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orqheuss · 10 months

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Even the iron still fears the rot PART 2

(Ominis Gaunt/Sebastian Sallow/GN!Reader ANGST)

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6

Summary:

Sebastian and Ominis wake in a tiny prison, each cell barely big enough to house a standing hippogriff, and are forced to come to terms with their fate. Meanwhile, back at the castle, you are beginning to worry about your friends' absences.

Word count: 3.3k

Tags: panic attacks, gore, blood, claustrophobia, kidnapping, yelling men, body horror

Read at your own discretion

Sebastian awoke to darkness. If it wasn’t for the pain pounding behind his eyes, he would honestly think he was dead— gone from this world without a whisper of a goodbye. The dirt under his body shifted as he rolled over to lie supine, every inch of him screaming in pain when he ever so carefully sat up. A groan unceremoniously ripped from his throat, his forehead dipping downwards and falling into his open palm, the other reaching back and fingering at the large concave at the base of his skull. He could feel the cooled remains of blood coating his thick curls, slicking them down and sticking the locks to the base of his neck. It felt like he had gone through three rounds in the ring with a graphorn— hell, he hoped he had just fought a graphorn; it was definitely better than the alternative. The brunette pawed around on the ground for his wand, checking his pockets as well as the floor and coming up empty handed. Tiny pebbles lodged under his nail beds, the sharpness of the stones poking at the delicate skin there, and brought the memory of what had happened to the forefront of his mind. Pained hisses escaped through his clenched teeth as he fought his way to his feet. All the blood in his body surged upwards towards his head, disorienting him and sending him stumbling into the closest wall. Blinding white stars flashed like a swaying flame behind his eyelids as he stiffly slammed his eyes shut, clutching at the top of his skull and fighting against the lightheadedness that threatened to send him tumbling to the hard ground again. A steadying hand reached towards the wall, leaning all of his body weight onto it until the spinning stopped. Even with the knowledge of his kidnapping resurfacing, he couldn’t find it in him to feel anything— his thoughts and emotions locked behind a wall of hazy grey throbbing ache. All that filled him was dizziness and pain— constant, incapacitating pain. Only when everything stilled and the world around him stopped rotating like a possessed carnival attraction did he squint open his eyes, blinking against the sudden light that dilated his pupils and burned his corneas.

Now more present in the moment, Sebastian took the time to examine his surroundings and get a feel of where he was. He was still dressed in his street clothes, his once black trousers coated with a thin layer of dirt and grime from the hard soiled floor. He reached up and felt along his collar, shucking off the constricting tie from the wings of his white button up and patting down his forest green wool sweater. There was a large crusty spot on its neckline, and he cringed inwardly at the coppery scent and residual flecks of blood now caked under his fingernails. Shifting his eyes away from his form, he took in the room he was trapped in. Large, floor to ceiling metal bars stretched from his right to his left, stone wall to stone wall. Still slightly hesitant on his feet, the concussed boy took a few shaking steps and grasped onto the cage wall, giving it an experimental shake and testing its solidity. A mix of a heaving sigh and a groan left his parted, chapped lips when it refused to budge. There was nothing else around him, just a small cell, barely large enough to contain a hippogriff.

Looking through the bars, he lazily rolled his eyes left and right searching for a way out— nothing, not even a hatch in the ceiling could be found. Even with the very real threat looming over his head, and the fact that he was completely and entirely entrapped in a cell with no wand or any other way out, the brunette boy was unperturbed. He had been in stickier situations before, and he always came out on top— at least, that’s what he told himself. As long as he was the one in peril and no one else, everything would be fine.

Still swinging his gaze around the strange passage partially under the earth, his muddled brain finally took notice of the second cell in the room, its bars directly across from his and just as thick. The warm orange glow of the braziers lining the walls casted shadows in every direction, catching on the thick alloy beams of his prison and highlighting the slumped form in the cell across from him. The terrible, demented part in his brain cackled maniacally at the sight of the subdued form, a voice very similar to the one that cursed his sister slithering into his ears, providing rather unhelpful commentary and taunting him.

Well, so much for it being just him in danger.

Sebastian’s breath stilled in his throat, recognizing the golden tresses of his closest companion. Everything he was meant to be feeling since waking up swam to his frontal cortex, flooding his brain with dark and dismal images recounting his tremulous journey. Panic finally began to slither into the freckled boy’s chest, scratching and clawing at the terror-marred skin of his larynx and vocal chords. He turned fully forward, standing to his full height and slamming his entire body weight against the door in a vehement need to get to the slouched wizard— hands white-knuckling the iron and fingernails digging into the skin of his palms. Nothing moved, only a whisper of a creak sounding from the effort.

Sebastian called out for the Gaunt boy, desperation seeping into his voice like a sponge. “Ominis!” The body didn’t move. “Ominis, wake up!”

Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he shook the cage again, this time causing a slight rattling sound to moan from the mechanism. The thought of his best friend being dead, that he was alone in this dark and dingy place with the rotting corpse of the boy he was in love with across from him, sent a bullet directly through his brain. More images flooded his mind, this time of his life without his beloved blond Slytherin. He saw pictures of the Undercroft, dark, dusty, and empty; a threadbare casket being lowered into the ground, a simple headstone decorating the grass with his name and epitaph— his family would surely not bury him in the Gaunt mausoleum, so Sebastian would have to do it himself. He envisioned his ethereal baby blues, normally alight with curiosity and a zest for life now even more clouded than normal, dull and dead and staring at the sky. The boy shook his head wildly, lightheadedness rearing its ugly head once again. He needed to protect him, to hold him, to keep him safe .

He tried again, a whimper forcing its way out of his parted lips— his brows turned up near the bridge in anguish, eyes clouded over and dull with dread, his breathing nearing hysterical.

“Ominis, please! ”

The castle walls felt constricting as you paced the floor of the Undercroft, your silver pocket watch clutched tightly in your hand and only echoing the taunting chimes of the large clock across the school. Sebastian and Ominis were supposed to be back by now, and anxiety had long ago begun to dig itself deeper and deeper into your chest cavity, lodging just above your trembling heart and causing it to skip periodically. They were never late, at least, not when they were together. The brunette definitely lacked an awareness of time passing around him, but if Ominis was there, then they both would be just where they had planned no later than scheduled. It was in your nature to fear the worst, especially after everything that had befallen your little group as of winter last year. You only hoped they were alright, that they just got caught up in something once they returned to the school and were lounging contently in front of their common room fire.

No, your brain supplied. Ominis always sends a letter if plans change.

You fought to stay positive, trusting the two boys you cared about so incredibly deeply with your whole heart— a loyal trait that got you in trouble more often than not.

As much as you hated the thought, there wasn’t much you could do at that very moment. The school had essentially gone on lockdown after curfew since the battle under the castle, making it impossible to sneak in or out once the moon breached the horizon. You tried to weasel your way around it by pleading with Deputy Headmistress Weasley, but your efforts were in vain; she was as bull-headed as her begrudgingly obnoxious boss.

With a heavy, ground-shaking sigh, you wracked your fingers through your hair one last time before turning on your heel and stalking towards the creaking entrance of your secret hideaway, promising yourself that if they didn’t appear by breakfast, you would raise alarm.

It was quiet for what felt like a year at least. Sebastian clenched his lower lip between his teeth to keep his cries at bay, watching for the slow rise and fall of the blond’s back in hopeless need. You would think it was the brunette who was in need of oxygen, but anyone close to the pair knew differently. If one was dead, the other would simply cease to exist— there was no one without the other, they wouldn’t have it any other way.

A groan came from the ground— long, drawn out, and coughing at the end. A rush of air filled the brunette’s lungs, relieved tears springing to his eyes and a laugh filled with disbelief launching from his mouth.

The body coughed harder, rolling over onto his back and heaving mouthfuls of fresh, somewhat musty air. “...Sebastian?”

More relieved breaths of laughter came from the freckled boy, his hands carding through his hair as he pressed his forehead to the cold iron. “Yes! Yes! It’s me! Thank Merlin you’re not dead— Fucking hell— Thank you.” He didn’t know who he was thanking, but whichever pantheon was above owned his life. He owed them— would do whatever they wanted and pay for it until the end of time.

He flopped heavily to the side, his legs giving out as he sunk down the stone wall now at his back. His hands slid down from his hair, covering his face as he rested his elbows on his bent knees and sobbed in sovereign, delighted solace. He could hear Ominis struggle to sit up, pants leaking from him in a steady waterfall and his hands smacking against the ground as he searched for something. His slaps grew frantic, his lungs struggling against the point of hyperventilation, and Sebastian looked over at him with concerned interest. The boy was on his hands and knees, a distraught expression shifting over his face like a storm cloud crossing the sky as he slid his hands across every inch of the dusty floor.

The Sallow boy rose to his knees again, shifting his weight and grasping at the prison bars. Worry creased at his brows as he hesitantly spoke. “Ominis, what—”

“I can’t find my wand!” Came a panicked shout, cutting off the brunette’s question in its haste to leave the blond’s throat.

“They took our wands.” The brunette struggled to comfort the other boy, desperately trying to slow his breathing so he doesn’t keel over. “Hey, breathe, it’s going to be okay—”

Ominis interrupted him again, terror leaching into his body. “No, nonono no.” He whimpered. “Y-you don’t understand. I can’t see. Sebastian, I can’t see.”

If it was any other time, Sebastian would have commented at the vast under-exaggeration of his words, the sheer oxymoron of the situation, until the gasped words of his companion truly settled in his brain. Of course the boy couldn’t see, but without his wand he truly couldn’t see.

The freckled boy went into damage control mode, something he rarely needed to use because of Ominis’ normally stoic nature. It was very rare that he ever saw any negative emotions from the boy— any strong emotion, really. “Ominis, I need you to breathe, okay? If you keep panicking you’re going to faint again. We’ve been without your wand before and everything worked out— it’ll be okay.”

The blond struggled to his feet, feeling out the wall nearest to him and using it for stability. He began to pace the tiny room, hands pulling at his hair and sending it in all directions. Blood caked on his face, sticking just under his unnaturally bent nose, scarred cheek, and a new cut on his forehead that Sebastian hadn’t noticed before— from when he dropped to the ground, Sebastian reasoned. The henchman must have given him a good thwacking.

Hysterical agitation shedded from the boy in waves. “Yes, that was when we had lost it in the Undercroft. I can get around there just fine without my location charm! This is a bloody dungeon in Merlin knows where, and we’ve been kidnapped — no one knows where we are!”

The brunette balked at his words, stuttering a nervous reply as anxiety filled his stomach. Normally, anger would be his go-to emotion in stressful situations, but all he could feel at that very moment was feral, animalistic fear.

“W-we aren’t trapped. I’ll think of a way out. I-I’ll get us out—”

“ HOW Sebastian?! How are you going to get us out of here? Please enlighten me, I am quite literally all ears.” Ominis spun on his heels, facing towards where the other boy’s voice came from and descending on him in anxious rage; his teeth were clenched in a snarl— a rabid animal ensnared in a hunting trap, standing its ground against the approaching poacher.

Sebastian backed up, stumbling over the assorted pieces of rubble that littered the ground at his feet— scared of the person he considered his soulmate. He protectively wrapped his arms around his midsection, squeezing himself and grounding him to the moment before his panic got out of control. Whimpers fell from his lips like a broken faucet, words cracking and splintering as the beginnings of a panic attack clung to him.

“I-I don’t know. Fuck, I don’t know I don’t know!”

He thumped against the stone wall again, adopting the same position as before— elbows pressing into his bent knees as he curled into a tight ball, arms protectively shielding his head and gripping at his roots in grounding pain. Words of hopeless turmoil continued to spill into the air, seeping into the ground below like seeds in a garden. The brunette didn’t have the time to feel shame about his lack of composure— the brave, bravado filled Slytherin was long gone after the detrimental events of his fifth year. Ominis’ eyes softened at the sounds of his closest friend falling apart, all the anger flying from his body and disapparating around him. He sighed heavily, pushing the air from his lungs violently through his parted lips, and felt for the stone wall again, slumping against it and letting gravity carry him downwards. The blond thumped his head against the hard surface, wincing minutely as he jostled his fresh, still very irritated head wound, and let his body relax into a position of resignation— eyes closed, chin pointed upwards towards the ceiling, knees bent and arms resting atop of them, hands dangling and still.

Sebastian’s breathing calmed down again not long later, the boy helping himself through his bout of anxiety. Ominis waited for the brunette to relax again before he spoke, voice soft and gravely.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t take my anger out on you. For once, it wasn’t your fault we’re in this kind of mess.”

The other boy scoffed, his lips twitching upwards in a very small, almost unnoticeable smile. “Wow, thanks. High praise coming from you.”

“Oh, you know what I mean, you dolt.”

The room fell into silence once again, both boys stuck in their own minds as they racked their brains for an escape plan. It truly seemed hopeless, not one exit in sight, not one window or door. Sebastian whacked his head against the stone wall, eyes closing and a sigh of annoyance hissing through his closed teeth.

Ominis was the first to break the stillness. “So, what does this place look like? Any leads on freedom?”

The brunette described the cells, the long hallway and the lack of any escape route in great detail— likely the only way out being apparition which they couldn’t do without their wands. The blond sighed again, a heavy sense of abdication breathing into the miniscule cell. He lulled his head to the side, facing the other boy to the best of his ability.

“I can take a guess on how the two men look, but what about the woman? What does she look like?”

Sebastian’s mouth opened before his brain could catch up. “A cunt.”

Ominis snorted, rolling his neck back to its parallel position with the rest of his form. “Figures.”

A hush fell again— a feeling of uncanny peacefulness slithering through their prison bars like a venomous snake hiding in the tall grass. The brunette was on the verge of falling asleep when little giggles shook him back to consciousness. He lazily turned towards his friend again, a slight taste of bewilderment glittering in his eyes. Ominis had his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking as his laughter ramped up in volume. Sebastian raised an eyebrow at the strange behavior.

“What the bloody hell are you laughing about?”

Insane, maddening titters spilled from behind the Gaunt boy’s long, bony hands as he struggled to speak through the boisterous sounds. “It’s quite ironic, isn’t it? Out of everything that has happened to us, this is how we go out— a lowly strumpet with a vendetta that isn’t even against us.”

The freckled boy pondered this for a few seconds before laughter began to rapture out of his throat as well, loud cackles filling the dingy, mildewed dungeon from both of the Slytherin’s. Manic tears pooled in their eyes, spilling down their cheeks as they clutched at their stomachs in pain. It was nice, finding some type of humor in their future deathbeds. This was the hardest they both had laughed in a long, long time.

The sounds of joyful insanity were abruptly cut off at the telltale feeling of the air around them shifting and breaking— someone was apparating to them. The boys scrambled to their feet, Ominis pressing himself into the furthest, darkest corner of his cell while Sebastian got up and personal with the iron bars, a scowl downturning his brows and tweaking his lips into a frown. The three poachers appeared between the cages, the woman in the middle with both men flanking her left and right like well trained hounds. She already had a smile turning up her mouth, those monstrously sharp canines making another appearance. She surveyed her two prisoners, humming in delight at finding them both awake and fully conscious.

“Oh good, you’re back with the land of the living. Time for the real fun to begin.” She motioned over her shoulder at the lackeys, sending one to stand just outside of the blond’s room and the other outside of the brunette’s. “You see, you have information that I want, and I am willing to do anything for it.”

She pivoted on her heel, taking slow steps towards Sebastian, nearly pressing her nose against his as she leaned in close. “We’ll start with you, little snake— give your friend something to listen to that he’ll never forget.”

Fear clouded his brown eyes, pupils widening to the point of near blackness across his entire iris, and he stepped back shakingly from the door, pressing himself against the farthest wall from the woman’s predatory smile.

The gate creaked open, hinges protesting loudly like it itself was being tortured, and Sebastian steadied himself for his fate.

AN: Ok y'all, I kinda just let my brain run wild during gory battle/torture scenes, so imma need u to keep me accountable and let me know if they ever get too much/too torture porn-ish, ok? Thanks.

***

like what you read? here's more!

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stagefoureddiediaz · 2 years

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Calling it now - something is definitely going to happen to Buck in season 5 or 6 because - Buck and bikes…

1x10 a whole new you - Guy split in two on motorbike

4x01 New abnormal - Cyclist swept into storm drain when dam broke

4x05 Buck begins - Buck crashes multiple bikes - push bike and motorbike

plus he has push bike on wall of apartment

And now there’s a bike and a stop sign in 5x14 it’s making me very 👀👀👀👀👀👀

#🤡🤡🤡#but - split in two guys motorbike is red - so is Bucks #cyclist lady gets swept away by a tidal wave from the dam break and ends up by the ocean - tsunami call back anyone #bearing in mind they’d brought up the tsunami in the elevator #abd I’m thinking about the guy who got split in two now dying straight away - he had to wait for his brain to catch up to his body #which is kind of what we’re seeing with buck at the moment - his brain is starting to catch up with all the trauma he’s been through #both physically and mentally #then there’s the storm drain analogy with the cyclist - pedalling as fast as you can to stay ahead of the wave (of trauma) but ending up #stuck in a storm (drain) regardless - and the emergency escape button being locked away so effort and the risk of injury is required to hit #that escape button - and open the cage/ bars - as if the mind is it’s own prison #and now we have a bike rider impaled on a stop sign - a STOP SIGN - when buck is doing all he can to not stop - to keep pushing through even #as he spirals - I mean hello - listen to the universe screaming at you buck #because if you think about it the bikes connect all the way back to Daniel and the childhood trauma that buck didn’t know about and hasn’t #truly processed #so I think it’s all very 🧐🧐🧐#buck #evan buckley#911 spoilers #911 on fox #911 fox #911onfox #911 speculation #911 season 5

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chuckbass-love · 3 years

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Hi! I know you only just posted it but would it be possible to request 33&36 from the prompts with Ransom please?❤️

A/N: Thank you for your patience on this one, i really hope when you read it that it was worth the wait. Also thank you for requesting in the first place, it means a lot that people ask me to write fics for them.

Prompt #33: "Pushing back against my fingers already? How pathetic"

Prompt #36: "You'd better watch your fucking mouth"

Disclaimer: My work is not to be translated or to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Fem!Reader

Warning: Smut! Unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, swearing, daddy kink, implied alcohol consumption and use of the word slut/degradation. 18+ everyone....

Word Count: 2,191

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @twerkforambrose go check them out 💕

Your Filthy Addiction

Five more minutes, you’re going to give that arrogant son of a bitch five more minutes before you toss the food you’d made earlier. You’ve spent all dam day slaving away in that kitchen of yours to make sure Ransom had a decent home cooked meal to come back to after a long day working with Harlan, and what does he do? He doesn’t even show up.

You might love him but if you didn’t get annoyed at least once a day with him then life wouldn’t be right. He’s always doing something to mess you around.

And today is testament to that, it’s testament to the fact that no matter how hard he tries, he just can’t help but let you down. Maybe now you’ve had enough of sitting idly by and letting him walk all over you.

So when he eventually stumbles into the house, his tipsy state as clear as day, your cage is well and truly rattled.

“Where the hell have you been?” you snap, standing in front of him with your hands placed firmly on your hips as you take in his flustered cheeks. He’s very drunk indeed, probably due to the bottomless Jameson supply at the bar across town.

You’ve tried your hardest for years ever since the night you first met Ransom to help him with his obvious drinking problem but to no avail. And now you see why your solutions to his problems never worked, it was because despite his constant complaining about said problems, he loves having just a tiny bit of conflict in his life. Mostly with his good for nothing family who only treat him like dirt. But he gives as good as he gets, always has and always will.

“I was just out with Harvey” the way his shoulders move up as he shrugs only seems to bother you all the more. His lack of care for his actions have always created issues for your relationship but this takes the cake.

To some, your pouty and bratty behaviour may seem pathetic and unnecessary, but to you it’s more than him missing dinner. It’s about the fact that he always seems to let you down, over and over.

“Oh so you prefer his company over mine then? Because i made us a lovely meal so that we could eat together after a week of not being able to and this is the thanks i get? For my so called boyfriend to be swanning off with the master of one night stands” your voice is low, your stare dark and angry, your stance even more so and he can definitely see how badly he’s fucked up.

However, if you know Ransom well enough, then you can certainly see his change in attitude coming a mile off.

“You’d better watch your fucking mouth” he barks, his finger pointed directly in your face as he stalks closer to you. You find yourself stepping back, intimidation controlling you.

“Or what? You gonna make me? Judging by the way you’ve been acting you don’t have a leg to stand on” you say matter of factly as you shake your head in disgust at his nerve. How dare he boss you around when he’s the one who’s been out of line all this time.

“Maybe i will” he pokes his chin out as he stands tall, hands by his sides. He looks awfully confident as he inches closer. His index finger slips underneath your chin as he forces you to look directly into his menacing eyes.

You feel your breath catch in this moment. The knowledge of him doing whatever he wants to do to you just because he can is causing your entire body to shiver with anticipation. Despite how he makes you feel sometimes, you’re a sucker for him and everything he does.

He says jump, you say how high.

“What?” you murmur, wanting him to use his words just like he always makes you do.

“I said, maybe i will make you. Bet you’d love that, slut” you wince at the horrid nickname. It’s moments like these when you always try your hardest to avoid thinking about how his degradation of you makes you feel, your mind is objecting but your body is giving him the green light.

How is that?

How does he always manage to do that?

Must be some kind of mind control as you absentmindedly follow him through to the kitchen, his hand barely holding onto your own.

Before you can even make sense of things, he pushes you over the kitchen counter forcefully.

His hands splay across your ass cheeks as he lifts your dress up, bunching it at your waist before yanking your ruined panties down your bare legs. Next thing you know his fingers are toying at your dripping wet hole.

“Would ya look at this...you can try all you like to act up sweetheart, but you and i both know why this cunt of yours is soaked”

There he goes again, spewing filth to get you to give up the jig. You know you have to remain strong and stable but it’s so hard to do that when he....wait! Is he inserting his fingers? Fuck, they are so thick inside of you and two already? He must be a mind reader to know how this makes you feel, he must know what gets you keening because now here you are pushing back on them like a needy little brat.

“Pushing back on my fingers already? How pathetic” he tuts, his tone mocking as he chuckles a little. Still, his fingers remain as they twist and turn inside of you, scissoring you open before he adds a third.

Fuck, this is delicious torture. The man you’re supposed to be mad at but you can’t bring yourself to be when he makes your body feel so good.

The undeniable and powerful pleasure that he provides is just too good to quit. You could never let him go even if you actively tried to which by the way, you’ve attempted it a hundred times at least.

But every time you try he just lures you back in with his sexual prowess, his high libido and those dashing good looks. His sweet talk isn’t too bad either.

When will you ever learn to strengthen yourself up and walk away? Because he’s never going to change but oh shit, the way he’s pumping his fingers in and out rapidly is enough to cause the coil in your stomach to tighten one last time.

You move to meet his fingers, hips gyrating in circular motions slowly as you reach your hand between your legs.

Of course he pushes you hand away, insisting on using his own. His thumb presses down on your pulsating clit and the breathy groans that are escaping him let you know that he can sense your impending orgasm.

“Come on, baby. Cum for daddy” he urges, rubbing firm circles on you clit as his fingers curl inside of you, pushing against that spongy spot deep within. The one that will have you seeing stars in, 3...2...1.

“FUCK RANSOM” you scream out, hands gripping the kitchen counter so hard that it turns your knuckles white, his fingers continue to drive into you over and over as he rides you through your intense high.

“That’s my girl, just like that. Let go, baby” you can hear the smirk in his voice, the smugness he feels knowing that yet again he’s prevented you from walking away.

He’s convinced you to stay just by pleasuring you with his filthy touch, his sinful thick digits.

You may be weak, but with a man this good, a man capable of making your pretty little pussy cum over and over, why would you want to be anything else?

As soon as you come down from the high, you stand up, straightening your posture as you turn around to face him. The proud look covering his face lets you know that it’s all a game to him.

You pull your dress back down so that it’s covering up your modesty before pulling your panties up.

“What’s wrong, sad eyes?” he pokes, his hands resting either side of the counter, caging you in.

“You know what. You can’t just keep using sex to keep me around, Ransom” you huff in defeat, bothered by your lack of strong will.

“Sure i can, and what’s more, you’re gonna enjoy it too” he raises his eyebrows as he spins you back around, keeping your back arched by yanking your head backwards.

Every inch of your skin turns to gooseflesh as he trails his finger down the curve of your back before reaching your tail bone and pushing your dress up. He undoes the belt around his slacks before popping open the button and slipping them down along with his boxers, freeing his erection from its tight confines.

He slips your arousal covered panties to the side before smothering his eager red tip in your mouth watering pussy juices. Once he catches on your entrance he slams inside of you, but before you can jerk forward he hooks his arm into both of yours as he holds them behind you firmly.

You can never leave him, even if you truly wanted to, you’re stuck in an ongoing loop of orgasms and rough sex.

A frantic whimper slips off your tongue as his pace now renders on animalistic, hard and fast, just the way you both like it.

Of course the real pleasure comes from the slow and hard thrusts, the ones where he gently pokes at your g spot as he lays on top of you. Your legs wrapped around him, his face in the crook of your neck. But now is not the time for gentle and slow, now is the time for rushed and needy.

He’s desperate to achieve that orgasm just as much as he is to provide one for you. To feel your legs shaking as your head lulls back to rest on his chest, eyes rolling to the back of your head, it’s something he can never and will never get enough of. The way your walls are clamping down on him right now should be illegal as he can feel his balls tighten with the impending release.

“Fuck. Keep tightening those walls baby, let yourself go. Just. One. Last. Time” his voice desperate as his breathing turns ragged, matching yours. Your chest starts to rise and fall before your head falls back to rest on his chest just like he loves. He can feel your entire body tremble in his hold as he loosens his grip and pushes you over the counter.

“Gonna fucking cum, deep inside of this pussy. Gonna fill you up with my cum, baby” he growls, his voice deeper than before. He’s so painfully close, as are you.

And as you flutter around him one last time, he spills his load inside of you, causing you to stand up onto your tip toes with your head pressed into the marble counter.

He paints your walls with thick white ropes before twitching as he slows down his thrusts, then he stills his hips.

All that can be heard in this kitchen is heavy panting before the sound of your pussy squelching as he pulls out distracts you. He pulls his slacks back up, making quick work of his zip, button and belt whilst you toss your panties into the hamper by the laundry room and pull your dress back down before heading up to your bedroom.

New panties are a must.

“Now do you get it?” he asks, leaning on the open doorway to your room and causing you to turn and face him once your fresh panties are on.

“Get what?”

“Your mine and you always will be, until i say otherwise” he states, shocking you.

“I’m not your property, Ransom”

“Oh but you are, those soaked panties in that hamper prove it. So get used to it, because you’re never leaving me, especially not now”

You’re well and truly fucked... held captive by his intoxicating smell, intimidating demeanour and his undeniable skills in the bedroom.

Guess you should have known from the day you first met Hugh Ransom Drysdale that you’d never make it out alive if you were to run.

But the real question is, do you even want to leave him? He’s everything you detest but still you stay and continue to crave more of him.

And the answer to that question would be no, no you wouldn't want to leave.

He may be a prick, an arrogant asshole and a cocky son of a bitch but he is an addiction...your filthy addiction, and you wouldn’t have it or him any other way.

-------------------------

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chanluster · 4 years

Text

[ 01:38 am ] — the ride home with hyunjin

requested : yes!! thank u anon 💚

word count : 1.4k

warnings : unsafe driving, swearing, making out, car sex, unprotected sex, orgasming

author’s note : anon i am so sorry if I rambled ion even think it’s rough sex :’) but anyway, i hope u like it !!

Baby, you’re going no where but to mine tonight.

These words rang in your mind like a sweet warning, a reminder of what’s to come as Hwang Hyunjin, who murmured them in your ear, lead you out of the chaos of the club.

His large hands wrapped around yours as he pulled you out into the crisp night air. Those hands, which had lingered on your sides all night, held an iron grip as he led you inside his sleek black car. You nearly died at the sheer ferocity of him wrenching the car door open, insisting you inside. Practically running to the driver’s seat, he slid inside, starting up the car and emitting a gasp from you as he slammed on the accelerator, bar fading quickly from view.

You held onto your seatbelt, legs clenched as arousal pooled at your core, replaying the searing kisses he had offered in the club, both of you sober from alcohol yet high on another drug entirely. Pure, unadulterated lust, ablaze within Hyunjin’s eyes as he drove, dangerously fast on the highway.

“How long—fuck, how long till we get there?” You got out, watching the man overtake car by car, going faster and faster.

“Fuck living far away,” he cursed, shifting gears, and even that alone had you hissing, feeling your panties staining.

“Hyunjin...” your fist hit the window, your other hand palming his thigh. You noticed the tick in his jaw as you whispered, “Shit, I can’t wait that long.”

One glance at you, the sheer desperation for him, and something within him snapped.

You let out a shriek as he swerved to the side, nearly avoiding an overtaking car. The vehicle drove into a road shoulder, narrowly missing the bushes as Hyunjin parked much too quick to be safe.

Your heart climbed up your throat, but when your eyes trailed to his, it nearly fell from your mouth. He was heaving, one hand still on the wheel as the other laid against the spot your own hand was, moments ago.

His next words had you dripping.

“I can’t wait that long either.”

And then the man pounced on you, smoothly trekking past the car controls, caging you with his knees as his hand went to the knob beside your seat. He swooped down, enveloping your lips with his in a heart wrenching kiss as his fingers turned the knob, slowly reclining your seat. You felt yourself leaning back, fingers instantly finding bliss in his long, blonde locks, pulling off his hair grip and feeling more of his hair tickling your face.

When you were fully lain against the leather seat, Hyunjin pulled away, full lips sweat slick. His eyes roamed over you, caged between his legs, and a malicious grin spread over his face, sending shivers down your spine.

“Look at you,” he cooed, going down as he kissed your cheeks, the corner of your mouth, trailing down your neck as his hands skimmed under your shirt. His fingers relished the warmth of your skin, growing hotter with each touch. “Already blushing when I’ve only just kissed you.”

“Shut up,” you quipped, trying to peel his shirt off of him, because you were tired of playing games, of the teasing all night. You wanted him here, and you wanted him now.

“So, so needy,” he mused onto your throat, sucking on the skin so wonderfully thet a moan ripped out of your throat, pulling at his locks. Hyunjin relished this, further hardening his efforts, as he started tugging on your top. Only pulling away from your skin to take it cleanly off, he threw it at the back seats, nearly drooling at the sight of your lace before attacking your neck once again.

“Fuck, Hyunjin—” you gasped at his tongue, skimming over your skin. Your cunt, being patient for so goddamn long, now began to hurt. “W-Want you inside of me.”

Your actions proved further when your fingers left the soft velvet of his hair, trailing down to the zipper on his jeans. The man paused his ravishing, hovering over you with dark desire swirling in his eyes.

“Keep looking at me like this,” he rasped out, fingers trailing over your neck, making your breath hitch. “And I’m gonna fuck you right into this seat.”

A small yelp escaped from you, but the thirsted gaze you kept offering him was his answer — you wanted him to do it. Fuck the living daylights out of you.

“P-please,” you murmured, trying to tug down his jeans. “Please fuck me.”

Perhaps the pretty pleases had him cursing low, because, when he got rid of his shirt, revealing to you a lean, gleaming abdomen, he worked on his button, pulling down his pants.

His boner, stark against his boxers, nearly knocked you out alone.

“Just gonna cum from staring?” He remarked, snapping you out of a daze. Heat rushed to your cheeks, and rose more when his hands trailed to the hem of your skirt, hitching it higher.

When the ends reached your waist, he spied the stained underwear you adorned, and parted his mouth, knowing it was all him that had caused this.

His eyes slid up to yours.

“Baby, I’m going to ruin you.”

You didn’t have time to react when his lips thrashed against yours, hand holding the side of your head as the other hooked a finger over the waistband of your underwear, pulling it down while your shaking hands brought his boxers down hastily.

You heard, more than saw, his cock hit his rock-hard belly with a wet smack! making you jump against his lips.

Hyunjin took a hungry glance at your gleaming cunt, and let out a ragged sigh. “If I wasn’t so driven on stuffing you up with my cock,” he uttered, wrapping his hand around the said part, “I would have licked your pussy dry.”

You answered him with a whimper, satisfying him completely as he directed his cock to your folds, already teasing your throbbing cunt, knowing it was killing you.

“Stop it, Hyunjin,” you gripped out, fingers clinging into his shoulders. “Just...fuck me already.”

The last string of frenzy you revealed was enough for this man, this beautiful, teasing man to hold your hip with his fingers as he slowly began to slide inside you.

A small hiss escaped you, finding him going deeper and deeper until you didn’t think he would fit inside of you. Your over sensitive, throbbing walls fit snug around him, and when he finally stopped, he pressed a sweltering kiss upon you.

And began to pull out.

Whatever leash he had on himself had snapped when a lewd moan slipped past your lips, unable to be drowned out by his mouth. This desire, the lust he had contained since the first time he saw you dancing in the club, saw you giving him million-dollar smiles across the light-spilled room and knew then he wanted those smiling lips upon his own.

This sudden passion, had him growling as he sped up.

Faster and faster, he slammed his cock into you, hitching you backwards with the sheer force of his thrusts — your reactions, loud and shameless, was pure music to his ears, raising your leg a little higher and boosting the pleasure for you.

“Yeah, baby,” he encouraged in a gritted whisper, running his tongue everywhere on you. “Just like that.”

The whole time you squirmed under him, so unbelievably fucked out that when your orgasm neared, your teary eyes went to him, lips parting to declare your near-release.

“H-hyunjin...” you mumbled, but the man put a finger to your lips.

His smile had you delirious. “I know baby,” he murmured. “Go on then.

“Cum for me.”

It was at that certain moment your whole world faded to nothing but your release, you crying out as you came, sliding out despite Hyunjin filling you to the brim. The man, sweat beading down his skin, undid himself into you with an roaring cry, spilling over you and the car seat.

Heavy breathing took over the vehicle then, ragged and uneven as you both searched for air in the steamed car. Your heavy lidded eyes trekked up to his own, and he gave you a lazy smile.

“Looks like I won’t be taking you home tonight,” he said, the husky, breathlessness of his voice making your skin prickle as he slid out of you.

You only raised yourself, stopping to kiss him, long and hard and filled with closure.

You didn’t seem to mind that so much anymore.

masterlist

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thatslikely · 3 years

Text

Monster - R.L.

Monster- (Young) Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader (unspecified house)

Warnings: descriptions of blood and violence

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: I don’t normally write for the Marauders, but this was a special request for my best friend Ocean, who has stood by my side for as long as I can remember. I love you Ocean <3

Just a reminder: Y/N is Your Name, and thoughts/flashbacks are in italics.

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @probably-peeves @anchoeritic @theweasleytwinsgirl

if you want to be added to my general or character-specific taglist, send me a dm or an ask!

----

Remus Lupin was a monster; a hideous beast deserving of nothing but a depressing life. A creature doomed to an eternity of rightfully earned misery and isolation. He was nothing more than a savage, barbaric werewolf.

Y/N, Y/L/N was a gorgeous and effervescent girl, who seemingly had the whole world rooting for her. She was exceptionally astute, a skilled and hallowed prefect, and unimaginably beautiful in every sense of the word. Someone who deserved nothing but the best.

While Remus would never believe it, he was the exact antithesis of a monster. To his friends, and to his great surprise, you, he was an altruistic, solicitous, and perceptive boy. A boy who you loved with every fiber of your being. A boy who needed to learn to love himself.

No matter what actions you took or words you sang, Remus sat in denial of your true feelings for him.

“But… why would you love someone like me? You already figured out that I’m a werewolf. I’m a monster, Y/N. You deserve so more than I could ever give to you,” Remus stated somberly. His eyes glistened with tears and were distinctly tinged with self-loathing. His normally soft, caramel locks were disheveled, and his worn Gryffindor uniform was wrinkled.

“Moony,” you started, Remus flinching at the nickname spilling from your lips, “I don’t care that you’re a werewolf. You’re breathtaking to me all the time, full moon or not. You have to understand, you’re not a monster! You’re someone I love. Someone I can’t live without.”

With the last sentence escaping your mouth with a plea, the tears that had been brewing in Remus’ eyes finally dripped down his face freely. He looked so broken, all the concrete walls that he had built up for so long crumbling under your acceptance and love. He was completely and utterly vulnerable.

He couldn’t be bothered to smudge away the translucent tears staining his cheeks, instead his arms instinctively reached to you like an infant, for a tight hug. He clung to your body like a lifeline; your soft and delicate skin drenched with a well-kept cardigan pressed into his aching chest. You felt so comforting in his arms, he could’ve held you forever.

“Y/N… I love you.”

The Great Hall was packed to the rafters with students adorned in varicolored robes, laughs and conversations dancing in one ear and out the other. The ancient, wooden tables were enveloped with pearly plates of every size, each supporting sky-scraping mounds of delicious house elf-made food. You promptly took the vacant seat next to Remus, reserved courtesy of himself, excited to see him after an endless day of droning professors.

James and Sirius were already plotting some sort of devious scheme, probably directed at their fierce rival, a raven-haired fellow fifth year named Severus Snape. You and Remus never became involved with the dastardly pranks, however, instead opting for unbiased pacifism. While a beady-eyed Peter was eagerly lapping up James’ and Sirius’ plans like ice-cold water in a desert, your stunning eyes lovingly locked with Remus’ handsome, mahogany ones.

You were quick to notice that Remus’ loaded plate of food remained untouched all dinner, contrasting the hefty meal residing in your own stomach. The full moon was approaching quickly, and there was no doubt he was worried out of his wits. You subtly motioned for him to pick at his plate, to no avail.

If only he would allow you to comfort him about his monthly transformations. He had always been quick to shut down discussion of anything related to the lupine side of him, no matter how much you begged on your hands and knees for him to open up.

“Remus, you really should eat. It’ll make you feel better, I promise,” you said with a concerned smile. The already troubled expression he wore fell even lower.

“I’m not hungry,” he said softly with strict finality. His face was painted with worry and guilt, a familiar but unpleasant sight. Once he noticed your gaze remained locked on him, he hastily covered up his unhappy expression with a small pseudo-smile.

“Can you at least have a bite of chocolate?” you asked, grabbing a small chuck of delicious candy from a wrapper in your robe pocket. You extended your sugar-filled hand to him expectantly, and he obliged, grabbing the cracked square with annoyance. Once he started chewing on the sweet chocolate, however, his nerves relaxed and his demeanor softened.

“Where’d you get this stuff, darling? Tastes quite good,” he asked, his words barely distinguishable thanks to the silky chocolate that filled his scarred cheeks. The nervous look that previously resided on his face was completely erased, a goofy grin triumphantly taking over.

“I’ll tell you, only if you swear to eat at least a little bit of your dinner,” you said motherly, gesturing your hands towards his plate of cold food. He emitted a sarcastic grumble before spooning some cold mashed potatoes into his mouth. He tried, and failed, to hide his gagging at the taste of the cold mush on his tongue, but he persevered, swallowing a few bites.

“I believe I owe you some chocolate,” you said satisfied, this time removing the whole bar from your inky black cloak pocket. You ensured the bar was wrapped nicely before gingerly giving it to a giddy Remus.

“Now, where can I get myself some of this? They don’t sell it at Honeydukes, do they?” he questioned, before breaking off a bit of the milky chocolate, promptly popping it into his mouth. He kindly shared some extra squares with the other three Marauders, ‘thanks’ repeatedly passed his way.

“It’s homemade, straight from Mum’s kitchen. I get sent some just about every Sunday, so it looks like I’m your only source. Bummer.”

“Oh well. I suppose it’s worth it.” Remus rolled his eyes jokingly, sending a thankful squeeze to your interlocked fingers.

The rest of dinner flowed along effortlessly.

----

Your droopy eyes languidly peeled open, revealing the lazy golden rays of light dancing across the stone walls of your cluttered dorm. The repulsive taste of mucus lingered at the back of your throat, an unwelcome side effect of your restless sleep.

Tonight was the night of the dreaded full moon.

Violent images of a bloody and wounded Remus flashed through your brain, causing a pained whimper to escape your throat. It always shattered your heart to see Remus returning back from a transformation, beaten, limping and broken.

He made every effort to conceal himself returning in that state, cautiously darting to the Hospital wing, not wanting you to see, and subsequently pity him. But unknown to him, the tucked-away broom closet parallel to Madam Pomfrey’s provided a miniscule glance of his disheveled self every dangerously moonlit night.

You sluggishly got up from your bed, a bone-creaking stretch of your arms coupling with a sloth-like yawn following suit. You trudged through quicksand to the bathroom, quickly brushing your teeth to rid your mouth of the unpleasant morning taste that coated your tastebuds.

Not long after, you threw on a comfortable outfit, one of Remus’ worn and oversized t-shirts and some sweatpants. If wearing his clothes could bring him a little joy today, it was worth it.

“I like your shirt today. Looks quite dashing,” you said in a joking tone to the boy sprawled on the crimson-dressed bed below you. Remus was donning a holey, earth-toned t-shirt, topped with a matching unbuttoned, cocoa-colored flannel which complimented his messy mop of hair.

He sat up with an innocent smirk, saying, “It’d look pretty ‘dashing’ on you, too.” Remus’ cheeks gained heat at his bold comment, his mind imagining you wrapped in his clothes. Your goofy smile added to his favorite shirt would be near perfect.

“Wanna test your theory?” you casually asked, tiny droplets of adrenaline coursing through your veins. You were always a bit flustered around Remus, but the prospect of his shirt was too alluring to pass up.

His face morphed into a slightly mischievous grin, and his hands quickly tore off the flannel overshirt that complimented the coveted top underneath. “Turn around for a second.”

You cocked your eyebrow in surprise before complying, pivoting your body away from the changing Remus. You envisioned his bare torso, dotted with sore scars. The exciting ruffling of clothes played behind you in a whisper.

Your eyes begged to sneak a peek, but they listened to Remus’ request, remaining clamped shut until he signaled, “Okay, you can look now.”

The prized brown shirt laid scrunched-up in his lap, his hands busily buttoning the few top buttons of his flannel, which was now stretched across his whole chest. After the flannel was fitted to his satisfaction, he tossed you the shirt with an amused smile.

You promptly slipped it over your head, the familiar and angelic smell of Remus brushing your nostrils. The shirt fit like a potato sack on your body, but to him, you looked ethereal.

Remus wasn’t seen all day, for he was locked up in his dorm, rotting away with anxiety. James, Sirius, and Peter all attempted to get him out of the cage he laid trapped in, but nothing, even the most enticing offers, would make him budge.

He finally emerged from his cave to the common room late into the afternoon, wearing puffy, red eyes with heavy purple bags underneath. You immediately ran to him, arms wrapping tightly around his stiff chest. He released a sigh before reciprocating the hug, a tiny, tired smile, resting on his face.

“Good afternoon to you, too,” he breathily muttered in your ear. Your whole body sprang up with goosebumps at the feeling of his warm breath hitting your skin.

“I’ve been worried sick about you.” Your soft, relieved voice rang through his ears, guilt panging his heart.

“Don’t ever worry about me, honey. I’ll always be okay, and here for you.”

After stepping back from the solacing embrace, the other Marauders were quick to check on him. You stood away from their tight circle by the fire, simply admiring the laugh escaping Remus’ lips at one of James’ jokes.

He’ll be okay, you comfortably told yourself, He’ll always be okay.

However, you failed to consider your own safety.

----

The pale strips of moonlight that shone through the window illuminated your glassy, saucer eyes, accompanied by your heart rapidly banging in your chest like a fast-tempoed timpani. Your arms vibrated with fear, and your ears remained steadily perked, listening for any stray howls reverberating from the Shrieking Shack.

You had tried your best to think positively: at least after tonight, he won’t worry for a while, but the images of a currently suffering Remus swam in your head, swiftly extinguishing your optimism.

Lupine-esque whimpers echoed through your brain, accompanying the ghastly memories of a bloodied Remus, causing your stomach to churn like the sea in a thunderstorm. You were plagued with such intense worry and guilt that you refused to remain idle in your dorm any longer.

If he remained abandoned by you every full moon, the scars that accented his skin would come back even more profound than last month. His chest would be drenched in his own blood, a familiar but nauseating sight. His leg would wobble to class every day just as badly, his knee sore and rigid. You couldn’t just sit and watch him break and heal again every month. Remus needed help.

You stuffed your feather-filled pillows under the duvet of your four-poster in the rough shape of a human body, hopefully convincing as your own. Then, you proceeded to noiselessly creep through your tranquil dorm, the minute tapping of your slippers on the hardwood blending seamlessly with the regular humming of the ancient castle.

After safely out of the dorms and lifeless common room, you dashed to the Gryffindor tower, careful to avoid the observant eyes of patrolling professors. You softly muttered the password to the half-asleep Fat Lady, who you were well acquainted with thanks to the Marauder’s frequent antics.

You tip-toed up the cold, stone steps to the boy dormitories, promptly arriving at the fifth year dorms. You gave the sturdy, wooden door a light rap, crossing your fingers that the notorious night-owls would open up.

Your desperate wish was soon granted, a worried James peeling open the door, revealing the rest of the Marauders sitting in a circle on the rug behind him. “What’s up?” He whispered, a glint of mischief still present in his eyes, “you worried about Moony, too?”

“N- well yes, but I’m not here for a group therapy session. I need your cloak. The invisible one,” you quietly stated, confident and determined.

“What could you possibly be up to? Something tells me it’s not just a trip to the kitchens.” James looked considerably more suspicious, his knuckles’ grip tightening on the door. Sirius got up from his spot on the floor, approaching the door frame.

“Er- just give me the cloak, please? I can’t sit around knowing he’s suffering alone out there. Not anymore.” Your eyes threatened to fill with tears, but you successfully fought to keep them under control.

“Y/N, is this really the best idea? I know you two are ‘in love or whatever’ but is it worth dying for? You and I both know the danger of his condition.” You winced at James’ words before stubbornly nodding, determined to leave with the cloak.

“At least let us go with you. I don’t think Moony would want his girlfriend dying, especially if it was his fault.” Sirius snatched his wand and coat from the nightstand, ready to accompany you to the lupine love of your life.

“I’m sure that there’s no way in hell I could stop you guys, but, please, don’t worry about me. I’m a perfectly capable witch, believe it or not.”

James uneasily handed you the cloak while Sirius gave you a comforting pat on the back. You turned away from the dorm, your mind set on the Shrieking Shack.

----

The fierce wind howled through the towering, spiky trees, not soothing your jittery nerves in the slightest. The previously clear, starry sky was now blanketed with inky storm clouds. The ground occasionally rattled with booming thunder, making your tingly legs shake even more.

Your wand was out and eager to spew spells at any unusual sights or sounds, despite knowing that the only real threat, Remus, resided exclusively in the shack. You gradually inched closer to the Whomping Willow, not exhibiting any Gryffindor-ish traits as you did so.

When you were finally within range of it’s murderous branches, you skillfully levitated a rock to perfectly rest on the trunk’s secret pressure-point, paralyzing its wooden limbs without a sweat. You ducked under it’s ancient roots, running towards the demonic barks that echoed in the distance.

You tore the transparent hood off of your shoulders, dropping it on the porch of the dilapidated house. Your vision blurred with fearful tears, but regardless, you pushed the peeling door of the shack open, scared to see what lay inside.

Musty, forgone furniture was haphazardly thrown around what was presumably the den; deep and fresh claw marks mangled the grimy plush of chairs. Moldy tabletops were smashed in, opaque glass windows were shattered into millions of pieces, and there were unsettlingly large paw prints dotting the rotting floor.

“Remus?” you squeaked, your throat tense and withdrawn. Low, animalistic growls could be heard from the second floor, and with a gulp, you slowly ascended the creaky stairs which groaned under your every movement.

“Remus…?” you repeated at the top of the desolate stairs, this time barely audible. “Moony?”

The level was eerily quiet, making you regret your decisions a hundred times over. You scampered forward, the small beam of white light emitted from the tip of your wand growing shaky with fear. He’s up here, somewhere. Thoughts of a suffering Remus drove you to peer through every room, fearfully expecting to find a helpless, balled up werewolf sitting in the corner.

Each battered bedroom lay devoid of life, disregarding the infestation of cockroaches that resided in the decaying walls. Your legs felt numb and uncontrollable as you stepped to the final bedroom at the end of the hallway. Remus must be in here.

You rolled your wrist around, making sure it was pliant in preparation for the spells that would likely need casting. You pushed the unhinged door to the side, ready to face your lupine boyfriend.

Barbaric, unintelligible noises tickled your ears at a low frequency. You walked silently into the room, the quivering grip on your wand increasing. You stepped further and further into the room, towards the bed that lay broken in the center.

A thunderous snarl from the closet jolted you around, invisible tears pouring down your face. “Remus? Remus, come out, it’s m-me.”

Bloodied claws, sharp as daggers, dug into the aged wood, slowly approaching you like a predator sneaking up on its prey. “Remus, its Y/N. Don’t worry. It’s okay, I’m here.”

Inhuman, savage eyes pierced into your own soaked ones. Not an ounce of your boyfriend was left in the shadowy wolf; the way he slinked towards you viciously, the way bubbly drool fell from his twisted snout, the open wounds that characterized his back.

His demeanor showed no signs of recognition, only ferine instincts ruled his primitive mind. “Remus… it's me…” Your voice cracked with heartbreak, a sob escaping afterwards. Silence, save for the deep, drawn out growls from the werewolf.

“REMUS! REMUS, TELL ME YOU REMEMBER ME? PLEASE, REMUS, PLEASE,” you wailed. Maybe you were yelling to get through to him, or maybe just to hear your own voice over your booming heart that drowned out your thoughts.

Remus left you no time to think, let alone act, as your whittled wand thudded to the floor, and the vicious werewolf’s jaw sunk into your delicate collarbone. Sanguine blood splattered extravagantly across the decrepit room, its hauntingly intricate patterns tainting the rickety bed behind you, turning its dusty white sheets a sickly crimson.

A hoarse shriek rattled through your teeth as the feral canines dug deeper into your shredded flesh. Your vision went blurry, not from the tortured tears spilling from your eyes, but from mind-numbing exhaustion. The last thing you saw before collapsing onto the floor with a groan, your mouth contorted open in pain, was a quick flash of black and brown.

----

“Y/N… I’m so sorry.” Your chest vibrated from the lugubrious sobs escaping Remus’ nauseated throat. His lips and chin was crusted with a rusty red waterfall sourced from his now human teeth, his tousled, sweat-drenched hair rested on your heart. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry...”

“I’m a monster.”

Your dried, bloodshot eyes peeled open, taking in the confusing sight that surrounded you. You were crumpled on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, held by a sobbing, gory Remus. A melancholy James, Sirius, and Peter stood further back, taking in the depressing sight before them.

Languid morning rays shone through the opaque glass of the window, the beams perfectly highlighting the slick trails of blood that dried all over your body. Your shirt was torn to shreds, the collar being the most mangled. Your shoulder stung with the pain of a thousand Crucio-curses.

“Remus… what happened?” you croaked, your throat unwilling to cooperate, its texture like sandpaper. His drenched, brown eyes looked up to you in shock, tears falling down his scarred checks even faster. Last night was nothing but a hazy black blur which made your head pound even thinking about it.

“What happened to me, Remus?”

“I turned you. You’re a monster like me now.”

“I-I don’t think I understand…”

“You came to the Shrieking Shack last night to comfort Remus, and well, he bit you. You’re a werewolf now,” Sirius solemnly said, his gaze pointed to his black Doc Martens. Remus soon ran out of tears to cry, his eyes instead spacing out, his mind drowning out your words and touches.

“I turned you into a werewolf. I’ve sentenced you to the same hell that I live. I’m so sorry, there’s nothing we can do. I’m a monster!” Remus shouted, his shaky voice the most depressing thing that’s ever graced your ears. You sat on the floor, wrapped in Remus’ sorrowful embrace, shocked silence filling the mournful room. Tears subconsciously coated your burning cheeks and chin, fusing with the rust-colored, crusted blood, creating a sickly pink waterfall down your face.

“Remus, it’s okay-”

“No, it's not. Not this time, Y/N. It's all my fault,” he cried, “I swore that I would protect you, protect you from that monstrous side of me, and now look. We’re one and the same. Except that I’m a truly vile being deep down. I should be gone.”

“Being a werewolf isn’t some cool superpower or something; it's a disease! It's a ravaging, dangerous, violent disease; it taints everything, it’s inescapable. A disease that the person that matters the most to me now has, and it’s all my fault! I shouldn’t have come to this school in the first place. I don’t deserve any of this. I deserve to die.”

“Remus John Lupin, don’t you dare say that you deserve anything even remotely close to death! I know being a werewolf is going to be difficult, painful, everything, but at least I have someone to help me! At least I have someone who isn’t just going to leave me on the streets and have me fend for myself. I trust you more than anyone, I know it’s going to be okay, okay? You’re far from a monster, Moony. You’re someone I love,” you choked out, your voice fading with pain.

Remus’ eyes found crystalline tears once again, and you held his bloodied head to your chest, allowing his ears to hear your slow heartbeat, cooing, “It’s okay, it’s okay, I love you. It’s going to be okay, I promise. I’ll survive, we’ll survive, together.”

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bvccy · 3 years

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Tenderness and Ferocity | 6. The Last Day

Pairing: Winter Soldier!Bucky Barnes x Hydra!Reader Fic Synopsis: The Winter Soldier is starting to make stupid mistakes in the field, which is Bucky's way of trying to wrest back control and sabotage his handlers. Hydra brings a new doctor to figure out what's wrong with him and fix it. As she spends time with him, she becomes fond of the Winter Soldier, and he becomes fond of her. Bucky has other ideas. Or, a fic in which the Winter Soldier is the good guy and Bucky is actually the bad guy. Warnings for this chapter: Angst, some Violence Word count: 1858 Read on AO3: [link] [Previous Chapter] [Fic Masterlist] [Next Chapter]

"To get everything you want is not a good thing. Disease makes health seem sweet. Hunger leads to the appreciation of being full-fed. Tiredness creates the enjoyment of resting."

— Heraclitus

She wasn't supposed to be in the office on that day, at that hour. She spent all of the previous day mismanaging her tasks and various paperwork to create the plausibility of needing overtime. It was easy enough to convince one of her friends to drive her to the Headquarters, and she picked one that had no family just in case Hydra got overzealous… later.

One small mercy was that the whole building was mostly empty, except for the bare-bones of military personnel and the medical staff getting the Asset ready. They were due to fly him out late at night, and the sun was low in the sky.

The few staff who were there were surprised to see her, but she reassured them with easy smiles and a ditzy attitude that everything was fine. The Director was still in a meeting, said Suzi at the front desk, but he'd been there for hours and should be out any minute. And the Asset? "In his cell."

She went into her office like it was any other day, put on her lab coat, put her things the same place she usually did, and took only what she needed.

The way to the Soldier's cell was something she had mapped out a few days ago, first out of curiosity, then determination — and while she was at it, took note of a few more interesting pathways through the facility. The only thing to worry about were the guards.

"I'm here for a final evaluation before he's in the field."

"We weren't informed about that."

"Then go ahead and call the Director. I'm sure the Standard Operating Procedures are foremost in his mind."

The two guardsmen looked at each other, silently goading the other to pick up the radio while she nervously twirled a syringe with one hand, clenched a well-loved page in her pocked with the other.

"Go on, call him."

"…Door opened."

Her Soldier was waiting on the bed in his frightening black gear, hands clenched, feet apart, looking ready to pounce. He must have heard her coming a corridor away, and once he finally saw her there, his face broke into the most brilliant smile.

She grinned and snuck in the corner, right beneath the view of the camera. Silently, she beckoned him closer and uncapped the syringe, nodding to the men outside. He subdued them easily enough and, without even asking what she was thinking, followed her out: down the winding corridors, through parts stuck in reconstruction, in and out of the large dark meeting rooms she had the keys for.

They inevitably met a few guards on patrol, which the Asset could hear much in advance. When he first stopped her, arm out and hard which nearly took the wind out of her, she was frightened for a moment that he'd changed his mind. But he kept his eyes straight ahead, and she could tell by looking at him that he was listening intently.

With a feline slink, he stepped back and kept her behind him, further, further, into the doorway of a locked room while he holstered the guns they took from his keepers. She held onto him and steadied her breath against his back while he waited, silent as a statue, for the right moment. The men reached and passed them by, only just noticing him when it was too late — when one had his neck broken and the other was knocked out.

"Turn." he told her. She faced the wall without thinking and only heard a fleshy crack as he caved in the man's skull. Then he took her hand in his and led her away.

When there were too many at once, five of them approaching from somewhere to the left, he had them both crouch down in wait until the targets passed by the mouth of their corridor. They probably couldn't even see her, a minuscule target shielded behind him, as he steadily took them down with a shot to the head before they could even reach for their coms. The sound echoed through the emptiness, but she assured him they were almost out.

Within minutes, they reached a long white corridor, more civilian looking than the rest. At its end, an open door leading to a vast field and rows of jeeps and busses.

"We've made it." she laughed breathlessly, looking up to find him still tense and alert but smiling with her.

One leaping step after another and suddenly, in one breath, he was out. He had been out before, of course, but never like this. The coolth of the evening in early spring soothed his flushed skin as he walked out over the blackened earth and melting snow, a pale sun dipping beyond the horizon.

The Soldier already eyed a vehicle that looked good for the terrain, easy to hijack, small enough to be dumped somewhere once they were far enough away to start covering their tracks. He turned around to see her catching her breath as she took in the sight of him with pride, and relief, and some fear. She threw a chain of keys at him and he caught it mid-air.

"They're colour-coded with the jeeps. If you go South, in 15 miles there's an apartment complex. That's where the staff lives, keep driving. There are trackers on all the cars, but they stop transmitting beyond a 70 mile radius. Nearest settlement is 90 miles South-Southwest, an old fishing town."

"What?"

"The gate behind you, further that way, it'll be locked by now but the hinges are old and rusted."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"So you can escape, of course."

"But you're coming with me."

"I can't."

It was then that he noticed she hadn't stepped a foot outside, standing in the doorway at the very edge, one hand holding onto the frame. The rest of the facility was open behind her, a hungry maw empty and quiet.

"What do you mean you can't? Come with me."

"I took a oath. I can't leave my post unless dismissed or dead." she recited with chill equipoise.

Just like in the bad old days, the Soldier felt madness creeping in. "Then why let me go?"

"Hydra serves a noble goal, but what they were doing to you was wrong. They've never understood that, because they don't want to, because it's not convenient right now."

In the distance, through layers of concrete, he could hear them shouting to each other, panicking, having found the bodies. It wouldn't take long for them to figure it out.

"You know what they'll do to you…" he said, coming closer and just about ready to grab her but stopping, for now, right in front. The heat radiating off his body kept the evening breeze away and warmed her.

She felt the same horror he felt, but just shook her head. "I have to keep my honour."

"You don't need honor, you're just a dame!"

She cracked a smile at his odd choice of words, the unintended slight washing over her, 'just a…'. "Then why does it matter what happens to me?"

He placed his arms on either side, crowding her in the doorway and poised to pull her out. The shouting was always getting closer, she should start to hear it soon. "Because you're mine."

The smile paled from her lips and he thought he had finally gotten through. She looked around, searching for something and moved slightly closer, almost in his arms… And then a wall of metal bars came up at the push of a button, her sad face left in its penumbra. He gripped them instantly and started pulling.

"It's no use, even your arm isn't enough to break them." she consoled, placing her hands on his fists as much for his benefit as for her own. But he wouldn't let go and obstinately shook his head, mute with anger and going through any number of wild schemes in his head that could break her out.

"You know… I've always loved perfection, which is so well embodied in you." she spoke, leaning forward and holding his gaze. "They couldn't destroy you. They could only displace you, for a while. They can't destroy me either." she tried to comfort him. "Nothing can be destroyed. So don't worry."

He wanted to argue with her that it wasn't the same thing at all, that she was crazy, that it could be so bad, so much worse than she could imagine. As if reading his mind, she smiled and shook her head, and gave him a small kiss from between the bars. Then she turned around in a white flutter and ran away, down the corridor, further inside, the echo of her high heels clipping on the concrete drowned out by his angry shouts. She disappeared around the corner to the right, head kept intently down and not daring to look at him again. She kept one hand in her pocket, secretly caressing that white page with the clock he'd drawn for her.

The Soldier shook at the cage that stood in his way until he heard the boots and rattling of ammo one door away, and a gate opening further afield, outside. When the first shot rang and hit above his head, he turned and emptied what was left of a cartridge into the guardsman without even thinking. Then in an instant, one thoughtless instinct moved his body to the vehicle he had picked earlier. He planned to go back for her, but a thought in his head said: Later. The black car keys went in, just like she said, and he quickly found himself driving away. Now he just needed to find another way into the building. Sure, later.

One hand on the steering wheel, he took aim at the hinges of the closed gate in front and blew them loose enough for him to speed through and break it open, while shots rang out behind him. Maybe it was the air or the temperature outside, but he suddenly noticed just how heavy his left arm was, how cold, and how rigid. He didn't mean to drive very far, just far enough that he'd be out of sight and could circle around another way. He had to go back for her. Just a little bit later.

He navigated the half-frozen terrain to cross the 70 miles in well under an hour, the sound of his pursuers long faded away. He ditched the car in an overgrown ravine, and by midnight he reached the sleepy town she'd mentioned. His heart could finally afford to shrivel in his chest at the realisation that he hadn't gone back, and she wasn't there.

She must have known this place, must have seen once what he was seeing now, stepped on the same dirt road, breathed a different air under the shelter of the same sky — once, longer ago, before she knew him. His feet carried him on as his mind stayed behind and he struggled with himself, and with the burden of her last request — to not worry anymore.

Tagging: @chipilerendi @themaskismyface

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draw-n-vent-with-imani · 3 years

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Nothing Much

a patb fanfic (originally posted on AO3 by your truly)

Summary: Friends treat friends the way they'd want to be treated on their birthday.

Wednesday wasn’t a particularly special day. It’s the middle of a long, laborious week filled with lab tests, pondering, and executing plans to take over the world. If it was a decent day, cheese would be given, minus the electric tang often added in the maze. An even better day might allow the creatures of Acme Labs a sigh of relief if it was a holiday. Other than those exceptions, Wednesday doesn’t hold any special value that makes it better than Tuesday, Thursday, or Saturday.

But THIS Wednesday was important for one mouse in particular, and Brain knew he owed his friend that much. Pinky needed at least one day out of the year where something went according to plan, and Brain was going to succeed, no questions asked.

It was roughly 5AM and Brain had been lying awake for some time. Pinky wasn’t much of an early bird, so he was sound asleep, hugging a piece of lint close to his chest as he laid in his own bed of hay. Brain glanced at his companion to confirm he’d remain asleep as he picked himself up off the bed. Tiptoeing all the way to the water bottle, he ripped a piece of tape that was stuck to it. He had placed a folded piece of paper on the back of the water bottle the night before in preparation for this very moment.

Placing it neatly by the cage door, Brain used his zig-zaggy tail to pick the lock. He knew that if he left now, he’d be back just before Pinky woke for his morning run. With that, he closed the door and maneuvered throughout the laboratory to the exit, picking up his stash of money left by one of the computer monitors on the counter. He took one last look up at the cage his friend snoozed in before finally leaving the room as the early morning sun shined through the window.

The image of fairies and talking cheese quickly faded from Pinky’s mind as he began to awaken. He opened his eye just a bit, but it was enough to blind it by the sunlight beaming right onto his face. The mouse quickly closed and rubbed his eyes, an after image left on them in the shape of a skinny rectangle. It reminded Pinky of the time he and Brain had wandered through that big maze with the chip. He licked his lips thinking about the dip they never found, finally opening his eyes. He was laying on his side facing a bunch of beakers filled with different chemicals. “Egad! Do you think if we collect more colors and combine them, we can make a rainbow and find a pot of gold, Bra-” Pinky asked, but then turned to find an empty bed next to him.

“Brain? Where’d you go? Brain?” Pinky yelled out, looking around the cage. His eyes rested on his wheel where he’d sometimes see Brain leaning on it as he looked over his plans. A worried “Poit” escaped his lips as he walked towards the wheel.

“Well…” He tried to put a positive spin on Brain’s absence. “He’ll probably be back. I can watch tv now without being a bother! Troz!” He reaches outside the cage bars and presses the power button on the television remote. As the tv powered on, Pinky started to sit back down when a piece of paper on the cage floor caught his eye. It was a light pink color that glowed almost hypnotically in the morning light.

Pinky picked up the paper and unfolded it, realizing it was a card. He looked at the front of it, reading “To Pinky” out loud. A big smile grew on his face as he opened the card, proceeding to read out the whole message:

“For every plan that fails, you never cease to amaze me. From your boundless enthusiasm to your constant praise. Even at my darkest hour, you stayed by my side. For two laborious years, you’ve been my faithful partner and loyal friend, and I couldn’t have asked for a better cagemate…”

Pinky stopped only to wipe away the tears that obstructed his vision. Before he could continue, a voice from behind him proceeded to read the rest.

“I may not say this enough, but you’re my best friend and I...I…”

Pinky turned around in excitement to see his dear friend behind him. Brain was holding a miniature cake decorated with green and pinky frosting with the words “Happy Birthday, Pinky” written across the top in gold frosting. And while he tried to hide behind it, the cake wasn’t big enough to cover his bright red cheeks that seemed to get redder by the second. Brain tried his best to continue.

“You’re my best friend...and I...I...tolerate you more than anyone else.” Brain shone like a cherry as he hung his head down low. He just couldn’t bring himself to say those words. To his surprise, when he looked up, Pinky was standing a few inches away from him, lifting the cake from him, lifting the cake from his hands. He watched him place the cake on the floor and sweep him off his feet in a tight embrace.

“Did you really mean all those nice, warm thingies, Brain?” Pinky asked, absentmindedly messing with Brain’s ear.

“Of course, Pinky. Why would I write it if it weren’t the truth?” Brain silently wished for the hug to end before his face turned any redder.

Pinky sighed happily, gently putting Brain back on the ground. Brain cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck before shoving both of his hands into his pockets. “Let’s eat this beautiful cake!” Pinky said, picking up the cake and sitting the card down. As Brain walked quickly to catch up to his friend, the card fell on its side to reveal the last sentence the card held.

I may not say this enough, but you’re my best friend and I love you. Happy 2nd Birthday.

Yours Truly, Brain

#patb fanfic #patb #pinky and the brain #the brain #pinky #not necessarily brinky #but i made it open-ended enough for it to go both ways #its the best of both worlds now #made this back in july and decided only now to post the text on here

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sunflowersteves · 4 years

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never letting go || r.m.

author’s note || I’m reposting it since it didn’t appear on tags so hopefully it works. @xxxtwilightaxelxxx i hope you enjoy! also this is not related to the originals or vampire diaries! this was fun to write so thank you for the request :)

warnings || almost character death, blood, gore, angst, fluff

Main Masterlist

A cough croaked involuntarily from your mouth, dust, and debris floating in the air. You try to stand up, to see if anyone around you was okay, but you couldn’t. You raise your head and groan, noticing your leg was stuck under a large piece of wood. Rapid searing pain shot down your leg, and you could see a bit of fresh blood coming out of the wound.

You know you shouldn’t have messed with anything—messed with Klaus. You should’ve known that he would’ve tried to get you to meet your demise.

You pushed the wrong buttons of the wrong person. Ultimately, he just wanted to protect his sister, which you knew. And with Klaus being Klaus, the only way he knew how was through violence.

However, that still doesn’t excuse any of his murderous actions that he’s sent your way.

Rebekah could date whomever she wanted to and love whomever she wanted to. Klaus maybe her brother, but she was still her own person. She could make her own decisions even if that means dating a human.

“Sister, you can’t be with a human.”

Rebekah scoffed at her brother and rolled her eyes. He sneered at the two of you when she wrapped an arm around your waist.

“She can do what she wants Klaus. You’re not in control of her as much as you think you are.”

Both Rebekah and Klaus’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. None of her past lovers had stood up to him like that--none that were human anyway. Every human that Rebekah had dated previously, always ran away from her when Klaus got involved.

Klaus was always relieved when she came to their family home and a human was wrapped around her finger. He could count on their fear to take over, and they’d run away.

However, that stopped with you.

“What did you just say, mortal?”

His vampire speed caught up with you, his gold eyes and sharp teeth were threatening you. Your heartbeat had quickened slightly at the sudden movement, however, you remained as unaffected as possible.

You stared into his hybrid eyes, looking almost bored. You knew that it only made him angrier, he looked like he was seething. Your eyes left him to look at Rebekah and saw her standing in front of you. She was blocking his path and you knew she was going to protect you with her life.

Klaus's glare flickered towards you again, “watch your back, little human.” And with that, he sped off in the opposite direction of the house.

In all truth, you didn’t want to be a vampire; you didn’t want an immortal life. You wanted to grow old someday and then have a grave next to that person.

Nevertheless, you knew what you signed up for when you started a relationship with her. At this point in your relationship, you knew that if you needed to, that you would let her turn you in a heartbeat.

You hadn’t said those three little words to Rebekah yet. It’d been hard with your last lover, considering that they weren’t all too kind and loving. Luckily, Rebekah knew of your situation and was there every step of the way. She never pressured you or made you rush into things, which you were always appreciative of.

However, now you were tangled in the Mikaelson family. You had pissed off Klaus for telling him off and defending your girlfriend.

You cursed to yourself as excruciating pain intensified on your chest. Your eyes trailed up to your chest to see more fresh, running blood coming out. You could feel something poking and prodigy into your chest—into the crevice of your rib cage.

“What’s this?”

Elijah looked over at you in intrigue. On the bar table was a small velvet box, just big enough for a ring. You nodded at the box, indicating that he should open to see what’s inside. His eyes flickered over to you and then to the small box, carefully opening it.

“A wedding ring? You haven’t even told each other your affections.”

You laughed towards the Original Vampire and shook your head, taking the small box back from him and placing it back in your pocket. You took a sip of your whiskey, letting it burn the back of your throat before continuing.

“It’s a promise ring. With my ex, I was never really shown any love. She would always tear me down every second that she got. That’s why I wanted to take things slow with Rebekah. I was scared of the same thing happening to her but I don’t want to be afraid anymore. I just want to be in love.”

“Do you?”

You fully down the rest of your whiskey, relishing in the bitter taste. You turned towards the vampire with a confused look on your face.

“What?”

Elijah let out a breath. Your first thought was that of annoyance but then you saw the bright smile on his face as he turned towards you.

“Do you love her?” You looked over at him with a smile graced upon your lips. He could hear your heartbeat start to rise.

“More than I’ve ever loved before.”

After your conversation with Elijah, he left you alone at the bar. Hayley had called him about getting groceries and something to do with the baby. So he bid you goodbye and off he went.

You just wished he stayed a bit longer and maybe you would be able to get help. Maybe you wouldn’t be stuck under a log and a piece of debris lodged into your chest. Maybe Klaus wouldn’t have ignited the bomb if he knew his brother was in there with you.

You couldn’t help but let a few tears slip down your cheeks. Was this how you were going to die? You didn’t even get a chance to tell the one girl you love how you feel. A hiccup places itself upon your lips as more tears roll down your cheeks.

You let out an air of relief as a bystander ran into the destroyed bar yelling for any survivors. You screamed over at them to help you and they called the ambulance immediately. However, you were putting up a fight. Sure, you needed medical attention but it seems that all you could muster up was:

“I need to see her.”

You limped up to the Mikaelson house, wincing a bit as you walked up the steps. It was honestly amazing how much your body was resilient. The wrath and adrenaline that was surging through you was keeping you alive and awake.

The only thing crossing your mind was Rebekah and the disdain for Klaus. Your emotions were raging out and you needed Klaus to see you—alive. You needed that satisfaction that he couldn’t kill you, despite being mortal.

“I’m sorry, sister, she was in that accident.” Klaus’s voice was mixed with faux sweetness and sorrow. What made your heart clench was the loud cries coming from Rebekah and her screams in anguish only got louder.

You slammed open the door with your arm and everyone had their eyes locked on yours. Klaus’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at the fact that you were standing before them with crusted blood and wooden wreckage.

Rebekah ran towards you and enveloped you in a hug, her soft cries loud in your ears. You tried to hold her as good as you could but it was hard from the pain. You whispered sweet nothings into her ear as she calmed down—your presence and being alive had already soothed her pain.

“Couldn’t kill me, Klaus? A little Ole mortal like me has bested you.”

You could hear the feral growl escape his throat and before he could take any step closer, Rebekah put herself in front of you with her hand wrapped around your wrist.

“You’re such a coward, brother. I understand that you’re protective but this? You intentionally killed my love. She’s not like the others, don’t you get that? She’s understanding and brace and kind unlike you.”

You grit your teeth as a tiny second of pain flashed across his face. Blood now coated your mouth, your teeth were outlined in the red liquid. You tried to speak in rage towards your lovers brother but you suddenly became fainter. Rebekah quickly caught on and turned around, giving you all her attention.

“You’re bleeding—how long have you been hiding this?!”

You sadly smile at Rebekah, feeling weaker and weaker as you stand. You tried to open your mouth and the rest of her siblings could only watch in shock at your fate. You reach out to her as you go limp, your legs failing you at that moment. She swiftly catches you in her arms and holds you as close as possible.

She swiftly runs to the couch as Elijah and Hayley move every little piece of junk off of it. She gently laid you down on the cushion surface and yelled for someone to go get an aid kit. Her hands were softly stroking your hair as she tried to keep you awake.

Elijah finally ran over with an aid kit and tried his best to clean the blood but it seemed as if everything was running out of time. You turned towards Rebekah and gripped her hand tightly.

“I love you.”

Rebekah leaned in and placed soft kisses upon your lips and cheeks. She squeezed your hand a bit harder.

“This isn’t goodbye.”

She continued to give you little kisses and tears ran down her cheeks. She wanted so badly to save you but she knew that you didn’t want to be immortal. She respected your wishes more than hers.

“Say it, baby. I don’t have much time.” Elijah and Hayley were trying their hardest to locate the lodged debris in your lungs but nothing seemed to be working. Rebekah screamed at them to try harder but you shushed her, making her turn your attention towards you.

Tears slipped down her cheeks as she continued to hold you, your breath becoming more shallow. She kept shaking her head every time you asked her to say those three words. She didn’t want to lose you, she couldn’t.

“I need you to live…because if you’re gone then, I don’t know what the point of it all is anymore.”

A smile graces your lips as you try to pull something out of your pocket but the pain is too much. She reaches over for you and takes it out, gasping at the little velvet box. She puts the promise ring on her finger and presses a sweet kiss to your lips.

Tears well in her eyes again at the thought of losing you like this. She thinks hard about the decision she’s about to make and the consequences, but she can’t lose you.

“I love you, y/n. I’m sorry.”

You open your mouth in confusion and watch as she sinks her sharp teeth into her wrist. Blood seeps out and she presses it onto your lips. You try and not let the copper-tasting liquid in but she forces more into your mouth.

Your eyes flutter close, and you let yourself drink the thick liquid. You could already feel it working, and your wound seemed to heal by the second. She lets her wrist off of your mouth and watches as you already start to look much better.

After a couple of minutes of letting the blood heal, you pick yourself up, and push her into a bone-crushing hug.

“Glad you already feel better, human.”

You couldn’t even react before Klaus vampire sped over to your now healed form. Rebekah tried to run over to you but Klaus was too fast. He gripped your neck with his large hands and twisted your neck —breaking it in two.

All you could hear was the cracking sound that your bones made, and the screams that filled your room. Your vision turned black, and you hit the ground with a thud, letting the darkness take over.

“Now you can be together forever, sister.”

#rebekah mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson fanfiction #rebekah mikaelson x reader #rebekah mikaelson x fem!reader #fxf #klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson fanfic #vampire diaries #vampire diaries request #vampire diaries fanfiction #vampire diaries fanfic #originals #originals fanfiction #originals fanfic #female x female

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little-diable · 4 years

Text

Hold up - Klaus Mikaelson (angst/smut)

Hey babe, I wanted to ask for a one shot with Klaus mikaelson inspired by beyonce "hold up" specifically the lyrics "let's imagine for a moment that you never made a name for yourself or mastered wealth they had you labeled as a king, never had the baddest women in the game up in your sheets, they used to lie to hide from ya lied to ya, but y'all know we remained for eachother so I found you and hold you down" pleaaaaaaaase, thank you so much

Damn love, thank you for this request, I am OBSESSSSSED with the song, makes me feel powerful haha. Enjoy. xxx

Hold up, they don't love you like I love you Slow down, they don't love you like I love you Back up, they don't love you like I love you Step down, they don't love you like I love you Can't you see there's no other man above you? What a wicked way to treat the girl that loves you Hold up, they don't love you like I love you Oh, down, they don't love you like I love you

Being with Klaus Mikaelson was something special, he could be the most loving partner, could handle you with kid gloves, but he could also be ruthless, arrogant and insensitive. He was a flirt, liked to be surrounded by beautiful women, to be appreciated like the king he thought he was, but of course, a king would be nothing without his queen, even though, Klaus seemed to forget about that from time to time. (Y/n) had been by his side from the start, treated him with kindness, tried to support him through all his fights, she kept him grounded, but (y/n) wasn't a fool, by now she knew how to keep him in check, at least that’s what she thought.

Klaus eyes were focused on the girl that was talking to him, a blondie that went by the name Caroline, (y/n) cringed at the sight, a smirk tugged on Klaus eyes as heard Carolines laugh, his hands slightly moved up and down her arm. (Y/n) slammed her glass down on the table top, collected her stuff and walked out of the bar towards the Mikaelsons mansion. She held her head high, jealousy flooded through her veins, the want to rip the blonde girl to shreds intensified by the second.

Something don't feel right because it ain't right Especially comin' up after midnight I smell your secrets, and I'm not too perfect To ever feel this worthless How did it come down to this? Scrolling through your call list I don't wanna lose my pride, but I'ma fuck me up a bitch Know that I kept it sexy, you know I kept it fun There's something that I'm missing, maybe my head for one

It was past midnight as Klaus walked through the door, his hair was a mess, his eyes glistered in the light, (y/n) smelled Carolines perfume on him, an uneasy feeling settled in her gut as she watched him get ready for bed, the smirk on his lips as prominent as ever. She waited till he was fast asleep, rose from the bed and walked out of the house, it was time to set the blonde Forbes girl straight, the want to get revenge clouded her senses.

(Y/n) had Caroline pressed against her bedroom wall, “do I need to repeat myself?”, she whispered against her neck, inhaling her strawberry scent. (Y/n) eyes were pitch black, the veins underneath her eyes began to form as she tightened the grip on Carolines neck, “no, I get it.”, she whispered, scared that the old vampire would rip her into shreds. “Good.”, (y/n) rasped out as she vanished from Carolines sight, a devilish smirk on her lips as she walked towards the mansion, she felt powerful.

What's worst, lookin' jealous or crazy? Jealous or crazy? Or like being walked all over lately, walked all over lately I'd rather be crazy

“What did you do?”, Klaus had her pinned against the mattress of their shared bed, his jaw was clenched, eyes black as he watched her emotionless features, “what are you talking about?”, a smirk tugged on her lips as she wrapped her legs around his middle and switched them around, she was now straddling her boyfriend. “Don’t play games with me, (y/n).”, Klaus voice was laced with anger and something else (y/n) couldn’t pin down, “oh”, (y/n) dipped her head down and licked a stripe up his neck, “are you talking about your toy? Caroline?”, she bit his jawline.

A growl escaped his lips as she grasped his hands and pinned them together, “I told her not to mess with me and that you’re mine, mine alone, Klaus.”, her (y/e/c) eyes were focused on his black ones, eyebrows furrowed together as he watched her, the forming bulge in his trousers throbbed against her core. (Y/n) couldn’t hold back her laugh as he struggled against her hold, “oh Klaus, you should know by now, that they don’t love you like I love you.”, she pressed her lips against his, a moan escaped her as she tasted him on her tongue.

The original was done with her games, he bit her lower lip, drawing some blood, and switched her around once again, “are you jealous, my love?”, Klaus kissed the spot beneath her ear, her hands tangled themselves in his locks, tugging on his roots. (Y/n) didn’t answer him, she kept her mouth shut as he pressed open mouthed kisses down her neck, sucking on her collarbones, hands tightly gripping her hipbones, keeping her caged between his body and the mattress.

Let's imagine for a moment that you never made a name for yourself Or mastered wealth, they had you labeled as a king Never made it out the cage, still out there movin' in them streets Never had the baddest woman in the game up in your sheets Would they be down to ride? No They used to hide from you, lie to you But y'all know we were made for each other So I find you and hold you down Me sing se

“There’s nothing to be jealous of Klaus. We both know, that you’d be nothing without me. Do you really think, that all these women fancy you, just because of your looks?”, a humorless laugh escaped her lips, Klaus came to a halt, eyes slowly finding hers, “Oh no, you didn’t really think these women were genuinely interested in you, did you? They are simply using you for your reputation, our reputation, love.”. She enjoyed to see him struggle, it seemed as if suddenly Klaus truly understood what she was trying to tell him, he let go of her, confusion clouded his mind.

Wordlessly she grasped his wrist and pulled him in for another kiss, she wasn’t done with him, oh no. (Y/n) ran her hand over his throbbing length, he groaned against her lips as she opened the button from his trousers and pulled out his member. It didn’t take them long to get rid of their clothing, hands gripping each other, mouths leaving marks, passionate sounds escaping them. “You’re mine, mine alone.”, (y/n) repeated herself as she tasted his precum, his salty taste was heavy on her tongue. Klaus left marks everywhere he tasted her, he placed her against the bed as his fingers pumped in and of her clenching heat, the both of them enjoyed makeup sex way too much.

“I need to feel you around me.”, she could tell that he was angry, jaw clenched, the fire was burning in his eyes, Klaus ran his tip through her folds, coating himself with her arousal. He thrusted into her, not giving her any time to adjust to his length, a deep moan left her lips as she scratched her nails up his spine, Klaus kept on pumping in and out of her, eyes shut as she began to clench around him. He could feel her smirk against his neck, Klaus was ready to fuck her into oblivion, ready to prove to her, that he had the upper hand in their relationship, no matter what she thought.

Her tits bounced as he picked up his speed, forcefully his hips brushed against her own ones, “you’re so tight around me, fuck, love”, an animalistic sound left him as he snapped his hips forward. Klaus circled his thumb around her sensitive clit, (y/n) eyes rolled backwards, the sensation was getting too much, he moved his thumb towards her lips, making her taste her own arousal. His name left her mouth over and over again, falling from her lips like a prayer, Klaus knew that she was close, the way her back was arched against his front, her eyes shut, her pussy had a vice grip on his cock.

Hey, this such a shame You let this good love go to waste I always keep the top tier, 5 star Backseat lovin' in the car Like make that wood, like make that wood Holly like a boulevard

“You’re not allowed to cum yet.”, he switched her around, ignoring her protests as he kept on fucking her from behind, his balls slapped against her enlarged clit, one hand ran up her spine, towards her head, gripped her hair and pulled her backwards. “You’ve been a naughty girl, did you really think that you had the upper hand in this?.”, she bit her lip, goosebumps graced her skin as Klaus kept on forcefully snapping his hips against hers.

(Y/n) tightly gripped the pillow, she wasn’t quite sure how much longer she could prolong her orgasm, pearls of sweat began to pool on her forehead, his nose was pressed against her neck, fangs gazing the area, as he sunk his teeth into her skin a high pitched moan left her lips, the copper taste brought him much closer to his own release.

What's worse, lookin' jealous or crazy? Jealous and crazy? Or like being walked all over lately, walked all over lately I'd rather be crazy

“Cum for me, love.”, he rasped out as he felt his length twitch inside of her, his teeth buried in her neck as his pace began to falter. Her pussy fluttered around him, “oh god, Klaus.”, her head fell forward against the pillow, the soft material muffled her screams. Seeing her like this, wrecked, blood seeping out of her wound, completely at his mercy, triggered his own release, ropes of hot cum spurted into her. “Jesus fuck, love.”, he breathed out, Klaus momentarily leaned forward, his head pressed against the small of her back.

Slowly Klaus pulled out of her, his own juices mixed with her, dripped down onto the bed sheets as he cradled her against his sweaty chest. She tried to calm herself down, his fingers rubbed soothing motions into her hot skin, “I’m sorry, (y/n).”, he whispered, eyes focused on her trembling figure. (Y/n) nodded against his chest, her hands grasped his chin and pulled him in for another kiss, “just please, for the sake of both of us, keep it in your pants in the future.”.

#klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaleson imagine #klaus mikaelson x reader #Klaus mikaelson smut #Klaus imagine #Klaus x reader #the originals #tvd #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries imagine #joseph morgan #beyonce #hold up #tvd imagine #Caroline forbes #Klaus mikaelson angst

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softbiker · 4 years

Text

Bucky Barnes Oneshot

Warnings: 18+ only - smut (oral, f/r), cursing, unsanitary kitchen conditions

Word count: 3.2k

A/N: This is my Valentine’s Day gift to all of you! You’re welcome ;) Apparently I’m in a writing rut and the only thing that can get me out is writing smut...I’m not going to question it. As always, feedback is appreciated! <3

Post-mission, post-debrief, post-shower.

Pre-dinner, pre-Netflix binge, pre-dessert.

Bucky swipes at the fogged mirror with a towel, leaving streaks that slightly reveal his own damp skin and dripping hair. A harsh breath blows past his lips as he examines the planes of his own skin, leaning forward into the mirror. His whiskers have grown out over the last few days, unable to shave due to forgetting his razor, and he refused to share with Natasha’s legs, in spite of her insistence that she wouldn’t mind. There’s a nice shiner blooming under his right eye, bright purple-red on his cheekbone - lucky swing of some thug’s fist. Didn’t land a second hit, though.

Towel around his waist, not yet dressed, the drops from the tips of his hair drip down his shoulders as he continues to frown at his reflection, fingers rubbing absently at the scratchy new growth on his cheeks. Should he shave? Eyelids already growing a little heavy, breath slow - he doesn’t want to. He wants to slip on his pajamas and go find her in the kitchen; he knows she’s there, he can smell the pressed garlic and hear the light pad of her toes as she shuffles around, swaying to her music. The corner of his mouth twitches just a little, and he reaches down, digging in the second drawer for his shaving cream. He’ll go ahead. She’ll like it.

The cold lather on his skin and the scrape of the razor wakes him up just a little; the fog on the mirror slowly fading and his hair drying in soft waves that he curls behind his ears. Lips pursed as he turns, examining his profile, whistling a soft tune - something jazzy and familiar, more muscle memory than anything. The back of his mind buzzes with swing music and cigarettes, another lifetime, another man. A man he sees reflected back in the glass, right before his eyes, as he pats down his now-smooth cheeks with a towel, soft skin flushed a little with the cold water and the friction of cotton. He gives himself a slow nod in the mirror, rolling his shoulders, and takes a slow breath.

Rubbing his hands together, his whistling turned to a low hum in his throat, he shuffles out to the chest of drawers for his boxers and pajama pants; her music comes drifting through the doorway, something poppy with a good beat, the singer’s smooth voice weaving up and down through the lyrics. Beneath the music, he can hear his girl humming along, a word or two passing her lips as she mouths along to the melody. Bucky smiles to himself. Time to go see about a girl.

**********

Another pinch of salt…maybe two pinches. She dips her pinkie into the spoon and takes a small taste of the sauce, tongue smacking as she examine the flavor. Definitely more garlic. She reaches for the pressed cloves on the cutting board, sprinkling them into the pan. The sauce sizzles and bubbles as she stirs, nearly ready to add the tortellini. She turns the burner down low and whirls around to the island, where the standing mixer has done most of the work on her brownies. A moment’s deliberation, and then she adds in the caramel bits she was saving, debating whether or not to toss them in the batter. She pops one of the morsels into her mouth, thinking “why not?”.

Her phone is propped up next to her bluetooth speaker, shuffling a fun new pop album, and she shimmies her hips as she steps back to the stove, reaching for the tortellini. The shower had shut off several minutes ago - surely Bucky would be ready to eat soon. Poor thing, he was always ravenous after missions, surviving on protein bars and takeout; his pitiful texts bemoaning his hunger and how much he missed her cooking always ensured a piping hot home cooked meal on his arrival. Tonight’s menu? Pasta and chocolate, a $7 wine chilling in the fridge; he always liked rich food, the heavy flavors so unlike the boiled and bland taste of his childhood. In the 21st century, he had abandoned the bare bones nutrition of his Depression kitchen in favor of a wide array of modern culinary miracles. She enables him a little, all too happy to see his eager, excited puppy eyes at the prospect of a new recipe; all too weak to his boyish pout at the grocery store when something brightly colored and full of sugar catches his eye.

“I need this, babydoll - it’s got Steve’s picture on the front! I could win a chance to meet Captain America!”

“You see him every day!”

“Yeah, but the sweepstakes includes a cash prize, too! C’mon, honey, please?”

Yep. Total enabler.

The song changes from a slower track to a faster one, the album’s title song and catchy as all hell, she bobs her head along and dances back and forth in front of her pasta, now finished, just waiting for-

On cue, a pair of hands slide around to grip her hips mid-sway, a firm chest pressing up against her back.

“What’s cookin’, hot stuff?” His lips grinning against her ear, pressing a little kiss to the skin just beneath. Strong fingers give her hips an affectionate squeeze as he sways them a little in time with her music.

“Tortellini. With that homemade sauce you liked last time.” Tipping her head over her shoulder, she shares a light kiss with him, lips lifting in a sweet smile - the best ‘welcome home’ a man could ask for. When she tries to pull away he leans in, presses firmer, holding onto the kiss for just a few seconds longer.

“Well, ain’t you sweet,” he whispers, nudging her nose with his own. She hums.

“Not as sweet as the brownies I’m whipping up.” Her eyebrow tilts up in challenge; those brownies are his weakness - well, that and every other form that chocolate can come in. His sweet tooth is something else she consistently indulges, since he insists on pushing his super soldier metabolism to its absolute limit.

At the mention of brownies, his eyes perk up and he stands up straight, looking around at the kitchen counters for the promised treats. Their feet shuffle awkwardly as he turns without loosening his grip, dragging her with him and flicking drops of the coveted sauce across the floor and countertops from the spoon still in her hand.

“Buck! Hey! You’re making a mess,” she protests, reaching for a paper towel and trying to wiggle out of his grip. He catches sight of the brownie batter on the island and gasps, a little victorious “yes” escaping his lips as he reaches for it, finally releasing his hold on her. Freed for the moment, she takes the opportunity to wipe up the drips of sauce on the floor and tosses the paper towel in the trash.

When she turns back she catches him - lips smacking around the spoon in shameless approval, dimples appearing in his cheeks, eyes dancing with mischief as he meets her eyes over the spoon.

“Bucky!” she huffs. “I wasn’t done with that yet, they still have to go in the oven!”

He raises an eyebrow, a challenge, a dare, and inches the now-contaminated spoon back towards the batter.

“Oh, that’s okay, babe - I can just eat it with a spoon,” he smirks, seeing her fists tighten before she lunges for the bowl, grabbing with both hands and tucking it to her chest to save further batter from being stolen.

“That is not the proper way to eat brownies and you know it.” He’s taking her speech very seriously, if the grin on his face is anything to go by. “You could get salmonella.”

“Worth it.”

She rolls her eyes and turns back to the kitchen counter, where her pan is already waiting, already greased with Crisco - with a glance over her shoulder to find him still watching, leaning against the island with his arms crossed, she plucks a whisk from the jar of utensils and pours out the batter, scraping the sides and letting it all drizzle its way into the pan. It slides into the oven lightning quick, before he can make another attempt at it.

Whisk and bowl now on their way to the sink, and with a satisfied hum she glides a finger down the cage of the whisk and sticks it in her mouth. Releasing it with a pop, she smiles at him across the island.

“Mmm.” An exaggerated groan, and she can see the flush starting high on his cheekbones. “You’re right - it is good enough to eat with a spoon.”

His steps are slow, measured, stalking, as he rounds the island, his tongue tracing his lower lip. Caught in his stare, she can’t bring herself to move - her heart starts picking up its pace, a rabbit’s excited thumpthumpthump against her ribs, and she grips the counter behind her. Without leaving his eyes, she draws her hand up, deliberately slow, and scoops another helping of the batter onto her fingers. Biting her lip, secret smile pressed into her cheeks, her fingers creep back towards her mouth, when he suddenly intercepts. A strong metal grip wraps around her wrist and brings her hand back to his face, slipping her fingers into his own mouth and sucking them clean. Her stomach swoops at the feel of his tongue tracing her fingers, swirling over them in long, firm strokes.

She opens her mouth to say something, a pun, a flirty innuendo, but all that comes out is a muted gasp when his hips press her own further back against the kitchen counter. Wolfish, hungry, he’s smirking at her as he pulls her fingers from his mouth. Cool metal fingers grip the back of her neck and he hauls her into a filthy open-mouthed kiss, his tongue licking deep into her mouth, as if he could get a taste of the chocolate that remained there. He groans when she responds in kind, sucking lightly on his tongue and rolling her hips against his in a slow grind.

Keeping his metal grip in her hair, his other hand slides down her side, squeezing the soft flesh at her hips and tracing the skin just under the hem of her shirt, before fingering the button of her jeans. He hears her breath stutter when he squeezes her through her jeans, the firm pressure of his fingers and the rough seam of the denim sending a brief jolt down her legs at the friction. He smiles against her lips, still ravishing her mouth, tracing the line of her teeth with his tongue. Nimble fingers undo the button and zipper, before slipping his hand inside to rub her through her panties.

“Oh, honey,” he clicks his tongue. “You’re so wet already - I ain’t even touched you yet.”

“Believe me, I know.” Her voice is never as firm as she wants it to be, her usual sass melting into breathy whines every time he touches her this way. A particularly firm press of his fingers over her clothed core has her hissing through her teeth, just the frustrated side of pathetic. “Buck - please.”

His metal hand scratches the back of her skull, affectionate and comforting, as he nuzzles his nose against her cheek.

“You gonna let me lick the bowl, honey?” he asks, low and husky, and for some reason she’s still thinking about the brownies when she nods emphatically, totally willing to barter sweets for everything his voice is promising. He grins against her skin, licking across her jaw and down to her neck…then removes his hand from her jeans to the tune of an offended whine. Her small, cold fingers grip his wrist, trying to keep him there as she pouts.

“Bucky,” and she’s not even trying to control the way it sounds now, needy and breathless. Warm tongue tracing the shell of her ear, he huffs a little laugh and squeezes her hips.

“Don’t worry, baby, I gotcha.” He withdraws an inch or two, rearranges their embrace to get a better grip around her hips. “But you said I could have a lick, so-” With no further warning, his palms each grasp a handful of her ass and hoist her up into his arms, her legs winding around his waist on instinct. Nails dig into his shoulders, leaving little red crescent shapes in the soft, freckled skin. His teeth nip at her neck between sweeps of his tongue, and she moans as he pays particular attention to her pulse point.

With a turn and a few steps, he’s back at the island, gently depositing her on the edge, his hands stroking up and down her sides. A few insistent tugs at the hem of her shirt, and she lifts her arms to let him peel the offending fabric away, tossed somewhere behind him. His hand is firm on her spine as he lays her back against the marble, the cool surface making her arch up against him. Soft lips press a final firm kiss against her collarbone as he pulls himself back, looking down at her - adoring eyes, wet lips - his hands making their way down to remove her jeans. A dark flush spreads across his chest as he pulls them down, his eyes finding the wet spot on her panties, and she feels her entire body heat up as his lust-blown eyes drink her in.

His metal hand grasps one of her ankles, lifting her leg to press a kiss there and working his way up, dragging his tongue against the sweet-smelling skin and taking his time on his way to the real prize. A little bite at her inner thigh, and a scratch of his fingernails, has her giggling and moaning at once. He leaves a kiss over her panties and moves to the other side, still savoring, still teasing, tracing his lips over the ticklish skin on the inside of her knee just to make her squirm. Sliding his hands along her legs, he massages her calves gently, knowing how sore she gets from being on her feet all day - he makes a mental note to give her a full-body massage soon. That never fails to get them both going.

He licks up the arch of her foot and holds back a laugh when she huffs and tries to kick at him.

“Are you going to get back up here anytime soon?” she pouts, fingers tugging at his hair, just the way he likes. Just the way that makes him a little bit wild. Teeth sink into his lower lip as he looks at her under his lashes, his eyes dark and hungry.

“Oh just you wait, babydoll,” he promises with a low growl. “Gonna taste you till you’re screaming.”

Before she can respond, his fingers curl in the waistband of her panties and yank them down her legs, flinging them over his shoulder impatiently. Hands beneath her ass, he lifts her hips up, licks his lips, and dives in with a broad lick up her slit.

Shameless and eager and starving for his girl, Bucky buries his whole face between her thighs, his nose nudging her clit as he laves at her entrance, the tip of his tongue slipping inside to draw out more of her juices. From there he traces a path upwards, sucking on her lips and drawing warm, wet circles over her clit.

“Oh, god…Bucky,” she arches into him, the words trailing off into a moan when he wraps his lips around her bud and sucks.

With a final harsh squeeze of her ass, his hands curl up from under her hips, one tracing up to grasp her breast, the other twining his fingers with her own. She squeezes his hand and gasps, holding on for dear life as he plucks and tweaks her nipples in time to the strokes of his tongue against her heat.

He’s too good at this - he always has been, not that she’d ever tell him and let his ego inflate that much larger. But Bucky Barnes eats pussy like he’s on a fucking mission; he’s groaning as he devours her cunt with his entire mouth, tracing his tongue up and down, side to side, nipping delicately at her folds with his teeth. She can barely keep her eyes open, but she can see the slick shining across his freshly-shaven cheeks, even on the tip of his nose, when he pauses to take a breath and fucking winks at her before going back for more.

Her toes curl against his back, thighs tense and trembling with every swirl and suck of his wicked tongue; she feels his hand leave her breasts and moans in protest, before the digits reappear at her entrance, gathering wetness for a moment before slipping inside.

A whispered “fuck” is all she can get out when his fingers scissor inside her, twisting back and forth, before curling upward and stroking firmly against her upper wall with the pad of his fingers. Never letting up with his tongue, the pattern against her clit constantly changing, she feels the heat pooling in her belly, hot and insistent and so, so close.

“Buck, I’m - fuck, I’m so close,” she whines, and he smiles and nods against her, pulling another sweet moan from her lips. The tip of his tongue draws lines and swoops over her bud, a strange pattern almost like, like -

B-

Jesus Christ, he’s -

U-

He’s writing his fucking name -

She shudders at the letters “C” and “K” when he presses firmer with the flat of his tongue, cheeky bastard. By the time he’s started on his last name, her whole body is starting to shake, the room is impossibly hotter, her head feeling dizzy and light. Her nails dig into his scalp as she cries out his name again.

“Go ahead, go on, come for me, honey,” he coaxes, before giving her clit a harsh suck while pressing that secret spot inside her. It tumbles her over the edge, her hips rolling into his mouth and her back arching up from the counters, her pants and moans falling breathless and sweet in his ears. He works her through it, continuing to lick and stroke her folds, pulling away every so often to leave kisses on her thighs and nuzzle her hip. When she starts to push his head away he pulls out his fingers, watching the gush of wetness that follows.

He drapes himself back over her body, a hand on either side of her head, as she comes back to herself and opens her eyes. Blinking a few times, she smiles at him, sharing breathless little kisses as he smooths her hair back from her face.

“You’re a menace, Bucky Barnes,” she laughs, eyes and limbs feeling heavy and soft.

“Yeah but you already knew that, sweetheart.” He kisses the tip of her nose, her closed eyelids, her cheek. “And besides -,” without warning, he scoops her up in his arms and heads towards the bedroom, leaving their mess - and dinner - behind.

“You know I like to have my dessert first.”

#bucky x reader #bucky x reader smut #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes smut

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thewritingdesk · 4 years

Text

It Had to be You ~ Part Two

Summary: Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world she walked into hers. Lin Beifong saw the world in two colors; black and white. That changes though when she meets the siren working with one of the largest gangs in Republic City.

Azami never had a choice. Didn’t have a way out. But she could destroy things from the inside. She could move information around. She could lie and smile with the best of them.

Neither needed anyone. Neither needed love. So what happens when fate ties them together? Can they save each other? Or will a smoking gun end something before it begins

A/N: A 1930s/40s LOK AU. Note that there will be themes that were present during this time including smoking, drinking, underlying homophobia, and potentially smut later on down the line. Writer’s views are not that of the characters.

Word count: 2046

In a city that shines from both street lights and stars, you’d think that all that glittered was gold. That truly, such a marvel of a city had achieved a beautiful balance in the world and everyone lived peacefully. Crime is minimal and the law has won.

But Azami knew better. The mirror’s reflection reminded her of that.

She’d experienced what it had been like to beg for her meal and hope the abandoned building had a dry place for her to sleep. And that the cops wouldn’t kick her out if they found her. Her parents had died young. Trip Threats said her father owed them money. Tossed him in the bay tied to a boulder. Her mother had been shot in the head when she’d tried to run. Azami hid in their pantry and heard it all.

She’d been fifteen when she took her first stage job. A lie and enough makeup to pass for eighteen had gotten her the gig. When they’d figured out her talents when it came that, the smaller leagues used her to move information around. Supply runs and caches for those that had needed them. Throw off the larger gangs and the police in hopes to feed those that the rest of the world turned their back on.

Brush strokes through her hair. One-two-three-four. Moving in time to the tinny sound of a trumpet and drum. Eyes that she displayed for the world that filled themselves with fires looked tired. Cheeks were gaunt.

“Nothing a little makeup can’t fix, doll.”

Takao had said to her after he’d smacked her across the face for sneaking the bus boy some food from the kitchen. Never enough to bruise. Only enough to control. Him and the four cronies that had started to show up more and more to stir things up. Setting the brush down, fingers pinned the front of her dark brown locks into a victory roll, leaving the rest of her hair to curl around her shoulders.

“Dyke freak like her would want ‘em soft.”

Feed the chief lies. Hook her with a smile. Leave her always wanting more, but remember, stay out of reach.

Nightingale, that is what they’d started calling her. Her voice was melodic and rang clear like the songbird. She fluttered around and went unnoticed, like the songbird. She was caged, like a songbird. The stage was her cage, no matter how she loved it. No matter how she had lied to herself and painted it in gold.

It was on the stage that Takao had discovered her. Had found her her family had been, and what her father had once been. It was the stage that he’d watched her eyes linger not on the men that came through the door. It was the stage that he chained her to the floor.

“Remember, little bird, the world has no sympathy for a freak with no power.”

Men like Takao had seized power after the uprisings that forced the council to step down as the head of the city. They had turned a blind eye to things such as who could love who. The president who was easily bought, easily swayed, was not so easily blinded. It was this man who had let the three major gangs begin to take over the city. Allowed for those who had already oppressed, already crippled, to only feel the hand around their throat tighten. It was his fault that she…

“Ten more minutes until curtain, Miss Nightingale.”

Jumping from her reverie, Azami turned to the young boy who had come to her door and nodded to him. Thanking him quietly, she quickly moved to dress in the crimson red dress that had been selected. The dress hugged and skimmed over her hips and showed off her thin waist. The V in the back showing off the soft skin, while thin straps sat on her shoulders.

A doll, she was a doll.

Slipping into her shoes, white gloves were slipped on before she left the room and headed for the stage.

Lin wasn’t sure how she found herself back in the smoke filled club. Or how she found herself seated at a table, whiskey in hand, rather than leaning against the bar. She’d even gone home to change out of her uniform. Black trousers that cinched high on her waist paired with the white silk blouse that tapered into her form, two buttons left open to allow her neck to be seen. She’d kept the bun, but put on some lipstick.

Maybe it had been something in those eyes that made her forget herself. She was just here to get information, she’d be able to sit without standing out dressed like this.

That’s what she told herself anyway.

So lost in her thoughts Lin had been that she hadn’t noticed Azami take the stage, hadn’t noticed the shift in the room as it stilled. Waiting for the first notes from the maestro that stood on the stage.

“Stars fading, but I linger on, dear

Still craving your kiss

I'm longing to linger till dawn, dear

Just saying this”

The siren’s pull had moved from her ears and down to her belly. The smooth sounds catching her off guard as pale green eyes sought out the darker green ones. Something was off about them tonight. The fire was still there, and they still held hers captive but there was something deeper. Something Lin couldn’t put a word to.

“Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you

Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you

But in your dreams whatever they be

Dream a little dream of me.”

The song faded as eyes locked, whiskey came to her lips and burned her throat. An anchor. Something to hold her there. She couldn’t fall under the spell completely if she was still feeling the burn of the alcohol. If she could feel the outside world still tugging at her.

Unlike the previous night, she didn’t make her way to her immediately. She waited. She listened as she sang through the upbeat tunes. Watched as she accepted a martini from a man, only to set it back on the bar when his back had turned.

Sitting back in her chair, she pulled her own cigarette from its case a bit too forcefully before lighting and releasing her own mark into the air. She knew she was there.

Azami had felt the chief’s eyes on her most of the night. Felt them as she made her rounds, made her wait. Tempted her to fetch her from the hands of others. She was almost disappointed when she didn’t. Finally making her way to the table, she offered Lin one of her signature smiles before taking her seat.

“I’m glad you could make it, chief. Did you enjoy the set?” Azami asked, a finger motioning one of the waiters over. Ordering herself another gin and tonic she sat back in her chair.

Lin brought the cigarette back to her lips and had just pulled a drag from it when fingers reached over and plucked it from her hand. She watched the other woman bring it to her lips deliberately, eyes never leaving hers and watching her expectantly.

“It was...good.” Her hand reached for the cigarette when it was handed back to her, noticing the way the two lipsticks seemed to mingle. “Now, about our deal.”

“Patience isn’t your strong suit, is it chief?” Azami asked, offering the waiter a winning smile when her drink was brought to her. “While I enjoy my drink for a moment, why don’t you tell me about your day.”

“My day? Why the fuck would you want to know--”

“Do you see that man behind me? The one in the obnoxious red suit?” Azami asked and waited until she received a nod from the chief before speaking again. “That’s Jun. Not a major player so he wouldn’t be on your radar, but he reports back to Ju-long who…”

“Who is one of the higher ups to the Agni Kai triad.” Lin finished and reached for her drink.

“Very good, chief.” Sipping her drink, Azami watched the woman. “All of these men know you. All of them are trying to discern if you’re you, or if you’re just another woman.”

“And what happens if they find out?” Lin asked, sipping her whiskey.

“They let you go the other night. Coming in more than once means one of two things; you’re willing to be bought, or you’re on to something. Guess it depends which you present to them.” Azami answered, setting her glass down.

She could feel Takao’s eyes on her and tried to ignore it. Instead she tried to focus on the pale green of Lin’s eyes, she wondered if she realized there were small auburn fleks in the green. Probably not.

“And how did a lady like you get caught up in this?”

“A lady she says, been a while since someone called me that.” Azami chuckled and folded her arms. “That’s a long, sad story. Maybe I’ll let you convince me to tell you about it, one day. Now, to our deal, there’s four people that keep coming in to speak with the owner, two men, two women. One of the men seems to be the ringleader, keeps one of the dames on his arm. Not sure what their deal is, seems to be upset about that young kid with ties that could shake up the layers of power. Don’t have any names.”

Lin leaned forward, she’d heard rumor of this group, had heard of the destruction they left behind them. “Can you come down to the station to describe them?”

“And risk my own neck, or find myself in the bottom of the bay? No thanks, chief.”

“We could protect you, Azami.” Lin pointed out, I could protect you, her mind whispered back.

“No, you couldn’t chief.” Azami answered, reaching to finish her drink. “So I guess your need for me is done.”

Let me protect you. Get out of here while you can.

“When is your next set?” Lin asked, almost shocked that the words had escaped her.

“Two nights from now.” Azami answered, watching the woman quietly. Gone were the flirtatious smiles. This woman was good, she didn’t want to drag her into this world. But too many people outside this club relied on her keeping Takao’s eyes off of them. “Should I expect you?”

Swirling the amber fluid in the glass, Lin tossed the rest back and hummed. “Will you have more information for me?”

Sing pretty bird, sing just for me. Sing the sweetest song you ever did see.

“Perhaps. Guess you’ll have to show up and see.” Azami answered and stood. She was tired. Her set was done and the next doll took the stage. She wanted out of the dress. She wanted to remove the facade. She wanted to go home.

A caged little bird, a sweet little doll. Remember child, you’re only as good as what they need you for.

Lin watched Azami walk away as she turned to reach for her grey trench coat. She moved with an effortless grace, but this time her head stayed lowered. Only the staff received any kind of smile when they came over to speak with her on her way to the back door. Had her eyes seemed despondent when she had asked if she’d have more information in two days time?

Now why would you care? Her mind whispered back.

Shaking it off, she stood and began out of the club. This nightingale, Azami, she corrected herself, had been something she’d been trying to look into since their first meeting. But every lead she found seemed to dangle in the wind. Women like that were dangerous. Women like that would get you killed.

But then, why did she feel her stomach clench when the fire in those eyes had dulled? Why had her heart tied up when that voice had hooked her in despite her best attempts to ignore it? Why was she dreaming of green eyed sirens when she closed her eyes?

She needed to get home. She needed a stronger drink. And she needed to crack this mystery so she could leave this woman behind.

#lin beifong #lin x oc #lin beifong x oc #lin beifong/oc #legend of korra #lok fanfic #fanfiction

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sleepymccoy · 4 years

Text

The years had been good, they’d been better than Crowley could have imagined. But they were still just a few years, so as he stood leaning against the fence of the church as Aziraphale’s favourite baker’s child was christened, the reminder of his lesser worth stung a little.

He’d kept himself distracted for fifteen minutes or so by tugging his low cut shirt steadily so it sat off his shoulders, enjoying the ratcheting and warring lust and wrath he was eliciting in the parking inspector on his break across the road.

But he’d pushed it a touch too far, he was out of practice, and when he’d tipped his head back, displaying his sharp and fine collarbones in the sun, the man had sniffed a frustrated breath and left.

So Crowley stood quietly, waiting for the hallowed ground behind him to give his angel back.

It happened, of course. Despite the concerned spiralling of Crowley’s thoughts, Aziraphale returned, heading the pack as he bounded from the church, all excitement to tell him everything he’d missed. He didn’t have the patience to meet him on the street, apparently, preferring to scare the living daylights out of Crowley as he reached one arm through the poles of the fence and pulled Crowley’s waist in, kissing him heavily on the ear as he asked, “What happened to your jacket, dear?”

Crowley smiled and nodded his head towards the jacket slung over the fence a short way off. He’s thrown it off early on in his clumsy temptation of the inspector. “It’s sunny,” he explained.

Aziraphale hummed and kissed him again, this time on his neck. “It was a nice christening, a bit time consuming with all the speeches,” he muttered into Crowley’s skin.

Crowley shivered happily, warm and comfortable as he leaned against the fence and was kissed by his angel. “I hate speeches,” he said vaguely, not really paying attention to the conversation as his eyes closed and he felt Aziraphale’s lips on him.

His hair was pushed aside, then Aziraphale stood back slightly to kiss the back of his neck. A hand slipped to his hip, fingers playing against the poke of his bone and the seam of his pants. “Me too, truth be told,” Aziraphale said. Crowley couldn’t remember what he was agreeing with, a confident kiss to the dip under his jaw taking his awareness of all else with it.

Warm, soft lips covered him, moving down his neck comfortably, pressing unhurriedly to his exposed shoulder. The sounds of people milling around the corner, by the main entrance Aziraphale had avoided, started up. Crowley tensed, reading a defense, but Aziraphale didn’t hesitate in his ministrations and Crowley swiftly relaxed again. The ongoing feeling of being so kissed was impossible to fight again and he slipped into joy.

"I never thought you'd be like this with me," Crowley whispered.

Aziraphale's lips eased, ending the kiss but resting warmly on his skin. Shivers ran down Crowley's spine. A small kiss was left on his collar as his hair was moved aside again, then Azirpahale murmured, "Be like what, dear?" against his ear.

He couldn't see anything, and he had no interest in opening his eyes to look. Aziraphale was kissing his earlobe and down his neck again, leaving languid, confident touches. "Ah, that's not quite it," Crowley sighed mindlessly, pleased to be held against the fence lest he melt into a puddle. "I dreamt you'd be like this, but it was a dream."

“What did you dream?”

A quiet moan rose in him, vibrating near silently as Aziraphale’s grip on his hip tightened. He was held so completely against the fence he fancied he could feel the buttons of Aziraphale’s vest pressing against his back.

Crowley’s head tipped back, landing gently on Aziraphale’s shoulder. The colour behind his eyelids lightened as he faced the sky. “Silly stuff,” Crowley dodged mildly.

His hair moved, Aziraphale’s fingers possessively rearranging his long locks. A kiss to his jaw, a shiver of excitement, fingers pressing his scalp, the sun on his face. Azirahale’s strong hand holding his hip, slipping closer to his abdomen, holding him hard against the fence with the incongruous pressure of his rounded belly pressing between the bars to touch Crowley. A kiss to his neck.

“Tell me something, darling,” Aziraphale said. The pressure of his hand in Crowley’s hair changed, moving him easily. Crowley wouldn’t put up a fight, he went where Aziraphale led him, turning to face him. He felt Aziraphale smile against his cheek and opened his eyes at last.

Crowley leaned back, pressing his shoulder blades to Aziraphale’s chest, his head tilted back dramatically to reach Aziraphale’s mouth. Aziraphale’s smile grew and his hand left Crowley’s hip to reach his cheek, cupping his face gently, encouraging his kiss.

They stood, so public, so obvious, and kissed for so long.

Aziraphale parted their lips with a small chuckle, returning to leaving the kisses he wished to bestow on Crowley’s cheekbone and snake sigil.

“What did you dream, love, don't make me say please,” Aziraphale needled cheerfully.

Crowley spied a glance from a man passing them in the street and closed his eyes rather than let his hackles rise. He focused on Aziraphale’s lips, lazily trailing down the side of his face to his jaw. The drag of his lips interrupted periodically with a more intentional kiss.

“Don't you dare,” Crowley procrastinated, “I refuse your politeness.”

Aziraphale hummed, acknowledging his response but not letting the subject change.

There was a pressure in Crowley’s chest. For a few seconds he wondered if it was panic, but then it shifted, the fingers of it spreading across his rib cage. It was simply Aziraphale’s hand, lowered from his neck and holding him by the chest, keeping him close. Crowley placed his hand of Aziraphale’s, enjoying the immediate movement as Aziraphale tangled their fingers together eagerly.

A kiss to his shoulder, then a long, wet kiss to his trap.

“Unashamed,” Crowley admitted, finally voicing the rather unwelcome memories he’d been batting away.

Aziraphale’s grip on him tightened, pulling Crowley almost painfully to the fence. Then he let go.

“Oh, don't move, my love,” Aziraphale said hurriedly.

“Angel-” Crowley turned, his eyes wide. Aziraphale was a few feet away already, trotting off towards the gate. He slipped through and smiled as he met Crowley’s eyes, reaching out to him as he got close. Crowley rather mindlessly reached to him in return, taking his hands. “Angel, I'm fine,” Crowley insisted as Aziraphale stepped close before him.

“Crowley-”

There was a delicacy in his voice, a slight crack of sadness that brought a touch of misery to Crowley.

“If you dare apologise I will kick you,” Crowley interrupted.

Aziraphale’s smile was clearly forced, but Crowley would take it. There were hands in his hair again and now Aziraphale was blocking out the sun, pressing against his front, leaning him against the fence with obvious comfort and ownership.

Moments passed as Crowley waited. He listened to Aziraphale’s short breaths, watched his eyelashes flutter decisively, and stood held in his shadow. The hands in his hair tilted him, and then Crowley was kissed, deeply and unabashedly.

“Unashamed doesn't begin to cover it,” Aziraphale whispered, his lips still brushing Crowley’s as he talked without ending the kiss. Crowley was slightly breathless and took a moment to catch his breath, but leaned after Aziraphale quickly, chasing a second kiss. Aziraphale kissed him gently, then tightened his hold of Crowley’s hair and holding him in place. A spark of happy pain sped through Crowley, opening his eyes and exciting him more than a bit.

He breathed out sharply and licked his suddenly dry lips, catching how Aziraphale’s eyes followed the track of his tongue.

There was a rattle, a loud movement beyond them. Aziraphale backed off a moment and glanced away, smiling politely at the lady with the wheelie shopping basket who was unsubtly disapproving of their public display.

Crowley stood up straight, preparing to take his own weight again as Aziraphale stepped away. But Aziraphale turned back to him and pressed against him, bullying him back against the fence. Hands wrapped around his jaw again, angling his face to meet Aziraphale’s eyes without a chance of escape.

Again, Crowley went as he was bid.

“I'm so proud to have you with me,” Aziraphale said. “I'm thrilled to touch you.”

He could feel the sappy grin on his face. Rather than fight it he just vaguely hoped Aziraphale wouldn’t make fun of him. His grin widened.

“Let's go home,” Crowley suggested.

Aziraphale smiled nervously. “I was thinking lunch, actually.”

Crowley pulled at Aziraphale’s belt, shifting his hips to the side slightly so they interlocked. The hot, meaty weight of Aziraphale’s thigh covered his dick. He thrust slightly, ensuring his meaning was caught. A touch of gold weaved its way into Aziraphale's irises, telling Crowley as honestly as Aziraphale’s raised breath did that he was understood.

“You don't want to finish what you started here?” Crowley asked.

Aziraphale smiled, far less nervously. “You'll wait for me, won't you?”

Crowley blinked. “Of course I will.”

Aziraphale nodded once, then stepped back. He spent a moment straightening his shirt then held his elbow out for Crowley to take. He had a high blush on his face but he glanced around with pride as Crowley weaved his arm in.

They stepped onto the path together, Crowley happily ignoring a disapproving titter from a young couple they passed, and walked in whatever direction Aziraphale had in mind.

Aziraphale leaned in towards him as the walked, his other hand resting atop Crowley’s in the crook of his elbow. “Thrilled,” he whispered loudly.

#good omens #ficlet #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #fluff #good omens fic #there ya go #this has been my between chores project #its a nice day

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mariahthelioness29 · 4 years

Text

Remember the time

Pairing: SamBucky! X Black! reader

WC: 7.3K (EYE... idk why they keep getting longer)

A look into y/n’s relationship with Sam and Bucky years after Send the Addy.

Send the Addy was part of @blackmissfrizzle and her Frizzle’s 2K Follower Celebration & Bad Bitch Challenge. I had the song Send the Addy by Flo Milli.

Warning: Angst, fight, violence, minor character deaths, SMUT, light D/s dynamics, threesome, sir and daddy naming, shower sex, rough sex, rimming, oral (male and female receiving), fingering, masturbation (male), fingering, cum eating.

@sambuckyslayallday @blackmissfrizzle @xbuchananbarnes @avintagekiss24 @helahades @sapphirescrolls @rasberrylemon @saltball @honestlyfrance @black-mcu-imagines @blacklavenderjade @saintsebastian-stan @deansblackbeauty @marvelmaree @honeychicanawrites @siancore

“y/n,what's your status”, Bucky asks in his coms.

You heard Bucky’s call but you decided to ignore it.

“Hang on”, you gruffed him through the coms.

You have to save the Ihumann all in chains by the Kree.

You are appalled that slavery is a reality, still.

Only this time is among aliens.

You are gathering information on the Kree and Skrull cold war for Sam and Danvers.

You jumped down from a level to the other and appeared in front of the Kree soldiers.

“ Hey, sailors”, You salute the Kree soldiers before frying them with energy coming out of you. They drop calcined.

The poor Ihumann are shaking like leaves. One of them grabbed a kid for dear life.

You assume the kid is theirs.

“ I am here to help”, you signed to them in their language.

They nod like bobble heads, still terrified.

“Here”, you signed

You hand them some guns and retractable Wakandan spears.

“ Walk behind me and when I say attack, you do as I say”. You signed to them.

“You walked fast with them and you signaled them to hide.

Some hide behind columns with you and the others blend in with the wall.

Everything was going great, according to plan.

Until other Kree Soldiers noticed you and the Ihumann.

You make them rush to the spacejet.

You press a button to open the spacejet from behind

You gave them all the space suits buttons you had including your own and only a young Ihumann stayed with you.

“ I’ll fight with you”, he signals.

Hissing and groans in pains, screams in agony , the Ihumman slashed through the Kree Soldiers.

You electro shock them until one the Kree soldier you did not see, impaled the Ihumman from his back.

You hear a strangled scream, that is deafening.

You all wince and turn around. You see blue blood pouring, hands over their mouth, eyes wide in shock and a spear through him. They drop to their knees and they look at you.

“NOOOOOOOOOO !!!!!”, you screamed.

Being distraught, the Kree soldiers took advantage and put a stabilizer on you.

A silent scream escapes your throat, the stabilizer bites in your skin, rendering you powerless.

The Kree soldiers put you in chains and make you walk with them.

You are going to another section of the massive compound floating along the sky.

"Huh? , a Terran, Quu, told me they are exquisite, I will find out with this one". He tugs at your chain.

" Save a spot for me, I am trying to find out too". The other soldier says.

You feel a presence.

You see a black shadow.

You hear shots and you flinch. You hear the men trapping you, dropped like a potato sack.

You are relieved to see Bucky but suddenly you are not.

You realize why the man is feared and why the name Winter Soldier exists.

If looks can kill, you would’ve been 10 feet underground.

“ Buck, I can explain”. You say all breathy. He walks to you. He gets you out the chains. He barely acknowledges you, hands you a glass like chip, takes you by the forearm, puts the space suit button on you and taps on it. You are surrounded by the space suit.

Through nooks and crannies, you reach the underground, shooting some soldiers down the way. You manage to escape, through a narrow exit near the underground motors of the compound.

You float to the spaceship and enter it. You click on the button and the space suits disappear.

He makes you sit and he takes the aid kit, injecting a little local anesthetic.

He cuts around the stabilizer and then takes it out with some tweezers. It is hard work cause the stabilizer has some hooks in it.

He takes the bloody stabilizer out of your neck, dropping, stomping it on the floor. He puts some nanobites to close the injury and some alcohol.

You hiss at the feeling of the alcohol and the nanobites.

Bucky’s jaw is square with anger.

He looks at you with the corner of his eyes.

He sees the Ihummann in the spacejet.

“ Translate for me, you are safe and welcome” ,he orders you in a robotic tone.

You sign what he says. They smile at you and they all say thank you to you.

Relieve is all over their faces. Some of them sigh, others with tears of happiness.

“ They say thank you”, you whisper to him.

He smiles at them but you know it is a smile that does not reach his eyes.

He bows to them with his fist on his chest.

A sign of “your welcome”, a reverence you taught him.

They all do the same to him back.

He goes to the cockpit of the spaceship and you beside him.

“ Bucky”, you try to talk to him.

“ Not now, y/n”, he gruffs.

You know, you are for one hell of a talk with him and Sam, when you’re back on Earth.

It took you three weeks to get back on Earth.

It was the route where Kree least looked for you.

Sam and Danvers are aware of what you did, but they cannot help with resources for now.

You stop in several planets, from negotiating some of your arsenal, curing aliens, selling some Earth trinkets, cage fighting, even some stripping. you and Bucky did on Traia to have food, oxygen, water, special water for the Ihumman and a place to rest. You were a success on Traia, they never saw Terrans before. So much, you and Bucky needed to fight the bar patron to let you out.

Bucky only said good night and talked to you the necessary.

You slept with your backs against each other.

He is still mad at you.

You arrived at the headquarters.

Bucky's hair was to his ears. His beard was full.

Your hair looks tired and ran through. You all stink.

The Ihumann stayed in the jet. They need to stay since Earth’s oxygen is nauseating to them, but you promised them you will find a way they can have a shower too since Earth's water makes them ill. They have to talk in signs all the time cause their voice is too high for human ears.

Once you shower, you put on some comfortable clothes.

You go to your office. You dread in your spirit, the debriefing and the report you have to do.

“ ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKIN’ MIND!!!!”,Sam screeched, entering your office with Bucky.

“BOY, DON’T YOU YELL AT ME, I’M NOT FIVE”, you yell back at him.

“This the welcome I get, you two ganging up on me”, you huff.

“ I am not the one, who went head on to Kree soldiers, put Ihumann in the jet, got captured by the Kree, Bucky reminds you.

“We had to do everything to stay afloat for three weeks alone in space or did you forget Traia”. Bucky reminds you again.

“You jeopardize this whole mission, are you aware of that”, Bucky seethes.

“ Oh!, you act surprised with your hand on your chest. “Ladies and Gents, Non-binary peeps, he speaks”, extending your arms to the side.

“Yes, I did and I’ll do it again, I will not be impartial, waiting for instructions while beings are put in chains, used as live-experiments, to appease some bullshit power”. You demanded.

“ You sidetracked this mission and brought Ihumann to earth, what are we going to do with them,the air makes them nauseous, they do not even drink the same water as us, it makes them ill!,Sam speaks with disbelief, pointing to the spacejet.

“ I will find a solution, I am the doctor here, don’t you worry ‘bout it”, You answer him.

Sam huffs in disbelief with his hand on his hip. Bucky just sits on the chair, rubbing his temples.

You throw the chips on the table . The one that Bucky gave you ,two chips extras. They were not even aware of the other two.

Their eyes are wide. They look at the two extra chips and then each other.

“Here is your mission”. You say to them.

“I AM NOT STUPID, YOU TWO ALWAYS CUT MY WINGS IN MISSIONS” your voice hoarse with anger.

They both look at each other.

“ That’s not true!”, Sam rushes out.

“ Oh no ,it isn’t?, I've always had to ask Hill and Danvers, because you never want me to do outside work.”

“ All the schedules for the mission, I am the one that receives a little thing and some bullshit paperwork”.

“ I do it, 'cause I want you safe”, Bucky says trying to calm down.

" I don't want another kidnapping and you receiving the full force of a dying star on you”, Sam say pointing at you and getting closer to you.

"I know what I got myself into, when I decided that this is what I'm going to do for a living and I survived, I am here".

“We need to help the Ihumann, there are the ones suffering the most”, you plead to Sam.

“ We are trying to find a solution for that cold war, this can affect earth, our galaxy and you bringing Ihumann will jeopardize that. This will make us look biased! .” Sam defends.

“ Oh, I read the debriefing documents, the idea is that the Kree colonize Koraa and let them have their way and pretend we do not see it”, You answer with venom.

“ That looks like the most wise decision, for now, y/n, let them believe they have a little power and when they least expect, we come in”, Bucky defends.

“ Do you both realize that by doing that it is the ⅗ compromise all over again ?” You look at them with disdain.

“ y/n, Buck and Danvers are right”, Sam touches your arm up and down, but you retreat your arm from him.

“ Have you lost your sense of self!”, You look at Sam up and down.

“ Black people, Native Americans, we are the products of that atrocity to this day.

You, Danvers, and him think that is the best solution for the Ihumann”, you ask in disbelief.

“ Y’all disgust me, get the fuck outta my office, the door is right there”. You say to them with a tear in your eye.

They both look at you, with pleading eyes.

NOW!!, you shout at them.

Bucky stands from the chair, eyes down. Sam eyes down too and they leave.

You drop on your chair, your head down, you let the tears win.

You sob loud, letting the three weeks of stress get out of your system.

You cry for the young Ihumann that you saw dying, fighting for freedom, defending his folk. You will mourn for him according to their tradition. You take deep breaths, you dry your eyes, after some time.

Your ears still hurt from the strangled scream of the Ihumman.

Feeling a little bit better, you walk out of your office to the main kitchen. You take raw fish and poultry, portion them in Ziploc bags. You take more fish and poultry out of the freezer, defrost and portion them in Ziploc bags and put it all in a big shopping bag.

You enter the front doors and you give the Ihummann the portions.

“We can help you with the oxygen machine and water customization”, three young Ihumann women sign to you.

“We have enough oxygen, for a couple of days, in the space suit, we can do something that can filter the oxygen here and the water, my name is Kala”. She signs.

“I’m y/n, nice to meet you Kala, we start tomorrow, at dawn, it is not much, I’m sorry”. You signed pointing at the food.

" and I am sorry for losing one of you", you signed, regret all over your face.

“It’s okay, this will really do, my name is Jouuma”, she signed to you.

"Moab, he died a hero, it hurts but it was not in vain, He would've been happy seeing we are free.",Joumma signed to you. You come close to her and extend your arm to hug her. You hugged each other and you distanced from each other

You put your hand in your chest and sigh in reliefs. They smile

They nod and yawn. “Get some sleep”. You signed.

“ It’s okay, again thank you for saving us, my name is Ula, goodnight”. One of them signed.

“Goodnight”, you signed to them, with a smile while exiting the spacejet.

You go back to your office. You take the mattress out of the sofabed.

“Thank Jesus, I bought this”.

You tiptoe to your shared bedroom with Sam and Bucky. They look asleep. You take some heavy blankets and then to the kitchen for some ice cream and chocolates.

You were watching some series, but you felt your eyes closing, you were full of chocolates and ice cream and you fell asleep on the sofabed

Sam and Bucky come to your office later in the night. They open the door and tip toe in.

They are both restless, you are not there. The bed feels cold, without you.

“Do you think she will get mad when she wakes up on the bed instead ?”, Sam asks.

Bucky shrugs.

“I just want us to sleep comfortably, I miss her and my bed”, Bucky says voice full tiredness and he yawns.

They see you deep in sleep. A pint of ice cream and chocolate wrappings inside the pint on the floor next to the sofa bed. The T.V projector on.

They see your alarm set at the crack of dawn and some calculations on the desk.

Sam, moves the curtains and sees the spacejet.

“She is going to work with them in the morning”, Sam states to Bucky.

Bucky nodded with his lips pursed.

Sam and Bucky’s eyes are puffy from crying.

Bucky carries you out of the office bridal style.

Sam puts the mattress back in the sofa, turns T.V off and takes out the pint of ice cream with him to the kitchen.

He goes to the spacejet to talk with Ihumann, with a translator.

In your bedroom, Bucky puts you in the middle of the bed. He sets the alarm the same time you had the alarm in the office.

He caresses your face with a delicacy to not wake you up. He ghosts his lips over your hairline and breathes you in. He realizes there, that you are not the same wide eyed sugar baby at the start of your relationship with them. It cost him to shake that state.

They were your providers, you called for them when you were in trouble, but you grew out of that.

You are now Dr. y/n. y/l/n, pioneering space anthropologist, alien anatomist and alien rights advocate and scientist.

He sighs and tangles his leg on top of yours, facing you and goes to sleep.

Sam enters the bedroom

He sees the beautiful sight of you and Bucky breathing deep asleep.

He realizes, it is true what you said earlier. He has lost his way. In his way to mitigate the scandal that was the world knowing their relationship with you, he began to be more complacent to the point, he is not the same Sam Wilson.

You are showing him that when you cannot compromise, you won't. You are trying to prevent a system of discrimination. All of the things, he should be doing.

He goes to the other side of the bed next to you, facing your back, he sleeps the closest he can to you, breathing you in and ghosting his lips over your shoulder.

You woke up and groaned at the sound of the alarm beeping for the third time. You feel two weights next to you. Bucky was cocooned next to you with his leg tangled in yours. Sam was on his back but he has your arm extended on his chest.

You detangle yourself from them and get out the bed. You see them stir a little in their sleep, their faces screwed up. “Hmm, even in their sleep , they can feel whenever I go”, you thought. You shake your head. You love them so much but you cannot let them stagnate you because they want to protect you. You know they mean well, but you are your own person, you have to be.

You take a shower, put on some comfortable blue overalls and a blue shirt with some blue working boots and you go to the spacejet with the Ihumann. Blue is the mourning color of the Ihumann.

Kala, Jouuma and Ula are up in their spacesuits.

“Morning”, you sign

They salute, signing morning. “You are wearing blue”, Ula noticed.

“I am in mourning for Moab, I will shop, some blue clothes for you later”, you told them.

“Thank you but we do not want to become burdensome to you and your “husbands” ”, Joumma tells you through signs.

You point at them, then do waves on your face , put the number three with your fingers and a circle with your hands, you wiggle your finger and then throw your hand behind your back hard.

That means:

“You deserve mourning for Moab, it is not a burden”, you assure them.

“ How do you know I have “husbands”?”, you signed.

“ Yesterday night, a man of your color introduced himself as “Sam”, your husband and said the other man with the metal arm “Bucky” was your husband too, that you are working hard to give us a space, he translated with a virtual translator. If we need anything, press this for any emergency, they will come cause you need sleep”, Ula signed and pointed to the emergency tablet.

“He said, he will try his best on the council to give us our land back”, Jouuma signed.

You sighed. You are happy that the Sam you know is still there. You know, he does not make empty promises.

They are in awe seeing the dawn and the birds fly.

They are smiling at each other and at the sky. You know that feeling. Whenever you are in space, you are like them, excited from everything around you.

With that all of you go to the basement of the compound

Later that day, you brought all of regular clothes and blue clothes for them and cut holes in the pants so that their tails were free. You wore blue and did intermediate fasting with them for three days in honor of Moab

You were working day and night for a week straight. Kala, Jouuma and Ula were the test subject for the chambers and they gave some recommendations.

You enlisted the help of Shuri, Tony, Bruce and Helen to make the lowest part of the basement of the compound suitable for them. The basement was big enough for some chambers and a couple of showers with special ionized water for them. Your other work was deciphering the encryption on the chips with Carol.

It was mostly a reading and staying quiet affair. There was still a little animosity between you and Carol, since you did not agree on the conditions for the end of the cold war.

You have given her the cold treatment. She has apologized already but you were not going to let her off the hook that easy.

“y/n”, Carol says your name soft.

You turn to her.

“I am so sorry, for not seeing the Ihumann how the conditions of armistice can affect the Ihumann, I was shortsighted and I brought Wilson and Barnes to my lack of vision, It was completely insensitive of me not thinking not seeing this from your point of view. I understand if you do not accept my apology. Regardless, I will work on seeing things from different points of views and that these solutions actually help the people that needed the most. I hope de-encrypting this can give us the upper hand so that we can help the Ihummann, Carol apologize.

you chuckle.

“That was nice”

“Hmm, how does those words taste coming out of your mouth”, you tease Carol smirking,

She rolls her eyes, “like the worst kind of vinegar, It feels horrible when I fuck up, horrible but they are necessary”, She admits.

“I hope we can find something with the program we installed”, You go and lay your head on her shoulder.

She sighs and nods, looking at the chips with connected to the projector,

“When are you going to resolve your differences with Wilson and Barnes?” Carol asked.

“I have never seen two men so lovesick and sad. It is like a Skrull tragedy”, Carol expressed.

“Maybe tonight, but I will have a party with the Ihummann to celebrate in the basement, you are invited too”. You hand her a face mask with a filter and a pair of headphones.

She is surprised with the mask and headphones on her hand. “The party is in the basement”, you say walking out.

The basement is nice, It is their environment, they even manage to start growing some of their vegetables. Ula had some seeds in her pocket.

You are there with your oxygen filtering mask and some headphones to hear the music to your frequency, courtesy of Tony and Shuri. They designed a surround system that was on the frequency of sound apt for them but not deafening for the rest tower.

You were showing different music of “Terra”(Earth), you were showing them Afrobeats, now they are listening to Beyonce's ``Already. The video was there on the projector and they were imitating the dance steps, step by step perfectly. The Ihumann have amazing photographic reflexes. They understand the lyrics, they love the rhythm. There is a translator embedded in the projector. If you take your headphones off, you are sure you will be deaf. They have the volume so high. That’s why you talk in signs. Human voice or humanoid voice and its frequency is too low for them and their voice is too loud for your ears.

They ask you if the blue men in the video are alien, they have blue skin. You signed to them they are human but painted blue. They all signed oh..

You signed that you will show them another genre and another artist from you were a little bit younger. You play Send the Addy and 19 by Flo Milli. “It is called Rap/ Hip-Hop and this one of my favorite artists, Flo Milli”.

They start jumping to the song and then imitating how you dance.

You start dancing just like how you remember doing the way you used to. Going all down and starting twerking to the floor and they all do the same. You laugh seeing them twerk

You remember that night in the hotel years ago.

How lively and also kind of naïve you were.

How dependent you used to be of Sammy and Buck. You miss that girl from time to time.

Before trending on twitter as #blackmonicalewinsky, before going with the Guardians to escape all that scandal, change your identity, become a pioneer in a career made by Jane Foster and Carol Danvers, going to missions on different planets, before being an avenger, before escaping from space pirates and rather jump on a dying star than to be theirs, Carol finding you passed out floating in space and getting your powers.

Carol arrived at the celebration and you know she likes Classic Rock.

You signed to them that the type of music they are going to listen to is Rock and the band is Gun n Roses, that they are classic and renowned here on Terra. They all have wide eyes and they mouth Oh..

After a while of rock music videos, they were listening and watching Michael Jackson’s Remember the time. You told them that Michael was one of the best artists to ever grace Terra. He made moonwalking famous and he is a staple of Terran music.

They all watch your signing intently to remember what you said, like good kids in school.

They were like little kids in a movie theater. You look at them screaming scared when Michael appeared from the dust in the video.

“Those sweet memories

Will always be dear to me

And girl no matter what was said

I will never forget what we had

Now baby” Michael was singing.

Your mind went to all the amazing times, Sammy, Buck and you had. All the times when you felt on top of the world. The song is one of Sam and Buck’s favorites. You need to make amends with each other. You want to but you just haven’t got the time. You are scared your fights were never this long. It has been a month. You are in that weird grey zone. Not that mad at each other but there is still not a proper closure to this.

At the end they were imitating the dance moves in the dance break of the video, perfectly just like the dancers in the video. It was outstanding, seeing Jouuma imitate Michael Jackson so good like she was some live extension of him.

“Michael would’ve been proud; aliens listening to his music and enjoying it”, you thought.

“ I am going to get ‘em and resolve our differences”, you say to Carol.

“ Go, get’em, tiger, You will be wobbling to the office tomorrow, I just know”, Carol snickered, you shove her. She laughs and you shake your head and stifle a laugh.

Talos was with Sam and Bucky and some of the Ihummann with their oxygen filter mask.

Sam and Bucky were smoking.

Sam was smoking a Cuban cigar, Bucky a plain Marlboro.

They were all concentrating on a game of poker.

It was ridiculous how many times they have lost to the Nuk, Cab and Ilu,the Ihumann playing poker with them.

You smell tobacco and you roll your eyes. You hate tobacco, but your heart softens. They only do that when they are too stressed.

You saw them playing. You went to the table. You sat on Sam’s lap, you kissed him on the corner of his lips. You did the same to Bucky, you sat on his lap, you kiss the corner of his lips. You get up and walk , then you turn around your head, looking at them with desire and continue walking, swaying your hips.

All the Ihumann, Talos, the other Skrulls, look at Bucky and Sam.

They start either signing whistling sounds or whistling to Sam and Bucky.

Sam feels his cheeks heat up, Bucky actually gets red in the face.

“I see you will get lucky tonight,boys, I don’t know much about Earth women, but that is a woman after something, Talos said to them, wiggling his eyebrows.

“You know that is the first sign of loving, we have received in a month”, Bucky tells the group.

“What the hell are you here for, GO!!!, to where she is, Nuk, the Ihumann signed to them.

Bucky and Sam understood with the translator. He and Sam get up from the table and walk to their room so fast, one probably could see the dust in shape in their form, just like the cartoons.

You took all your clothes. You went straight to the shower.

The water was relaxing and giving you courage.

You hear their footsteps in the room and you smile.

You are vibrating with anticipation just like that one time in the hotel or your first time together.

They hear the shower. They take their clothes in a frenzy. In a second,they are only in their boxes.

They enter the bathroom. They see you through the glass and their mouths water.

“May we join, ma’am ?”Bucky asks all breathy, eyes darkening, taking you in.

“You may”, you whisper to them, sliding the glass barrier.

Sam and he take off their boxers and step into the shower, enter in and slide the door close.

You feel the air change when they step up.

The way they are surrounding you.

Bucky goes behind you and Sam in front.

Your lips are quivering, feeling Sam and Bucky this close.

He cups your face in his hands, rubbing his thumbs on your cheeks.

He ghosts his lips on top of yours and kisses you unhurried.

He increased the pace of the kiss. He sweeps his tongue on your lip. Your lips part giving him access. You are making out with him, massaging each other’s tongues.

You are falling in that feeling of surrendering to them.

Bucky hugs you from behind then he starts massaging your breast. The water, the contrast of metal and flesh. You throw your head on his shoulder. Your breathing is getting ragged.

Bucky is hissing in your ear. The rubbing of your ass against his dick was making him dizzy.

Sam brings you close to him again, to kiss you with all the passion he has.

Bucky entered his finger in you. You gasp into the kiss and Sam starts to suckle on your neck. You are so soaked, and warm on his fingers. “ Fuck it, I can’t wait, I going to take you here ”, Bucky rushes out

Sam stops the water.

He makes you find support by putting your hands on the tiles, caging Sam in.

He brings your ass to him and he lines up with your entrance.

He thrusts into you in one go, groaning “Goddamn”.

You cry out “Daddy, fuck!”.

Sam drops on his knees in between your legs, flicking his tongue on your clit.

You go cross-eyed. “Sir, fuck, that’s so good”, you whine

After a while, he starts flicking his tongue on Bucky’s balls and Bucky stutters his movement moaning.

“FUCK!!, you two are going to be the death of me”, Bucky rushes out in between groans and moans.

You can only moan and bring your ass back to him.

“Daddy, you feel so good”, you shrill.

“Fuck, baby, bring that ass to me, sweetheart keep doing that”, he moans.

Sam keeps flicking his tongue, humming, moaning against Bucky’s perineum.

He is jerking himself hard, he stops when he feels he is too close. He walks on his knees a little so that he can stand up from Bucky legs. He just looks at sight of you and Bucky ravishing each other.

“Yes, yes, fuck yes”, you babble.

You feel yourself tightening around him.

“Daddy, please, I…”, you scream

“I am close too, honey”, Bucky breathes out. He is going in and out unrelentingly. You come with a strangled high pitched moan. Your whole body shakes with release.

“Baby, I love you so much, baby, y/n”, he groans, picking his pace up to a new speed.

Damn!!, you cry out at him going faster.

You feel his dick twitch

After a few thrusts, you feel the warmth of his cum inside you and him groaning your name.

“Wow”, he breathes out. You catch your breaths.

You hum in response, you feel light and relaxed.

He pulls out, turns you to face him and kisses you. You both smile into your kiss.

You hug each other tight.

He runs his hands up and down your back to your ass.

You breathe him in. You missed this and both of them so much.

You both approach Sam.

Bucky grabs Sam’s head, kisses him hard, they hug each other, grope each other, rub against each other.

They are making out. All tongue, moaning and humming. Bucky kisses his neck and sucks on it to leave a mark. Sam moans and hiss.

“That was so hot, baby boy”, Sam tells Bucky out of breath.

“It was so good, you under me and our baby girl fucking herself on me”, Bucky responds out of breath. They both look at you.

Your mouth waters and your pussy throbs, watching them.

“How about we take this to the bed ?”, Sam asks, his voice raspy, deep.

You look at him. He is rock hard. You bite your lip and you nod.

“Yes, sir”, you answer him.

You exit the shower.

You all take your towels and dry in a rush, leaving the towels there on the counter.

In the bedroom, you kiss Sam, all tongue, your hand on his ass, his hands on your ass.

You are both touching and groping each other.

You kiss his neck then his chest, leaving a trail of kisses until you drop to your knees.

Bucky was enjoying the show, laying on the bed. One hand behind his head and the other jerking himself off slow.

“What do you want, pretty baby ? Sam looks down at you, grabbing his dick.

“ Use my mouth, sir”, you look at him with doe eyes.

He taps his dick on your lips.

“Open up”, he says. You open your mouth wide.

He goes slowly into your mouth, “Fuuuck”, he rasped.

Then he pulls slow, “Goddamn”, he rasped.

You choke on his dick over and over again.You bobbed your head up and down, gagging

You jerk the part you can’t reach.

He groans “Shiiiit”,feeling the back of your throat.

“That’s it, honey, deep just like that, you are so good with that mouth, Bucky encourages while stroking himself.

You take Sam out your mouth and lick his head full of pre cum with kitten licks.

“Ahh,baby” he rushes out.

He fucks your mouth without mercy.

He stops.

He sits on the edge of bed, he wiggles his finger to come to him. “Crawl to me, like the good girl you are”, he demands. “Yes sir”, you answer, crawling to him.

You reach to him and he grabs the back of your neck. Driving your head up and down the way he saw fit. He threw his head back, lips parted, eyes to the ceiling, he was breathing heavy, moaning, hissing, groaning.

Bucky crawled next to Sam and kiss him.

He whispers to his ear: “She sucking your dick good, sweetheart?, I know she is good at that, that mouth of hers does wonders. You keep sucking him, taking a breather here and there and going back to business.

You hear what Bucky says and Sam moaning, your pussy feels wetter.

Bucky grabs your head, making your head go up and down to his pace, while kissing Sam’s neck .

Sam nods fast, moaning.

Bucky pulls your head off Sam's dick.

“Baby girl, come up, put that ass on daddy’s face”, Bucky rasped.

You put your ass on his face and you're facing his dick, you stroke it and he hisses.

“Fuck you’re dripping wet, you like sucking dick that much, pretty girl?” Bucky asks you then lick your slick.

You mewl; “Yes, Daddy”

“Come here, Sammy, give our girl what she needs”, Bucky tells Sam.

Sam crawls to where you are.

He is on his knees, legs a little wide, each on each side of Bucky’s head.

You are your hands and knees and Bucky is under you.

Sam lines up with your entrance and thrust in.

“Sir!!!”,you scream

He rams into you, he spanks your ass cheek.

You jolt and whine; Sir, that feels so good, spank me, please”.

He spanks you hard, you feel your ass tingling and burning. You hiss.

Sam fucks into you, groaning, moaning, breathing heavy.

He grips your hips hard and thrust into you fast, while bringing your ass to him.

You let out high pitch moans and groans.

“That’s it baby, I wanna hear you, I’ve missed those sounds”, He says driving into you with force.

Bucky is under seeing the connection between Sam and you.

He scoots a little and he is under your clit.

He licks fast on your clit, humming, while jerking himself off.

His licks, the vibration of his hum, Sam unforgiving pace.

It is too much.

“Sir, daddy, I’m…”, you cannot not even finish your sentence.

Sam levels a brutal slap to your ass.

“You are going to take what we give, baby”, Sam grits out, still fucking you non stop.

You mewl: “yes, sir”.

You feel him so deep, you close your eyes.

You scream: “Fuck, sir, Fuck”.

He yanks you by the hair. You hiss.

“Who am I, naughty girl ?”, He grits out,

His bottom lip between his teeth, He is going somehow deeper.

“YOU’RE MY SIR !!'', you scream so hard, the Ihumann would finally hear a human voice for the first time in their life.

Bucky still licking you, Sam yanking your hair and his pace.

“GOD!!, you scream, you feel your insides tighten hard and clear liquid comes out.

You come gushing out.

Sam pulls out and he wets his fingers with your juices.

“Fucking sweet”, he states and hums at the taste. He stares at how you squirt and Bucky laps it all up.

Bucky catches it with his mouth. He jerks himself faster. He comes with a moaned version of y/n , Sammy.

You grab the sheets hard. Your comfort is Bucky warm abs against your face. Your face has Bucky cum.

Sam thrust in hard again.

“Baby, squeeze me like that, it’s so fucking goood”, Sam rushes out of breath.

He is going at it, fast, demanding.

You mewl, moan and groan. Your eyes closed and lips parted.

He keeps the pace and cries out “SHIT!!!, He groans: “Oh, my God”.

His eyes close, breathing ragged, he comes with a long, loud moan.

He empties inside you.

Sam pulls out, taking deep breaths. He lays on his side of the bed.

You catch your breath, resting your head on Bucky’s abs. your ass is still up.

Your pussy pushes all the cum out and Bucky laps it all up.

“Ahh fuuckk”, you sigh, you are so sensitive, feeling Bucky's tongue slowly eating you out.

“You taste so good together”, Bucky says savoring you and Sam.

You scoop Bucky’s cum and lap it all up.

You stand up from him and go to your spot in the bed. The middle.

Bucky goes to your right and puts his head on your shoulder.

Sam puts his head on your other shoulder too.

There is a comfortable silence.

You all look at the ceiling in a sort of trance.

Your bodies are still vibrating from the pleasure.

You remember this feeling. You felt like this, when you were together for the first time.

You smile and start singing:

Do you remember when we fell in love?

We were young and innocent then

Do you remember how it all began?

It just seemed like heaven, so why did it end?

Sam followed with:

“Do you remember, back in the fall?

We'd be together all day long

Do you remember us holding hands?

In each other's eyes, we'd stare

Tell me”

You sign all together:

Do you remember the time?

When we fell in love

Do you remember the time?

When we first met, girl

Do you remember the time?

(Oh, I)

When we fell in love

Do you remember the time?

Sam continue singing:

Do you remember how we used to talk?

You know, we'd stay on the phone at night till dawn

Do you remember all the things we said?

Like, "I love you so, I'll never let you go

Bucky sings, horrible out of key;

Do you remember, back in the spring?

Every morning, birds would sing

Do you remember those special times?

They'll just go on and on

In the back of my mind

You laugh after that.

“What made you remember “remember the time”?”, Bucky asks you

“ We were having the party in the basement, the Ihumann were watching the video and dancing to that, when I went looking out for you’, you answer to him. ‘It is amazing how they catch on moves so damn fast, they dance the same as the video dancers, like outstanding and it is a little bit eerie like Jouuma was like a reincarnation of Michael.” You add on.

“Okay, space nerd”, Sam teases you. Bucky chuckles at that.

You glare at them

They face you. Sam faces you with his weight on his elbow so that he can see your profile. Bucky does the same.

“I am sorry, y/n”, Sam starts.

“You were right, I was losing my sense self, we need to help the most vulnerable,

We will find another solution for the Kree and the Skrulls and the Ihummann.

You show me what I should be doing. When you can’t compromise, don't.

I am sorry for holding you back. I just want to be your protector, just like I was once ,but I know things are different now. It just cost me. You have been through a lot and I wanted to save you from all that and I couldn’t. I will change. I will ask you what you need instead of assuming, I am sorry, baby ”, he states and he chokes a little sob on the last part.

“Aww, Sammy, you and Buck are the people that make me feel safe and loved. It's just that I’m not in college anymore. A lot happened and I’m not the same person but I love you and how you two always are there despite our differences ” you say while sitting up against the headboard.

You let him put his head on your chest.

“ I am sorry, I sidetrack the mission but it is just that when I see something go south, I can’t ignore it”, I am sorry I kicked you out of my office like that. I will try my best not to lose my temper like that again”, you apologize to them.

“You are right, y/n, It is a horrible plan, we need to have some alternative and I know it is in those chips. I am sorry for being an ass to you in space and I am sorry for making you feel bad to save the Ihumman, like Sammy said we want to protect you and we feel we have fail at that, when everyone were against you for this relationship, the scandal, the kidnapping, you getting your powers but you are right you are different but at the same baby we fell in love with and I love you and I promise not to be overbearing”, Bucky apologizes. He puts his head on your chest too.

“You were right in saving them, I was so far removed, that was me and Steve in the 40s.

If he didn’t disobey orders to save me constantly, I wouldn't be here”, Bucky states

You kiss his head.

" Buck, it's so good that you think that way, I am thankful for you and Sammy, you two did what you can, you received a lot of backlash too . You are enough more than enough ",you say to him, rubbing his back.

“You still owe me a fucking car, asshole, you rip my fucking steering wheel”, Sam tease Bucky with faux offence.

Bucky sighed “I am sorry, Sammy for damaging your car and rip the steering wheel”, Bucky apologizes

You all laugh.

“What are we going to do if we do not find anything on those chips”, You worry.

“Hey baby you are one of the most brilliant minds there is out there , you will figure it out and we will be right here by your side”, Sam reassures you and Bucky nods in agreement.

“Let that grey matter of yours, rest a minute, honey pie”, Bucky said to you while bopping your nose.

“You are right and I love you so much”, you answer.

“We love you so much, pretty baby, Sam answered you and kissed your cheek”.

You all went to the bathroom and shower for real this time. They were kisses here and there.

You brush your teeth.

Sam grabs the cocoa butter and he moisturizes you and Bucky then moisturizes Sam.

Bucky wraps the night scarf around your head for your hair with a good knot

. Sam changed the covers and put the dirty covers in the dirty clothes basket.

You change into your PJS. You wore a silk camisole. Bucky some loose shorts, no underwear and no shirt. Sam wore some sweatpants and no shirt.

You kissed each other goodnight and slept tangled with each other.

#sambucky #send the addy #remember the time #blackmissfrizzle challenge

54 notes · View notes

cantabile-l · 4 years

Note

Smut fic prompts F3: "Knowing someone else can hear". An original Stevebucky pairing of your choosing.

Steve wasn’t sure how he managed to be this lucky of an asshole. Here he is - after all that the world had thrown at him - lounging at a luxury resort island with a - no, his - breathtakingly gorgeous young man by his side.

Bucky Barnes is a young engineer who had been netted by SI’s efficient talent-hunting streams that quickly snatches up the best and brightest in the country’s leading post-secondary institutions. And being the lucky asshole that he is, Steve had managed to snatch up this bright young man for himself as well as the fates would have it in a number of chance meetings in the Tower. And if he only happened to find out that Bucky had been anointed by Stark to be his informal protege himself, after Bucky had already snuck himself into Steve’s bed? Well Stark’s mock outrage would be his own problem. For all Steve was concerned, he had the man of his dreams with him every day and the sweetest boy under him every night.

Shaking himself out of his memories while recalling the joys of the past few months, Steve focuses on the now, as they take a sunset stroll hand-in-hand in the cooling evening air of the island.

Every year Stark hosts an extravagant company retreat by buying out a private resort for an entire week. He calls it “gotta show my R&D nerds how to be cool and party somehow” as he wandered around the poolside, pushing his own automatically cooled bar cart and making drinks for his employees. Pepper, on the side, explained to Steve that so many staff worked ridiculous lab hours and seldom took full advantage of their vacation days, combining professional development workshops to justify a week of all-expenses paid vacation helped boost up morale and staff well-being. That made more sense to Steve than whatever Tony was trying to explain, over the thumping bass that was also built into the bar cart he was pushing while brandishing a t-shirt gun.

Steve and Bucky are slowly winding back to their suite as they walk around the resort, excitedly pointing out activities they want to try the next couple of days (“scuba-diving, Steve, scuba-diving! - Personally, I think I’ve spent enough time under the ocean, Buck. - “You were in the Arctic, Steve. Bet you wouldn’t have minded 70 years in this ocean when you see the coral reefs.” - I appreciate the enthusiasm, baby, but I somehow doubt that.”)

They leisurely make their way into their suite but as as soon as Steve kicks their door closed behind them, Bucky is swooped up into his arms and Steve is in their bedroom with just a few strides, crossing the large living area with the last rays of sunset streaming in behind him through the floor-to-ceiling windows. He tosses Bucky onto his back who bounces once, twice, on the mattress with a squeal before Steve is climbing on top after him, grinning and caging him in while capturing his lips in a kiss. “Sun-kissed lips” had to only exist in saccharine romance novels, he thought, but maybe that was before he tasted Bucky’s lips, slightly chapped from a full day in the sun. Or maybe his lips would always taste intoxicating in a brand new way, every time they kiss. Either way, he barely brings himself to separate from Bucky, panting in the same air, slightly breathless as they look at each other with dopey smiles.

“So... “ Bucky starts as he twists a finger into the linen collar of Steve’s short-sleeve button-up, “I did some shopping for this trip, Daddy…”

His baby is transparent for Steve to read at this point, in all the time they’ve spent glued together over the course of their relationship, but he’s still happy to play coy and indulge him. "I can see that, sweetheart. I gotta say, your ass does look fantastic in these new shorts you bought with my credit card", pinching Bucky's bottom for effect.

"No, daddy." Steve grins and enjoys the little swat he gets in return for his pinch "I got somethin' a lil' extra special for the pool. But I wanted you to get a sneak peek first"

Buck shimmies out from underneath him and with a look through his eyelashes that never fails to quicken Steve's pulse, he pushes Steve to sit back against the pile of pillows at the head of the bed. Bucky sits back on his heels to unbutton his shorts before unzipping them slowly. Steve catches a glimpse of a dark blue before Bucky's kneeling up to push his shorts the rest of the way down. His breath catches as his eyes zero in on what Bucky’s shorts were hiding. Steve knows they’re at sea-level but it sure doesn’t feel that way from how he’s sure he’s light-headed from blood rushing south.

First of all, there's absolutely no way Steve is letting this bikini ever leave the room. It's a tiny deep sapphire blue triangle that barely covers - let alone contains - Bucky's package. Not only that, but the bikini seems to be held up by just lil strings tied into two bows on each side of his hips. Under his hands that seem to just have moved to Bucky's hips on their own, he can feel that just a snag or tug on those simple knots would undo and send the scrap of material fluttering down.

A low growl escapes his lips as he grips Bucky’s hips tight and drags him in closer onto his lap, thumbing the strings that are already straining to stay tied.

"Oh sweetheart - look atchu. Now you got another thing coming if you think there's any way I'm letting you outta here in these, struttin’ around the pool deck showin' off what's not yours to flash around, that what you wanted? ‘Cause these" - Steve cups a possessive hand between Bucky’s legs and grips the other around his neck, pulling him close so their lips are just breaths apart - “these belong to Daddy, don’t they?” squeezing just a bit to make his hold felt. His hands go straight to the strings on Bucky’s hips and he was right - just a slight tug has the knots undoing, exposing his half-chubbed up cock to Steve’s gaze. “Mhm, this lil’ cock right here, these cute lil’ balls,” fondling them in his large hands, “these aren’t yours, you know better. You gonna tell me who they belong to, sugar? Whose are these again?” as he grips just a little tighter.

Bucky flinches at the firmer grip and his hands fly to Steve’s shoulders to steady himself - “Yours, Daddy, it’s all yours” he gasps out.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he pecks a kiss on Bucky’s lips, “that’s right.” His fingers roam from Bucky’s cock that’s quickly filling out around to his back, “and this hole? Whose is this, Bucky?” His fingers circle lightly around the tight pucker.

“Also yours, Daddy, oh please. I need-” Bucky’s hips are rocking into Steve’s now as he tries to grind in his lap and find some friction for his erection that’s now just starting to leak against Steve.

“Hm, I think I know what you need, baby. Think you need your Daddy to remind you who these,” his finger presses harder against Bucky’s hole, “belong to again so you don’t forget.” landing another kiss on his lips before flipping them over.

The prep is quick and dirty, the leisurely pace of the evening quickly replaced with a need for more and more. Steve’s third finger slips in with the first two and is thrusting them up deep, swallowing Bucky’s moans with open-mouthed kisses, their tongues slickly licking against each other like Steve’s fingers. It’s not long before Steve judges that Bucky is ready, and he himself is more than ready. His own cock is painfully hard next to Bucky’s leaking tip and Steve guides Bucky’s legs up, as he guides his slick cock into the tight, wet heat inside him that always steals his breath away.

“Oh sugar, that’s right. Always opening up so beautifully for Daddy, so good. So good for me.” Bucky’s eyes screw up tight as Steve takes just a moment to let them both adjust and catch their breath. Then, Steve begins moving, slowly for just a few thrusts, slower than what Bucky would like judging by his impatient sounds, before Steve hitches up his legs and really starts leaning into it and fucking his sweet boy like he deserves. Bucky’s gasps and whimpers that escape his lips just rile Steve up even more, speeding up his hips. .

“C’mon, baby. Give it to me, all those sweet little noises you give your Daddy. Show your Daddy you’re feeling good. We’ve got the whole floor in this place, remember? No one to hear you except me, sugar.” Steve angles his hips until the moans that Bucky can’t even try to hold back lets him know he’s hitting the right spot, and keeps fucking mercilessly into his body as he watches in awe at Bucky falling apart under his touch. Sure enough, Bucky just lets his jaw slack open, long moans and high whimpers falling from his mouth between pants and gasps of pleasure. Before long, Steve’s hearing the telltale “ngh, ngh” sounds punctuating his every thrust and he knows Bucky is close, as is he, the white hot sparks of pleasure shooting down his spine prompting him to drive ever deeper and harder into him. Steve wraps a hand around Bucky’s cock and just the mere touch has Bucky crying out and shooting off, come splattering up his front. His tight walls flutter and clench down on Steve’s cock and he’s helpless but to fall into his orgasm alongside Bucky.

When his eyes clear and their breaths even out, Steve gently pulls out, tenderly brushing a strand of long hair out of Bucky’s face as Bucky grimaces at the empty feeling where he was just so full. Collapsing to his side, Steve rolls Bucky with him and peppers his face with a few more kisses (there’s never enough kisses).

“Well good thing I brought another pair of swim shorts too, since that didn’t pan out too well, huh?” Bucky cheekily says with a smirk. Steve laughs and rolls over to his other side, fishing for something inside his bag on the floor that he had stashed earlier while Bucky wasn’t looking.

“Nope - and to make sure you don’t forget your lesson,” Steve reaches behind Bucky and gently works the plug inside and past his undoubtedly tender rim. Bucky lets out a whine, hips seeming confused on whether to move closer or away from the object pressing inside him, “Really, Steve? Is this necessary?” whimpering as the plug’s widest slips past and settles in nicely.

Steve’s wearing a smirk of his own now. “Sure is, baby. Now c’mon, let’s get cleaned up in that jacuzzi on the balcony and I’ll make it up to you and get you feeling good with my hands again.”

The air was getting chillier now as the evening settled in and breezes came through the windows left open by housekeepers, so Bucky shrugged and followed. It spoke to the extravagance of this villa, reserved only for Tony and the Avengers who tagged along, that each suite occupied the whole floor with a balcony that stretched out with a view of the sea which you could enjoy from your own private jacuzzi.

Also considerably perked up by the promise of getting Steve’s hands all over him again, Bucky pads onto the balcony where Steve’s lifting the cover off the tub. The water is comfortably warm but not overly hot as they climb in. They take a moment to just bask in the rumbling water, eyes closed and contented sighs, as the jets work their magic on any lingering tension in their muscles. Before long though, Steve finds himself with a lap that’s slowly being taken over by a wet wriggly Buck and peeks an eye open.

“I was promised something, Daddy”, Bucky somehow manages to pout yet maintain an innocent look at the same time. Chuckling, Steve pulls him in close, cradling his head into the crook of his neck., hands sweeping up and down and caressing every inch of skin he could get his fingers on. If there was any tension even left in Bucky’s body, it seeps out with every pass of Steve’s broad hands.

“I did, didn’t I? Well I can’t hold back on my sweet boy ever.” He pecks another kiss on Bucky’s forehead and sweeps his hands down his back again, but this time pausing a moment at the base of his spine, searching-. Steve grins when Bucky jolts wildly, water splashing over the tub side, as a buzz comes alive inside him and through him and he cries out, barely muffled by Steve’s shoulder. “What the shi-- Steve!”

“I did say I’d get you feeling good again, didn’t I, sweetheart?”

“You said with your hands! I thought you meant like a nice jacuzzi massage, not-” his words breaking off into a moan as the unconscious movements of his hips budge the plug into a particularly good spot inside him.

“Oh you’re right, I did say my hands, too. That’s my bad, sugar. Here-” And Steve wraps his head around both their cocks, Bucky’s already hard again thanks to the relentless internal stimulation and all his wriggling had Steve most of the way there again already.

Now Steve’s not exactly a sadist but it’s hard to keep the amusement off his face as Bucky flails and fails to keep the increasingly stressed sounds in, as Steve works their cocks with expert precision. Along with the plug vibrating mercilessly inside him and the rumbling of the water all around them, Bucky is quite helplessly trapped in an onslaught of sensation from every side. Steve is just working his hand over the sensitive head of Bucky’s dick when he freezes at the sound of a sliding door and a familiar voice in the balcony overhead. A balcony in the penthouse suite above them which means it can only belong to-

“Look Pepper, I know I said I’d get that report to the Board before we flew out but those old shits can wait a weekend. I’m sure they’re all on their yachts right now anyways, can’t we enjoy ourselves for just one night?”

Steve doesn’t hear Pepper’s response when his attention is torn away by the whimper that escapes Bucky, who’s smushed his face into Steve and has a hand plastered over his own mouth, practically vibrating with tension. He pulls Bucky’s hand away and tilts his head to look at him.

“Hey, now… I thought you were being good for me? Thought I told you to not keep those pretty sounds from Daddy?” He whispers, into his ears, but carefully assessing Bucky’s face and eyes, waiting for their safe word or any signs of serious distress.

When none comes, Steve keeps going, whispering into Bucky’s ears and efficiently jerking his hand along their cocks under the still rumbling water. “We’ll have to be quiet, now, sweet thing, but I still want to hear you so don’t hold back either. And not because Tony doesn’t need to know his little protégé loves his Daddy doing filthy things to him, oh no.” He chuckles, his hand moving faster and Bucky responds with a soft feminine whine into Steve’s ear. “It’s because these sweet noises you make, sugar, they’re all mine. And you know already that Daddy doesn’t share what’s his, doesn’t he?” His low voice mostly masked by the rumbling of the water and pump of the jacuzzi.

Bucky’s hips are grinding into Steve’s lap now, little splashes of the water accompanying the soft whimpers he lets out into Steve’s neck, mindful to never let them get too loud. Steve registers the sliding door above them shutting in the back of his mind but he keeps going, whispering filthy sweet words into his boy’s ears. He’s not unaffected by the vibrations of the water jets around them, the wriggling of Bucky in his lap, and soon, Steve finds himself at the brink once more.

He brings his hand that’s been holding Bucky tight to him down to the cleft of his ass and pushes on the base of the plug, pressing the vibrating toy straight into Bucky’s prostate. “Come, Buck, c’mon give it to me” and Bucky’s wail is barely muffled with the bite he lands onto the meat of Steve’s shoulders, the extra spark of sensation dragging Steve along with him into bliss.

Deft fingers find their way down to the plug to switch it off as Bucky starts twitching and whimpering from oversensitivity and then those strong arms are wrapping around the slightly trembling younger man. “So good for me, sweetheart, so good for me. Are you alright?” Steve asks, a little concerned at the silence. Shifting back to take a look at Bucky’s face, he realizes that he’s shaking from silent laughter, barely holding it together.

“I can’t believe we did that, right beneath my boss” dissolving into silent giggles in Steve’s arms. In the cool seaside air of the night, Steve chuckles as well and continues soaking in the soothing currents of the hot water with Bucky, his sweet boy and loving boyfriend, in his arms.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LYNNE FROM YOUR PREMIER SOFTIE! LOVE YOU TO BITS AND I HOPE YOU HAVE A WHALE OF A DAY/YEAR LIKE I HAD A WHALE OF A TIME WRITING THIS. <3 <3 DON’T ASK I’M OUT OF THE JUICE.

#my bs #wow what happened here #daddy steve #askjo #if you want more of my bs #i is full of the bs #help how do you do this thing #the writing thing #and also the formatting thing #also the dialogue thing

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keelywolfe · 4 years

Text

FIC: Déjà Vu All Over Again (standalone)

Summary: A little look at how a reset might appear to someone on the other side of the button.

Notes: Here's some Sansby for y'all. M for mature!

Tags: Undertale Sans, Undertale Grillby, Sansby, Lemony goodness, Resets

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

It was late enough that the snow outside was falling into a hushed darkness. The glow of a sign flickered from open to closed, the shades drawn down, and the front door shut with the quiet click of a lock.

From his usual seat, Sans let his head drop lower to rest his forehead on his folded arms.

"s’rry, grillbz, i know it’s closing time." Silence, but that was all right. Grillby was nothing if not assertive and if he wanted Sans gone, he'd already be packing it in. Normally, he wouldn't need to ask, but tonight didn't feel like it was well-acquainted with normal. The chill outside seemed as though it was waiting for him to get up, ready to grasp him with icy fingers as he made his way home and Sans was in no rush to give it the chance.

The second-to-last customer had shuffled out into the night some few minutes before and the bar was already wiped down. Sans could hear the rasp of the broom and the quiet crackle of Grillby moving behind him. Soothing in its normality and Sans let himself drift, not quite asleep nor awake.

As always, Grillby's voice was less of a sound and more of a presence. Your brother will be waiting for you.

"mmmhmm," Sans mumbled into his folded arms. He would, maybe. The lack of texts made that less likely and much as Papyrus appreciated a bedtime story, there was a good chance he'd had an inkling of Sans's mood and decided to let him be for tonight. He could be startlingly perceptive like that; yet another reason his bro was the coolest.

A sudden rush of warmth tickled across the back of his neck, delicate and precise, a single finger of flame tracing his cervical spine. Drifting into his hoodie to follow the line of his jaw.

"like that is it?" Sans asked, sleepily, rousing enough to lean into the touch. Grillby didn’t often offer and Sans didn’t always accept but tonight…tonight it seemed too cold outside, home seemed too far away even with a shortcut, and Paps was probably already asleep. Still, he couldn't resist adding, "got a burning desire tonight, do ya?"

Silence. Sans wondered if he was about to get tossed out on his non-existent ear and accepted it as his due. Instead, he felt a gust of heated air on the back of his skull, almost like a reluctant chuckle. Hey, that was already better than most of his audiences.

Sans stretched, bracing his hands in the small of his back and groaning. "we gonna do this upstairs like adults?"

A crackle of agreement, less words than simple approval, and Sans knew the way. Not like it was hard to figure out; a trip through the fire escape, past the kitchen, and up the stairs was hardly a puzzle worthy of his brother’s usual.

He'd barely made it through the door when a sudden rush of heat pressed against his back, flaring over him as fiery arms wrapped around him. Drawing him insistently towards the sofa and Sans could appreciate that, the way Grillby tugged him along rather than scooping him up. That was something about Grillbz that Sans had always cherished, ‘cause nothing put Sans off his game faster than getting yanked off his feet. He was short, yeah, but he wasn't a kid and wasn't about to let anyone treat him like one.

Grillby sat on the sofa, drawing Sans in to stand between his legs. Not exactly the subtlest of hints.

“oh, you really are in a mood,” Sans murmured. He could count on one hand the amount of times Grillby had wanted him on top, a fire elemental's dominating nature coupled with Sans’s natural laziness.

But tonight, ah, tonight didn't feel like an ordinary night.

He let Grillby pull him in, drawing him down, and that heat, stars, just

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Stay Determined!

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It was late enough that the snow outside was falling into a hushed darkness. The glow of a sign flickered from open to closed, the shades drawn down and the door closed with the quiet click of a lock.

From his usual seat, Sans shifted uncomfortably, feeling oddly warm, prickles of unaccustomed heat rippling over his bones. Absently, he rubbed a hand over his skull, grimacing as magic-laced sweat clung to it.

Sans could hear the rasp of the broom and the quiet crackle of Grillby moving behind him. It should have been soothing, homely; instead, it made Sans feel restless and wanting.

"hey, uh, you mind if i…" he started, trailing off. Sans had never actually initiated, well, any of this. From the very beginning, it was Grillby who'd escalated ridiculous jokes into subtle flirting into…well, whatever this was. If he'd ever expected Sans to put any effort into it, he'd never said so, and Sans was usually more than content to follow wherever Grillby was leading this.

A sudden clatter behind him made him jump, half-turning to see what the sound was and he only caught a glimpse of the fallen broom before he was caught in a set of fiery arms, flailing briefly in shock as heat engulfed him.

Flames licked over him painlessly and Sans sighed, leaning back into their soothing caress. "sounds like a yes to me," Sans slurred out, and he couldn't bite back a whimper as a concentrated lick of heat trailed down his jawline to his collarbo

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Stay Determined!

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It was late enough that the snow outside was falling into a hushed darkness. The glow of a sign flared as ‘open’ faltered into ‘closed’ before the shades came crashing down, one side hanging lopsidedly, and the door slammed shut with a sharp crack.

Sans nearly fell off the stool, already struggling to strip off his hoodie. Grillby was flickering wildly, coming towards him so quickly it was as if he were the one who could teleport. Both hands fisting in Sans’s t-shirt and Sans could faintly smell the material scorching as (and for once he didn't protest the manhandling, not tonight, not, not,) he was lifted off his feet to sit on the edge of the bar, one slipper falling free. Kissing a fire elemental was a lot like licking a charred ember, bitter carbon and heat against his conjured tongue and

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You Cannot Give Up Just Yet...

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It was late enough that the snow outside was falling--

“oh, come on!” Sans burst out, flopping back onto the floor. His shirt was damp with sweat, his hoodie hanging off one arm as he struggled to get it off, off!

Grillby rolled them so that Sans was on top, practically falling between his legs, both of them struggling to undo his belt, fuck, why couldn’t he wear shorts like Sans did, and his moan echoed through Sans’s skull as he got a hand between Grillby’s legs. His cunt wasn’t wet, how the fuck could it be, but it was something, slippery to the touch, all but sucking his fingers in greedily and Sans jerked his shorts down, his cock so hard it ached, felt like he’d been hard for fucking ever when he managed to line up and push into that slippery, wicked heat, their mutual scream echoing through the bar.

Sans was too short to kiss and fuck at the same time, had to settle for watching Grillby writhe under him and yeah, that was fine, got him a front row seat to the show. The way his fingers scrabbling against the floor as Sans started to thrust, leaving blackened scorch marks, his soundless cries reverberating through Sans’s skull like shouting in a cave in Waterfall, fuck, yes, gorgeous as hell. The ripple of his pussy around Sans’s cock was almost uncomfortably hot and he was already embarrassingly close, orgasm spangling its way up his spine while the salt taste of his own sweat clung thickly to the back of his tongue.

Close, so fucking close, he was cl

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You're Going To Be Alright!

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Sans accepted the cigarette wearily, pulling in a long drag. The floor of the bar was clean enough, but it sure as fuck didn’t meet the librarby dictionary’s definition of comfortable. The smoke filled his rib cage as he inhaled, nicotine incorporating into his magic along with the weird, sated feeling of somehow being well fucked. Didn’t make any kind of sense, how they went from Grillbz closing the bar to somehow ending up on the floor with an afterglow, but eh, Sans wasn’t gonna question it too hard.

“someday, you’re going to have to explain how you manage to roll your own, grillbz,” Sans said, lazily. Grillby’s cig was smoldering to cinders from the first second it touched his ‘mouth’.

His arm without the cigarette worked decently as a sort of overly warm pillow beneath Sans’s skull. Nice thing about not having bones of his own was that Grillbz could twist his arm about any which way he liked, which, right now meant his warm fingers were grazing against Sans’s jawline. Stay over?

Sans snorted aloud, leaning into that touch. "may as well. the way things are going, seems like this could be a long nigh

-fin

#Sansby #keelywolfe #fanfiction #lemony goodness

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