peter wanted sorely to say something, to tease her for her continued refusal to be a part of life, he was a little afraid she would actually leave if he did, and having all of them here and whole and alive was making him feel better. All but Rocket, that is.

"Yeah," he mumbled. "Hey, did you happen to see Rocket last night?"

"I saw him from a distance, but we didn't speak. It seems he is still trying to find a way off of this planet."

"Ego's ship-?"

"-is rubble by now."

Peter didn't feel even the slightest tinge of annoyance or regret at learning of the destruction of his father's property.

Mantis was clearly excited for her lessons. She could hardly sit still through breakfast and was clearing away everyone's dishes almost before they had finished cleaning them off. Drax nearly upturned the table, lunging over it to snatch the last bite from his plate as she pulled it away after he had turned away to say something to Groot and she had thought he was done. She was so upset by her mistake it took Drax taking her hand and placing it across his chest to assure her that he was not angry.

When everything had calmed back down the group moved out into the court beside the cliff where they had first stepped from the horseshoe shuttle. The fountain was out of the way enough that it still left plenty of open space to practice in, and even provided a place to sit for Groot who happily perched on the edge, toying with the false metal fish as they span in their endless cycle.

"Do you have any weapons here?" Gamora asked as she finished inspecting their footing. "A sword, or staff, or anything like that?"

"Oh!" Mantis exclaimed. "I will be right back!"

She vanished into the main cathedral that loomed over the court, returning a few minutes later, face flushed and panting, but held the item she had retrieved up for Gamora to inspect with a proud smile. It was a long staff, almost the height of Mantis herself, a brilliant gold with sparkling emerald carvings that didn't quite resemble dragons, but made Peter think of them nonetheless. "Often, when Ego and I would visit planets, the locals would offer Ego great gifts- things like clothing, or food, or decorative trinkets and weapons," Mantis explained. "Ego has no need of such things, so he either refuses, or disposes of the items later. When Ego and I visited the planet of Kleinert, he saw how much I loved this item, and allowed me to keep it."

She said this with such pride, like a child telling the story of how their parent had purchased them the exact pony they had wanted for Christmas. The sheer joy and gratitude sparkling in her eyes over something that had cost Ego nothing, and he probably didn't even remember doing, made Peter want to reach out and give her a hug.

Gamora took the staff and balanced it carefully in her hands, testing its weight and giving it a few experimental swings before handing it back. "It is actually very well made for such an ornamental piece," she said, loud enough for the others to hear. "Kleinert is known for its metalwork, and prides its self on combining beauty with durability and function. My father had considered commissioning me a piece from their smiths, once."

From behind Peter, Nebula gave a snort.

"This will do," Gamora finished and Mantis positively beamed under the assassin's cool approval.

"First, lets show you the basic stretches and stances."

Peter got comfortable on the steps and let his anxieties melt away as he watched Gamora guide Mantis through the familiar routines she had shown to him once. He was wincing in sympathy as Mantis struggled to find her balance in a stance that he had almost pulled a hamstring learning when he heard the scuffling of his father's shoes approaching from behind him.

"Are you ready to go?" Ego asked in that tone that clearly said 'I'm not really asking.'

"Yeah." Peter stood and stretched, dusting imaginary dirt off of his pants before turning to follow his father down the familiar pathway to their own practice grounds. "Aren't you going to ask what Mantis is doing?" Peter asked as the walked.

"No," he answered with disinterest. "She's yours now, you may do with her as you wish."

Peter's nose wrinkled and his brows drew together into an ugly glare at his father. "She's not a thing." Peter just couldn't understand why Mantis could feel anything but hate for the monster walking beside him.

Ego didn't answer him, and they continued on in silence.

Again Peter was lead to the center of the courtyard. "We're going to begin expanding on your usefulness today," Ego informed him. He snapped his fingers and a bubble of light rose from the ground between them, bursting outward and forming into a wide basin, about a body length across and nearly coming up to his hip. After that, he reached one hand out to hold it over the basin, in his hand swirled a smaller ball of Light. Slowly he tipped his hand over, and water began to spill from the orb, splashing into the basin below. Peter watched the orb carefully, but no matter how much water poured through, the amount of Light never changed. After a couple of inches had gathered in the bottom of the bowl Ego closed his hand and the light vanished, the last drips of water fell into the pool below where the ripples slowly settled into a pristine and unblemished surface.

"How do you-?" Peter began to ask, but Ego cut him off.

"You can take a break when you have filled the bowl to the top," he said, clasping his hands behind his back and stepping back to stare at Peter expectantly.

"But how do I make water?" Peter asked.

"The same way you made rock," Ego snorted. "I suggest you get started, or you'll be here all night."

Peter's lips pulled into a deep frown. He was running out of patience for these cryptic games. With an angry flick of his wrists, Peter held his own hands out over the bowl and began to gather Light. It came easier than ever, and he had a respectably heavy ball of light knitted together in a matter of minutes. He tried to focus on the thought of water, the feel of it, and the light seemed to change in his hands. Instead of growing heavier or denser, like it had when he was forming crystal, it changed in its behavior. Before, it had felt like it was made of strings of lightning, moving in darting, unpredictable ways. Now it was beginning to grow more sluggish and uniform, swirling in a slower fashion and trying to leak out the bottom. Peter tried to hold it together as long as he could, but before the light had cooled from the orb in his hands he lost control and it slipped from his hold. Instead of the explosions of yesterday morning, it burst like an overfilled water-balloon, chunks of still dimly-glowing liquid plopped into the bowl where they sizzled and bubbled into the existing water.

"You should tip it earlier," Ego told him, ever-helpful only after the fact. "And you cannot hold the water between your hands after it is formed, try to change only one section at a time."

Peter tried again, deciding to stick with smaller balls of light for the time being to avoid more big messy bursts of liquid light.

Trying to control the Light in sections was a much bigger challenge than Peter had anticipated. Edges would slough off when they became too heavy, unbalancing the energy still in his control, or the section he was working on would be reabsorbed by the Light if he lost focus for even a moment. Eventually, he tried Ego's trick of tipping his hands and letting the formed bits trickle out, aided by gravity. This way he could put most of mind to the task of making sure the water formed from the center and guiding it out through the same hole. This trick made the process less messy, but it was agonizingly slow. Each ball of Light only produced so much water before it had all been transformed and drained away and Peter had to start back over at the beginning.

The water level in the bowl had only raised a palm's worth by the time Peter had to pause and catch his breath, leaning with one hand against the smooth lip of the basin.

"How am I supposed to fill this?" Peter panted, his head hanging low. "This is going to take forever."

"Keep digging," Ego's voice answered.

"I am digging," Peter snapped, turning his glare from the tips of his boots to the celestial across from him. "This is me digging."

"I'm glad to hear that," Ego said, raising a brow. "Now, if you are feeling comfortable enough with controlling the Light in parts, why don't you try refilling the Light you posses as you drain it away."

Peter huffed out a mouthful of air and straightened himself back up to try again. As he stared into the Light, obediently swirled into existence between his hands, Ego's voice again broke into the silence.

"You're not digging deep enough."

The tiny orb in Peter's hands wavered, but he held it together.

"You're wasting your time with this, keep digging."

The bundle of light he had gathered flickered out with a tiny 'pop' as Peter looked up to shoot Ego an annoyed look.

"What are you doing?" Ego asked. "Focus."

"Gladly," Peter grumbled, not amused by this new game.

Things fell back into silence after that. Hours of practice had left Peter fairly exhausted, and he was beginning to run out of steam. The Light was growing just a bit more difficult to summon every time. He was considering whether he should drag out just a little more before he began trying to summon and modify the Light at the same time, or if he should just give it a go with the Light he already had, when Ego's voice cut into his concentration again.

"You're taking the long way," his voice rumbled with frustration.

Peter huffed his annoyance but didn't want to spare the energy to look up or answer, so he dug deeper and pulled another thread of light into existence.

"You have to keep digging if you ever want to save your friends."

"That's it!" Peter screamed, throwing the ball of light down in a fit of rage where it burst violently against the water's surface below and sent up a spray of water and mist.

Ego's eyebrows shot up at Peter's outburst. "Peter-"

"I'm here aren't I?" Peter shouted over him. "I'm learning to use this stupid Light and doing everything you've asked, so why are you doing this?"

Ego drew himself up to his full height and had the audacity to look shocked and offended. "I don't know what you're-"

"Don't lie to me!" Peter stepped around the basin and pointed one finger accusingly at the celestial before him. "Those dreams were bad enough, but now you're threatening my friends!"

Ego's lip peeled back into an ugly sneer, but his voice remained calm under Peter's storm of accusations. "I have not threatened your companions. I have no need to."

"Yes you did. Just now!"

"No, Peter," Ego's eyes narrowed. "I didn't"

"I heard you!"

"I haven't said anything."

"But you-" Peter's burst of rage was cooling under Ego's confused denial, and a strange spark in his father's eyes.

"What did you hear, exactly?"

"Keep digging," Peter repeated, watching Ego's face carefully. "Keep digging or... or I'll never save my friends."

"And you heard this in my voice?" The dark shadow of suspicion in Ego's eyes was replaced with a spark of understanding and something angrier that was making Peter's skin itch. "Just now? You're sure?"

"Yes?" Peter asked, suddenly not so sure of anything.

Ego ran his tongue over his teeth and made a face like he was tasting something sour.

"What is it?" Peter asked. "What's going on?"

"Celestials aren't the only thing that walk on other planes," Ego muttered darkly. He raised his hand up and placed his thumb against Peter's forehead much like he had the first time they had met.

The immediate result was less spectacular this time, perhaps because Peter knew what to expect, or perhaps because Peter already had some access to the Light so this was less overwhelming, he really didn't know. A strange tingle rushed through his body, and the late-morning forest around him transformed into a landscape of stars over the seafoam court. As Peter stared at the stars in amazement, he recognized the colorful galaxies of his nightmares.

"Finally," Ego's voice rang out from behind Peter, entirely disconnected from the body of his father which still stood in front of him, his mouth unmoving. Peter turned around to find a second Ego standing across the court. His eyes were bright with triumph and lips split into a toothy grin that revealed pointed teeth. "Found you."

"What the f-?"

A hand came down on Peter's shoulder and he risked a glance to find the Ego he'd come with had stepped up to stand beside him. His eyes were narrowed dangerously at his twin.

"Eternity," the first Ego, which Peter was pretty sure was the real one, growled over Peter's shoulder. "What is your business with my son?"

End

#gotg #Guardians of the Galaxy #fanfic #fanfiction #ff.net #Gotgvol2 #Nebula #Gamora #Mantis #Drax The Destroyer #Groot #Ego the living planet #Rocket raccoon #Eternity #MCU #marvel #AU #alternate universe #gotg astronautical #Luciferous #chapter 11

[angstgremlin]

We Walk in Starlight

Pairing: McReyes

Rating: T

Summary: What was the harm on wishing on a star?

written for McReyes Summer Break 2017, Day 7 prompt Starlight

– – – – – – – – – –

Read on Ao3

Author’s Note: This should have been posted yesterday but it was Canada Day and I got distracted by a very emotional session of D&D, but here is my late Day 7 entry for @mcreyesevents Summer Break. Its a Werewolf Jesse AU with the bonus of Gabe being a being of Stardust essentially.

Jesse McCree had a pretty sweet gig, for a werewolf. Small town, middle of nowhere, log cabin just on the outskirts of a national park with wolves and bears under protection from poachers and hunters alike. It couldn’t be more perfect; he even had a job fixing up random things the townsfolk needed help with.

Awful lonely though.

That was just Jesse’s lot in life, though. Can’t really start looking for a long term relationship and open conversations with oh hey I’m a huge hulking Wolfman every full moon I hope that isn’t an issue. A lot safer for a partner if he didn’t have one anyways. Never had a person come across him during a full moon shift and that wasn't about to change.

Most of the nights leading up to the shift he’d sit and watch the moon go through her phases, and see the stars twinkling. At least you have company up there; he’d think to the moon, filing his constantly growing claws down for the umpteenth time.

It just so happened that on one summer night, as the moon was beginning to wane, Jesse witnessed a shooting star start to fall above the mountain ridge. Jesse’d been feeling particularly lonely that night, as he was normally after his shifts, so he took a chance on that star, and made a wish.

No harm in wishing for a little bit of company, after all. Someone to call his own. A werewolf could dream, couldn’t he?

Only the star didn’t shoot across the sky. It flared up in the atmosphere, a meteorite and not a star apparently. Well, that was just Jesse’s luck, wasn’t it? He supposed that his wish wouldn’t come true as he watched the object fall from the sky. At least if Jesse went to find it, he’d get a cool space rock. Or maybe a pet space rock. Jesse could put it up on his shelf next to his little cactus.

Jesse watched the path the meteorite took, saw it crash into the tree canopy a kilometer or two from his cabin. Deciding he would indeed add the space rock to his little knick-knack shelf, Jesse fetched a flashlight from inside and set off into the woods. The bears and wolves knew better to mess with him, so Jesse never minded a late night hike from time to time.

Knowing these woods like the back of his hand helped Jesse in finding his way through the dark. The benefits of night vision and a keen sense of smell that bled over from his more monstrous form helped too, admittedly. It wasn’t long before the smell of scorched earth hit his nose as he neared the site of the meteorite.

Jesse didn’t expect to hear pained screeches when he came upon what he was certain was the crash site. Jesse was met with an abnormally large owl; it’s left wing bent in an odd shape, the poor thing startled and screeched when it noticed Jesse had come upon it in its weakened state. Poor thing looked so lost and scared.

Forgetting about the meteorite, Jesse knelt a little ways away from the owl, gently cooing nonsense to get it to calm down. It wasn’t like any owl Jesse had ever seen, huge compared to the owls he’d frequently seen in the area. It’s dark eyes were set in a round bone-white face and had specks of white in them, as it’s dark flight and back feathers did too. Jesse approached it cautiously.

“Hey… it’s okay. I ain’t gonna hurt ya. I jus’ wanna take a look at your wing.” Jesse cooed, moving closer. When the owl made no move to bite or scratch at him, Jesse inched closer to tenderly inspect the wing. “There’s a good owl. Lemme see whats happened ta you.”

The wing was indeed broken and would have to be set soon if the owl would hope to fly again. Jesse flinched in sympathy when his touch was a little too rough on the wing, and the owl screeched in discomfort. Jesse soothed his knuckles over the owl’s belly in apology.

“Sorry Mr. Owl, I don’t know my own strength sometimes.” Jesse said softly as he shrugged off his serape, placing it on the ground before the owl, “I gotta get ya somewhere cozy an’ warm so I can set your wing. You be good an’ don’t bite on me, okay? My fingers ain’t mice for ya ta snack on.”

Incredibly carefully, Jesse reached to coax the owl onto his serape, surprised when it waddled onto it. It turned those huge eyes up to Jesse, dark against the bone-white of its face. A barn owl, Jesse recognized now that he was looking at it more closely. It was a little unnerving, to say the least, but the poor thing needed Jesse’s help.  

It was lighter for it’s size then Jesse anticipated even with the benefit of werewolf strength, lifting his serape up into a makeshift nest around the owl to carry it in comfort back to his cabin. Jesse tried his best to mind the owl’s wing on the way back, but kept getting distracted by the fact that the darn thing wouldn’t stop staring at him.

It was getting a little spooky.

Jesse may or may not have chanted it’s just an owl over and over in his head on the way back. The comforting light of his cabin helped with his unease, and once inside he set the owl-serape bundle on his table. The owl still stared as he moved around his small front room to gather supplies, swiveling its head to follow Jesse’s form around. The staring was getting to him a little, but Jesse supposed that if you were injured and in strange company, you’d keep an eye on said company too.

Eventually, Jesse had all he needed to help set the owl’s injured wing, and he worked as carefully as he could to set it right. Eventually, the wing was set as best as Jesse could get it, and he had to stifle a yawn as he watched the owl swivel its head again to stare at the splint. It was probably bedtime for them both. Jesse set about making a quick makeshift nest for his owl friend to recover in, lifting the owl off the table and into it shortly after.

“There ya go, Mr. Owl.” Jesse gave the bird a soft pat down it’s black back feathers, missing the way there seemed to be a trail of small sparkles that followed the path of his hand in his tired state, “You’ll just shack up with me while you’re gettin' better, okay?”

The owl seemed to hoot in agreement, and Jesse nodded, “Good night, Mr. Owl.”

And with that, Jesse turned in for the night.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“Don’t look at me like that, Mr. Owl.”

Said owl in question was staring up at Jesse and back to the dead mouse wiggling in front of it, hooting in what Jesse could only guess in distaste. Jesse had been taking care of the owl for almost a week now, feeding the owl little scraps of meat before he realized it would probably be best not to domesticate the creature too much and actually give it its proper food.

“I know you’d rather hunt for your food but ya ain’t goin' out on that wing until it’s better.” Jesse scolded, petting the owl’s belly.

Mr. Owl ruffled its feathers, pecking at Jesse’s hand and stretching up to nip at his hair. Jesse just sighed.

“Please? You gotta eat it ta keep your strength up.”

The owl seemed to agree with that much at least, finally plucking the mouse from Jesse’s fingers and throwing its head back to swallow it down. After it had nipped at Jesse’s fingers, and Jesse chuckled and stroked its belly again. The owl seemed to preen under the attention.

“There’s a good fella. We’ll get ya up an’ flying again in no time.”  

Jesse lifted the owl and moved it to perch on one of the backs of the kitchen chairs, then set out to cook his own lunch. The owl’s staring had gotten less spooky the more the owl had lived with Jesse in the cabin. Having it there was almost comforting in a sense, and Jesse often talked to the owl about anything and everything. He even confessed to being a werewolf, which honestly felt nice to let at least someone know, even if that someone was just an owl.

Jesse whistled as he cooked, jumping slightly when a heavy weight landed on his shoulder. Jesse looked accusingly best he could at the owl now perched on his shoulder.

“Thought I told ya not to fly.”

The owl tilted its head, blinking at Jesse innocently. It seemed to flap its wing pointedly, and while it still wobbled, the movement looked the strongest Jesse had ever seen. Jesse whistled in surprise.

“You’re healin’ up faster then I thought ya would.”  

Which was… admittedly odd. But at least his little friend would be up and about soon and back in its natural habitat. Jesse turned back and placed the owl back on the chair, giving the owl a gentle scratch before turning back to his cooking. Jesse’s meal of spaghetti didn’t take much longer to prepare, and his owl friend stayed on the chair from what he could tell. Though the chair did seem to creak heavily under the owl’s weight. Which was also odd.

When Jesse turned around, he nearly jumped out of his skin. His owl friend was gone, in its place was a tall, beautiful dark skinned man. A cloak of feathers fell around him, speckles of white blinking in and out on the feathers. One of the speckles even moved across the surface like a shooting star.

“….Hi.” Jesse said waving awkwardly as he and the stranger stared each other down. He couldn’t spot his owl friend anywhere, which meant…

“You’re an owl. Or were.”

The stranger dipped his head in a nod, “Correct.” His voice sounded a little ethereal. It sent chills up Jesse’s spine, good or bad chills he could not tell at the moment.

“Uh… yeah. Can’t call ya Mr. Owl… you got a name?”

“Gabriel.”

“I’m Jesse.” Jesse offered, since he’d had no reason to introduce himself to an owl. “So… you’re an owl… or can be. Is it like my werewolf thing?”

“I’m not entirely sure. I was something different before this. I hung in the sky, shone brightly among my siblings, though they were far away.” There was a sense of sadness that crossed his face then, and Jesse felt the urge to comfort him, “Then I fell.”

Jesse couldn’t help but offer Gabe half of his lunch, sitting down at the table with his guest, “You’re a star.”

“I believe that’s your word for it, yes.” Gabriel seemed to pick at the food set in front of him with interest, seeming to get the hang of a fork right away before tucking into the spaghetti.  

“The meteorite that night… that was you.”

“Yes. It was. I don’t know why I became an owl. All I remember was falling, and hearing your voice and—“

“You heard my voice?”

“Yes. Clearly. You asked for a companion.”

Jesse blushed bright red, sputtering in embarrassment, “Didn’t think no one was actually listenin’.”

“I did not intend to listen, if it makes you feel better,” Gabriel stated, eyeing the rest of the spaghetti that Jesse had yet to finish. Jesse slid it Gabriel’s way, watching tiny speckles of white— little stars— light up Gabriel’s dark eyes. It made Jesse feel a little bad he’d been feeding Gabriel mice, though he didn’t dwell on it long when the former star continued, “And well, I’m here, aren’t I? I suppose your desire came true.”

“Huh. Guess so.”

The rest of lunch went by in surprisingly comfortable silence, and when Jesse turned from Gabriel to clean the dishes, he found himself with an owl on his shoulder again.

“You’re still not supposed to fly until I know your wing is okay, just so that ya know.” Jesse scolded.

Gabriel only hooted and pecked at Jesse’s hair in response.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Having a star-owl-man for a roommate wasn't that bad in the long run. Days went by slowly, and Jesse worked on more odd jobs for the townspeople to earn some cash to get Gabriel set up with some actual clothing that wasn’t just that feathered cloak. Gabriel himself was adjusting to his existence on Earth pretty well, helping Jesse keep the cabin and his little vegetable garden in the back up and running when Jesse wasn’t home often as he worked.

Since there were questions that Jesse couldn’t answer that Gabriel definitely had, Jesse’d set him up with an old smartphone of his and an internet connection. Jesse’d returned home that day with the kitchen smelling of at least three different meals. It turns out Gabriel enjoyed cooking tutorials.

“Better than mice?” Jesse asked when they’d sat at the table together to eat what Gabriel had prepared.

Gabriel had only snorted, “Better than mice.”

Gabriel always had questions for Jesse himself too. What it felt like to be helpless to the moon’s call and shift against his will into a werewolf, why he always filed his claws down, and so forth. Jesse answered honestly always, Gabriel was a friend now, after all. Jesse had his fair share of questions for Gabriel too.

“What was it like, up there?” Jesse asked one night, where the moon hung in the sky, a balance between dark and light where it was cut in half. “Was it lonely?”

“It was, I guess.” Gabriel answered after brief consideration, “I could always see the light of my siblings around me, and it filled me with warmth. But I could never reach out and touch them. We were all so far away from one another…”

“That does seem awful lonely.” Jesse said softly, “Do you miss it?"

“Yes and no.” Gabriel answered. Before Jesse could ask why, the former star had reached and cupped Jesse’s face tenderly, “This is warm too.”

Jesse just blinked, but after a beat, he leaned into the touch, made a soft noise in his throat when Gabriel leaned closer and touched his forehead to Jesse’s.

“Do stars need physical contact like us humans do?” Jesse took Gabriel’s free hand in his, rubbed his thumb along the back of it.

“I wouldn’t know if we need it. Never had it before.” Gabriel said softly, tightening his hold in Jesse’s hand.

“I can’t fathom bein’ up there, so far away from the others. Never thought stars knew they were so far away.”

“I don’t even know if the others knew… it’s also possible I was the only one like me.” Gabriel said softly, wistfully.  

“Now that’s kinda heartbreakin’.” Jesse murmured softly, nuzzling his nose against Gabriel’s instinctually to comfort. “Could that have been why you fell?”

“I wouldn’t know. Though I assume, after all, that’s occurred after I did, that I fell for you. I did hear your voice, after all, and you came and found me. Took care of me.”

“What makes me so special that a star would fall?” Jesse couldn’t help but whisper in disbelief.

“Does there have to be a reason?” Gabriel’s hand still hadn’t moved from Jesse’s face, his thumb now petting the scruff of Jesse’s beard, “You and I were the same in a sense. Both alone, and now we’re not. I needed you as much as you needed me.”

“Then… Thank you, for bein’ here.”

“You’re welcome.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Things changed with Gabriel after that. They washed dishes pressed close together at the sink, shoulder to shoulder. Jesse was often leaning to nuzzle Gabriel gently as they worked side by side. Their fingers would occasionally twine if they walked the woods together. Stolen, tender touches that increased in frequency the longer they spent together. It was more than Jesse could ever ask and hope for, this thing budding between him and Gabriel. Which is why he was afraid to risk it.

Jesse was worried to confess he wanted more with Gabriel, pretty much wanted the world with his starlit shapeshifting companion, especially with his next impending shift coming closer and closer as the days went by. Gabriel would turn away from him if he saw Jesse’s wolf, would flee if Jesse hurt him in that form. As such, Jesse started to shy from Gabriel’s touch. Take his hand back if Gabriel wanted to hold it. It broke his heart to see the hurt darken those beautiful starry eyes, but it would be for the best in the long run.

Jesse just never expected for Gabriel to confront him about it.  

“You’re running from me.”  

Jesse had set himself in his little woodworking shed, but he hadn’t locked the door, assuming Gabriel would leave him be to work as he often did. Not today though, Gabriel had come to find him, standing in the doorway. It made Jesse’s heart ache, so see Gabriel haloed in the light of the sun behind him but look so sad.

“I ain’t running—” Jesse started but was interrupted by Gabriel closing the door and walking towards him with purpose, something burning in those glittering eyes.

“You are. You’re running scared, like a pup.” Gabriel was close now, standing tall and almost terrifyingly beautiful above Jesse, the feathers of his cloak ruffled in his anger.  

“Gabe.” Jesse tried again, to at least get a word in, “It’s just—“

“Bullshit.” Gabriel interrupted again, staring down at Jesse, all those stars in his eyes burning vibrantly. The stars smattered about his cloak were in much the same state. “It’s just bullshit. I don’t care about what you are one day a month. I don’t care about whether or not you think your wolf is dangerous. I trust you. I trust you, Jesse McCree. You have never wanted to hurt me; you would never hurt me.”

“You don’t know that—“

“I do know.” Gabriel’s voice went softer, tender, “I know this because it is what you’re trying to do right now. You’re scared to hurt me, so you’re trying to prevent it however you can.”

Gabriel bent to cup Jesse’s face, tears making those beautiful eyes sparkle more so than normal. It wrenched Jesse’s heart painfully in his chest to see those tears, so much so he whined in distress, hands flying up to soothe them away when they fell.

“Gabe… Honey, I’m sorry.” Jesse apologized, pulling Gabe closer to touch foreheads with him, knowing full well those tears were his fault, “I ended up hurting you anyway.”

“You did. You can still fix it, if you want. I still want to follow the path we’ve started down. I’d like to have you with me as I walk it.”

Jesse’s hands trembled as he stroked Gabriel’s face, “I want to. I wanna be with ya. I’m jus’ terrified.”

“Isn’t that what love is anyway?” Gabriel rubbed his nose with Jesse’s, eyes falling closed as they shared the moment. “I’m scared too; I’m scared that something will take you from me, that I’ll be alone again. But we can’t let these fears dictate our lives.”

Jesse found himself nodding, thumbs still wiping away the remnants of the tears Gabriel had shed in heartbroken anger. What Jesse couldn’t reach with his thumbs he kissed away.

“I…I think I’m in love with ya, Gabe.” Jesse admitted softly, “I almost fucked it up, an’ I’m sorry.”

Gabriel’s eyes when he reopened them were brilliant with starlight, the stars captured in them the brightest Jesse had seen, “You’re fixing it. We’re both entitled to our fears, but next time speak to me instead of pushing me away. I want to help you face them.”

Jesse nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Instead, he tenderly pulled Gabriel into a kiss to say everything he didn’t yet have words for.

When he pulled away, he learned Gabriel’s smile was just a brilliant as his star-filled eyes.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The full moon was a sliver on the dark horizon, and Jesse fidgeted in his seat on his porch, the werewolf curse running in his veins wanting to rise to her call already.

Jesse cast an uneasy gaze to Gabriel seated next to him; both cuddled up under a cloak of starlit feathers.

“You’re absolutely positive ya wanna be here for this?”

Gabriel hummed in confirmation, rubbing Jesse’s side to soothe and in part to warm him. Jesse was clad only in a pair of worn boxers, which he admitted was more for Gabriel’s sake then his own. Shifting had not been kind to Jesse’s wardrobe over the years, so on nights of the shift he went without. Easier on his wallet and his closet that way.

“It’s not a pretty sight.” Jesse tried again, the call getting louder in his head, his heart starting to pound as the moon inched higher in the sky.

“You told me that.” Gabriel replied, going on to say with finality, “You’re not changing my mind.”

“Okay.”

Jesse gave up, fidgeting and squirming until he couldn’t resist the moon any longer. Jesse moved from the warmth of Gabriel and the cloak, eyes melting from warm brown to bright gold in the light of the moon. Jesse’s bones creaked and cracked, fangs elongating in his mouth before his face formed into a short muzzle full of razor sharp teeth. The change was always painful, bones breaking and rearranging to form anew into the werewolf’s form. Jesse forgot all about Gabriel being present as the shift continued, only remembering his star was there when he was left panting on the grass, and a gentle hand carded into the thick fur between his pointed ears.  

Jesse didn’t snarl at the contact, only lifted his massive head to turn gold pupil-less eyes to his lover. The massive Wolfman actually leaned into the touch, whimpering softly at the contrast between the pain he’d just been in and the tender petting. Gabriel only continued to stroke and pet, stopping when the werewolf rose to his full height and towered above him on his hind legs. Gabriel rose to stand next to Jesse after a moment, quickly looking over his now much taller lover for injury left over from the shift.

They stood in silence staring each other down before a smile spread on Gabriel’s features. He urged Jesse to lower his massive head, pressed a kiss to the cold nose of the werewolf before Gabriel pressed his forehead to the soft fur between Jesse’s eyes. The moment of peace passed briefly before Gabriel grinned, eyes bright with mischief.

"Race you to the old gnarled oak. Last one there has to take out the garbage for a month.”

Jesse snarled and bared his fangs in distaste at the thought of taking out the garbage for a whole month, immediately sinking out of Gabriel’s hold and onto all fours and bolting through the foliage. Gabriel only laughed, the sound joyous and bouncing through the trees before he swirled his cloak around him in a flourish of feathers and stardust. Gabriel took flight in his owl form to chase after his werewolf, with only the moon and stars as their witnesses.

#mcreyessummerbreak #McReyes #Jesse McCree #Gabriel Reyes #Alternate Universe #werewolf!mccree #Comsic Owl!Gabriel

[imaginedeux]

On Your Left! Zack Merrick AU Part 9

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 ‘

Trigger Warnings: Tattoos, Tattoo Needles, Self Image Issues

-Weeks Later; (Y/N)’s POV-

“Okay, I'm going to start, this is the last time you have to back out.” The tattoo artist said wiping at my ankle. I nodded before I looked away from him.

“You’re going to be okay, it’s smaller compared to the ones the rest of the crew have.” Zack said from next to me, his hand over mine, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles, trying to calm me down.

“Defiantly smaller than the one Rian has.” I said taking in a sharp breath feeling the needle come in contact with my ankle. “Yup, shit place for a tattoo.” I mumbled before Zack laughed.

“I told you to get it on your arm, but nooooo Pikachu knows everything.” Zack mocked as I flinched as the needle got closer to the bone.

“Yeah, this next part might suck, so Zack, can you make sure she doesn't move her leg.” The tattoo artist asked wiping the extra ink getting more to continue the line he was on. I turned to see Zack nod and place his other hand on my shin.

“You’re doing awesome (Y/N), just a little it more.” Zack whispered leaning his head against the side of my head. We had only gotten closer and closer after that night on the roof of the bus, it started with secret smiles, hand holding when no one was around, and most recent was cuddling with each other when we watched moves in the living room. “Hey, think about it, you’re the first one in the group to have a different kind of tattoo from everyone else.”

“Yeah, I didn’t want to have an exact same one...” I smiled thinking back to when I designed the small skull with cross bones. It wasn’t that amazing of a design, it was simple, a couple of lines, no filling, it was different but it still looked like skull and cross bones the guys had.

“There you go, you’re all done.” The tattoo artist said putting a liquid onto the tattoo before wiping it away. I looked down at the quarter sized tattoo and smiled, it was exactly the way you had designed it.

“Thank you! Its exactly the way I wanted it!” I said happily giving the man a hug. “It looks like I'm officially a part of the All Time Low family.” I smiled at Zack who still had his hand on mine as the guy wrapped my ankle up.

“Babe, you’ve been a part of the family since the day you stepped onto the bus.” Zack chuckled lacing his fingers with mine helping me up from the tattoo chair. I  blushed at the pet name, I still wasn't use to the pet names and the PDA we showed each other out in the open. After paying for the tattoo, hand in hand Zack and I stepped out of the cold shop into the warm air of Hawaii. About a week after tour ended, I temporarily moved in with Zack while we planned our adventures for after Christmas, where we’d spend it here on the island with a group of friends I was going to meet tonight. “So what do you want to do? We still have a couple of hours until we have to meet with my friends until the get together.”

“Not to sound like a total girl from a movie or something, but I still kinda need an outfit for tonight. Most of the clothing I brought with me from home fit a bit big on me.” I confessed blushing. The whole buying actual clothing was still new to me, in college I spent most of my time in jeans and band tees, and now I was in basketball shorts and old shirts.

“Thats nothing to be ashamed of (Y/N), we can go shopping for an outfit, and its not a fancy get together so you don't have to worry about that. Look there’s a store, we can start there and if you don't like anything we can go to another one.” Zack knew very well I was still kind of insecure with my body, and there were still shirts and pants that didn't fit me that well, so he knew that shopping for clothing was a scary thing to me. Luckily for me I was able to find a cute and comfortable outfit and some pretty sandals to go along with it within 30 minutes which gave us enough time to get to Zack’s place and get ready at a calm pace.

Getting to the house I quickly undid the dutch braids my hair were in since last night when I did them after my shower. This allowed my hair to become fake cork screw curls and gave me more time to do make up, which still took me life to do even if it was simple. 

“Babe, you ready?” Zack asked knocking on the bathroom door I were behind applying some liquid eye liner for the millionth time.

“Yeah, sorry still getting the hang of liquid eyeliner!” I yelled ripping open door to find Zack putting on one of his snapbacks. “I should have asked at the store but does this look okay?” I asked looking down at my outfit, it was a loose light blue blouse that had a couple of buttons at the collar, one of which I left undone, some form fitting dark capri jeans, and some nice sandals, I left my tattoo wrapped not exactly sure where we would be heading throughout the night. I honestly felt like a mom on vacation, but I still felt comfortable.

“U-uh, y-yeah. You look incredible (Y/N).” Zack blushed looking at my outfit. He had a fit black tee on, some dark jeans and his usual Supras. “Wow.” 

“Um, thanks. You look good yourself there Merrick.” I smiled walking past him to the room we’d been sharing since we got to the island, to grab my wallet and my cellphone. “Did your friends ask us to take anything?” I asked looking into the mirror one last time just to make sure I didn't look like a total fool.

“Um, yeah, I got it done while you got ready.” Zack explained coming up next to me as I messed with my hair a bit more. “Hey, you already look perfect, no need to worry.” He said grabbing my hand stopping it for messing with my hair more. “Come on, lets take a picture.” He smiled this time putting his arm around my shoulders.

“You really want to take a picture?” I asked looking up at him as he took his phone out and put it in selfie mode. “Hah! For once I actually look tiny next to you!” I laughed looking up at the camera, Zack taking a couple of shots while I laughed. “I wasn't ready!”

“You still look perfect (Y/N), but here we can take some on your accord.” He laughed handing me his phone.

“Yes, let the professional photographer take the pictures, now stand behind me.” I ordered him laughing. He stood behind me as pointed the camera at the two of us. He laughed seeing that he would have to bend down so his face could come out in frame. “Alright, one two three!” I said smiling while I took the pictures, Zack quickly kissed my cheek as I took the last photo.

“I think thats going to be my favorite.” Zack said grabbing the phone from my hands and ran out the room to the dining room. “Come on (Y/N), we need to leave!” Fifteen minutes later the two of us had arrived to the get together, food in tow.

“Liam!” Zack yelled seeing the man who was just as buff as Zack, open the front for the two of us.

“Zack! Long time no see, good to have you back on the island.” Liam said bringing Zack in for a huge hug. “And this must be the ever so popular (Y/N). When we would talk while you all were on tour, he couldn't shut up about you. Its nice to put a face to a name.” Liam said bringing me in for a hug, that wasn't as tight as the one received. “Come in, come in, were only missing a couple of people before we can really get this party started.” He yelled happily before grabbing onto the dish of food I was holding.

“You didn't tell me there were going to be this many people.” I whispered before most of the people in the house yelled for Zack.

“I didn't think there would be this many people either. Everything will be fine, if you need to out of here for a bit, just squeeze my hand twice and well find a quiet place to chill for a bit.” Zack whispered back holding my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. For the next 30 minutes Zack took me around introducing me to all of his friends, all of them, thankfully, were nice. Until we hit the last bunch of people.

“Hey Malia, Jess, Rick, nice to see you all again!”

“Nice to see you again man, long time no see. How you been?” Rick asked giving Zack a ‘bro hug’. “Who is this?” He asked gesturing towards me.

“This is my- um (Y/N). She’s our photographer and graphic designer for tour. We’re going to be traveling a bit after we celebrate Christmas here. So I thought it was a good idea to introduce her to everyone before Christmas in a couple of weeks.” Zack explained, gripping onto my hand a bit tighter. We never really talked about what we were with each other, we weren't in a relationship yet, but we were most defiantly not just friends.

“So you're sleeping with the help?” The red head questioned giving me a nasty once over. I suddenly felt as if I was taking up a lot more room than I should be.

“Jess, what the hell?” The blonde next to her yelled. “Im sorry (Y/N), Jess can be a bit, salty.”

“I’ll fight for whats mine Malia.” Hers? Wait was Zack in a relationship? Am I the other woman? I slowly let go of Zack’s hand stepping away from the group.

“Wait, no, I was never yours Jess! We went to lunch once, and we agreed nothing was going to happen between us.” Zack argued before looking back at me, trying to keep me near him. “Nothing ever happened between us Babe, I promise you.”

“Pet names already? Its funny how i’ve never seen Zack mention you once or even posted about you on Twitter or Instagram.” She shot back, the venom dripping in her voice.

“Because she asked me not to.” Zack retaliated, he was right, I had asked all the guys and Tom not to post any photos of me on any social media after the incident when Tom took a photo of Kellin, Zack and I, and Zack had his arm around my shoulders. Most of the comments were targeted at my weight, which was my main source of insecurity so I though I would make it easier on myself if there weren't any photos of me.

“Or maybe she realized that she’d never be good enough for you Zachary.” Jess said, throwing the finishing blow to my gut. I squeezed Zack’s hand twice, and ran.

#all time low #Zack Merrick #all time low imagine #zack merrick imagine #all time low au #zack merrick au #On Your Left Imagine #On Your Left! AU