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jessybarnes · 1 year

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Patience

Title: Patience

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Rating: 18+ Only! Minors DNI!

Word Count: 2,934

Tags: SMUT, angst, fluff, cockwarming, submissive Bucky, handcuffs, drinking, flirting, pet names, maybe slight degradation if you squint, slight dom/sub, masturbation, fingering (female receiving), clit play, permission to cum, edging, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, begging, crying, explicit sexual content, explicit language, and I think that's it.

Written For: @buckybarnesbingo, @sebastianstanbingo, and @anyfandomangstbingo

Square(s) Filled: Y1 - Kink: Cockwarming for Bucky Barnes Bingo // G5 - Submissive!Bucky Barnes for Sebastian Stan Bingo // G2 - Handcuffs for Any Fandom Angst Bingo

Dedicated To: @buckyalpine - I love you, bby ❤️ I really hope you like this 🥺 It's a thank you for all of the amazing content you've put out for us.

Beta(s): Just Grammarly

A/N: I'm so sorry this is bad... I've been so busy these last couple of weeks with Thanksgiving and yesterday was my stepdaughter's birthday and today is my daughter's so I've had basically no time to write. I really hope this isn't terrible, but I'm so sorry if it is. Also, have I already used the below GIF before for one of my fics? Yes. Am I using it again? Yes. Will I probably use it for a future fic? Also, yes. 🤷🏽‍♀️

You sip your drink as you watch Bucky from the bar. Currently, he's smiling at something Steve said, his flesh hand patting the blonde super soldier on the back while his metal one holds his glass of Asgardian mead.

You're not one for parties, but you know it means a lot to Bucky that you're here with him. He's finally rid of the Winter Soldier, the assassin side of him that he's battled to overcome for years, and in true Stark fashion, he threw your boyfriend a party.

It feels like everyone Tony has ever talked to is here, and crowds make you anxious, so the bar is where you'll be until Bucky's ready to go.

Natasha refills your glass and smiles at you warmly, "he's come a long way."

You swirl the amber liquid around a bit before taking a healthy drink.

"He has. I'm so grateful to Wakanda and the Dora Milaje for helping him. It took a while, but we're finally here."

She nods and pours herself a shot, "it's been a long time coming."

"Speaking of coming, I feel like everyone and their mother came to this thing. I don't even know half the people here..."

Nat snorts, "it's Tony, what did you expect?"

"Touché."

A comfortable silence settles between the two of you and you feel yourself starting to unwind.

Finally.

You finish your second drink and motion for Natasha to refill it again. She sets the bottle down and glances over your shoulder shaking her head.

"Looks like one of the secretaries has taken a liking to Barnes."

Well, so much for being able to relax.

You turn in your seat and watch as a pretty blonde touches his arm softly, batting her eyes at him like a giddy schoolgirl.

Bucky doesn't reciprocate, but he doesn't shoo her away either. He looks up at you momentarily and bites his lip before smiling at the girl in front of him. You know he's not really interested in her. He'd never cheat on you. It still doesn't change the fact that he's deliberately flirting with her in front of you though.

Your fingernail taps on the side of your glass as you grow more and more irritated. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and trails her index finger down the front of his shirt.

You grip the glass so hard that your knuckles turn white.

"I'll pay you later, Natasha," you down the rest of your whiskey and slam the glass down on the bar top. "Right now I've got something to take care of."

You push through the crowd and tap the blonde on her shoulder. She whips around and gives you a pointed look, "can I help you?"

"Yeah," you raise an eyebrow, "you can help me by stopping yourself from eye fucking my boyfriend."

Her eyes go wide as she looks from you to Bucky. He shrugs and she huffs before walking away.

You glare up at him and he takes your hand, "oh, come on doll. I was just teasing you."

"Don't doll me, James. You know I don't like seeing you giving someone else that kind of attention."

His free hand wraps around your waist and pulls you into him, "come on, baby. Don't be like that."

Steve chuckles, "I don't know, man. That girl was looking at you like you put the stars in the sky, and it's not like you pushed her away when she touched your chest."

"Who's side are you on, pal?" Bucky narrows his eyes at his best friend.

You've had enough. This party, that girl, Bucky's attitude, all of it, and it stirs a possessiveness inside of you that you haven't felt in a long time.

"It's time to go."

Bucky's eyes go wide, "go? But the party just star-"

"I said it's time to go."

Steve whistles as you drag Bucky toward the elevators, "good luck!"

Once you get him back to your shared bedroom, you shut and flick the lock.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., please tell anyone who comes to our door that we aren't taking visitors."

"Yes, Miss Y/L/N."

Bucky leans against the wall and looks down at you softly, "I swear I didn't mean to upset-"

"Well, you did. Take your clothes off and lay on the bed."

"Y/N, please just let me properly apologize to you."

Your hands move to your hips and you give him a stern look. To anyone who isn't familiar with your relationship, it would be quite comical seeing your tall, muscular, super-soldier boyfriend being so submissive to you. You know he needs this though, to be able to let go and give himself completely to someone he knows won't hurt him. And who are you to deny him that? Especially since you love the rush of taking control sometimes.

"Don't make me ask you again, James."

Bucky bites his lip as he stands up straight. He pulls the red henley he's wearing over his head, and you watch the movement of his well-defined muscles with hooded eyes. He undoes the button on his jeans and slides them and his boxers down to his ankles before stepping out of them.

"I really am sorry, baby"

"I know you are." You gesture behind him, "I've changed my mind. Sit with your back against the headboard."

He turns to walk over to the bed and you groan at the unimpeded view of his ass. Fucking hell, he's perfect.

He settles on the comforter and looks at you with curious, blue eyes. You don't say anything to him as you walk into the closet. Moments later you return with two pairs of silver handcuffs dangling from your fingertips and you watch his cock twitch in interest.

"Y/N, I don't see how this is a punishment," he drawls.

You smirk and cuff each of his hands to the small metal hoops that jut out from the side of the headboard. These were no ordinary handcuffs either, they were made with raw vibrainium which means he can't get out of them easily.

"Trust me," you step back and reach behind you to pull the zipper on the back of your dress, "you'll see."

Bucky watches as the little black dress falls to the floor and pools around your feet, his eyes darkening with want.

"God, you're so damn gorgeous, baby."

You smirk, "and it's too bad you won't get to touch me." You smooth your hands over your soft skin, your fingertips barely catching your nipples making you gasp. "I was really looking forward to those big, strong hands all over me, Buck."

He groans and watches you take off your bra and panties, "come on, pretty girl. Please let me touch you...please?"

You climb on the bed and straddle his chest, his cock beginning to leak in anticipation of your touch. You ignore the urge to and slide two of your fingers between your soaked folds instead.

"Mmm, you should have thought of that before ... fuck ... before you flirted with that secretary.

He watches you circle your clit slowly, his eyes nearly black now as he tugs harder at the cuffs.

"Baby... fuck, baby please!"

"Shit, I'm so wet for you, Bucky...feels so good..."

You bring your glistening fingers to your lips and close your mouth around them, licking them clean of your arousal. Bucky whines and raises his hips in frustration.

"Let me have a taste, please baby? Please! I'm so sorry for even looking at her... God, please...need you so bad..."

You tilt your head to the side and look down at him. His eyes are desperate and you almost give in and undo the handcuffs.

Almost.

"Aww, do you need a taste? Do you want me to sit on your face, baby boy?"

Your tone is teetering the line of sincere and condescending, and it makes another bead of precum spill from the head of his cock. Your words alone are making him fall apart. You've never been this dominant with him and he'd be lying if he said he didn't like it.

"...please."

It's merely a whisper, but you hear him nonetheless and decide to take a little mercy on him.

"Lay on your back for me, baby."

Bucky scoots down, his arms suspended slightly upward and out to the side as he lays flat. You move so your legs are on either side of his head and hover your dripping pussy over his lips.

"Since you love using that pretty mouth to tease and flirt so much, why don't you put it to good use and make me cum. Maybe if you do a good job I'll let you fuck me."

Bucky licks his lips, "I'll make you feel real good, doll. Please... just please let me taste you..."

You lower yourself down to his mouth and he immediately begins ravishing you. His tongue skillfully slides between your folds, alternating from your hole to your clit making you moan.

He's always been so good at this. Taking you apart over and over again until you're a shaking, quivering mess. But this? The way he's delving his tongue into your dripping cunt, devouring you as if he needs you to survive, it's another side of him you've never seen before and it's one of the hottest things you've ever experienced with him.

"Fuck... yeah, baby just like that."

Bucky groans and moves back to your clit, sucking it and flicking it with the tip of his tongue. His untouched cock is leaking profusely now. He's determined, desperate to feel you cum, desperate to make you fall over the edge and taste you.

It isn't long until the familiar coil begins to ignite and your legs start to shake from the amount of pleasure your boyfriend is bringing you. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling it as your hips rock against his mouth.

"Oh, Bucky! Don't stop, baby! Don't you fucking stop... oh, my god...fuck, you're gonna make me cum!"

He moves his tongue faster, tugging at the cuffs and wishing he could grip your luscious thighs.

Your eyes flutter closed and you throw your head back as your orgasm shoots through you like a bolt of lightning. Bucky doesn't stop, and you let him work you through your high until it becomes too much. Finally, you climb off of him and lay on the bed at his side, moving your fingertips up and down his thigh slowly while he breathes heavily.

"Did such a good job for me, baby. You made me cum so hard."

Bucky turns to look at you, "does that mean I can fuck you now?"

You bite your lip and just barely graze his thick shaft.

"Oh, sweetheart, you didn't think it would be this easy, did you? You thought giving me one orgasm would warrant forgiveness for deliberately flirting with someone else in front of me?"

Bucky gasps and whines from your touch, his cock twitching in need.

"Doll, p-please...," his eyes shine with tears and his fists clench and unclench, "I'll never do it again, I promise! Please I...I need you so bad...so bad, baby..."

You kiss his lips and shush him, before carefully straddling his hips. His eyes are wide and needy as he looks up at you, and your heart thuds hard against your ribcage. He's so fucking beautiful like this. All spread out for you. Needy and begging for your touch.

Bucky is so good at being in control when you need him to, but at times like this, he's the prettiest submissive you've ever seen.

"Sit back up for me, honey. I'm going to give you a reward, okay?"

He nods and scoots back up so his back is against the headboard again. He watches as you rise on your knees and reach behind you. His eyes roll back into his head as you wrap your fingers around his cock, and you immediately pull them away.

"Ah, ah, ah...keep those eyes on me, baby."

Bucky nods and you curl your fingers around him again before lining him up with your entrance. You're so wet that you don't even need him to prep you.

Ever so slowly, you sink down on his thick, hard cock. Bucky's so worked up that you can feel him throbbing as you take him to the hilt.

"You're so fucking big, baby. Mmm, you fill me up so well. Does this feel good, sweetheart?"

He shudders and resists the urge to raise his hips so he'll go deeper, "so good...feels so good."

"Is this what you wanted, honey?"

Bucky swallows thickly and lets out a shaky breath.

"Wanna...wanna feel you ride me. Please...please just wanna cum for you."

You cradle his face in your hand and brush the pad of your thumb over his stubble, "only good boys get what they ask for, baby. Besides, I love feeling you just like this. So deep inside me, the head of your pretty cock kissing my cervix, you make me feel so full."

Bucky whimpers and you lean forward to kiss him again, your mouth moving against his slow and sweet.

He kisses you fiercely and you reciprocate with just as much fervor. Bucky could stay like this forever, just drowning in the way you feel around him, in your touch, and your taste.

You pull away and smooth your thumb over his bottom lip, "if I uncuff one of your hands, are you going to be good for me?"

The thought of being able to touch you makes his eyes fill with tears as he nods enthusiastically.

"If you can be a good boy for me I'll ride you, baby."

You reach for the handcuff keys on the bedside table and uncuff his metal hand.

"Rub my clit, baby boy. Make me cum around your cock."

Bucky reaches down to where the two of you are joined and touches the cool metal of his thumb to your bundle of nerves. You gasp at the contrast of temperatures as he begins making tight circles.

"Fuck, Bucky..."

You rock your hips slightly back and forth, cupping your breasts as hot sparks of arousal shoot through you. A low rumble sounds in Bucky’s chest when he feels you clench around his cock, and he has to force himself not to cum.

"God, baby...can feel you squeezing me. Wanna watch you come undone with my cock buried inside of you. Please, princess? Please come for me..."

The way he's begging for you, the feeling of the smooth metal of his gold and black thumb moving over your clit, and how fucking good it feels to have his thick cock stretch you open sends you falling over the edge for a second time. His name tumbles past your lips over and over and spots dance in your vision as you cum hard for him.

You're both panting when you finally open your eyes again. Bucky's shaking, his eyes are still wide and shining as he silently begs for release and you finally, finally give in to him and plant your palms on his chest.

"You've been such a good boy for me, honey. I'm gonna ride this beautiful cock and I want you to tell me how good it feels, but you can't close your eyes. I want you to look at me when you cum."

You know he's not going to last long. Not when you've worked him up this much, so you don't bother starting slow. You move up and down at a steady pace, listening to his needy, desperate moans.

His metal hand grips your hip and helps to guide you as you start to go faster, and you can feel how close he is, his cock throbbing inside of you as his lips part in a silent scream.

"Oh, my god, babydoll... feels so good... m'so close! Gonna cum so hard for you, pretty girl. Please! Please am I allowed to cum? Can't hold it anymore...s'too much...feels too good... please ... please!"

You brush away his tears and lean down to capture his lips in a passionate kiss.

"Fill me up, baby boy. Come on, let go for me. Show me, sweetheart."

Bucky slams you down on his cock and holds you in place as he groans loudly into your neck. His orgasm crashing into him like a tsunami as he nearly sobs in ecstasy.

You pepper kisses all over his face and shush him as he shakes in your arms, sweet nothings falling from your lips as he comes down from his high. Eventually, you move to get up, but he whines and pulls you closer to him.

"I need to uncuff your other hand, honey."

"But I wanna stay inside you...please? Just wanna feel close to you."

Your eyes soften and you free his flesh hand, rubbing his wrist gently.

"We can stay like this as long as you need to, Buck. I'm not going anywhere."

He moves so you're both on your sides and slides his softening cock back inside of you gently. He sighs happily and buries his face in your neck.

"Love you, princess... love you so much," he whispers sleepily.

You kiss his forehead and rub his back tenderly, "I love you too, baby. Close those pretty eyes and sleep for me, okay? I'll be here when you wake up."

It isn't long until you feel his breathing even out, and you continue to hold him close as sleep begins to take you too.

You're happy and safe inside the embrace of the love of your life.

You're home.

Tagging: @buckyalpine @madashatters18 @sarahrogersevans @chrisevansdaughter @nerdygingermoose88 @brandyywar

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holylulusworld · 6 months

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One Summer Night - Kinktober 13

Summary: You meet a charismatic man at the farmer’s market.

Pairing: Cult!Leader Thor Odinson x fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: seduction, desire, smut, unprotected sex, needy reader, public sex/kinda public claiming, voyeurism

Square 3 filled for @anyfandomangstbingo: Square 3: Cult AU

Kink: Sex Cult

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

The first time you saw him he walked through a field of yellow wildflowers. He looked like he was out of this world. Chest bare, barefoot and his shaggy hair blowing freely in the wind.

He looked up at the blue sky, and let the sun kiss his skin.

For a moment you watched the man until more people joined him.

Mostly women who looked like they were hypnotized by his beauty, or something else. You didn’t know.

Eyes glued to the man you watched him run one hand over his naked chest while the other gently touched the flowers.

You dropped your gaze the moment his eyes found yours. He smiled and plugged a flower to tug it behind his ear.

It looked like he was watching you and your heart thundered in your chest. He walked toward you, as your feet felt like you were frozen to the ground.

The spell he held over you was broken when your aunt called your name and grabbed your arm.

“Y/N, don’t you ever get involved with that…hippie. He’s no good and means trouble. Everyone knows he’s the leader of a sex cult or shit.”

“Sex cult?” you glanced at the beautiful man standing only a few feet away from you. He smirked and studied your face as your aunt tried to drag you away. “Stay away from my niece. You won’t get her too!”

He raised his hands in surrender, making things worse for you. Your eyes dropped to his abs, leading you down to the prominent erection he didn’t even try to hide.

“Little wildflower, if you are ever free of that woman, come see me,” he spoke to you. You shuddered and clutched your hands to your sides.

It felt like his words went straight to your heart, running through your body to reach a much lower region…

“Y/A/N, it’s the farmer’s market, not an enemy base,” you rolled your eyes as your aunt scrunched up her nose. Unlike you, she never liked spending time at the farmer’s market. “How about I get everything we will need for the pie festival, and you can go home and rest?”

“My bench in the garden is waiting for me,” she considered your suggestion. Your aunt feels responsible for you, even though, you are an adult, and a grown woman.

“Alright,” you clapped your hands. “I didn’t come here to spend my vacation with you to sit around and do nothing. Let me handle this.”

“Don’t stay here too long,” your aunt said. “Uh-and don’t talk to strangers. If that bastard shows up, ignore him. Do not get too close to him. He comes here every summer, looking for God knows what.”

“Auntie,” you sighed but smiled at her. “I’m a grown woman, you know.”

“You’re still the little girl I raised,” she tutted and patted your cheek. “Stay out of trouble, young lady.”

You grinned. She won’t ever change, and you love her for it.

“Wildflower,” you felt his presence before you heard his voice call for you. The man in the wildflower field suddenly stood right in front of you.

That day, he was wearing an unbuttoned button-up shirt. He was still barefoot and looked like the hippie your aunt called him, but you’d call the shirt progress.

“Mr.,” frowning you realized you didn’t know his name. “Sorry, I don’t know your name,” feeling your cheeks heat up you let him take your hand to press a soft kiss to your knuckles.

That feeling overwhelmed you once again. This time it went straight to your lower half, making you soak your panties.

“Names are only...,” he cupped your chin to tilt your head, humming as your eyes fluttered shut, “for the people with no fantasy. You can call me anything you want to.”

“I prefer a name,” you murmured but allowed him to stroke your cheek with his knuckles. “Please…”

“Thor, little wildflower. That’s the name the immortals gave me when they created me to bring sun, love, and new life to this world.”

You giggled at his words. Your aunt was right. Thor did sound like the leader of some cult. But this didn’t stop you from dreaming of offering your body and soul to this man.

“My name is Y/N.”

“No. Your name is Sif, my Goddess and future mother of my children. We will bring love and hope to this rotten world, my little wildflower.”

“No…I’m Y/N.” You tried to open your eyes, but it was so hard to fight the warmth on your cheek from his hand.

“You are my fate,” he murmured as he dipped his head to press his lips to yours. Your eyes snapped open, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, almost pouncing on Thor to taste more of him. “Come with me and meet my companions. They can hardly wait to get to know you.”

“I can’t,” you whispered. “My aunt is waiting for me.” You looked up to Thor, the personalized sin. “She warned me to get involved with you.”

“Of course, she did,” he purred against your lips. “You’ll come to me, sooner than later. I’ve chosen you to become my mate for the coming eons…”

“Y/N, what’s wrong with you today?” Your aunt watched you poke the pie on your plate. “Are you not hungry? Do you want to go home?”

“Did you ever feel deeply for a person you just met?” You glanced at your aunt before dropping your eyes to your hands. “With your heart, body, and soul?”

“What did that man do to you?” She shook her head. “Please don’t tell me you fell for him too. He ruined so many girls. Every summer he comes over to our little town like a force of nature. He seduces women here and there only to disappear until the next summer.”

“He didn’t do a thing. We didn’t do a thing,” you spluttered. “I was wondering if you felt like this too when you were younger. He means trouble, so much I know. But I can’t help it. I’m drawn to him.”

You met Thor again only a few days later. This time he came to your aunt’s garden and talked you into following him to the wildflower field.

Walking next to him, fingertips touching the yellow wildflowers you tried not to think too much.

“Come with me. The moon is right,” he said, grabbing your hand to guide you toward a secret place. A spot you never set foot in before.

Thor led you toward a wild of pink orchids, protected by large oaks.

In the middle of the field stood a statue. It looked like a God. Its right arm stretched towards heaven, the other one holding a large hammer.

“Where are we?” you whispered as his companions stepped toward the statue. They all kneeled and placed a pink orchid to the statue’s feet, mumbling words you didn’t understand. “Thor, what are they doing?”

Your eyes grew wide when the women and men stripped each other bare. “Just watch my little wildflower. And if you are ready, we will join them.”

Gasping you had to watch them all gather around the statue. This time they didn’t pray. This time they start to chant a name and move their body to music only they seem to hear. It was beautiful and terrifying at the same time how they chanted themselves into a trance-like status.

For a moment, it seemed like the statue smiled down at you. You blinked a few times to be sure you didn’t imagine things but its face remained stoic.

“What are they doing?”

“They call for me, my wildflower. They want us to unite to bring eternal summer, love, and fertility back to this town,” he wrapped his arms around you. “Give yourself to me.”

“Give myself to you.”

He started to sway to music you couldn’t hear, but your body moved on its own. You let him slide the straps of your dress down. It fell to the ground, but you didn’t care.

“You’re meant to be mine,” he whispered in your ear while guiding your body, making you dance with him. “You’re going to be mine forever.”

The people turned their attention toward you and Thor. They cheered him on as he slid your panties down and ripped your bra off of your chest.

“Look at my bride,” he shouted out a victory cry. “She’s going to be my mate.”

You felt like you were lost in limbo, his arms the only anchor keeping you in this world. He picked you up, carrying you toward the statue.

You’re not sure it happened, but the flowers seemed to form a bed. Thor placed you on the flowers and spread your legs.

You heard gasps and chants but all you could focus on was Thor taking off his clothes. He looked down at you, nodding in approval when you spread your legs.

His blue eyes seemed to sparkle when he laid with you. He took his rightful place between your thighs, claiming what he told you was his all along.

Thor sank into you, inch per glorious inch. He whispered gentle words, but his hands roughly pinned your wrist down, keeping you immobile as he started to move inside of you.

“All-father, watch me claim my bride,” he chanted while his hips mercilessly crashed into yours. You were writhing underneath him, crying at the intense pleasure he forced you to endure. “She’s my goddess. Give me your blessings.”

Lightning hit the ground right next to your head, but you didn’t care. Your body craved something more than survival.

“Thor,” you began to meet his thrusts, encouraging him to take you harder. “More…deeper…I’m yours.”

“Thor, our god.” The crowd began to chant. They kneeled next to you, watching you and Thor unite. “Give her your seed.”

Thor gripped your thighs, spreading you wider to watch his cock slide in and out of your dripping cunt. He growled like a feral animal.

“Have my seed, my little wildflower,” his features softened, and he released your wrist, allowing you to touch him. “Cum for me. I want to feel your pleasure.”

“Oh…I’m gonna cum,” your hands move to his back to hold tight onto Thor.

His warmth filled you, but he didn’t let up. Thor pushed into you, over and over again until you tightened around him.

Your eyes sparkled, and your skin began to glow. It felt like your body wasn’t yours any longer. Thor now owned it, but you didn’t mind.

“Watch my goddess transform into her true form.”

He slipped out of you, smiling down at your trembling body.

“All-father, give her your blessing,” he chanted as another lightning hit the ground next to you. You felt like you began to float, and maybe you did.

You still don’t know.

Blinding light covered your whole body and wrapped you in its warmth until you felt nothing but love.

You sank back down on the bed of pink orchids, eyes fluttering shut.

“Yes. All-father.” Thor chanted even harder. “Please allow me to make her mine completely...”

That’s how you became the goddess of fertility, ruling this world alongside your lover. Thor, God of love, thunder, and summer.

From that night on, you walked this world with your mate, bringing summer, love, and fertility to the people.

Tags in reblog.

#thor odinson #thor odinson au #anyfandomangstbingo #thor odinson x reader #thor odinson x you #sex cult au #smut #thor odinson smut #thor odinson x y/n #thor x reader #thor x you #kinktober vs flufftober 2023 #One Summer Night - Kinktober 13

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sofreddie · 1 year

Text

Under My Skin

Summary: Dean calls you for help on a case. But when things go sideways, true feelings surface.

Characters: Dean Winchester x Unnamed Female Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Gunshot Wound/Injury, Smut (Unprotected Sex), Aftercare

DEAN: ENEMIES TO LOVERS (@spndeanbingo)

FLUFF: BLACK TIE EVENT (@anyfandomfluffbingo)

ANGST: GUNSHOT WOUND (@anyfandomangstbingo)

KINK: AFTERCARE (@anyfandomkinkbingo)

WC: 3796

A/N: First time writing Second POV (You). Been sitting on this one a while, trying to get it right. Hope you enjoy! : )

Dean Freaking Winchester.

The man. The myth. The legend.

You couldn't stand him.

You had known the Winchesters for the better part of five years, having crossed paths time and again for various hunts. The truth was you liked hunting alongside the Winchesters. There was never a dull moment and working with the best made you feel like one of the best.

Sam was always a pleasure. You loved fighting beside the massive giant and you loved chilling with a beer after a job well done. Sam was easy to talk to and you had a lot in common. There were times you wished there was some sort of romantic spark between the two of you, but life doesn't always work out that way. You weren't ashamed to admit he was hot either, but again, it just wasn't like that with the two of you. You were grateful for the solid friendship nonetheless.

Dean, however, was another story entirely. Just the sound of his name had you rolling your eyes. Never has anyone ever made you as infuriated as that green-eyed menace. When it came to hunting, Dean was competitive and challenging, always goading you and pushing you to your limits. And off the hunt? Well, that was a whole other matter in itself. The way he'd flirt with anything in a skirt, taking girl after girl back to his motel room, rambling on and on about his skills in the bedroom.

He was the single most irritating person you'd ever met in your life.

So when his name popped up on your caller ID, you were tempted to just ignore it. But you knew Dean wouldn't call unless it was important.

"Winchester," you answered curtly, letting him know off the bat you weren't having any of his usual whatever.

"Hiya, Sweetheart," he crooned and you could hear that damn smirk in his tone. "Miss me?"

"With every shot so far," you sighed into the line, ignoring his annoying chuckle.

"Was hoping you could help me out on a case?"

"Sam's usually the one who calls."

"Yeah, well, Sam's tied up on a different case at the moment and I could use the backup." You couldn't fight the smirk on your face at his words. Dean knew you were a good hunter and you felt a bit of pride at the fact that he trusted you to be his backup. "So, whaddya say? It's a fancy affair."

You thought about it for a second. If Dean said it was fancy, that meant dressing up, and it had been quite a while since you'd had the chance to dress up for anything more than a drink at the bar. If nothing else, you'd get a little glitz and glamour in your evening while working at the same time.

"Send me the address and details," you decided as you packed up your things. You'd need to stop along the way and do a little shopping. "I'll meet you there."

Ending the call you took a deep breath, glancing around the motel room to make sure all your things were packed. Making your way to your car, you threw your bag in the backseat before climbing behind the wheel.

If you just threw yourself into the job, focused on the case at hand, you'd get through it and possibly have a little fun while you're at it. You just hoped Dean wasn't his usual Dean self, especially without Sam there as a buffer.

You thought you were clever. You knew the outfit you bought looked fantastic and you expected to knock Dean back a bit.

You did not expect how good that man wore a suit.

Or how the sight of him in a tuxedo knocked the breath from you and had you staggering on your feet for a second.

When you walked out of the bathroom, dressed for the evening, Dean's eyes bulged out of his head. He knew when he called you that he would see you dressed up - something he'd never witnessed before - but even his wildest imaginings couldn't have produced the stunning image that stood before him.

You had always just been a friend, a fellow hunter, one of the team. Dean and Sam trusted you and knew you were skilled, having been in the life for many years.

The two of you seemed to hit it off right away, or so he thought. At the end of the first case, when celebratory drinks were being had, Dean thought for sure he knew where the night was leading. But then you cooled off at some point during the night, all but ignoring him until you dismissed yourself back to the motel.

Dean had wondered what he'd done wrong. He'd thought over everything again and again and couldn't think of any reason other than you just didn't really want him that way. So he found himself a distraction from it all that night.

From then on, any time you saw each other, you were angry and argumentative. But you were still able to get the job done, better than damn near anyone, and looked incredible while doing so. His feelings from that first night never left or faded. If anything they grew over the years he had known you. But he kept it well hidden, not wanting to embarrass himself when you clearly weren't interested.

The past few times they'd run into you though had Dean feeling differently. He wasn't sure if it was the changes in his life or getting older or something else. But he began to feel like maybe he should say something about feeling like they could be more than just friends.

It was a fleeting thought initially, but it kept popping into his mind, taunting and teasing him with relentless 'what ifs'. So when a case came up and involved some undercover work, he jumped at the chance to see you and work with you again, hoping maybe with just the two of you, he could see if you were feeling that change too.

Though, seeing you eyeing him up much the same as he had to you brought him back to his senses, a knowing smirk on his face. He couldn't help the amused chuckle that passed his lips. You rolled your eyes and sat on the end of the bed, putting on your strapped heels.

"You look absolutely stunning in that dress."

He bit his lip as you stood, slowly sauntering over to him. His eyes trailed over your body, growing darker with every step you took. As you stood before him, tilting your head a little to meet his eyes, he bit his lip.

"You don't look so bad yourself, Winchester."

The tension hung between you for a moment before you shook yourself free. With a small smirk, you walked around him, retrieving your clutch from the table.

"Is that a piece of ice chipping off, Sweetheart?"

You didn't have to see his face to know he stood behind you with that damn infuriating smirk of his. As you turned around, clutch in hand, Dean was standing much closer than you expected.

"You ready for the best night of your life?" Dean teased.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, "I bet you say that to all the girls." As you made your way to the door, you missed the slip in his smile and the flash of hurt in his eyes.

As his hand landed on your lower back, guiding you out of the motel room and to the Impala, you couldn't help the smile on your face. He had never been this sweet and attentive in all the time you'd known him. It almost felt like an actual date, the thought making your stomach do summersaults.

Then your mind reminded you that he really did do these things for all the women, all the time. It was just another case, just pretend.

From the moment you arrived at the extremely lavish mansion for the Gala, Dean's hands never left you. Whether on your lower back, or holding your hand, or hooked through your arm, he was always touching you, always right there.

It was comforting and maddening in equal measure.

He was so charming, so insistent on having a good time while they hunted. It was infectious and you found yourself sipping champagne and giggling with the older Winchester as yours eyes scanned the crowd.

You were looking for a Shifter. He would find and kill rich people, hiding the bodies long enough to take on their form and rob them of their riches. Dean had spotted him first, dressed in a tuxedo and the face of his last victim, chatting and charming an elderly widow whom they believed to be his next victim. She was one of the more wealthy patrons present.

You were caught of guard by Dean's sudden extended hand and half-smirk, "Dance with me?"

You glanced a this hand, then back to his eyes, "What? Why?"

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head before grabbing you hand and gently tugging you onto the dance floor.

"Surveillance," he shrugged as he placed your hands on his shoulders before gently holding you waist. "We can keep a closer eye on them and maybe listen in."

You couldn't argue his rationale, but the fact that he was clearly more interested in looking at you then them made you suspicious.

It took you a moment to recognize the song that was playing, I've Got You Under My Skin. You smiled at just how applicable it seemed to you. You definitely had Dean under your skin. You smiled to yourself at the thought.

"See?" Dean smiled down at you. "Not so bad, huh?"

"Didn't know you could dance."

"S'just rockin' side to side," he shrugged, making you giggle and shake your head.

He held your gaze as you swayed to the music. Your heart felt like it was swelling into your throat. His eyes, so intense and beautiful, felt like they were burning into you. You glanced at his mouth as his tongue peeked out to wet his lower lip before biting it. The action made your eyes flash back to his.

Were you about to kiss Dean Winchester?

When he broke eye contact you frowned. Had you misread the situation?

"They're gone," Dean announced, his eyes frantically searching the room. You frowned, scanning the room for yourself and finding the couple nowhere. "Damnit," Dean seethed.

Taking you by the hand, he led you both through the crowd in search of the Shifter. You were angry at yourself for getting distracted, for letting yourself entain thoughts of Dean instead of focusing on the case. You knew better, and you knew thinking of being with him in any sort of way was nothing more than a fantasy.

You were supposed to hate each other.

Making your way out of the back of the mansion, you and Dean looked around the dark night, trying to find any sign of them.

"Dean, there!" You said, pointing straight ahead, two figures barely visible in the distance. "They're headed towards the gardens."

You and Dean took off, readying your guns as you caught up to the sound of their voices. Rounding a corner, hidden behind the shrubbery of the gardens, the Shifter stood with the woman.

"Let her go," Dean demanded, his gun trained on the Shifter. You followed suit, standing a few feet beside Dean, your own gun aimed.

"Hunters," the Shifter growled, his grip on the moan tightening as he held her by the arm beside him.

Dean fired off a shot, hitting the man in the arm and forcing him to release the woman. You rushed towards her while the Shifter was distracted.

"Go," you urged, ushering her towards the path out of the gardens. It didn't take much urging and she was running off as quick as she could back towards the house.

AS you turned around, Dean fired again, the Shifter barely dodging it. Cursing to yourself, you took aim, but the Shifter produced a gun, already aimed at you.

Looking at Dean he growled, knowing there was no way out of this for him. "You cost me my woman, I'll cost you yours."

Without looking away from Dean, the shifter fired and you froze. It was as if time slowed down. You knew the bullet would hit you and you didn't have enough time to react. You saw a blur fly in front of you as another gunshot went off, making you jump and come back to your senses.

It was as if everything sped up once more.

The Shifter lay on the ground, a sizzling bullet hole in his head. You looked down at yourself, your hands frantically wandering your body, searching for the bullet wound. But you couldn't find or feel any wound.

A groan at your feet drew your attention and you saw Dean struggling to sit up as he cradled his arm, a bullet wound in his shoulder steadily bleeding.

"You're bleeding," you whispered, still in shock as you helped Dean to his feet.

"No kidding," Dean grumbled. "What the Hell happened?"

"I-I don't know," you admitted, not understanding it yourself. "I just…froze."

Dean huffed, still cradling his arm as he stomped his way out of the garden, "We need to leave before someone shows up and starts asking questions."

You stood there for a moment, looking over the dead shifter and the small pool of blood from Dean. The Shifter got the jump on you and you should have died, should have been hit by that bullet. But Dean jumped in front of you and took it instead, while he killed the Shifter.

You quickly caught up with Dean, the two of you making your way to the Impala and far away from the scene.

Dean was silently fuming the whole ride back to the motel. You knew he was pissed that you fucked up. He was pissed at being shot. Dean came out of nowhere, diving in front of you like some action hero, taking the bullet in his shoulder as he fired a shot, killing the intended target. You just stood there, frozen in shock knowing that bullet was meant for you and you couldn't do anything about it.

You should have been thankful, and you were. But the overwhelming guilt you felt over fucking up and, more importantly, almost possibly losing Dean had twisted your insides so much.

Dean grunted as you forced him down into the chair in the small motel room with a huff. Digging the first aid kit out of your duffel you came back to the small kitchenette table.

"You shouldn't have done that," you said through gritted teeth, helping Dean remove his ruined jacket and shirt.

He hissed as the material came away from the bleeding wound and you sucked in a breath at the sight of his bare torso. Did he have to be so damn distracting?

"Are you serious?" Dean glared at you as you refused to meet his eyes, instead focusing on patching him up. "I saved your ass back there!"

"You didn't have to take the bullet like that, Dean!" You huffed in anger, Dean growling as you were a little too rough, your emotions getting the better of you.

You knew he was right. Truth was, you were scared. Scared that you almost died. Scared that you could have lost Dean without ever having figured out what this weird thing between you was.

"I'm just supposed to let you die?" he growled, grabbing your wrist when you finished and forcing you to look at him.

Tears began to gather in your eyes and you weren't sure how much longer you could hold them back.

"You could've died too," you responded in a weak whisper, your heart feeling like it might burst as you realized just how much he meant to you. "I could've lost you."

The tears did fall then, a hiccupped sob catching in your throat. Dean's expression changed from anger to surprise. The air between you seemed charged, crackling with the intensity of whatever this thing between you two had always been.

Tugging at your wrist, he pulled you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you and keeping you straddling his thighs. You buried your face in his shoulder as you let the tears fall. Dean cradled you in his arms, holding you close and soothing you as you let it all out.

Once you were calm enough you pulled back to look at him through teary eyes.

"I'm okay," Dean insisted, his voice tender. "I'm right here, I'm okay."

You nodded, feeling like you might start crying again. Instead, you cupped his face, pressing your lips to his in a passionate kiss, hoping he could feel this crazy flurry of confusing emotions coursing through you. As he eagerly kissed you back, you knew he felt something too.

His hands were frenzied as you allowed yourself to drown in his kisses, the taste of his tongue. In no time at all, he had you stripped of your dress and bra, leaving you in your lacy panties and heels as you ground down against him.

Dean hissed, lifting you enough to hurriedly shove his slacks and boxers down to his knees, gathering you back tightly into his arms. You moaned as your lace-covered folds met his hot and hard length. Pressed between you, the tip grazed your belly. It both scared and thrilled you to take him.

Holding his gaze, you lifted your hips and pulled your panties aside. Catching the tip on your entrance, you slowly lowered yourself on his cock. Dean's hands squeezed your hips, his eyes watching as your pussy slowly swallowed up his length.

By the time your ass was flush with his thighs, you were trembling. Dean was huge, his girth stretching you more than you'd ever felt before. He was so long and hard, the head of his cock pressed firmly against your cervix.

You shifted your hips experimentally, the mix of pain and pleasure making you gasp. Dean smirked, his hands helping to lift you on and off his cock at a slow pace. Before long you were riding his cock in earnest, your face buried in his neck, arms wrapped around his shoulders.

Dean met your every thrust, relishing in the desperate sounds of your moans and gasps, letting you use him how you needed. You felt amazing wrapped around him. You lifted your feet to rest on the side supports of the chair, your heels hooking onto the rails. Using the leverage, you rode Dean harder, your head was thrown back as you lost yourself to the bliss.

Dean leaned forward, your bouncing breasts too much for him to ignore. He wrapped his mouth around one, his hand teasing and pulling at the other, driving you closer and closer to your climax.

Without warning, you came hard, screaming out Dean's name as he rode you through your high. As you were coming down, Dean growled, his grip on you tight as he kicked off his pants and carried you over to the bed.

He laid you down, removing your panties but leaving your heels on as he climbed between your legs. Kissing you deeply he slid his cock back inside you, pressing as deep as he could go.

You moaned and Dean set a harsh pace, his face buried in your neck as he fucked you deep. You wrapped your legs around him, your heels digging into his lower back. He hissed, one hand finding the headboard for leverage, the other holding your hip as he gave all he had, grunting and growling with each thrust. You weren't sure if you were gonna cum or break or both.

Once again, he had you cumming harder than you'd ever felt before, stars swimming behind your eyes. Dean's moans and whines in your ear as he came, the twitching of his cock, the heat of his seed, were delicious and added to your euphoria.

Once calmed, Dean removed himself, plopping down onto the bed beside you with a heavy groan. As your mind cleared, the reality of what had just happened settled into your conscious. You had just had sex, with Dean Winchester. A man you were supposed to hate, who hated you. Right?

Turning your head you looked at Dean, his arm slung over his eyes as he caught his breath, a small smile on his parted lips. You sat up a little to admire him more when your eyes caught sight of the wound on his shoulder bleeding once again.

"Dean, you tore your stitches!" you announced in a panic as you climbed from the bed, throwing on your panties and a discarded flannel, hastily doing up the buttons as you retrieved the first aid kit. Turning back to the bed you saw Dean sitting up against the headboard, having put his boxers back on.

You sat on the bed beside him, cleaning and redressing his wound.

"Worth it," Dean mumbled tiredly with a smile. You couldn't help smiling back at him, shaking your head as you finished treating the wound.

"You need to take it easy or it won't heal," you chastised as you put away the supplies. "Here," you said, coming back with a bottle of water and some painkillers. "Take these, it'll help."

Dean complied, taking the pills and downing half the bottle of water, setting it on the nightstand. He snuggled back down into the bed, closing his eyes and ready for sleep.

You eyed him for a moment, debating if you should take the other bed. After all, it was just a quick, post-hunt, 'I almost lost you' romp, right? And you didn't want to hurt his wound by sharing a bed. With a huff you made your way to the other bed, starting to pull back the covers.

"What're you doin'?" Dean asked, sitting up on one elbow and looking at you like you'd grown a second head.

"I just thought-"

"Lay with me?" he asked and at that moment he looked so sweet and vulnerable.

Your heart clenched a little and you nodded, climbing into bed beside him, careful not to hurt him. Dean was quick to maneuver the two of you so he could hold you, your cheek pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped around you. You felt him place a kiss on your forehead and moments later he was asleep.

Your mind and heart were a confusing minefield of emotions, but in the safety and warmth of his embrace, you couldn't bring yourself to care. Deciding that was tomorrow's problem, you let yourself fall asleep.

FOREVERS:

@lyarr24

@hobby27

@kazsrm67

@maliburenee

@440mxs-wife

@writercole

@spnbaby-67

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@leigh70

@laycblack

DEAN WINCHESTER:

@slamminmine

@deandreamernp

@awkward-and-indecisive

@akshi8278

#spndeanbingo #anyfandomfluffbingo #anyfandomangstbingo #anyfandomkinkbingo #dean winchester #dean x reader #f!reader #smut #supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic

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blackwood4stucky · 23 days

Text

hoping these roses dull the pain, cover the scars and turn the page

author: aspen blackwood

james “bucky” barnes x steve rogers | mcu

masterpost | 🅴 | 🔞 | word count: 3,360 | complete

tags: alpha x alpha, drugged, forced sex, non con body bod, non traditional omegaverse, triggered mating, secondary gender modification, dark elements

"A peculiar scent fills Steve’s nose as he wakes slowly. He knows that scent, it is one that still haunts him, that whispers his failures in his ears like prayers." - There were turncoats on the Lemurian Star.

bingo fills + event prompts

ch. 1: hoping these roses dull the pain, cover the scars and turn the page

@anyfandomangstbingo | barely conscious

@anyfandomdarkbingo | fuck or die

@anyfandomgoesbingo | possessive alpha

@anyfandomkinkbingo | handcuffs

@badthingshappenbingo | mutilation

@buckybarnesevents

alpha bucky april | breeding kink + purring + double minimum requirement babb 2023 | failed mission [april prompt] babb 2023 [babb060] | held down connect 4 [c4013] | c1: sex slave

@catws-anniversary | theme: bucky barnes - metal arm

@deaddovekink

frisky february | drugged sex monsterfcking march | shapeshifting: transforming during sex

@eclipsingbingo | trail of blood

@fandom-free-bingo: valentine’s edition | aphrodisiac, bound

@hurtcember | forced

@julybreakbingo: post-july | sex pollen

@kinky-things-happen | transformation

@marvel-smash-bingo | forced orgasm

@mcukinkbingo: open round | torture

@multifandom-flash

omegaverse | forced mating round 2 [1028] | free space

scalding hot: consent issues bingo | non con body mod: extra fuck holes

@sebastianstanbingo | sex slave

@stuckybingo [5080] | kink: breeding

@stuckygeekevents: stucky geek bingo | captivity, kidnapped

@yearoftheotpevent | april: canon divergence

read: ao3 | ffn | sqwa

mini playlist

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all-alone-he-turns-to-stone · 2 years

Text

His Perfect Doll

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Summary: She’s a doll. Her only duty is to be perfect for him at all times. A doll doesn’t talk. Doesn’t express feelings. It exists, simply. So when, one day, the doll wants to show how much she loves him and puts on some lingerie, neither of them expect the effect it would have on him. And how it would make him and the man he keeps locked in his head… Snap.

Pairing: Michael!Dean x Reader

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 2788

Warning: dub-con, bothering non-con, stockholm syndrom, manipulation, objectification (a lot), smut, p in v, unprotected sex, use of grace to give more pleasure, overstimulation, possessiveness, somnophilia, passing out from too much stimulation

Squares: Stockholm Syndrom for @anyfandomangstbingo // Lingerie for @anyfandomkinkbingo

A/n: This was requested by @cryptichobbit! Thank you for the request, I had fun writing this! It has to be the dirtiest thing I wrote… Not proofreaded, sorry for any mistake! Feedbacks are always appreciated!

This is a dark fic. Mind the tags and warnings!

She was a doll.

Motionless most of the time. Her room was her prison, pink walls and bars to a window showing a freedom she couldn't have. Restricted to only this house, allowed to exit her bedroom to eat or go to the bathroom.

Her appearance was important, after all, as a doll, she had to be pretty at all times. Her makeup, subtle but flawless. Not a single spot of imperfection. Her hair, silky, soft, and combed as he liked.

Her doll duties were simple, she had to be there and ready whenever he would visit. It wasn't very often, so most of the time, she stayed in her room, simply existing.

She wasn't mad at him, though. She belonged to him and was now okay with that. It wasn't always the case, at first, she fought hard to get out. Spent nights screaming for help, trying to find a way out of this house. But she quickly understood there was no use of being a brat. She was a doll. His doll.

After a while of her having good behavior, he allowed her to go outside. At first, with surveillance, he then understood she would never leave, not anymore. She finally understood where her place was, and always came back. Now, she could go whenever she wanted, but she wasn't leaving the house. Just in case he passed by.

The last time she exited the house was to go shopping. She went really early, knowing he never showed up in the morning. By noon, she was back and resumed her role as a perfect, obedient, motionless doll.

He showed up the same evening. She always knew when he was there, not that he needed to say it outloud. It was like they were connected somehow, she could simply feel him when he was close. Feel all the power, all the heat, all the dominance. She craved that feeling, and everytime she felt him close, memories of their past moments flooded her mind, just like arousal flooded her panties.

He was in the living room, waiting for her. She knew. But tonight, it would be different. It was time she showed him how good she was, behaving to him, and how much she loved him. She wanted to show him. So, before leaving her room, she put on the clothes she bought in the morning and once she was sure her appearance was perfect, she left her room to walk where Michael was.

"Making me wait, doll," his voice reached her mind before it reached her ears. Like a thread was connecting their mind, she could almost taste the things he would do to her once he saw what she was wearing.

In the living room, he was seated on a chair, his back turned to her. Walking slowly even if the excitement made her want to run and jump on him, she put one foot in front of the other, reminding herself she had to be good.

Since he didn't give her the authorization to speak, she didn't apologize nor answer him, simply walking until she was finally in front of him.

Michael wasn't someone that showed a lot of reaction usually. His beautiful face remained neutral whatever she did, until the moment his cock sank into her core. The first penetration always broke his mask as his imposing length stretched her dripping cunt. Then he would fuck her for what seemed like hours, panting, frowning, but never showing any emotions until he came.

That was what usually happened. And she would cum countless of times, like he had some magic in him. Michael loved to see her break under all the pleasure he gave her. Just like he loved to see her break with his punishment, slapping her ass until it became red and then purple, or preventing her from cumming for the whole time he fucked her.

She didn't know which was worse.

But this time, when Michael laid his beautiful eyes on her, he had a reaction.

Sitting forward in the chair, he put his elbows on his thighs and his chin in his palm, turned his head to the side, and let his eyes roamed her frame. She stayed like that, hips to one side, head tilted to the other side, her hair cascading over her shoulder.

The lingerie she wore was made of silk. It was soft, so soft, that was why she picked it up. The color was a dark red, the bottom made of a thong barely hiding anything from the back. The bra didn't have a cup and did nothing to hide her breast, her nipples already hard just having him stare at her body. Laces were connecting the top and the bottom, and finally, socks were up to her thighs, holding up thanks to the suspender belt sitting on her waist.

Needless to say, he never saw her wearing that.

"I wonder," his voice purred from his throat, rough and deep, as his eyes glowed blue for a moment. "Why did I never give you those types of clothes before… you look…" His tongue licked his lips slowly as he sat back in the chair, eyeing her with fire in his eyes. "Delicious. Now. You put those on for me, you don't want to be rude to me, am I right?"

A shiver spread through her spine, saliva hard to swallow. She didn't expect that to be his reaction. All she wanted to do was please him, but as usual, his expression remained impossible to decipher.

"Answer me," he added and the order cut short all of her thoughts. She was allowed to speak.

"No, I don't want to be rude, sir," she said, still not moving from her position. As still as a statue, as flawless as a doll.

"Good," he purred, a smirk stretching his lips. "We cannot waste this. Dance for me."

Once again, she didn't expect those words to leave his mouth, but once again, the order made her obey. Whatever he wanted, she would give him.

There was no music, so she just imagined the rhythm of a slow song and started moving her hips side to side. Her hands roamed up her body until it got to her breast that she grabbed and then squeezed, stifling a moan that almost came through. Unless he allowed it, she had to stay silent. Moans included.

It was hard, though, to stay silent. Especially as his gaze kept turning bright blue and she could see him shift ever so slightly on the couch, his hands twitching against the armrest. Just like he was restraining himself from grabbing something else than the furniture.

To be that desired, that wanted, it sent a boost of confidence in her doll brain. Turning around, she showed him her butt that the thong did nothing to hide. As she touched her behind, her hand grabbed her cheeks and then spread them, showing how wet her core actually was. Biting her lips, she turned her head back to look at him and see his reaction, and this time, the moan couldn't be stopped from leaving her mouth.

It was the first time she saw him like that, his pants undone, his hard, imposing and beautiful cock in the palm of his hand. As Michael stroked himself, he kept on watching, mouth slightly agape, breathing fast…

The sigh was to die for. She would have loved to frame that image and place it directly in front of her bed so she can look at him every morning as she wakes up. But the perfect sight didn't stay long, actually, it broke the moment the filthy, needy sound escaped her mouth.

"Didn't say you could make noises," Michael was near her in an instant, her body flush against the nearest wall. She caught herself just in time, her hand cushioning the impact of the hard, imposing body behind her. In no time, her thong was tossed to the side and he was inside, his cock roughly stretching her apart. A louder moan escaped her lips, and she heard it too, the sound he always made the moment he slid home in her wet channel. "You are driving us crazy… so crazy…"

Michael's breathing was rusty and shaky and he didn't wait a single moment before he started pistoning. Hard, fast, so deep, his cock came in and out of her core, not leaving her any second to catch her breath. Moans and whimpers quickly turned into screams of pleasure as she all but held herself on the wall. She didn't need to, though. He was the one holding her body.

The first orgasm arrived so fast, she didn't get any of the warning signs. It seized her completely, her body shaking under him, and Michael never slowed down, he only fucked her faster. She was so sensitive and overstimulated that a second one followed immediately after, and her body shook even more. She would have fallen to the floor, but he held her strongly. Her abused core was so roughly fucked, it felt sore and burning hot, but thankfully, all of her juice allowed him to keep fucking at the same pace without any problem.

"She's mine," Michael grunted, and if it wasn't for the post orgasmic high she felt, she would have found it weird that he referred to her as the third person. Exactly like he was talking to a third person in the room. "Mine," he continued, gradually fucking her slower. His thrusts were now deep, angry, and everytime, his cock touched the bottom of her core, it made her gasp in pleasure that this kind of pain brought her. "You won't take her away from me," he accentuated what he was saying with rough thrusts that had her eyes roll to the back of her head. It was so good she could feel herself getting closer again.

As she felt his face cuddle in the crook of her neck, she thought he was close to his end. But oh, was she wrong. His thrusts were barely existent now, slow and calculated, and her body was soft, like a doll only good to be used. Everytime he moved, it touched everything inside of her, and she felt her climax so close yet so far, it made her body shake with the overstimulation and the closeness of her climax. Her mouth opened to beg, but then closed. She knew more than to beg when she wasn't allowed. Instead, she clenched down on him and moaned softly, trying to make him understand without words.

"You wanna cum? Huh? Wanna cum so bad you forget how to walk? How to be a human being?" His voice was the same. But something was different. His tone, the words he used and how he said them. It was like someone completely different was in control now, and somehow, it excited her even more. A needy, pathetic moan answered him, and next thing, her core was burning up.

It was burning and buzzing and vibrating, everywhere inside of her, like there was a toy fixed on every single nerve present in her lower body. An electric shock was close to the feeling, everywhere his dick touched, she felt it, her cunt was a living wire that had tiny explosions at the simple contact of his cock. And when Michael picked up his devastating pace, it was too much all at once.

It was an explosion. She was cumming, again and again and again and screaming and moaning, she couldn't stop cumming, and shaking, her body was seized with an uncontrollable surges of pleasure that seemed to never stop. It was so much, her head felt light, so light, white spots and then black spots danced in her sight and for a moment, she was sure she blacked out from the pleasure. But then, her eyes were open, and she was still getting fucked, hard, and the sensation was still there, and she was still cumming and screaming. By now, her legs were covered with her juices with how many times she squirted.

There was even a puddle at their feet.

But Michael didn't stop.

Even when she passed out again, he continued to fuck her. Holding her limp body, exactly like he was only fucking a doll. And even if she was out, her body was still reacting, he was still making her cum endlessly with his grace, and to feel her core shake around him was simply too good for him to stop. To know he owned her, could use her as he pleased, to control her body and mind… that was what Michael craved.

She was his doll after all.

After that one moment, the doll didn't see her owner for a long time.

The next day, she woke up in her bed, cleaned and in fresh clothes. Her body felt amazing, and when she checked, she could find no bruises or traces of what happened. And at first, she thought maybe it was only a dream. After all, Michael never acted like that, never showed emotions. And last night, there were a lot of emotions going on.

There was only one proof that what happened was true. A big box next to her bed, sitting on the nightstand. Did he leave her a gift?

The doll opened the package and now understood it was true. Because inside, there was clothes.

Not clothes, lingerie sets.

Dozens of revealing outfits, lace, thongs and straps. There were no notes with the box, but she knew.

The days turned into weeks and she still knew his absence wasn't because he disliked their night. He loved it too much. He left her with more lingerie. He loved it.

It had been almost two months since she last saw Michael when the men entered her house.

As usual, she was in her room, as motionless as a doll, looking out the window. She saw them arrive, a black car, quite old, parking right in front of the house. Two men got out, something shiny and grey in hand. Guns. And even if it was fast, she recognized one of the two men.

In a couple of seconds, she was dressed and laid down on the bed, waiting for him. It didn't matter if he was coming with another man, she was a doll and would do as he told her, even if it meant please someone else.

But when he opened the door to her room, she knew there was something off. Not only his outfit was different, but his hair too. And the aura she craved, the dominant, strong power he had over her was… almost instinct.

"Michael?" She asked even if she wasn't allowed to speak. The man looking like Michael took some time to process the word that came out of her mouth, and his gaze shift to the floor.

Shame. There was guilt and shame in his eyes and he tried to hide it. But why?

"Son of a bitch," he muttered, and that alarmed the doll. Getting up, she walked to him and took him in her arms.

"It's alright Michael. You can punish me for talking. But please, don't feel bad for leaving me here for so long. It's my duty."

She felt the man tensed under her arms, like the gesture of affection was too much for him. Maybe she went too far after all, hugging him? No, dolls don't hug their owner!

Stepping back, her gaze horrified at the thing she did, she noticed something else.

In the jeans he wore, there was a tent forming.

"Michael?" She asked, tears in her eyes at what would be her punishment.

"A doll doesn't speak, does she?"

He was still not looking at her. But even if his head was down, she knew. Knew his eyes were now glowing blue. The aura changed then, a strong, suffocating power circling her.

"You're lucky I found a way out of that jail in his mind. And you're lucky to wear that for me. I still have to decide if I want to punish you or make you cum until you pass out again."

There he was. Michael. Her Michael.

"Dean-"

The other man that came with Michael was thrown onto the wall immediately and fell to the floor, unconscious.

"Told you, Dean, she is mine. I knew you would lower your guard when you would see her. You fucked her as much as I did, after all…"

And like that, Michael made his decision. And he was inside of her before she even touched the bed.

Forever taglist: @nitnat6245 @b3autyfuldisast3r @eevvvaa @wickedinspirations @fictional-affairs @awkward-and-indecisive @cryptichobbit

Supernatural Tag List: @cryptichobbit @sexyvixen7 @stixnstripesworld @charred-angelwings @treat-winchesterswith-kindness @lyarr24 @fiftyshadesgrl

Dean Winchester Tag List: @akshi8278 @siospins2 @kazsrm67 @wtrpxrks @deanwanddamons @thoughts-and-funnies @charred-angelwings @jensendreamland @deanswaywardgirl @happyt0exist @waynes-multiverse

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nolanfa · 1 year

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Murderbot, in every. Single. Book: *lost half of its body mass and two thirds of its fluids because it decided the best way to deal with the guys who wants to kill them was for it to step in front of them waving a big red flag reading 'Shoot at me'* (talking to its team:) "are you okay?? Why did you do that you could have been hurt!!!! Why are humans so stupidly reckless! "

---

Fill for @anyfandomangstbingo's fill "broken arm"; title: "are you okay?"; pairing: none Here on AO3

#murderbot #murderbot diaries #secunit #anyfandomangstbingo #blood #gore #not that gory but still #nosfinal #fanart #nosart

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workingdownthewordmine · 10 days

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Love Thy Neighbour - Chapter 3 Unbidden Guest

Bucky's uninvited housemate makes themself known.

Read this chapter on AO3 here.

Chapter 2 | Chapter 4

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Nonbinary OC, Steve Rogers Rating: T CW: Violence, choking, threatening with a gun, bleeding, hearing voices, hearing the voice of an abuser, references to murder, torture, suicide, violence, sexual assault Prompts filled: Fandom Free Bingo Frosty Edition: Stay a while @fandom-free-bingo Fluffbruary: Day 26: Care package, Day 28: Shelter @fluffbruary Winter Wonderland: Covering the other with a blanket @seasonaldelightsbingo Any Fandom Angst: Held at gunpoint @anyfandomangstbingo LGBTQ+: Non-binary!Character @lgbtqbingo

Dividers by @unfortunate-beetle-and-friends

“Don’t ask the name of anyone that asks you for shelter.” Victor Hugo

It had been some time since Bucky had wished so fiercely that he could just stop waking up, stop coming back to a reality that became more of a nightmare each time. Before he opened his eyes he pleaded with the darkness to tighten again, to choke him back out of the world. A little longer, even if it couldn’t be forever, even if it could only be moments more before he had to open his eyes to-

A wet cloth on his skin, stroked down his cheek. For a handful of heartbeats, misery gave way to something almost like contentment. Complacency. Deadly. The horror burst through and propelled him into a rush of movement. He couldn’t go back. They wouldn’t take him back.

The body crouched over him was only a dark blur, hurled across the room and into a wall. It crumpled and he was upon it. His charge was clumsy but he didn’t need precision. His hand was around a throat. He’d need hardly a flick of a Vibranium wrist to snap their neck. The figure was smaller than him, pinned in his shadow, starting to tremble with the need for air. He had secured their arms beneath his knees without thinking about it, his shin across their legs to prevent them from kicking him. He was doing better. All that was left was the kill… It would be instant, almost entirely painless. He would not fail this time.

He froze. They weren’t struggling. They weren’t fighting him at all. There had been no raised alarm. No other movement in the room except the two of them. Bucky struggled to focus through blinding panic and burning eyes. He loosened his grip just enough to allow them a breath, and pushed the muzzle of his pistol beneath their chin. “Why shouldn’t I kill you right now?”

They looked up at him without terror, as though the ease with which he could end their life concerned them little. “Look at your hand.” Reluctantly, he allowed his eyes to flicker downwards – perhaps because the words had been more of a plea than a demand or a threat, or perhaps because defying the voice telling him to do what he was made for and kill was taking too much of his concentration. Even in the gloom, he could see the wet shine, and the scent of blood rose thickly from it. He’d felt no pain at all. “There’s no wound. It’ll stop in a few seconds. I – I could have put the bleed in your neck, or your brain. I didn’t. Please. I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to hurt you.” He stiffened. Their eyes widened and they spoke more quickly. “If I’d meant you any harm, I could have done something about it either of the times I’ve found you unconscious today. Right? I have no reason to hurt y-“ His hand pressed down again, choking off their words.

“Reckon I can squeeze a trigger faster than you can do your little magic trick.”

“Maybe.” They could do little more than shape the words but just enough of a hiss escaped for him to follow. “Don’t want to bet my life on it. Seen-” They shuddered, desperately sucking in a scrap of air. “Seen how fast you are.”

He growled and shook them by the throat. They pinched their eyes shut as if they expected death to follow. If they’d also started his brain bleeding, he couldn’t tell. “You’ve been spying on me. Sneaking round in my building. Now you’re fucking with me in my apartment. Why?” He shook them again. Their skull thudded heavily on the floor, long black hair escaping their ponytail. “Why? Tell me why I shouldn’t fucking kill you? You don’t want to hurt me? Then what do you want?”

They tried to reply but could only gurgle. He eased off their throat. “Help. Need help.” His hand lifted a little more, answering a deeper impulse than thought. With an effort, he overpowered the voice in his mind long enough to listen. Their eyes searched his as though watching the struggle. His hand tensed on their neck.

“Talk. Fast.”

They swallowed. He felt the fragile movement through his palm. “Shelter. Please. I don’t want to kill you. And,” Their dark eyes tracked his face again. “I may not be an expert on trained assassins but I don’t think you want to kill me either.” Had he imagined the emphasis? Had it been unintentional? Their voice was trembling. Short on breath, laden with pain. He couldn’t be sure.

“Someone wants you dead though. And personally, right? In more than the ‘all mutants are dangerous monsters’ way.”

“A lot of people. That’s why I need somewhere safe. I thought – I mean, you seemed like someone who’d be sympathetic.”

His lip pulled back in a snarl. “Because I’m a dangerous monster too?”

They didn’t flinch as they met his eyes. “Pretty much. You know what it’s like. Not to want to be someone else’s weapon. To not trust the good guys much more than the bad guys. Right?”

The adrenaline was wearing off. His head was starting to swim again. He should finish them fast, then he could sleep. Alone and safe. “So which do you think you are? A good guy or a bad guy?”

“Just a guy. I’m not much of a team player.” He felt a tremor as though they had tried to laugh. They swallowed again. He knew his face hadn’t given anything away, so they must have realised for themselves that apparent amusement was doing them no favours. “Look, there’s no one outside this room who has my back, or who I report to, or – I hope – who has any idea where I am. I just need somewhere to stay, where I can keep my head down.”

It was a terrible decision, really, not to kill them. He would be safer with them gone. He’d have his solitude back. This was his home. Perhaps he could have handled sharing it with Steve if he’d wanted to leave the compound, but not any random stranger who fancied moving in – especially not here, in his apartment.

“What were you doing in here?” The pistol pressed harder under their chin, forcing their head back a little more.

“I was worried about you. I heard you screaming earlier, and I found you in the basement all bashed up. I wanted to bring you back up here but I could only manage one flight of stairs. Vibranium’s heavy, I guess. Didn’t really know how I’d get you past the traps either – I unfastened some of trip wires but it seemed pretty obvious there’d be more inside. Didn't fancy killing either of us. I came to check on you later and you weren’t where I’d left you – figured you’d got back up here by yourself. I was going to just leave you to it but when I passed by the door there were weird noises. I knocked. You didn’t answer and the noises got weirder so I looked for another way in that you hadn’t rigged to blow up or eviscerate visitors.” Their eyes flicked towards the open closet, the one he’d been trying to block back up. “You were passed out again. You were breathing like shit and your skin and eyes were all red. I was worried.”

They tried to shrug. Their own breathing wasn’t so hot either. He eased off their throat just a little more. Their words had brought his discomfort into much clearer focus. Now he couldn’t help but notice how his breath was whistling and every inch of exposed flesh felt like it had been splashed with acid.

“You got down to the basement through there, right?” Another glance at the closet. “Not surprised you feel like shit. Insulation’s made of fibreglass. Not stuff you want to handle, much less breathe.” They frowned up at him. He could almost have believed they actually were as concerned for his welfare as for the ease with which he could end their life right now. Probably an ability to make someone bleed into their own brain with a thought was quite a confidence boost. If they could really do any such thing. What evidence did he have? His hand? Could have cut it on something and just not noticed. A quick enough thinker could take advantage of that, sure. After being thrown half way across the room and slammed into the floor. With a gun pressed to their head. Probably. And he had to concede that anyone who could do shit like that would definitely be a sought-after commodity for the worst people. Someone like that was definitely not the kind of unknown factor he wanted hanging around, right?

When was the last time anyone had sought him out to ask for help?

“Sit up. Slowly.” He released them and shifted away, gun still readied.

They waited until he’d made some space between them before awkwardly levering themselves upright and raising both hands level with their shoulders in surrender. “I, uh, I’m not armed. I mean, not in any way you can confiscate without decapitating me, which I’d really rather you didn’t. But I guess, if searching me makes you feel any better about letting me stick around, you can…”

Bucky looked them over. The baggy hoodie, the same that had been used for a pillow earlier, and cargoes could have hidden any number of weapons, but they’d made a decent point – if they’d been planning to kill him it was a risk and a waste of time waiting until now. He shook his head. “Just don’t make me regret my trusting and forgiving nature.” They offered a casual salute and even a small grin. “What time is it?”

A shrug. “Don’t know, but probably after ten. Here. Drink. Pretty sure your throat’s still full of glass fibres.” They reached into a cardboard box beside them surrounded by a few scraps of rope and tossed a bottle over to him, then rolled their eyes dramatically when he didn’t reach for it. “Not that convinced I’m not trying to kill you, then? Here.” They grabbed another bottle, cracked the top, and took a long swig. He watched their throat working and found himself recalling that movement under his hand. They recapped the bottle and offered it to him. “Monkey see, monkey do.”

The smirk was infuriating but he found his lip curling in return as he took the bottle. “Don’t push it.” He drank, and kept drinking. The cool water was unbelievably soothing to his sore throat. He drained the bottle and grabbed the first one, downing half of it before freezing with it still at his lips.

“Relax, okay?” His eyes darted to their face, startled to find a sympathetic frown. “I promise, it’s as wholesome as water stolen from struggling communities by billionaires can be.” His narrowed eyes received a shrug. “What? Wouldn’t be fair to lie to you.” He grunted and finished the bottle.

“You’re really weird, you know that?”

“Mutants tend to be.”

Bucky sat and watched, rolling the empty bottle between his palms, while his… intruder? Visitor? Neighbour? Pulled over the box and rummaged inside it, ignoring or not seeing the way he tensed.

“What’s that?”

“Huh?” They glanced up, blinking. Was it possible that they’d actually forgotten he was there in the last twenty seconds? It sure seemed like it. He nodded at the box. “Oh, just kind of a care package I put together. Meant to leave it outside your door but then you sounded like you were dying so I figured a get well card and a blanket might not do the trick. ‘S not much. Food, meds such as I could find, blanket – but you’ve got that already. Getting it down that climb with my face covered to keep the fibres out was hard enough without packing it any heavier, but there’s some more stuff over in the other apartment.”

He looked over at where he’d been lying, and stared in surprise. They were still in his hallway where he had passed out. He remembered dimly the pounding at the door, amplified by fear and disorientation, which must have been their knocking. His sleeping bag hadn’t been here then. Nor had his pillow or the unfamiliar sleeping bag stacked underneath his own. And there was the blanket, lying where he must have thrown it off when he woke up… and attacked them, he reminded himself with an internal wince.

“You did all that?”

“Yeah. Would have put you in your bedroom, but ran into that whole ‘Vibranium is heavy’ issue again so I made you a bed out here instead. Won’t be offended if you want to move back. You can borrow my sleeping bag. Oh, and I redid the bandage on your arm but the bleeding had stopped already, even where you scratched it up. You knocked a few chunks out of yourself. I cleaned the wounds and tied them up. Some of them looked like they could use stitches but I’m thinking you don’t really bother with those and I don’t know how to do them. I could probably figure it out with a video tutorial though if, y’know, you want me to try.” They kept talking as they looked through the box, peering at things as though it had been so long since they’d seen them that they were almost unrecognisable. It was a curious sight. “Wasn’t sure if you’d be able to cook in here so most of this is about as edible cold…” They were chattering away as if he hadn’t been holding a gun to their head a minute earlier. The effect was almost soothing. Where was that accent from? Not pure American as far as he could tell. Maybe British with some American or Canadian layered on top? There was something else too – something that spoke to his memories of warmth and spiced air. He was only half taking in the words and it was his turn to realise late that he’d been spoken to.

“Uh… huh?”

They grinned. “Sandwiches. Just cheese. Nothing fancy. I don’t do cooking. Probably a good idea to eat something. Might cushion the little spiky glass bits.” They shrugged. “My mother always freaked out about me going anywhere near our fibreglass insulation. I always figured she was overreacting but you look like shit so maybe not.”

“You go all out with the compliments, don’t you?” He bit into a cheese sandwich. They were right – it was nothing fancy, but it was food and it started to help with his painful, feverish exhaustion at once.

“Pretty much,” they admitted with a shrug.

Bucky was about to reply when a fresh storm of coughs overtook him, filling the air with crumbs. They leant back out of the way, lowering their own sandwich, apparently no longer so keen on it.

“That’ll probably happen for a while. You got a pretty good lungful, I guess.”

“’M not supposed to get sick,” he growled.

“You’re not technically-”

“Or injured.”

“Unless whatever they did to you gave you lungs that can dissolve glass, I doubt being a super soldier’s gonna help much with this. Might even be worse. If you can’t get sick, I’m thinking it’s because your body attacks anything that invades it particularly quickly and effectively, so it’s probably throwing a fit about a billion little fibres getting where they shouldn’t and I’m probably not really helping, am I?”

“Your bedside manner really sucks,” he grumbled. The complaint was half-hearted, though. Something had happened to their expression while they were spinning their theory. The gentle coffee-dark eyes had sharpened. The detached enthusiasm had become… uncomfortable. He’d seen too many expressions like that before, usually smiling above him while he was strapped to a table, full of glee over their latest pages of results. His fist curled and he touched his pistol. The movement attracted no attention at all. They’d found a scrap of ancient wallpaper –but still not ancient enough for him to remember it – and started picking at it as though its presence offended them, nails digging fretfully under its edges.

“Planning on building a nest with that?”

They froze and looked vacant for a second. He got the impression they were replaying the last few seconds to work out what he was talking about. In spite of the way his previous observation had jacked up his heart rate, it was a challenge to be afraid of someone who seemed to have so much difficulty just keeping track of existence from one minute to the next. And they’d brought him food and a blanket, he reminded himself. His lips softened into a small smile.

“Uh, sorry, hope that wasn’t sentimental.” They licked a fingertip and attempted to damp the paper back down. “There was a texture.” The explanation ended there.

“A… texture?”

Their eyebrows rose as though his puzzlement was incomprehensible. “Things that should be smooth shouldn’t have textures.” They said it the way someone else might say “tumours”. They gave a little shrug and didn’t meet his eyes. “It’s harder to ignore – tolerate – them when I’m nervous. Really weird, like you said.” He thought he saw a tiny wince. “Sorry, I’ll go back to the other apartment. You should be resting, not suffering through a lecture on the ways my brain is wrong.”

They started to dust themself off and get up. This time the wince was unmistakable. They tried to disguise the awkward movement with a stretch but his eyes tracked the tenderness in their shoulder with ease. He recalled the sound of them colliding with the wall when he’d thrown them off and his stomach churned with a momentary surge of guilt.

“There are painkillers in the box. Oh, and antihistamine cream. If your skin’s too uncomfortable to sleep, it might… And try to rinse your skin again in the morning. Just keep washing the fibres off. Not sure what to do for the lungs but hopefully that’ll be better tomorrow too. If you need anything, I’ll be across the hall.” They offered an awkward smile and took a step towards the door.

“Wait.” He was surprised to hear the word come from his mouth. “Not sure I want you getting up to fuck knows what out of sight over there.” His grin turned out as awkward as their exit. “You can stay. Here.” He cut off their attempted protest. “I’d like you to stay. Y’know, tonight, at least.”

He started to set his gun down, then went to the window to scan the street. The streetlights were on now. The only passers-by seemed natural and uninterested enough. “Just how sure are you that no one’s going to come looking for you here?” He put his back to the window and tried to resist the urge to look again.

“Well, I guess I can’t be a hundred percent certain but I think if they had any idea where I am they’d have come for me before now.” They curled tighter into the corner and Bucky almost laughed when he saw them shoot the window a glance almost identical to his own.

In the moment of strange kinship, he was moved to voice something he’d been wondering about. “You know who I am. You didn’t just stumble onto a guy with a potential safe house.”

They paused, and shrugged. “Well, no, I was looking for you. Got pretty lucky finding you though. Not a lot of guys with metal arms around but there are a lot of people in this city. Then I found you and had to watch for a while to make sure my instincts were right about you. That you’d understand why I needed somewhere to go. That makes me sound like a total stalker… It’s not a weird creepy obsession or anything. I just… heard about you, y’know, and-”

“So you know who I am, the things I’ve done, and you still decided to throw yourself on my mercy?”

He’d expected them to fidget uncomfortably, maybe refuse to meet his eyes. In fact, their gaze locked onto his like a magnet.

“Someone who looked a lot like you did those things. Not you.”

He stiffened. “It was me. A… part of me.” He’d never admitted that, even to Stevie. Why was he doing it now? He wished he could bite the words back, but they seemed unfazed by his confession or his regret.

“Was that part of you given a choice?”

The words stuck on his tongue, tangled in themselves. “We… I could have died myself. Rather than hurt anyone else. Most people would say I should have done.”

Their snort chilled him and he narrowed his eyes. They were just as unmoved by the increased hostility. “Most people don’t choose to die. Not when they’re actually confronted with the choice. So “most people” can take a running jump with their opinions about what any of you should have done. They don’t know what they’re fucking talking about.” He spotted that their hand was knotted into their hoodie so tight that their knuckles showed up pale in the dim light. “And for my part, I doubt it was even an option. Unless you can honestly tell me Hydra didn’t make really damn sure they fucked up your head before they gave you the kind of freedom it takes to kill yourself.”

Bucky could only stare as the words went through him like a laser, leaving a searing path behind them. Something was ready to take advantage of the quiet. It crawled into the ringing silence in his head.

You’d just love to believe that, wouldn’t you, little boy? “Boohoo, poor me. The mean nasty men hurt my feelings and that’s why I tortured and raped and murdered all those people.” It’s a fairy tale, little boy. A pretty lie to manipulate you into letting them stay. We chose you for a reason, asset. We saw the monster in you and leashed it. We didn’t make the monster.

“James?” The name came as such a surprise that it momentarily shocked him out of the guilty hell he’d been descending into. “James… you okay?”

“Don’t.” He gradually got his words back under control and the hysterical note out of his voice. “I – don’t. Don’t call me that.” He forced something like a smile. “I only get ‘James’ when I’m in trouble. I guess you can call me Bucky.”

They nodded, their own smile much more genuine than he had managed. “Bucky, then.” He was fascinated by their ability to look at him so calmly, with no detectable fear or contempt, yet he found himself still wanting to escape their gaze. He felt too seen by those eyes. Like they understood even more than they’d described with such stark and cutting accuracy. He backed up and turned away from them, crouching to straighten his bedding.

“Guess we do have some stuff in common, after all… You know, don’t you?”

“I don’t. Not what they did to you. But I know something about the lengths people like that will go to, to design the sort of operatives they need. And after they put in all that time and effort, they don’t get careless enough to let valuable assets kill themselves.”

The word caused bile to rise in his throat and he whipped around. Could they know? Could they hear? But they’d turned back to their corner, rearranging their blanket and trying to make themself comfortable.

“You can take your sleeping bag back. I’ll be fine with my own.” They waved him off.

“Hang onto it tonight. It’ll help with my guilt. It’s my fault you got all paranoid and trap-happy.” He watched them lean their head on the wall.

He wanted to tell them to at least take the pillow or something, but he had a premonition of how much good that would do. He stood, thinking, for a moment. Then he scooped up the blanket and threw it over them. He crouched to tuck it in, meeting their look of protest with immovable steadiness. And somehow he found himself looking into soft brown eyes a little too long.

“Night,” he muttered, retreating.

No, the voice growled as he contemplated the stacked sleeping bags. Soft. Weak. He glanced back into the corner. Their eyes were closed but they had no talent for faking the rhythmic breath of true sleep. He toed off his boots and climbed into his bag. It was difficult to see them through the shadows but he heard their breathing resume a more natural tempo. When had he last shared his sleeping space voluntarily? He was tempted to think it had been more than eighty years ago, before he’d shipped out. Back when he’d imagined he’d have some control over the course of his life.

And what would you have made of your life on your own? Another groupie for the star-spangled government lapdog? I made you so much more. And this is how you show your gratitude.

The yawning darkness at Bucky’s back reached out for him. Its fingers caressed his spine. He felt himself shaking, his throat closing…

“Hey, Bucky?” The invisible fingers retracted a little way into the dark.

“What?”

“Thanks. For letting me stay.”

How sweet that your new little friend thinks they’re any safer in a room with you than literally anywhere else. Even after your opening pleasantries featured you practically crushing their throat. You must have seen the bruises. I can hear them struggling to breathe from here.

“Y’welcome.” It wasn’t much but for just a moment it interrupted the voice; he searched for more words, desperate to keep it at bay, and to stop himself straining at the quiet to measure their breathing. His eyes locked onto the vague shape on the other side of the hall. “I never asked your name.”

A moment’s thoughtful quiet then a shuffling of blanket. He caught a glint of streetlight reflected in their eyes as they turned their face towards him. “Hive. Call me Hive.”

Note: Our Hive has nothing to do with the Hive who appears in Agents of SHIELD, just a coincidence that they ended up with the same name.

Thanks for reading! Every like and reblog is appreciated and treasured. Feed my need for external validation!

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howtodrawyourdragon · 12 days

Text

Lover's Quarrel

Summary: Written for Any Fandom Goes Angst Bingo. Set in a Modern AU. During a break in the school year, Hiccup and Snotlout return home to Berk and Snotlout gets a little taste of jealousy.

Warnings: Implied incest

Rating: Mature

Words: 1 335

Prompt: Secret Relationship

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Characters: Hiccup, Snotlout, Toothless, Fishlegs, Tuffnut, Ruffnut, Astrid

Pairing: Snotcup

Author's Notes:I find myself unable to stop writing for this AU at the moment.

Enjoy!

@anyfandomangstbingo

-XOXOX-

During whatever breaks they have in their year, Snotlout and Hiccup tend to return home to Berk. Not just to see their friends again, but also because if Hiccup didn’t go home, someone would probably come get him, telling him that his father was making everybody’s lives miserable in the woes of missing his son.

It has happened before.

But Stoick isn’t the person Hiccup is currently seeing. At the moment, he and Snotlout have joined Astrid, Ruffnut, Tuffnut and Fishlegs on one of their many beaches, Berk is an island after all. And as the weather isn’t usually this warm and sunny, they’ve found the perfect excuse for a day at the beach. They’re here and in swimwear.

Astrid is in a bathing suit, Ruffnut in a bikini, Tuffnut and Fishlegs are in shorts and Snotlout is in a speedo. Meanwhile ever the victim of cold and insecurities, Hiccup is in swim shorts and a t-shirt.

Ruffnut is currently trying to bury her brother and Astrid decided to help out. Snotlout was requested as a third pair of hands, but he declined. His attention lies elsewhere.

He’s staring at Hiccup as he sits nearer to the cliffside with Fishlegs, geeking out together about something he can’t quite hear. And he knows Hiccup is geeking out because he’s grinning, his hands are all animated and he can’t stop talking.

Snotlout huffs in agitation. His cousin doesn’t look nearly that happy when it’s just the two of them in their apartment, does he?

There’s laughter and Hiccup lights up like a sunny day. Toothless, resting right behind him, perks up at the sound. He hasn’t left him alone since their reunion, not even to let him use the bathroom. And because he knows it’s temporary until his human has to leave him again, he doesn’t plan on straying even a foot away from his side.

Snotlout must be doing a bad job at hiding his feelings, because Tuffnut notices the way his fingers turn white as he crosses his arms and the angry furrow in his brow deepens.

“Damn, jealous?” He asks, buried up to his neck in sand. Ruffnut and Astrid are a distance away now, washing their hands in the calm waves rolling onto shore.

Snotlout remembers to check himself, forcing his shoulders and face to relax.

He has to remember, nobody knows that their two friends, quite literally related by blood, are in a relationship.

“Pff, who? Me? Of the geeksquad?! No way!” His tone is extra mocking, he makes sure to be loud, then he physically turns his back to Hiccup and Fishlegs.

But he can only bear it for a moment.

The next secondhis boyfriend laughs, he looks over his shoulder and glares once more at the two. Why can’t he make him laugh like that?

Tuffnut wears a strange pout as he watches his friend.

-XOXOX-

As long as they’re on Berk, they’re not together. Or they’re certainly not supposed to be. This rule was made after their first time back at their apartment after a break nearly got them in hot waters. Pretending like they’re both single was meant to make it easier on them to hide the fact that they’re couple.

Even so, they still spend at least the evening together when no other engagements draws them away. When asked why, Hiccup made the excuse that they’ve just gotten used to hanging out together.

Tonight, Snotlout followed Hiccup home and together they sit in his room, watching an action movie the latter pirated. Action movies aren’t necessarily his cup of tea, but they are Snotlout’s and he watches them with him for him.

But it would appear that Snotlout isn’t paying attention. Otherwise, he’d be reacting to those explosions and those stunts with glee, but now there’s just a scowl and silence. It’s disconcerting.

“Snotlout is everything okay?” He asks. “You’ve been quiet all day.”

“What’s with you and Fishlegs?”

His question catches him off guard.

Hiccup takes a moment to place his laptop on his boyfriends lap before rising from his bed and closing the bedroom door. He left it open because his parents aren’t home and he wanted to hear them return.

In their case, it’s more than a mother and father worrying about whether or not their just recently legally adult son is practicing safe sex.

Hiccup turns to face the other and crosses his arms. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

Snotlout, scowl deepening, looks away from him, his arms once more crossed. His stubbornness lasts for only a moment before he shoots up to his feet.

“I’ll tell you what’s going on! You and Fishlegs were all buddy-buddy today and forgetting all about the rest of us! What was up with that, Mr. Two-timing Bastard!” He shouts and Hiccup is so glad his parents aren’t home at the moment.

“Two-timing… What?! Fishlegs is a friend! With whom I was catching up with! I’m allowed to catch up with our friends, Snotlout. Even in private!” Hiccup raises his voice back at him. He can hardly believe that he would turn on him like this. They’ve all grown up together, Snotlout should know better!

“You were all over him!”

“I was not, I was all over Toothless and you’re not jealous of him, are you?!”

“You were laughing!”

“Yeah, that tends to happen when someone tells me something funny!”

Horrible scratching on the window leading to the balcony outside this room causes both young men to take a look. Through years upon years of claw-related abuse, they see Toothless there and he looks less than pleased to be hearing all this yelling.

Mated pairs in dragonkind have their fights, too. But as someone who was right there as his human and Meatlug’s human caught up on the past couple of months, he knows Snotlout has nothing to worry about. Fishlegs was telling Hiccup about this micr-sized dragon that found her way into his house and how he had to turn everything upside down just to find and release her.

Hiccup moves to slide the glass door open and the Night Fury waltzes in. Hiccup’s house is arguably the biggest on Berk, so his room is the biggest of the six of them. A dragon Toothless’ size fits.

Staring disapprovingly at Snotlout, he makes it very clear that he’s outnumbered in this argument. Hiccup was not courting the other male. And as Fishlegs isn’t just “another male” Snotlout should know better than to assume he’s a rival.

“Psh,” Still, he scoffs and turns away from the two.

Picking his laptop up from his bed, Hiccup allows Toothless the room to climb up and settle before he sits down with his back against the dragon’s side. “Now are you going to come enjoy the movie with me or not?”

After a moment of thinking it over, Snotlout does take his seat again, even if Toothless’ presence forces him to sit right on the edge.

Hiccup hits play again and the loud sound mixing of the fight scene returns. Snotlout has no idea what’s going on in this film.

“Besides… I’m not sucking his dick, am I?” The former mutters, causing the other to tense up. There are probably moreeloquent ways to express “I’m sleeping with you and not him and don’t you dare forget it,” but if he wasn’t so angry, he probably would’ve found it.

Snotlout makes himself relax. It’s a big deal that Hiccup is comfortable enough with him to pursue a sexual relationship and sometimes he forgets that.

He sighs deeply. Being in a secret relationship that’s far different from the familial one they’re supposed to have is difficult enough, the last thing he should probably do is draw attention to them by inventing all sorts of other issues where there are none.

To show that he understands, Snotlout scoots closer and throws an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulder. As Hiccup doesn’t pull away, it would seem his silent apology has been accepted.

#afangst #anyfandomangstbingo #httyd fics #httyd movies #rtte #race to the edge #au #alternate universe #modern au #hiccup haddock #snotlout jorgenson #snotcup #toothless #hicctooth #fishlegs ingerman #astrid hofferson #tuffnut thorston #ruffnut thorston #hiccup and the dragon riders

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cywscross · 1 month

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Title: unmade, remade Fandom: HP Character/Pairing: Regulus Black, Kreacher Rating: T Word Count: 442 Summary: Prompt: Any, Any, unmade and remade Tags: Canon Divergence AU, Undead Regulus Black, Temporary Character Death, Implied Character Death, Resurrection, Comes Back Wrong, Prologue Submitted For: - 3SF2024 - 100prompts - 013. Afterlife - Gen Prompt Bingo [Round 25] - Corpses / Skeletons / Remains - Hurt/Comfort Bingo [Round 13] - resurrection - Tarot Card Bingo - Free Space: Wheel of Fortune - Seasonal Delights Bingo: Winter Wonderland - little to no pulse (@seasonaldelightsbingo) - FNAF Bingo - not dead & not alive (@fnafbingo) - The Butcher Bingo - Waking Up Next to a Corpse (@thebutcherbingo) - Any Fandom Angst Bingo - Consequence of Heroism (@anyfandomangstbingo) - Fandom-Free Bingo: Frosty Edition - No Response (@fandom-free-bingo)

#hp #fanfiction #cywscross #3SF24 #100 prompts challenge #gen prompt bingo #hurt/comfort bingo #tarot card bingo #seasonaldelightsbingo #fnaf bingo #the butcher bingo #anyfandomangstbingo #fandom-free bingo: frosty edition

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granatkoroleva · 4 months

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𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐡𝐬

Read here

Pairing ⊳ Kelpie!Bucky Barnes x Merman!Prince!Steve Rogers

Word Count ⊳ 3.4k

Warnings ⊳ MCD

Fandom ⊳ Marvel

Rating ⊳ E

Summary ⊳ Ever since Steve's first taste of freedom beyond the palace gates, his unwavering dedication to aiding others has driven him to risk his very existence. He has fearlessly ventured into treacherous depths, sacrificing his own life and the safety of his merpeople brethren. But now, a harrowing predicament looms before him, one that a sheltered life within the palace walls could have prepared him for. He is alone in his darkest hour, when the weight of his selfish actions threatens to consume him whole, and the boundaries of sacrifice blur into a maddening haze of uncertainty and despair.

A wish - a gamble, with the power to grant or inflict immeasurable suffering.

The sea witch's curse, fueled by his desperate longing, ruthlessly tore away his undersea existence, leaving him consumed by an insatiable ache for the water he could no longer embrace. Steve's desperate pleas were met with cruel indifference as he was condemned to wander the barren land, eternally severed from the sanctuary of his home beneath the relentless waves.

Tags ⊳ Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dark Magic, Mentions of Myth & Folklore, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Fairy Tale Curses, Merman Steve Rogers, Kelpie Bucky Barnes, First Meetings, Interspecies Seduction, Steve Rogers Feels, References to Depression, Mythology - Freeform, Self Harm, Drowning, Shapeshifting, Desperation, Fish out of Water Temporary Character Death, Sad and Swee, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Oral, Mental Health Issues, Pining, Sad with a Happy Ending

Square Fills + Prompt ⊳

Day(s) Four: Curse & Eleven: Lost + | @deaddovedec

December + Flashback | BABB | @buckybarnesevents | card BABB019

O4 + AU: ROYALTY | Adoptable | @cabottombingo| Card # CABB2005

B3 + Mermaids | @steverogersbingo | SB3039

Wish Gone Wrong | @anyfandomangstbingo

Author's Notes ⊳ graphics created by @rookthorne // @rookthornesartistry // Moodboard made by yours truly | Masterlist | Dead Dove Dec Masterlist

#deaddovedecember2023 #build a bucky bingo 2023 #bucky barnes events #anyfandomangstbingo #cabottombingo #Stucky #steve rogers bingo #Bucky Barnes #Steve rogers #fic moodboard #smutconnoisseaur #stucky au

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beautifulbows924 · 2 years

Text

Sunset

Marc Spector x Reader, Past Layla El Faouly x Reader

Masterlist

Writing Bingo Masterlist

A/N: This was a bingo request for @justgimmethebody, I hope it’s everything you wanted! A huge thank you goes out to @darkened-writer for beta reading this for me, I couldn’t have finished this without your help. & @noahspector for always coming through with moral support. As always, I hope you enjoy. Feel free to leave any feedback you have in the comments and if you like my work consider leaving a tip! Thanks:)

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2.7K+

Warnings: Filthy smut with plot, No Spoilers, TW Dubious Consent (Sex Pollen), Angst, Blood mention, the tiniest bit of fluff if you squint, reader is vaguely implied to be female but no pronouns are used.

Summary: You and Marc get yourselves into a sticky situation.

Created for / Fandom: Marvel / @anyfandomgoesbingo Square Filled N5:Shared Ex / @anyfandomangstbingo B2:Sex Pollen / @mfbingo O4:Coffee Shop / @badthingshappenbingo I2:Misunderstanding

“Layla?”, you groan, your phone pressed uncomfortably to your ear, “What’s going on?”.

There’s a long pause, the receiver crackling as she sighs, “I need your help”.

You scratch the back of your neck, moving to sit upright, “What for?”.

She sighs again, this time loud enough for the receiver to pick it up, “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t be asking you for anything—not after what happened between us, but this is important. You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t”.

You scoff lightly, “So now you want to talk about what happened between us? You left, Layla. End of story”.

“I know, I did”, her voice shakes, “And I don’t have an excuse, I should have talked to you first, but please. I really need your help”.

You roll your eyes, swinging your legs off the side of the bed, “Living on the lam doesn't exactly lend itself to being able to travel at a moment's notice, you know, especially without any monetary incentive”.

Layla brings her lip between her teeth, a familiar sucking sound making its way through the audio, “I know, I’m sorry. But I don’t trust anyone else with this. Just you”.

Anger bubbles underneath your skin. “How’s Marc?”, you retort, unable to swallow the words before they come tumbling out.

Another shaky breath, “He’s good. The divorce finally went through last week—”.

“Alright, enough small talk”, you cut her off, “What is it that you really need?”.

You sit in the corner booth, alone, waiting. The smell of roasted coffee beans saturates the air, the heat from your half-empty mug radiating to your fingertips. You trace the edge with your index finger, around in endless circles, a nervous habit you managed to pick up over the years.

Leaning forward, you grab the cup, bringing it to your lips. It’s colder than you expected it to be, bitter.

Wind seeps in, sending papers flying as the door chimes open, revealing Marc Spector.

He wears a black hat, face drawn into a scowl, thick curls draped over his forehead. His shoulders are stiff, likely years of military training at work. And his body language makes it obvious that he doesn’t want to be here any more than you do.

Marc’s eyes scan the small cafe, coming to a rest when they meet yours. He hesitates, narrowing them for a split second before making his way over.

You gesture to the seat in front of you, rolling your eyes as he makes a show of plopping down into it, resting both elbows on the back of the seat.

“You’re going to catch someone’s attention”, you growl, placing your mug back on the table.

He shrugs, “And?”.

You lean back, crossing your arms, “And you’re lucky I’m even here, Spector. Which means we’re doing things my way”.

He holds his hands up in mock surrender, “Okay, I get it. What did Layla tell you?”.

The barista clears her throat, “I hope I’m not interrupting”, she says, grabbing your attention, “I just wanted to take your order”. She points to Marc.

You wait until she leaves to keep up the conversation. “Not much”, you go back to tracing the edge of your cup, “Just that it was important and that you’d fill me in on the details when you got here”.

His jaw ticks, muscles working over time as he gets his thoughts in order. “Our target is here in London”, he says, pushing a file towards you.

There’s a photo stapled to the left corner. The woman in it is fairly young, mid 20’s at the most.

“She’s the museum curator's daughter”, he explains, sensing the question in your eyes, “Layla thinks she has her own personal collection, a collection that includes—”, he flips through a few pages, “This”. He points to another picture, a red and white flower nearly bursting through it.

The barista comes back with Marc’s americano, setting it down in front of him as her eyes linger on his face. “Do you need anything else sir?”, she asks.

He looks to you. “That’ll be all”, you speak up, rolling your eyes at her blatant attempt at flirting.

She huffs quietly, turning away.

“How can some plant be an ancient relic?”, you ask, running your finger across it.

“It’s not just some plant”, he replies, “It’s the Egyptian Lotus. It’s been extinct for centuries”.

You scoff, “And you expect me to just go along with this? To what? Go on a wild goose chase to chase after some flower?”.

“It’s not just some flower”, he repeats, “It’s the key to finding Imhotep’s tomb”.

You sigh, fidgeting with the mug in front of you, “Alright, the sooner we get this done. The sooner we can go our separate ways”.

The street’s crowded, bustling with people, bodies pushed against each other without any care. The smell of cut grass and car exhaust, the sound of music and the chatter of mid-day business, overwhelmingly familiar.

Glancing over at Marc, you notice he’s trained on something, jaw set at one particular point.

“What do you see?”, you ask, leaning past him to follow his gaze.

He snaps his head back at your movement, yanking you behind him with an excessive amount of force, “Seriously? Are you trying to catch the entire cities attention?”.

Annoyance lights up your features. You’ve been doing this kind of work for a long time, longer than he has. You huff, shoving his hands away, “Nope, that’s your job—remember?”.

He rolls his eyes, glancing back at what you assume must be your target.

“Do you want my help or not?”, you growl, eyes trained on his every move, “Because I can call Layla right now and let her know you’re being difficult”.

He sighs, turning to face you, a sincerity in his eyes you’ve never seen before. “Yes—I do”, he says, throwing a hand out to wave you off, “I’m just on edge”.

“Well be on edge somewhere else, this is too important for you to be off your game. Remember that and let me do my job.”

There’s a pause, a long moment where you stare each other down. Waiting for the other to break.

“The target's there, next to the steps," he relents, jutting his chin towards a figure not too far from his left. You move around him again, this time sending him a pointed glare, so you can get a better look.

It’s the same woman from the photo. She looks happy, greeting her father on the steps of the museum with a bright smile.

“Are you ready for tonight?”, you ask, slipping behind him and out of the target’s line of sight.

“I don’t know, are you?”

Deep green leaves and bright red buds curl tightly together, bright white at the tip and deep red at the bottom. A self-contained sunset of reddened hues.

“Is this it?”

Marc nods, keeping his gun trained on the only exit, “Grab a few of those buds and let’s get the fuck out of here”.

Turning to the plant, you grab one of the stems at the bottom, cutting it with the edge of your knife.

The vibrant hues of red draw you in, like you’ve been placed under a spell.

You trace the bud with your index finger, pressing on the tip.

“What are you doing?” You hear Marc ask from behind you, but you don’t answer. You can’t. You’re too transfixed by the plant in front of you.

Continuing to press down, you feel a slight give. And then, with a sudden pop, the bud bursts open, releasing a thick, syrupy liquid.

The liquid is red like the plant, and it smells sickly sweet, almost artificial. Without thinking, you lift your fingers to your mouth and lick it off.

It prickles at your nose and curls inside your mouth, melting against your tongue like cotton candy. It tastes even sweeter than it smells, and you can feel the way it works itself through your body almost immediately.

Suddenly, you feel Marc's hands on you, pulling you away from the plant. “What the fuck were you doing?”, he shouts, but you don’t answer. You can’t. A warmth ignites inside of you, traveling to your core.

He drags you away from it and towards the exit, but you resist. “Let me go!”, you yell, struggling against him. You want to go back. You need to go back.

But he's too strong, and he manages to drag you out of the room and into the hallway.

“What the fuck was that?”, he asks. You still don't answer. You're too far gone. Intoxicated.

He looks at you, and you can see the confusion and anger swirling in his eyes. But there's something else there too. Something you can't quite identify.

He shakes you, hard, “What. The. Fuck. Was. That?”.

You roll the remainder of the sticky residue between your fingers. “I don't know”, you reply, your voice a slurred mess, “It was just so... so…”. Sweat beads down Marc’s neck, and you feel the sudden urge to lick it off him.

You lean in, your mouth mere inches from his skin. You can feel his pulse racing, hear each tick of the watch on his left wrist. He smells like salt and musk and you can't help but nip at his neck with your teeth.

“Shit”, he hisses, pushing you away, “We can't do this. Not here. Not now”.

He grabs your hand and starts to pull you away again, but you thrash in his hold, smearing the rest of the liquid across his lips.

He freezes.

You’re feverish, uncomfortably turned on. You press your legs together tightly, whimpering at the slightest bit of friction. “Please”, you beg, “Just a little longer. I need to… I need you”.

Something in Marc snaps. Without warning, he pushes you up against the wall, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, “Is this what you wanted?”.

He presses his body against yours, his erection poking at your stomach, “Come on, fucking beg for it”.

He pulls away briefly, just long enough to rip your shirt apart. And then he's back, his mouth on yours, his hands exploring every inch of your skin.

Grabbing the meat of your thighs, he lifts you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.

“Please, Marc”, you moan against his lips, begging him to do something—anything, “Please”.

He pulls away slightly, “Say you’re mine”.

Your eyes stare into his, filled with so many emotions, you can’t pinpoint any of them.

“I’m yours”, you breathe between kisses.

He pins you to the ground, your legs still wrapped around him, “Don’t worry baby, I’m going to take good care of you”. His lips trail down your neck, leaving a kaleidoscope of reddened marks in their wake.

He lifts his hips from yours and you whine at the loss of contact.

Shoving a hand between you, he hurriedly unbuckles his belt, pulling his pants and boxers down with a single yank.

You begin to get impatient, starting to work open the button on your own pants when Marc decides to pull them apart, tossing the remnants to the side.

Reaching down, you help him shove your panties off, frantic to have him inside of you, to drown out the screaming need that’s filling your every thought.

You use your free hand to pull him down by the neck, crashing your lips together in a tangled mess of tongues and teeth. The kiss is rough, needy, filled with every ounce of desire you can spare. Emboldened by your passion, his hips snap forward, tip dipping between your folds as he coats himself in your wetness.

The first thrust is hard, deep. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even slow down, just keeps going harder, faster, until your vision is blurry and you’re left gasping for air.

You cry out as he hits a sensitive spot inside you, your body bucking against his. He grabs your wrists, pressing them into the ground above your head.

You arch your back, trying to get closer, to feel more of him.

He growls, flipping you on your stomach, pressing you into the ground. Your hands search for something to grip, something to hold on to. He slides one hand down, pushing a finger inside you, curling it, hitting all your sweet spots.

You moan loudly, uncontrollably.

His other hand reaches forward, rubbing and teasing at you as he adds another finger. You’re so close, so fucking close, and then he pulls away.

You whimper in protest, but he doesn't listen. He flips you again. This time pushing your legs up, draping them over his shoulders, and then he’s back inside you, moving in and out, his cock filling you in a way nothing else ever has. Or will.

You cling to him, your nails digging into his back, leaving marks. Trails of blood.

Your walls tighten around him. You can feel yourself getting close, so close, your toes curling at the sheer pleasure of it all.

“Marc”, you cry out, your voice laced with desperation, “Please, I’m so close”.

He doesn't say anything, just increases the pace, his breathing coming out in short, sharp gasps.

You can feel your body tensing up, about to explode.

And then it does. You scream his name, your whole body shaking with pleasure as you come undone, your heart beating a million miles a minute.

Marc follows suit soon after, spilling deep inside you, filling you to the brim with seemingly endless ropes of cum. You lay underneath him, gasping for breath, your entire body trembling as the aftershocks of your orgasm hit into you like a freight train.

He collapses against you, face resting in the crook of your neck, his body shaking with the force of his release. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you both come down from your high.

Suddenly he stiffens, pulling away and standing up, getting dressed quickly. He doesn't say anything as he finishes putting on his pants and buckles his belt. He doesn't look at you as he grabs his gun and holster, slinging it over his shoulder.

He starts to walk away, but then he pauses, his back still to you. “I’m sorry”, he says, his voice barely above a whisper, “I shouldn’t have…”.

The haze lifts.

You stand on shaky legs, moving to place your hand on his shoulder, “Marc—this wasn’t your fault”, he flinches, “You can’t blame this on yourself”.

You sigh, “I know we don’t really get along because of everything that happened with Layla, but even I know you weren’t trying to take advantage of me”.

“What do you mean everything that happened with Layla?”, he asks, turning to face you.

“Her cheating on me with you”, you deadpan, avoiding his eyes.

Marc’s jaw ticks, “What? We were married. I had no idea you dated”, confusion decorates his every feature.

“When you disappeared—to deal with Arthur Harrow on your own, we dated for a while. Then one night she disappears and I don’t find out until several months later that you’ve decided to try and work things out.”

He moves a step closer, “I didn’t know any of that, I swear. Layla’s been keeping information from both of us”.

“We should get going”, you reply, “We still have a lot of work to do”. You step around him, walking towards the door.

A hand catches your upper arm, halting your movements, “You don’t believe me, do you?”, his hold loosens a bit, “I’m telling the truth. Just like I’m telling the truth when I say I’m attracted to you—and not just physically”.

You remove your arm from his grasp, sighing heavily. “I’m attracted to you too”, you offer, “But I need time to process all of this”.

Marc nods, shoving his hand in his pocket to silence the ringtone blaring in his ears.

You watch as his face falls, a mix of anger and betrayal crossing his features.

Incoming Call: Layla, the screen lights up.

He rejects it, stuffing his phone back in his pocket. “We’ll talk more about this later”, he says, his voice tight, “Right now we need to focus on the task at hand”.

She’s got a lot of explaining to do.

Thanks for reading! Let me know if you want to be tagged or un-tagged down below <3

Moonknight Taglist:

@captainwans @s1xthirty @losers-club6 @axen-gers @erideight @chrisevansfleshsocks @ajeff855 @jokai00 @fangeekkk @atzlena @jay-alison @anon1412 @simonsbluee @midnight-sparks-studio @i-wish-everything-would-be-okay @delusionally-loveless-by-choice @cbloodmarch @ahookedheroespureheart @dweeb-central @bibli0thecary @watersofmars @stwrawr @moistpotatobear @zephyrmonkey @marrigold-2002 @just-let-me-fangirl-in-peace @mxacegrey @love-on-the-murder-scene @unicorntrooper @faith-alons26 @netflix-imagines @coffecakeart @ladyofhellhounds @hopefulpursepeanutdeputy @lilredniki @candydancey @prophecyflame @whatfandomnow @samwise06 @katkirishima @stepasidefilth @kankandrawsstuff @ravenhood2792

#Moonknight #Marc Spector x Reader #Marvel #badthingshappenbingo #anyfandomangstbingo #Past Layla El Faouly x Reader #Marc Spector #Layla El Faouly #Moonknight x Reader #Steven Grant #Jake Lockley #Smut #Dubious Consent #Dub Con #Shared Ex #Sex Pollen #Coffee Shop #Misunderstandings #Cheating

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jessybarnes · 7 months

Text

Fandom: The Gray Man

Title: Bound

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x F!Reader

Rating: 18+ Only! Minors DNI!!

Word Count: 782

Tags: Smut, slight angst, dirty talk, bondage, bound and gagged, Blindfolds, choking, make up sex, fingering (female receiving), orgasm denial, begging, implied oral (male receiving), drinking, explicit language, explicit sexual content, and I think that's it

Written For: @kinktober2023, @anyfandomgoesbingo, @anyfandomangstbingo, @anyfandomdarkbingo, @badthingshappenbingo, and @thebo3bingo

Squares Filled: Kinktober Day 1 - I4 Bondage // Any Fandom Mixed Bingo - G2 Dirty Talk // Any Fandom Angst Bingo - G5 Blindfolds // Any Fandom Kink Bingo - G2 "I can be good, so good! I swear!" // Any Fandom Dark Bingo - I2 Bound and Gagged // Bad Things Happen Bingo - I2 Choking // BO3 Bingo - B4 Make Up Sex

Beta: Just Grammarly

Title Card: Yours Truly

A/N: I apologize that this is posting a day late. I had to go to the doctor and couldn't get this edited in time to post it. Day 2's drabble will be posted later tonight. :)

"I told you to stay still, Sunshine."

Lloyd sits in a chair across from you nursing a glass of bourbon. His posture is calm, but the stern look in his eyes tells you he's anything but.

You've been mounted to the St. Andrew's cross for nearly a half hour now, and you're getting antsy.

The mission you two had gone on was a success in your eyes, but Lloyd isn't focused on the computer you two were able to recover. No. He's choosing to focus on the unnecessary details.

"Baby, I've been up here since we got home. Please, can I get down?"

He takes a sip of his drunk, swirling the ice around in the glass.

"I'm admiring the view."

You sigh. "I know why you're mad, and I'm telling you, I didn't mean it. We wouldn't have gotten the damn laptop if I hadn't flirted with that idiot."

Lloyd's jaw ticks. Just the memory of seeing you, his girl, dancing with some other asshole makes his blood boil. He downs the rest of his drink and relishes the feeling of warmth in his chest.

"Will you just punish me already? I really need a shower."

He slams the glass down on the table so hard that you're surprised it's not broken. His eyes are dark with possessiveness as he approaches you, his hand wrapping around your throat.

"I don't care if you didn't mean it, Y/N! His fucking hands were all over you, touching what belongs to me!"

Lloyd loosens his grip on your neck allowing you to take in air again. He brings his thumb up and puts pressure on your bottom lip until it opens.

"You're mine. And I'm gonna keep you up here until it sinks in, you got that?"

You huff and roll your eyes making his narrow to thin slits.

"Better watch it, Sunshine, you're askin' for it."

"I am asking for it, Lloyd." The tone of your retort makes his cock twitch.

He grabs a ball gag and a blindfold off the dresser and fastens them in place.

"You oughta be using that smart mouth of yours for something more useful. Maybe I should stuff it full of my dick."

His voice is teasing, but you can't help but want him to do just that. Your panties are soaked from the feeling of the leather cuffs and the sensory deprivation, and you can't help the strangled moan that fills the room when his fingertips brush your clothed clit.

"Oh, but you'd like that, wouldn't you? Just like you liked dancing with that other man earlier, didn't you?"

You shake your head no and he chuckles.

"Yeah, somehow I don't believe that, Sunshine. You may not have liked the dancing with him part, but you knew it would piss me off and lead me to punish you. And you like being punished, don't you?"

You huff and give him a nod before rolling your eyes once more. He notices and growls deeply.

"Roll your eyes at me again and I'm the only one who gets to cum tonight. You got that?!"

You whine and nod as he pulls your panties to the side.

"Look at this fuckin' mess you've made. Soaking wet and I haven't even done anything. You're hungry for it, aren't you?"

He doesn't give you a chance to answer as he plunges two fingers inside you, pumping them fast and hard.

"Look at me, Y/N. You're mine. This pussy, these tits, this ass, this whole body belongs to me. I'm the only one who can make you cum like this."

Your strangled moans echo throughout the room as you feel yourself about to cum, but right before the dam breaks Lloyd pulls away making you whimper.

"No, not yet. You don't deserve it, but if you're a good little girl and ask very nicely, Daddy will let you suck his cock."

You try to talk around the ball gag and he chuckles.

"If I take that off are you gonna be polite?"

You nod eagerly and he removes it from your mouth. Your tongue comes out to wet your lips and Lloyd's eyes hone in on the movement.

"Go on, Sunshine. Tell me why you think you should get to cum."

He thrusts his fingers back inside you but keeps them still. A soft moan falls past your lips and he chuckles as your pussy clenches around them.

"I can be good, so good! I swear!"

Lloyd clicks his tongue and leans in close, his lips ghosting over yours.

"Oh, I'd be very good if I were you, Y/N. That's the only way you're getting what you want tonight."

#j snow writes #kinktober 2023 #anyfandomgoesbingo #anyfandomangstbingo #anyfandomdarkbingo #badthingshappenbingo #thebo3bingo #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen smut

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holylulusworld · 1 year

Text

His prey - Kinktober 31

Summary: Your saviour has arrived.

Pairing: Nomad!SteveRogers x Innocent!Reader

Kink: stalking

Square 3 filled for @anyfandomangstbingo: stalker au

Square 7 filled for @anyfandomdarkbingo: social anxiety

Warnings: angst, stalking, anxiety, social anxiety, mentions of past sexual assault (not the reader)/attempted sexual assault/violence/murder/strangling, mentions of loss of loved ones, virgin reader, implied innocence/virginity kink, protective/possessive Steve, implied murder, betrayal, gaslighting/manipulation (maybe? just in case), a hint of fluff

A/N: idea by @elle14-blog1 (viginity kink) I didn’t turn this into a smutty one. It didn’t match the story in the end. Maybe I’ll come back to the story and write more using the kink.

Words: 2,5 k

Kinktober 2022

Please head the warnings. I mentioned the reader’s past and why she’s got anxiety, social anxiety and so on. It’s not explicit, but contains triggers.

This was a warning. Not an advertisement.

Duck your head. Avoid eye contact. Don’t talk to too many people.

In your mind, you repeat your mantra. If you don’t get nervous, you won’t get anxious. If you won’t get anxious, no one will believe you are not normal.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

“Can I help you, miss?” the clerk at the grocery store asks. You were standing in front of one of the shelves for too long, and he got worried. Or he believed you are a shoplifter.

Why can’t people just leave you alone? Why do they always try to force you to talk to them? Why? Just why?

Breathe in. Breathe out.

“Oh, I’m fine. I was just looking at the cat food. My cat didn’t like the one I bought for her,” you nervously babble. It’s the truth. You need food for your cat.

“I get it. It’s a lot of food for cats,” the young man nervously chuckles, giving you a boyish grin. He can’t be elder than seventeen.

He’s no threat.

He’s not going to hurt you.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

“I don’t have a cat, but my granny always buys that one for her six cats,” he continues, not recognizing your shaking hands or that you struggle to control your breathing. “They are all like ten years old and fat. I guess it’s good.”

He shrugs.

You nod.

“T-hank you. I’ll try that one,“ you say only to get rid of the boy. It’s not his fault. You know that. Your mind just doesn’t want to agree.

“Anytime, miss. Have a great day.”

He leaves.

You relax.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Get everything you will need for at least a week. Leave the store. Drive home. Be safe.

Your hands shake a little when you reach out to get the first of many items you’ll need. It’s Halloween soon and you don’t want to go to town while everyone is going crazy.

You want to stay at home. Lock your door. Leave the world outside.

Just you, yourself, and your cat.

Well, two cats…or three. You don’t know. There is this newcomer who comes to your house to get food and runs off the next day.

You take another deep breath.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

You finally gather enough strength to push the shopping cart toward the next shelf. Only a few more items and you can go home.

Safe.

Unharmed.

Alone. - Just how you like it.

“Snowball, Salem, newcomer,” you call for your cats. “Come inside. It’s going to rain soon. Come here, kitty. I know you are hungry.”

You smile as your cats run toward the front door. No one can see you are clutching it tight enough to hurt your knuckles.

Going out. Always a struggle.

“Good kitties.”

You close the door and lock it. It takes some time with all the safety locks you have, but it’s for your own safety, and to keep the anxiety at a low level.

A pair of worried blue eyes followed your every move. The man hid behind one of your trees until you closed the door.

He stays in the shadows. Always in the shadows.

He calls himself your guardian angel. Your savior. The one keeping you safe from the world.

Steve watches you from afar.

It's been a while since anyone called him the golden boy.

He's a wanted man. Dishonored. Abandoned. Framed.

You are the light in this dark world, and he'll make sure to keep you in his life.

You will be his best girl.

Steve only has to convince you to give in...

Halloween evening. The day you always loved. The day you fear now.

You stand in front of your door, hand reaching out for the locks to let your cats in. Anxiety spikes up once again. Your hands tremble.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

“You need to let the cats inside. It’s Halloween. You can’t leave them outside.”

Slowly unlocking your safety locks, you take deep breaths.

Open the door. Call for your cats. Lock the door again. Hide.

“Come here k-“ your grip your door a little tighter as two young men stand in front of your door. One of them has snowball in his arms. He smirks darkly as you try to not let him see your fear.

“See, I told she’s a young one. She’s got an expensive car and this big house,” the other boy singsongs. You remember him. It’s the clerk from the grocery store. “We only had to come here when everyone else is busy with Halloween. I bet she’s got a lot of money for us.”

“Or something sweeter,” the boy holding your cat says.

“P-lease leave me alone. I-I got no money here. Please…” you’re shaking in fear. Flashbacks of your past haunt you and you can barely breathe.

“I think she invited us in, don’t you think?” you shake your head at the boy. He drops your cat, shooing her away as he steps closer to reach out for you.

You fear the worst. Your vision becomes blurry and breathing becomes harder.

Before he can touch you, he’s gone. Taken away by an invisible attacker. At least to your vision.

“She doesn’t want you here!” fighting your blurry vision you watch the third man punch the boy from the grocery store.

You must be dreaming. If not, the absent Captain America just came to your rescue.

“Captain America?”

You pass out. Darkness welcomes you.

“NO!” you scream as you jolt up on your bed. “I-no! PLEASE!”

“Doll, you’re safe.”

Your eyes go wide as a stranger is in your bedroom.

“You’re Captain America.”

You swallow thickly.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

You can’t embarrass yourself in front of a hero.

“I made sure the boys got arrested and brought your cats into the house. But first, I carried you inside. You passed out on me, miss.”

“You were there,” you whimper. It’s so embarrassing a hero had to save you from some kids. “You saved me.”

“I walked by. You know, I like to go for a walk at night. Then I saw the kids threaten you.”

You don’t overthink his story. Why would you? He’s Captain America and saved you.

“Thank you.”

“It’s my duty to protect the innocent,” he steps closer to your bed to hand you a cup of tea. “I know you don’t like having people around you. I-I’m the same.”

“It’s not you. It’s me.”

“It’s the world outside, doll,” he offers a soft smile, making you feel warm. Just like a soft blanket and hot chocolate. “I didn’t want to intrude. You passed out and I had to carry you inside.”

You whimper. “The police. Do they want a statement?”

“I told them everything that happened. Don’t you worry,” Steve nods to himself. “You can talk to them if you want to, though.”

“No. I-“

“Do you want me to leave?” no one ever asked you. They all offer their help and try to make you normal again. But there is no going back to normal.

“I-“ you shake your head.

He’s safe.

“I can wait downstairs till the morning comes if you feel safer that way.”

“Can you,” sipping at the tea, you need a moment to find the words, “stay here for a little while? You’re Captain America.”

“I was,” he offers a cracked smile. “I’m glad someone is still believing in me…”

“I do. Always did.”

If only he was around back then.

He smiles. There is something in his eyes, but you brush it off.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

“If you ever tell anyone about this,” Steve looks over the boys’ heads. His features darken as he looks the clerk from the grocery store straight in the eyes, “you won’t be found.”

“Sir, we won’t,” the boy stammers. “Why did you want us to scare the girl? She seemed to be harmless.”

“You never know if someone nice isn’t with Hydra. Now go and never talk to her again.”

Steve knows what he did is wrong. His old self would be ashamed.

The new Steve wants to have something good in life.

He wants to have a girl to protect and take care of.

He wants innocence to return to his life.

“I came by to check on you, doll,” Steve points at the sunflowers he placed on your front porch. “I put them there as you do not like people to get close to you.”

“I,” you smile. Steve seems to be a nice man, and a kind one. “Not you. I trust you.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t,” he bites his tongue. “I made mistakes in the past. You know what happened. I am still a wanted man.”

“A wanted man,” nodding you look at the flowers again. “Just like the ones breaking into my parents' house.”

You gasp.

Steve does the same.

You never told anyone but the police about what happened that Halloween night.

“I’m sorry, doll.”

“I’m scared of people. Scared of being close to anyone since that night,” you wipe your eyes. “These men came to my home and they—”

“You don’t have to talk about it,” he is by your side in two long steps. “Maybe you should go back inside. It’s alright. I can come back another time.”

“No, I,” you wrap your hand around his wrist, gasping audibly.

You never touched a man before.

Not since that night.

“Let’s head inside then,” Steve offers. “We can put those flowers in a vase too.”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Steve follows you inside your living room. He sits next to you on the couch, careful to not scare you.

“Three men broke into our house,” you begin. “It was Halloween. My friends and I were out to get some more sweets. I was running late. Mom told me to be back at ten. I came home at eleven.”

Steve gently runs his hand over your back, testing the waters.

“I sneaked inside the house using the back door. If only I used the front door, I would’ve seen someone broke in. The house was silent. It was odd. You know,” you look at Steve. “Like in one of those awful horror movies. The girl walks inside a house and it’s silent and pitch black.”

“Doll…”

“Usually, dad and my brother would’ve watched stupid horror movies. Mom would sit next to them, laughing about the stupid people getting killed. My big sister would nag about the movie but gnaw at her nails as she was scared.”

You take a deep breath and another.

Steve just sits next to you. He offers safety and warmth. It feels like he wrapped you into a warm blanket and cradles you like your mom used to do when you were a little girl.

“I put my bag with sweets away. It was late. I was tired. The house was silent,” you swallow audibly, “until it wasn’t. A single scream coming from my sister’s room tore through the silence like a knife. I was frozen to the spot, unable to move as I heard my sister call for my mother like a little girl. She screamed for help…”

“Oh, doll.”

“I…I dropped to my knees to hide behind the sofa. All I could do was dial 911,” you whisper. “I didn’t know my parents and brother died hours ago. They only kept my sister alive to…”

“Did they get them? Did they get punished?”

You nod.

“I crawled toward the kitchen. I was only fourteen, but I had to help my sister,” you wipe your eyes. “I got the biggest knife I could find and kicked off my shoes. If only I could sneak toward my sister’s room, I could save her. Right?”

“Doll…”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

“I reached her room. It was the first one right next to the stairs. I-I saw a man squeezing her throat. He groaned and then he got off her. I didn’t understand at first. I didn’t see her eyes were…lifeless,” you choke on your tears. “Later the coroner said in the courtroom that the last one r-aping her,” your voice trembles, “he wanted to make sure she doesn’t scream again. He strangled her with his bare hand.”

Steve can’t find his voice. He closes his eyes and forces the images of the men he killed a few weeks ago away.

He doesn’t tell you he already knew most of your story.

He just didn’t know every detail.

“I gasped and one of the others saw me. He smirked and pointed toward me. That monster said, now their night will get even better as they can have the last Y/L/N too. He said that I’m just his type.”

“Did he…”

“He tried,” you bury your face in the palm of your hands. You’ve got no clue why you feel comfortable enough around Steve to tell him about the worst day in your life. “But…he couldn’t…he couldn’t get it up. Not that he didn’t try.”

You are crying now. “I wish I could say something to make you feel better.”

“He held a knife to my throat as he climbed on top of me, telling me how he’s going to make me a woman,” tears drop onto your hands. “The cops stormed into the house. I don’t remember much after that.”

You didn’t even recognize you grasped his hand to hold it tightly. “At the hospital one of the female officers told me that my whole family got killed that night. She tried to convince me that it wasn’t my fault. But why do I feel like it was my fault alone?”

“It wasn’t your fault. Those men did all of this.”

“I know,” you smile when he squeezes your hand. “Everyone told me to move on you know. But how can you move on after this? How?”

“Did no one ever support you? A boyfriend maybe?” he leans a little closer to whisper in your ear.

“I never had a boyfriend. I can’t even talk to people,” Steve feels his heart jump in his chest. He assumed that you are innocent in any way, but wasn’t sure.

“You are talking to me, Y/N.”

“It’s crazy. I can’t explain it,” you mumble. “I haven't talked to anyone this long for like ever. Since that night, I just couldn’t.”

“I feel honored, doll.”

“Captain?”

You breathe in. You breathe out.

“Yes.”

“Where do you live if I may ask?” you glance at Steve.

“I move from town to town. You know, renting an apartment while being a wanted man is not easy.”

“I got a few spare rooms,” your mind is at ease close to Steve, and you feel warm.

He’s safe.

He’s not going to hurt you.

“Do you want to stay here for a few days?”

Steve smiles softly. He nods and keeps a straight face while his heart wants to burst.

He found his angel.

Steve only needs a little more time to make you see, you will be always safe with him, and in his arms.

He’ll take his time before he makes you his girl completely.

After everything you’ve been through, you’ll need someone to protect and take care of you first.

Steve will win your heart and touch your soul.

He found his light and will never give it up…

This is it. The end of kinktober 2022. Happy Halloween everyone. And for those who don’t celebrate and/or care about Halloween, a nice Monday.

Tags in reblog.

#steve rogers x you #anyfandomdarkbingo #anyfandomangstbingo #nomad steve rogers #Nomad!Steve x Reader #Nomad!Steve Rogers x fem!Reader #tw: stalking #kinktober 2022 #kinktober day 31 #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers

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sofreddie · 2 years

Text

The Road to You

Summary: Dean convinces the crew to take a well-earned vacation, though he may have ulterior, matchmaker motives. Though nothing ever goes according to plan for the Winchesters, does it?

Characters: Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader

Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, Angst, DUBCON, Drugging/Roofies, Rut, Smut (Unprotected Sex, Knotting), Marking/Claiming

AU: VACATION AU (@spnaubingo)

SW BINGO: MUTUAL PINING (@samwinchesterbingo)

FLUFF: BONDAGE (@anyfandomfluffbingo)

ANGST: CAR ACCIDENT (@anyfandomangstbingo)

KINK: KNOTTING KINK (@anyfandomkinkbingo)

WC: 4212

"I can't believe I finally got you two to agree on an actual, real vacation," Dean chuckled gleefully, standing by as Sam and Y/N dumped their bags in the trunk of the Impala. The backs of their hands innocently brushed as they placed the bags inside, the both of them bashful and awkward and they smiled it off.

Sam groaned inwardly at himself. Really, his pining over Y/N had gotten beyond ridiculous. She'd caught and seized his attention since the moment they met. A fellow hunter, and a skilled one at that, Y/N was also an Omega - opposite to his Alpha and unlike any Omega he'd ever met before or since.

He'd fallen irreparably in love by the end of the hunt, grateful for Dean's suggestion that she hang around, see the Bunker, and help on a few more hunts. He suspected his Alpha brother of honing in on the Omega, trying to lay his own claim. He wouldn't blame him in the slightest, though his inner Alpha wasn't about to just allow it.

Turns out his older brother was more intuitive than he gave him credit for.

Dean had sensed the connection almost as quick as it had been established, their scents and body language giving him initial hints. By the end of that first hunt, he knew his little brother had it bad. His instinct told him it was mutual.

So he invited her along - the Alpha within now seeing her as his brother's potential mate and a member of his pack - and she'd been with them ever since. Much to Sam's delight and his suffering. Because from his point of view, as much as he wanted her, he couldn't bring himself to make the first move. And if she didn't either, then maybe she didn't want him after all.

That's what led, in part, to Dean deciding they needed a real vacation as normal people do. They earned a break, damnit, and Dean was determined to use this time to recharge. He was also sure it was just what Sam and Y/N needed to finally connect.

"Yeah, well, you sold me on the seclusion and relaxation of it all," Y/N grinned, taking her usual seat in the back as the brothers climbed in the front, the doors shutting in one synchronous sound.

"Where is this place again?" Sam asked as the Impala pulled out onto the road.

"It's a large campground complex that's part of the national parks," Dean explained, "There's a clubhouse and a bunch of smaller cabins closer together. We got one of the more secluded cabins, still on the camp's grounds but further out from others, more secluded," he grinned, excitedly explaining. He did a lot of research to find something they could all enjoy.

"There's a large lake where you can go fishing, swimming, rent a canoe. You can go hiking through the woods and trails. Y/N can relax in the jacuzzi tub and catch up on her trashy gas station novels," he continued with a shit-eating grin aimed at Y/N in the rearview mirror.

"Hey, don't judge. We all gotta get our lovin' somehow," she chuckled, blushing as she caught Sam's gaze.

"You'll see," Dean added, his plan of getting the two idiots together ever-present in his mind, "It'll be perfect for everyone."

Dean was right. The cabin was perfect. When they entered the campgrounds via the dirt road off the highway, they passed by the clubhouse and other cabins, the lake, and other structures scattered about. Then everything was gone and quiet, just the lake, the trees, and the dirt road along which they traveled. Y/N had begun to wonder if they were even in the campgrounds anymore when the cabin came into view.

With surprise, excitement, and readiness, the trio unloaded their bags into the quaint cabin, walking around to examine their surroundings for their stay.

"Well," Dean clapped his hands together as he joined the others in the main area of the cabin, "I say we go into town and stock up on a few supplies for our vacation."

"Yeah, I wanna get a few things too," Sam agreed, the pair looking to Y/N.

"Nah, you two go ahead. I think I'm gonna take advantage of that tub," she giggled, wagging her brows playfully.

The guys laughed, bidding their farewells and promising to return as soon as possible, to which she encouraged them to take their time.

The trip to the local grocery store was quick, the two of them splitting up the store and items needed, before meeting back up to check out. As they finished loading their haul, however, Dean's attention was drawn to the bar across the street. A small group of scantily dressed, giggling young women chatted amongst themselves as they entered the bar.

"You know, we are on vacation," Dean began, turning to grin at his brother. Sam had seen the whole thing, letting out a sigh, knowing exactly what was on his brother's mind.

"Yeah, okay, Dean," Sam relented, gesturing to the bar.

"Really?" Dean perked up in surprise, falling in stride with Sam as they walked the short distance to the bar together.

"Yeah, you're right, we're on vacation after all. Let your Alpha loose," he chuckled, patting Dean on the back as they went.

Sam was more than willing to wingman for Dean, at least for a little while. Dean could use some company for his vacation. At least it would give Sam alone time with Y/N. Except what was the point in torturing himself with something that was never gonna happen?

It wasn't long before Sam found himself sat alone at the bar, Dean off by the pool tables, his laugh and that of his three female companions flitting to him over the din of the bar.

He sighed, ordering his third whiskey as he thought about Y/N like he always did. He polished off his drink, sucking his teeth as he berated himself for not manning up and just telling her how he felt. Contrary to popular belief, Alphas could feel rejection as strongly as Omegas, affecting them just as deeply.

Sam glanced around the bar, a few women catching his eye as they tried to get his attention. He did enjoy the attention from the women, reminding him that he was a true Alpha. But he couldn't bring himself to do anything, too lovesick over Y/N.

"Can I offer you a drink?" A woman's voice broke Sam's train of thought. He turned, seeing an Omega woman who sort of looked like Y/N. Though no one was like Y/N, not really.

The woman set down a glass of whiskey, obviously having paid attention to what Sam was drinking, taking the seat next to him as she nursed her own drink. A little conversation couldn't hurt, Sam supposed, as he accepted the glass with a smile and a nod, taking a generous sip as she watched.

After a while, the whiskey started to hit Sam hard. The woman - Sam still couldn't remember her name, though maybe it was Y/N, it looked like Y/N - kept the drinks flowing. It didn't usually hit him like this. To top it off it seemed like his rut was coming on, but he wasn't anywhere near due.

"Gotta find Dean," Sam slurred, sliding off his barstool and wobbling on his feet, "Gotta get home."

"I'll take you home."

Sam turned his attention to the voice, smiling dopily through his blurred vision. Y/N would take him home. He'd be fine.

Dean saw Sam on the move - hard not to with his size - and an unfamiliar woman guiding him out the doors of the bar. He grew concerned with the way Sam moved, causing him to decide to follow after and make sure he was alright. Sam never left with women. Not since Y/N came into the picture.

It took him longer than he would have liked to disentangle himself from his Beta and Omega admirers, the women pleading and pouting as he apologized and hastily made his way after his brother. He knew Sam could handle himself. Usually.

Finally making it outside, Dean could see a car pulling out of the lot and down the road, his eyes followed it as he made his way to the Impala, trying and failing to get Sam on his cell.

Dean was grateful it was easy to catch up to the car. He was growing more and more suspicious by the moment. Now on an empty stretch of highway just outside the small town limits, Dean honked his horn and flashed his lights at the car in front of him, determined to get to his brother.

The car began to swerve, Dean growing more confused as the driver lost control and veered off the side of the road, coming to a sudden halt as the car slammed into an unyielding tree.

Dean brought the Impala to a halt on the side of the road behind the wreckage. As soon as he put it in park, the passenger side door of the wreck was popping open, Sam stumbling from within. Dean held his breath as he got out the car, quickly making his way to Sam.

A glance inside the car and Dean knew the Omega woman was unconscious, or dead. He was more worried about his brother at the moment.

"Sam? What happened?" Dean demanded, holding Sam's head as he leaned against the car, trying to determine if he was hurt.

"S'not Y/N," Sam growled out with a huff, shaking Dean's hold on him and standing tall to glare down the shorter Alpha, "Where's Y/N?"

Sam's eyes were blown. More than just suddenly being in an unscheduled rut, he looked high out of his mind. Dean had to tamper down his protective Alpha at the thought of this woman fucking drugging him.

He couldn't worry about that at the moment. Right now, he needed to get Sam somewhere safe before he went full primal Alpha and scared the shit out of some innocent country residents. He dreaded to think that Sam might have caused the accident to begin with.

"Come on, let's get you in the car and I'll get you back." Dean tried, leading Sam towards the Impala.

Sam pushed Dean off, losing his balance and struggling to right himself once more.

"Where's Y/N?" Sam growled again, ready to challenge his brother if necessary.

"At the cabin!" Dean growled back, getting really frustrated with Sam's shit, "Get in the goddamn car and I'll take you to her!"

Sam held his ground for a moment longer before stumbling his way to the Impala and dropping clumsily inside. Dean cursed under his breath, getting behind the wheel and leading them back towards the relative safety of the secluded cabin.

Sam was fidgeting and mumbling, his breathing hard as he sporadically growled. His scent began to fill the car, making Dean cough with its potency. As they pulled up to the cabin, Sam climbing out before he'd even put it in park, Dean began to second guess if bringing him to Y/N in his state was really the best idea.

"Y/N?!" Sam's commanding Alpha voice boomed through the small cabin. Y/N ran from one of the back bedrooms to the main area, seeing the brothers back from their trip. One sight of Sam and she knew something was very wrong. A moment later his scent hit her, causing her to whimper as she took several cautious steps backward from him.

As Sam began to move towards her slowly, Dean cursed under his breath. He didn't want to deal with a rutting Alpha, but it seemed he'd have no choice. Not with the predatory way Sam was sizing up Y/N at that moment.

Hating the idea, but having no choice, Dean stepped around Sam, blocking him from Y/N and pushing him back slightly.

"You're not in your right mind, Sam," Dean tried, Sam immediately pushing Dean back and growling at the Alpha threat.

Dean shook his head before responding, the two Alphas trading blows and grappling, Y/N watching on in horror and shock, not knowing what to do. Eventually, Dean landed a blow that knocked Sam out, allowing him to drag Sam to his bed and tie his limbs to the posts.

"What the hell happened?" Y/N demanded of Dean as he ushered her out of the room.

"Some bitch drugged him," Dean growled, heading to the kitchen to clean his wounds. "He's in full on rut and all he cared about was you," Dean added with a pointed look that seemed to dig deep into her soul.

"Me?" she protested, "But I'm-"

"His Omega," Dean supplied for her with a knowing smirk, "At least to him. And I know you want him too," he added, stepping closer to her, "He needs you right now."

Y/N shook her head in protest, arguments of consent, willingness, and her own insecurities ready to be voiced. But Dean shut her down with a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"The drugs are making his rut worse than usual. Without an Omega, he might not get through it," he admitted with a shaky breath, "And the only one he wants is you."

Y/N sighed defeatedly, her head turning towards the room that held Sam, hearing his groans as he began to come to consciousness once more.

"Okay," Y/N agreed, knowing she'd have to help him, while he was restrained for her own safety, and hope to God that he didn't hate her afterward.

With a nod, Dean grabbed his things, quickly heading out the door to give them privacy. Y/N took a deep breath, going to Sam and the Alpha's sweet pleas for his Omega.

"I'm here, Sam," Y/N said from the doorway, her breath catching in her throat at the sight of him. He looked wild, his hands restrained to the bed above his head, his feet spread and tied at the bottom.

"Omega." Sam whined, sniffing the air and moaning at her scent, the smell of her already forming slick driving him mad with want.

"Shh," Y/N soothed as she undressed herself under Sam's heady gaze, crawling over his body and straddling his hips. Sam's body was vibrating, the heat coming off of him near scorching. "I'm gonna help you, Alpha."

Sam snarled, trying to pull his hands free and kiss her at the same time. She soothed him once more, kissing him gently, pulling back when his frenzy made him turn the kiss harsher and more demanding.

Feeling how desperate he was, she wasted no more time, unfastening his jeans and pulling them and his boxers down as much as she could with him still restrained. She was gonna try her damndest to leave her heart out of it, not wanting to get attached through the situation, only to be rejected later on.

It's just sex, she kept telling herself, just sex.

All trains of thought were swept away as Sam's glorious Alpha cock came into view, bouncing up proudly, throbbing with his desire. Her mouth watered and her pussy wept, preparing her to take the biggest cock she'd ever laid eyes on.

Sam flashed a wicked grin, licking his lips, "Like what you see, Omega?"

Y/N nodded dumbly as she crawled atop Sam once more, her wet folds pressed against his firm length, pinning it between them.

"Fuck!" Sam moaned, pulling on his restraints and bucking back into Y/N. "Wanna feel you. Wanna knot you. God, wanna knot you." Sam pleaded, his eyes squeezed closed. It all seemed like it was too much, too overwhelming for him.

"I got you, Alpha," Y/N promised, lifting her hips and guiding him to her entrance. She sat up straight as she took him into the root, her hands propped on his abs as she tried to adjust. Sam shouted and bucked his hips, desperately trying to get her to move.

Once she adjusted, Y/N began to ride him in earnest. She wished she could take her time, go slow and enjoy it, savor every little piece of Sam. But he was drugged and desperate and she had to remind herself again it wasn't mating.

It's just sex.

Sam kept pleading, even used his commanding Alpha tone to try and get Y/N to release him. He so desperately wanted his hands, to hold her, feel her, move her how he wanted. But she continued to deny him. She wasn't sure how she found the strength other than the fact that she was completely enamored with his Alpha cock, riding him hard and nearing her own release.

"Alpha," she panted, eyes squeezed shut, "I'm gonna-" she was cut off by her own moan as her climax crashed over her. Her walls squeezed Sam's cock hard, pulsing and milking his shaft.

He growled, his hands balled into fists as he tugged hard against his restraints. In an instant, the ropes binding his hands snapped. Y/N only had a moment to comprehend what had just happened as Sam's hands could finally get a hold of her.

One hand on her ass to hold her steady, the other bunching in her hair, Sam began pounding up into her at a relentless pace, holding her to take what he wanted to give.

Y/N screamed, too filled with pleasure - and a hint of pain - to really form a cohesive thought.

Sam couldn't even speak, too far gone on his need. He had to knot her. It's something he thought about constantly. His cock inside her, his knot locking them together, holding his seed deep inside where it belonged.

She suddenly came once more, clamping down hard on his shaft. Sam roared, his knot popping and locking them together. Without a thought, he sank his teeth deep into her throat, marking her forever as his.

They both passed out almost instantly, still locked together, Y/N draped across Sam's body, her blood still staining his lips.

Y/N woke first, her body aching as she looked down at a still sleeping Sam. His knot had gone down, so she carefully removed herself from Sam and the bed, making sure not to wake him. She didn't know if he would still be in primal Alpha mode or not.

Hastily dressing, she made her way into the main living area of the cabin, finding Dean nursing a drink on the couch. His eyes flashed to her, scanning her head to toe, his expression changing to concern as he rose from the couch.

"You okay?" he asked.

"He broke the ropes," she whispered, unable to hold his gaze. He could see the claim at her neck.

"Are you okay?" he asked again.

"I don't know," she admitted, her body shaking slightly, "I feel like I need to run away."

"Okay, well let's not do that," Dean chided, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and guiding her to sit next to him on the couch, passing her his half-full glass of whiskey.

She downed it in one go with a hiss, silently shaking it at him for a refill. He chuckled, filling it for her and watching as she nursed it this time.

"He claimed me," Y/N uttered to the void, the mere thought of it just really starting to sink in.

"Hey," Dean nudged her, "I was hoping that coming up here would get you two together somehow," he admitted sheepishly, feeling awful with how things turned out. "I know Sam wanted to claim you, for the longest time. He's gonna be so heartbroken over how it happened, but he's not gonna regret the claim, Y/N."

She wanted to be pissed at Dean's attempt to interfere. She wanted to protest what he was saying because that's what she always did in her mind. Find a reason or excuse to not be with him. But somehow, he said just what she needed to hear to calm her nerves.

At least until a groggy and confused Sam shuffled out to the main area, looking between the two sat on the couch.

"Hey, Sam," Dean cautiously rose from the couch and approached his brother like a wounded animal, only confusing Sam further.

"What the hell happened?" Sam croaked out. "I woke up with a massive headache, feet tied to the bed, dick hanging out," Sam huffed out annoyed. "Look at my fucking wrists!" He added with a panicked roar.

Dean cursed to himself once again, guiding Sam to the now-empty couch. Apparently, Y/N has slithered away during the distraction. He only hoped she wasn't going to actually run. No one needed a newly mated Alpha freaking out trying to find his missing mate.

Dean grabbed a first aid kit and took a seat on the small table in front of the couch, looking over Sam's wrists. They were chafed and raw, with dried blood in some spots. He set to work treating and wrapping the wounds as best he could.

"What do you remember from last night?" Dean asked carefully, finishing the job at hand and settling back to focus on Sam.

"I remember going to the bar," Sam admitted, struggling to process his thoughts. "Then-" Sam tried to find any recollection, coming up completely blank. All he could think was Y/N's name, which wasn't helping any.

Taking in a long, deep breath, Dean proceeded to explain to Sam the events of the previous night, leading up to Sam's appearance that morning. Then he fell silent as he watched Sam carefully, not really sure what sort of response he was gonna get but ready to handle whatever came.

It took longer than he would have liked for the information to really settle in his mind. Once it did, Sam was horrified. Not because he didn't want it, but because of how it went down and that he thinks she didn't want it.

"Does she hate me?" Sam finally spoke, swallowing hard.

Dean scoffed, rising to his feet and pacing, "You two are the biggest fucking idiots, I swear!" He shouted, tugging on his own hair, "You're saying the same things, you know? You both think the other doesn't want it but you do."

"Dean, you don't understand-"

"I understand," Dean growled in frustration, grabbing Sam by the arm and shoving him into the room he and Y/N shared the night before, happy to see she was huddled inside and not run away, "You're mated now. Figure it out!"

Dean slammed the door shut behind him, leaning against the wall next to it with his arms crossed. He claimed her, they were mated. There was no undoing what was done. He was tired of the tiptoeing before. Now…well, now there was just no room or excuse anymore.

Sam stood in shock as he stared at Y/N sat on the edge of the bed. The bed he woke up in. The bed he was tied to; the bed where he and Y/N… He swallowed hard, the sight of his claim on her neck causing his cock to swell without his permission. It was angry and red, he could tell he bit deep and hard. His Alpha was proud, but he was ashamed.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry," Sam began, choking back the tears forming in his eyes.

She didn't know what to say. It wasn't his fault, not really. He wasn't in control because of the rut.

"Omega." Sam whined, stumbling towards her and falling at her feet. She jumped in surprise, seeing Sam suddenly kneeling before her, his hands on the bed beside her hips.

She could see his tears did fall then, the remorse and love in his eyes almost too much to bear. As if on autopilot, she reached out a hand, cupping his cheek. Sam sobbed harder at her touch, dropping his head to her chest and wrapping his arms around her waist as he sobbed.

Her heart broke, both for Sam and her Alpha. She could feel his emotions going crazy, matching her own turmoil. But all she wanted at that moment was to ease his suffering.

"Sam," she urged, trying to lift his head, "Alpha."

Sam sniffled, raising his gaze to meet hers. She smiled warmly, cupping his cheek once more and leaning in to peck his lips sweetly.

"That's not how I wanted it to be," Sam admitted, shaking his head. "I wanted to claim you so bad, for so long. But I wanted it to be special somehow."

Her heart swelled at his admission. It was what she wanted too.

"You really don't remember anything?" she asked sadly, Sam shaking his head in response. He wished he could remember, even if it hurt. It wasn't fair she had to carry that for the both of them.

"Then we can have a do-over," she offered with a small grin, "And give us both the memory we really want."

Sam couldn't help the broad smile that split his face, his heart so full he felt like it might explode. So he dove in, kissing her as deeply as he could - though it was mostly teeth as they both smiled and laughed.

It was a long, winding road to get here, but he couldn't complain as he renewed his claim at her neck, knotting her like he always dreamed.

Forevers:

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