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duskamethyst · 3 years

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stranger danger.

a/n: did i sit on top of my car to imagine this? sure did. a part of the jujutsu hub collab! thank you vee @suna-reversed for organizing this horny event for us horny people.

word count: 3.8k

genre: smut, nsfw, pwp

warnings: dubcon, literally dumbass porn, degradation + praising kink, daddy kink, gun play, mentions of alcohol consumption, dui and death, public sex, overstimulation, squirting, creampie, implied kidnapping

pairing: criminal!toji x f!reader

summary: dozing off in a parking lot seems dangerous but it seems like the right thing to do. that is, until a mysterious man taps on your window.

you shouldn’t have trusted yourself. you’ve vowed to yourself not to drink tonight, especially when you were driving to the city by yourself. maybe one drink wouldn’t hurt, you thought. but that one drink led you to another until you eventually found yourself light headed and could barely walk in a straight line let alone drive home.

so now you decide it’s best to just stop in a random parking lot and doze off for a couple of hours until you’re certain that you’re sober and ready to continue your journey back home. thankfully the lights are on and there are a few other empty cars in the lot, giving you somewhat a sense of security.

even though you aren’t completely sane at the moment, you make sure the doors are locked, turn off the engine and roll your windows down slightly to allow ventilation. if you could avoid a possible car crash, might as well avoid dying from inhaling some fatal gas. so you push back your seat and close your eyes to let sleep take you over.

but it isn’t for long until you hear a knock on the window.

startled and confused, you instantly get up thinking it would be one of the securities patrolling the area, telling you to scram but you’re only met with a rather handsome man, tall and brawny standing next to your car.

he leans down to your eye level and glares at you intimidatingly before he speaks, “get out.”

in such a panicky situation, your heavy cluttered brain doesn’t really tell you what to do nor what the hell is happening so you only stare back at him tongue tied, unable to properly gauge the situation thanks to both chemicals in your system and adrenaline pumping through your veins.

“are you deaf?” he snarls with anger distorting his face.

the sharp eyes piercing through you coupled with the discernible scar on his lips go so well into his menacing demeanor and you’re aware he’s getting impatient. unsure of what to do, your hand reaches for your keys to turn on the engine, thinking it’s best to leave but he bangs on the window as if to tell you that isn’t what he wanted.

“i only told you to get out. so, get the fuck out. now.” toji waits for you to comply, but instead you just sit there frozen and he sighs in exasperation. “look, i have a fucking gun. and if you don’t do as i say, i won’t hesitate to shoot your brains off. you don’t need it anyway, right?”

toji fishes out his gun, waving it in front of you in warning. “and you’d be fucking dumb to think it isn’t loaded.”

the threatening sight of the firearm is finally what makes you unlock your doors and he immediately swings the door open and pulls you out from your vehicle by the wrist. toji eyes you up and down, taking a special interest in the mini skirt you don with a filthy smirk across his face. he peeks inside the car briefly, delighted over the fact that you’re all alone in the middle of the night– in some deserted parking lot, no less.

“where were you from?” he suddenly asks with less gruff in his tone. the eyes raking up and down your smaller frame so flagrantly makes you feel small and vulnerable.

you lick your lips to return moisture lost to parched skin as your eyes shift from his gun to his face. “a party.”

“a party, hm?” he does a double take on your whole skimpy outfit, sending a plethora of titillating thoughts to run in his head and waking up his primal instincts. he hasn’t gotten his dick wet for a while and opportunities don’t come by so easily when he’s a man on the run. he’d have to be an idiot to let this chance slip through his fingers.

“must’ve put a lot of thought on your outfit tonight. why don’t you give me a little twirl?”

toji deliberately taps the gun on the side of his thigh, reminding you what could happen if you either scream or run. getting the hint, you decide to entertain him, knowing well that you could end up with a bullet in any part of your body if you try to escape.

but do you oppose the idea of a sickeningly attractive man trying to check you out with a weapon in his hand? not really. if anything, the alarming nature of the affair only gives a delicious thrill to your already messed up nerves.

his predatory gaze is fixed on your voluptuous curves and the little sway of your hips as you gracelessly turn around in your heels, making blood rush straight down to his cock before telling you to stop.

“get in front of the car.” he urges.

“huh? why?”

toji cocks the loaded gun in front of you, his expression turning stern and serious once more. “no talking, just do it.”

you walk towards the front with the gun behind your head, careful not to miss your step until you’re facing your car.

“hands on the hood.” he demands, dark eyes silently watching you do as you’re told like a well-trained dog.

you’re certain he can see your ass cheeks peeking underneath the hem of your skirt as cold air hits your skin. the thought of a pair of eyes staring you down hungrily forms an anticipative knot to pull tightly in your stomach as your mind wonders about the dirty things he might and could do to you.

the next thing you feel is the cool metal of the barrel under your skirt, making you shudder as it caresses your puffy folds before dragging upwards to hike up the hem of your unbearably short skirt in favor of checking your panties but oh, what a delightful surprise– not a single thread underneath it all.

“no panties?” he bites back a groan when he notices the glistening slick coated around his black gun. “don’t tell me you’re getting off to this?”

“‘m not–” you deny meekly despite the blossoming heat between your thighs growing bigger when you feel the tip of the barrel against your drenched cunt again.

“don’t lie. you’re a little slut aren’t you? went to a party without your panties on– something tells me you’re an attention whore.” he mocks, poking the gun against your entrance only to observe your little squirms.

“not a slut!” you whine giddily as you spontaneously grind against the long barrel in seek of relief for the dull ache that has formed in your core.

“no? you’re gonna tell me you’re not jerking off to my gun right now?” he chastises with a satirical smile on his lips, feeling his cock harden even more from watching the way you’re eagerly rubbing against the gun he currently holds in his hand.

“i– i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you try not to let your words slur as you play coy, even when breaths are already hitching in your throat.

“oh yeah? ‘cause that cunt is positively leaking right now.” you whimper at his words, being bad and filthy never felt so good– especially to a man you don’t even know. “bet you want me to fill that needy cunt.”

“mhm!” you mewl, gyrating your hips even more salaciously once you manage to find an angle to rub your sensitive clit, sending waves of sensations to every fiber and nerve in your body.

“now that’s an honest little slut.” he coos with amusement lacing in his voice. “why don’t you beg for it?”

you tilt your head back towards him, bottom lip jutting out into a cute pout and eyes pleading. “please..?”

toji lets out a huff, “not good enough, sweetheart.”

your eyes narrow at him, hoping he can read the desperation in them as you call him in the softest mewl that you've used to numerous guys before. “daddy.”

“hmm?” he strokes your clit by rubbing the gun back and forth and watches you quiver with a lopsided grin across his face.

“w-want– need your cock, daddy.” you pant in a shameless expression of your need for him.

“what do you need daddy to do to you, pretty girl?” he studies the barrel, now smeared with your slick.

“need daddy to fuck me– fuck my little tight cunt.”

toji draws his gun away and raises it at the back of your head. “then, get on your knees.”

you don’t need to be told twice as you instantly turn around and face him, the gun now pointing directly to your forehead and follows you even until you’re already kneeled in front him.

“you went a little too fast there, didn’t you?” he chuckles, the sound is smoky and alluring. “so eager. now, take off my pants.”

your hand reaches up to unbuckle his belt and undo his button before pulling the zipper down and tugging off his pants and briefs hastily. your mouth waters at the sight; his thick cock is already throbbing, tip flushing red and leaking precum with a prominent vein on the underside – causing you to quickly disregard the life-threatening weapon in front of your head.

seeing you blatantly gawk at him causes pride to spiral in his chest, as if you’ve never seen a dick before. but is it bad for toji to assume that you've never seen a dick as big as his?

“getting nervous now?” he teases. “fuck that. put it inside your mouth.”

toji exhales sharply once your tongue carefully licks off the salty pre on the tip, rousing him further with only kitten licks until the barrel nudges your head in warning, forcing you to stop your ministrations.

“are you asking to get a hole through your head?” he scowls, showing apparent irritation.

“no.” you answer meekly.

“then? i told you to put it inside your fucking mouth.”

“‘m sorry, daddy.” you wrap your fingers around the base of his cock and give it a few pumps up and down his shaft in hopes to please him and calm him down. “promise i’ll be a good girl.”

“then stop fucking around.”

without a second to waste, you wrap your lips around his cock and hollow your cheeks, squeezing and milking his cock with your tongue and throat as your head bobs up and down. you graze your tongue on the underside and slowly drag upwards, following the curve of his vein before giving a harsh suck on his tip, drawing out a loud groan from his throat.

“look at daddy.”

and you do, fixing your gaze with his darker ones as you slobber his cock with so much drool and you relax your throat in order to force yourself down to the base, devouring him whole even as he tilts the gun next to your head.

“wish i had my phone right now. you should see how you look.” his other hand reaches the top of your head, holding you in place and causes you to choke slightly before jerking his hips forward and begins to fuck your throat.

squelching noises resonate in the silent air, mingled with his grunts. drool starts to seep from the corners of your mouth and tears begin to well up in your eyes as his heavy balls slap against your chin.

“boys must really love you, hm?” you can feel the tension in his fingers as he puts monumental effort into restraining himself and he finally draws his gun away. “just taking it like a good girl.”

you can only whimper around his cock, the praise making you feel hotter that you find your hand between your thighs to push a finger inside your wet cunt.

“fuck– yeah, keep touching yourself like that.” he growls, the sound rumbling in his chest as the vibrations from your muffled moans are slowly sending him to the brink of an orgasm.

you’re too immersed by your own finger pumping in and out to even care about the ache that has formed on your jaw but the moment you feel his cock twitching, you both know it won’t be long until he breaks down.

“you’re gonna swallow all of it. got it?” he states more than questions, feeling his balls tightening as he starts to lose the last remaining control he owns.

you hum in response and flutter your eyes close and you wait until his hips still before he spurts thick ropes of cum down your throat, invading all your senses with the bitter taste of his load.

once he has emptied, you pull away with your tongue gliding along his length, not forgetting to lick off the sensitive slit to clean off any remnants.

“open your mouth.” he demands. you part your puffy lips and stick your tongue out, showing your obedience to his prior order and a delightful smirk makes its way on his face upon seeing that you’ve downed every drop of his cum. “good girl.”

“to be honest, i didn’t think you’d cum quickly.” you blurt out bluntly.

his brows furrow and his face contorts into a scowl. “‘fuck did you say?”

you shrug nonchalantly. you don’t know where it’s coming from either– the alcohol still lingering in your veins or the fact that you feel beyond proud that you’ve made him, some guy who claimed that he wanted to rob your car cum so fast. “well, all the guys told me i give the best head but none of them ever–”

“get up. face the car.”

toji clicks his tongue as you blink at him in confusion and he grabs your arm to pull you up on your feet before spinning you around and bending you down on the hood with his body pressing against your back. you swallow nervously when you feel a nudge against your ass, his dick is still hard despite the fact that he has cummed just a minute ago.

“you’re gonna regret that. once i fucking ravage that little cunt, you’re gonna be begging for me to cum quick.” he leans down to your ear as he threatens, sending shivers up and down your spine.

“i’m sor–”

“no. i won’t give a shit if it hurts you or when you cry for me to stop.”

toji gives a harsh smack on the plump flesh, making you jolt in surprise. with your hands down on the hood, he lifts up one of your knees on top of the car, causing you to spread wide open in an instant before he impatiently pokes the tip of his cock against your pulsating hole.

“but that’s what you want, right?”

your eyes roll back, lips parting in an appreciative squeal as you feel his fat cock stretches you out accompanied with a delicious burn when he sinks in deeper.

“mmh– s-so big–!”

“yeah? never had a dick this big before?” toji pulls out almost completely, eyes fixed on the cock glistening with your slick under the street lights, not missing the white cream attached onto the skin.

“n-no– ah–!”

toji cuts you off with one hard slam of his hips, drilling his cock into your tight pussy in a brutal pace while you keen and whimper as it brushes against your walls, each stretch and drag inside you so exquisite while deep crescent shapes of his nails form on your pliant skin as he holds you firmly by the hips for leverage.

“no wonder you’re so fucking tight. stupid boys didn’t know how to fuck you right.” his words thrum in a burst of heat as he growls in your ear, breaking through your every thought.

you tilt your head towards him with heavy lidded eyes and meet his lust addled gaze. your mouth is gaping in breathless moans, tongue slightly lolled out from your lips as you try to reach closer to his scarred lips, wanting to crash your lips onto his before it stretches into a devilish smirk and you feel warm liquid lands on your palate.

“you looked like you were begging to taste my spit.” he mocks. toji watches as you eagerly swallow it down your throat and he lets out a brittle chuckle. “dirty slut.”

your pussy flutters upon hearing how he degrades you, causing you to buck your hips wildly against him in an attempt to meet his thrusts.

“you liked that, didn’t you? i can feel you clamping down on me like a fucking whore.” he derides, fucking you harder and deeper until your world is reduced into nothing but the way he makes you feel completely stuffed and filled, the cockhead kissing your cervix with each deep strokes.

“please– make me cum, daddy–” you keen as pressure pulls taut in your lower stomach, the slick noises are so loud that the both of you can hear them even through your moans.

your body flushes against his, so close together and you can only focus on the sounds of flesh against flesh, the salacious rhythm making you more delirious.

“then, cum for me. let me feel you gush all over me.” toji brings his fingers to rub against your clit, easily tipping you over the edge by pressing tight circles until you find yourself crashing down with an orgasm exploding throughout your body.

“you want more?” he taunts, helping you ride out the aftershock by continuously rutting his hips into your cunt and not giving you the slightest chance to recuperate.

“ah– ‘s too much–” you whimper as soon as the pleasure begins to numb and you clutch onto his wrist tightly to try and pry his hand away from your sensitive clit.

“too much? don’t think that i’m done with you yet.”

toji finally draws away from you, but only turns you around to face him and effortlessly puts you on top of the hood with your elbows propping your weight. with his hands, he spreads and keeps your legs apart before sheathing his cock back inside your pulsing cunt again, completely mindless of your pathetic sobs. he lifts up your top, not surprised over the lack of bra underneath and he intently watches the way your tits bounce with each merciless pound of his cock.

“s-stop– please–” you whimper feebly as you try to shut your trembling legs together but he doesn’t budge and only keeps his grip on your thighs even tighter, stretching out your pussy for him wider.

“fucking take it.”

toji ignores your plea and his head dips low to your chest, latching his mouth onto one of your nipples and starts to flick it with his tongue coupled with harsh sucks until he pulls back with a pop and watches as the nipple stands erect before assaulting the other, swiftly sending sparks of pleasure down to the bundle of nerves.

“might as well keep you around. be my personal fucktoy. would you like that?” he grins up at you to see your jaw slacking, mouth falling in a wide ‘o’ as the burn down your core begins to cease.

“yesyesyes– make me your slut–!” your toes curl, making your heels drop down to the ground while your knuckles turn white from squeezing your hands into balled fists too hard.

“yeah? you’d do anything for a good fuck, huh?” he sneers at you, although he’s fascinated with your state of arousal.

“mhm– need daddy to fill me up with his cum–” your back rests against the car, reveling in the feeling of his cock abusing your swollen cunt like you’re nothing but a sex doll.

“but daddy’s not gonna cum yet. not even when you’re tightening around him like this.” toji slams your hips down closer to him, fucking into you deeper and harder with his heavy balls smacking your ass.

“t-too deep–! daddy, i’ll–” you babble, losing the ability to form cohesive words as you feel a strange knot twisting rapidly in your guts. the feeling is too intense and unbearable– the refined drags of his vein brushing against your spongy walls is anything but agonizing.

“come on. use your big girl words.” he drags out slowly and quickly pumps back into you ruthlessly. “or are you too dumb already?”

“i’m gonna–”

toji lifts up your legs over his shoulders as he leans down closer to you and he nips on your pulse point, causing your body to tense as your hands find home in his dark locks and tight shirt.

as soon as he lets go, your pupils are blown wide as pleasure washes throughout your body and you feel yourself gushing around the cock still buried inside you along with a broken moan from your lips. the release is oddly more relieving than your prior orgasm, making your body feel lighter as your mind ascends to a state of euphoria. you find yourself panting heavily as you squirt all over him, staining his black shirt with clear fluid and with some of it dribbling down to his thick thighs.

“making such a mess on daddy.” he groans as he feels your walls convulse around him rapidly, milking his cock dry and slowly dragging him down to his own high for the second time of the night.

you can only look at him in a cockdaze with no particular thoughts running inside your head, each one formed gone like popping bubbles. your eyes glued onto every bit of his features; the brows furrowed in concentration, the lips parting in grunts, the damp matted hair against his forehead and you drink the sight of it all even when you’re not sure if you’ll remember it all the next morning.

“fuck– it’d be a shame to not cum inside this pretty cunt, right?” his thrusts turn sporadic, dick twitching as a telltale of his pending orgasm that’s soon to crash down over him. he didn’t need to hear your answer as he ruts into you faster, hips stuttering out of control before a low, guttural sound escapes his throat as he shoots hot ropes of cum, flooding into your womb and stuffing you full with his seed.

and once he lets go of your legs you can feel your whole body sore all over, but you can’t bring yourself to care nor whatever is going to happen after this when the man in front of you has given you what you truly wanted and made you feel satiated like you’ve never felt before.

toji pulls out his spent cock and runs a hand through his hair before putting his pants back on. a cocky smirk graces his lips at the sight of your fucked out body, still splayed on top of the hood with his cum dribbling out from your pussy.

he presses your cheeks together with one hand and forces you to look at him, even as your lids are getting heavy to lift.

“i was serious about you being my fucktoy– and stealing your car.” he cackles. “so, do you wanna be in the back seat or do you prefer the trunk?”

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haileygarciasunshine · 3 years

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Godricks Hollow

Pairing: Harry Potter x Fem!Reader

Written: December 15th, 2020

Posted: December 15th, 2020

Word Count: 1,665

Warning: None

This was requested from JulzLovDraco4Eva on Wattpad!

Summary: Y/N Granger has been friends with the Golden Trio for as long as she could remember, but her loyalty is tested when the group is on the run.

Christmas Masterlist

Walking through the Hogwarts courtyard, you were engrossed in one of your class textbooks. Your attention being on the book, you weren’t watching where you were going. It wasn’t long before you walked into someone.

“Hey! Watch it!” Draco exclaimed, his voice filled with annoyance. Turning to face you, his expression concerted into something unreadable. “Filthy Mudblood.” He spat.

“Leave her alone, Malfoy.” Harry’s voice sang through your ears, as he joined your side.

Rolling his eyes, Draco didn’t bother to respond before he stormed off with his minions in tow.

“T-Thanks, Harry.” You nodded not bothering to take your gaze off the ground.

“Of course,” He beamed throwing an arm around your shoulder. “What’re friends for?”

Throughout your years at Hogwarts, you had similar encounters. Whenever you seemed to be in trouble Harry always appeared at your side. You were always quick to brush it off as him being protective over Hermione’s little sister. It didn’t take long for the rest of the group to welcome you with open arms. Ron was always protective of you as well, but it was never to the extent that Harry was.

“Y/N!” A familiar voice echoed through the hall.

Whirling around you collided with a firm chest knocking you off balance. A pair of strong hands were quick to wrap about your elbows attempting to keep you steady.

Giggling you couldn’t help the smile that made its way along your lips. “Hi, Harry.”

Clearing his throat, Harry suddenly looked visibly uncomfortable. “Hi, Y-Y/N.”

An awkward silence enveloped you both.

“I...I, uh.” Harry scratched the back of his neck as he was contemplating his next set of words very carefully.

“Yes?” You questioned, gazing upwards at him with a hint of hope in your eye.

“I...I was wondering if you would want to be my date to Bill and Fleur’s wedding?” He rushed out, his voice wavering slightly.

A toothy grin made it’s way to your lips. “Oh, Harry!” You exclaimed as fireworks erupted in your stomach. Quickly, you threw your arms around Harry’s shoulders as you pulled him in for a tight hug.

Harry tensed at your reaction, before he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. The sound of his chuckles rang through your ears.

“I’ll take that as a yes then.”

---

On the day of Bill and Fleur’s wedding, there was tension in the air. There were rumors of He Who Must Not Be Named, attempting to rise in power once again. Arthur heard at work that the Dark Lord was planning to overthrow the ministry, but nobody knew when.

Since you were staying at the Burrow until the wedding, you couldn’t shake the thoughts of darkness looming around every corner, while the Dark Lord could strike at any moment.

Being friends with Harry, you knew he would go up against the Dark Lord. But the question that plagued your mind was if you were ready to face He Who Must Not Be Named.

Ron would go, which meant of course your sister would go. She and Ron had been inseparable as of lately. Sighing, you knew you would go to protect your friends.

Your mind was beginning to become clear as you sat by the fireplace. However, you didn’t hear Harry join you until he nudged your shoulder gently.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” He questioned offering you a warm smile.

“Oh, um.” You sighed. “Just thinking about how everything’s about to change.” You shrugged.

Harry turned his attention to you, as he nodded in acknowledgment. “It’ll be for the better.”

Nodding you locked gazes with him as the crackling sound of the fireplace was the only thing heard. The thought of kissing Harry quickly overwhelmed your mind.

“Hey, Guys.” Ron greeted as he quietly made his way down the spiral stairs.

Taking a breath, you averted your gaze to your shirt as you smoothed down nonexistent wrinkles.

Ron quickly bounded over to where you and Harry sat before he took his place in between you.

“What’d I miss?” He questioned beaming at you.

---

It was finally the day of the wedding. Everyone was scurrying around the house and outside in an attempt to get the last minute things ready. All the bridesmaids spent the day getting ready. Fleur’s bridesmaids mostly consisted of you, Ginny, Hermione, and her little sister, Gabrielle.

The ceremony went by rapidly, it felt like a blur. When it came time for the reception, you were able to slip away unnoticed.

Taking your heels off, you walked barefoot through the grass as the brisk night air danced along your skin. Goosebumps began forming up and down your arms. A content sigh left your lips, as you gazed at the stars.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” Harry spoke as he walked up beside you.

You hummed in response, turning to face him.

“Harry...You look..”

“I know-” He became flustered, as he dropped his gaze to the ground.

“Handsome.” You muttered as you took in his appearance.

“O-Oh, thank you.” Harry spoke, “You look beautiful.”

A blush crept its way along your cheeks. Before you could protest, Harry had shrugged off his suit jacket, wrapping it around your shoulders. Quickly he reached down taking your heels from you.

The smell of Harry overwhelmed your senses. Tugging the jacket around you tighter, fireworks erupted in your stomach.

“We should get back before they notice we’re gone.”

Frowning, you nodded your head. Just as you and Harry re-entered the tent, Kingsley Shacklebolt’s Patronus announced the ministry had fallen, while Death Eaters were on their way.

Harry's firm hand was quick to grab yours, as wedding guests began to panic and Death Eaters began showing up. Harry pulled you behind him as he began searching for the rest of the group.

“Harry!” Hermione called rushing toward’s you, as Ron was fast behind her. Before you knew it, you were staring at the familiar Tottenham Court Road.

Your sister's voice echoed through your ears. “We have to find somewhere to change.”

---

Light snow began covering the ground as you and Harry ventured to Godrick’s Hollow.

It had been months since you were first on the run. Every day, everyone gathered around the radio listening to the names of the fallen in hopes you didn’t hear a familiar name.

Walking through Godrick’s Hollow, your arm was linked through Harry’s. The small gesture sent comfort through your body. The streets were dimly lit, which allowed you both to venture around without really being seen.

As you walked through the cemetery, you cleaned off the headstone, only to see the very symbol you had been questioning. The hair on the back of your neck stood at attention. Fear began washing over you.

“Harry?” You gently called. Gazing around, your eyes landed on the man.

Confusion danced along your face before you gazed in front of you.

James & Lily Potter.

Kneeling, you pulled your wand out, making a small wreath on their grave. Standing up, you linked your arm back through Harry’s as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

“Merry Christmas, Harry.”

---

As you were running through the forest, you could feel your breaths becoming more and more shallow. Death Eaters were chasing you while yelling spells.

It had been a few months since your group had gone on the run. Hunting Horcruxes began taking its toll on everyone. Exhaustion was being to feel like an understatement. Anywhere you went, everyone was on edge ready for the next attack. Not even the tent felt safe anymore.

In no time, each of you was captured by the Death Eaters. It wasn’t surprising that they had taken you to Malfoy Manner.

“Take the rest of them,” Bellatrix spoke moving to stand before you. “I need to have a little chat with this one, girl on girl.” She taunted, as her eyes had a hint of mischief in them.

Gulping, your stomach began feeling queasy at the thought of being alone with Bellatrix.

Pushing you down, your back was met with the feeling of chilly wood. Before you knew it, she was straddling you as she screamed in your face.

Pinning your arm down, she began carving the word Mudblood into your skin. Tears began racing down your face as you felt your strength weakening by the second. Screams fell past your lips.

“Let her go!” Harry’s voice yelled.

“Well, well, well,” Bellatrix taunted as she got up. “If it isn’t lover boy, here to rescue the damsel in distress.”

---

After the fight at Malfoy manner, Ron and Hermione apparited to Shell Cottage, while Harry apparited to Saint Mungo’s hospital. The whole way, you had insisted you were fine and that you didn’t need medical attention.

Harry didn’t listen to your pleas as he raced to the emergency entrance of the hospital insisting you be healed right away.

Sitting on the hospital bed, you gazed at the ceiling counting tiles. The healer had come in and healed your scar rather quickly, however you were just waiting for the doctor to let you leave.

“Hey,” Harry spoke softly, as he took a seat beside your bed.

You hummed in response.

“I...I’m sorry.” He huffed. “I...I couldn’t stand to see you hurt. I couldn’t stop it..” His voice trailed off as he dropped his gaze to the floor.

“It’s not your fault, Harry.” You whispered, reaching over and placing a hand on his cheek.

Closing his eyes, he leaned into your touch. “I should’ve been there to stop it.”

Gazing at him, you felt the fireworks return.

“I...I.” Harry let out a frustrated sigh. Opening his eyes, he stood up before taking your face between his hands. He never broke his gaze from you. Leaning down his nose brushed against yours as his breath danced along your lips. Placing a chaste kiss to your lips, he rested his forehead against yours.

At that moment, nothing else seemed to matter.

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seehowsupplethespineis · 3 years

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When the Wind Roars

(I can’t believe I finally finished this!!! This story was originally intended to be much shorter, but...obviously I got a bit carried away. Expect lots of angst. There’s some fluff, too, but mostly ANGST.)

(Plot Summary: In the past, Starscream and Skyfire made quite the team, but even then, that partnership was put to the test. In the present, Starscream and Skyfire do battle, as Starscream tries to rid himself of their shared memories once and for all.)

(Warnings: violence, guns, injury, a bit of disturbing imagery, death mention, lots of vengeful thoughts)

Present

The wind roared deafeningly at the peak of the mountain. It had only picked up in intensity in the few cycles they’d been stationed here, bringing with it a relentless rain that blanketed the world in hues of grey. Starscream scowled as he hastened to catch a stray bit of metal before it went tumbling off the mountainside, his feet nearly slipping out from under him in the sea of mud. He hated this weather. It was cold and wet and impossible to work in.

Of course, Starscream had faced far worse weather than this, but that was of little comfort.

Rumble was also fed up. After face planting in the mud for the fourth time, the minicon threw down his supply of metal beams with a cry of outrage.

“This is stupid!” he exclaimed, “How does Megatron expect us to build anything up here?!”

Starscream scowled at him, “I did not say you could stop working!”

Rumble’s small fists balled up at his sides, “What are you gonna do about it?”

Starscream didn’t like to be challenged. Without hesitation, he chucked the piece of metal he’d been holding at Rumble, who toppled over once more.

“I said work!” The other Decepticons hastened to comply as Rumble crawled out from under the metal, studiously avoiding Starscream’s withering glare.

In all honesty, Starscream was just as furious as Rumble, though his frustration was more because he was forced to work up here on this Primusforsaken mountain; he should be leading an attack on the Autobots, not laboring in the mud. This was far beneath him.

Despite his demand that everyone keep working, Starscream paused to look up at the sky. It was grey and murky but a ray of light shone through, reaching only so far as to give a hint of warmth.

He was reminded of another planet he’d visited millions of years ago. It was just as wet and windy as this one; just as meddlesome. He hadn’t been alone then, either, nor was he alone when he’d first visited this accursed planet.

A few rain drops splattered on his optics and Starscream violently wiped them away, an irritated snarl escaping him.

“Starscream!” It was Thundercracker.

“What now?!”

“Autobots!”

At first, Starscream didn’t believe him. There was no road up to this mountain. The wheel-bound Autobots would be unable to make it up here; even by foot, the journey was too perilous. The only way up was through flight.

Starscream’s optics widened. He lowered his servos from his face to find the mountainside cast in shadow. His gaze flicked upward.

Above him, in a halo of light, hovered a large, white jet.

Starscream felt sudden heat swell within him despite the cold.

“Shoot him out of the sky!!!”

A distant planet, millions of years ago...

“This is very likely a bad idea.”

“You say that about everything.”

“No, I only say that when a situation seems hazardous...this situation seems hazardous.”

“Honestly, Skyfire, you can be so cowardly sometimes,” Starscream transformed back to root mode as he touched down on a muddy precipice. He scowled as his feet sank into the muck but kept a chipper tone as he addressed his partner, “I can barely feel the wind!”

Skyfire set down beside him. The sudden weight of the two jets shook the cliffside, sending a few boulders tumbling over the edge. Skyfire watched their descent and frowned.

“You’ve seen the weather report, Starscream,” he said quietly, “The storm could pick up any moment now.

Starscream waved a flippant servo. Raindrops spiraled off his digits, “If it does, we can handle it! We’ve suffered through far worse, you and I.”

“Perhaps,” said Skyfire, “But nothing which hampered our ability to fly away.”

Starscream shook his head; he loved Skyfire, but sometimes he was a real pain in the afterburner. They’d been on countless exploration missions before and faced plenty of unsavory weather conditions; floods, earthquakes, they’d survived them all. What was a little storm to them?

“If you want to go, fine!” Starscream started walking, “I’ll complete this mission myself.”

He’d barely taken two steps before Skyfire was at his side, as Starscream knew he’d be. The smaller jet grinned up at him and Skyfire sighed.

“Let’s just get a lay of the land and go. We can come back for those crystal samples we’re supposed to investigate when the storm lets up.”

Starscream heaved a dramatic sigh, “That could take ages, Skyfire, and we’re on a tight schedule! We’re meant to be returning to Cybertron soon.”

Skyfire glanced away at that. Starscream narrowed his optics.

“What is it?”

Fiddling with his portable scanner, Skyfire shook his head, “It’s just...Cybertron has been so...contentious of late. Part of the reason I volunteered for this expedition was because I wanted to get away for a while.”

“I thought you volunteered because I volunteered,” Starscream said with a slight smirk.

Skyfire glanced at him and smiled, “I do have a mind of my own, you know.”

“Yes,” Starscream agreed, “And it’s smart enough to follow me.”

A laugh escaped the larger jet, “Or dumb enough.”

“Nonsense! We’re highly intelligent bots, Skyfire,” Starscream ruined the sentiment by tripping over a boulder, but Skyfire righted him before his face hit the mud. Coughing slightly to hide his embarrassment, Starscream continued, “That’s why we work so perfectly together.”

Skyfire still kept a hold of Starscream’s arm as he considered his partner’s words. At last, he let his servo drift down to clutch Starscream’s hand.

“Interesting hypothesis.”

Starscream’s processor seemed to momentarily short out, but it came back online as Skyfire regarded him fondly with those brilliant blue eyes of his. Flustered, Starscream only stared, until eventually he managed to connect his processor back to his voice.

“Interesting fact,” he corrected, squeezing Skyfire’s hand, “That we shall prove now!”

He pointed up the mountain with his free servo. High above, the faintest gleam, as of polished metal, twinkled in the faint light.

“Those are the crystals.”

Skyfire squinted up at them and raised his scanner, “Hmm...they definitely have a high energy output. Akin to energon.”

“We need a sample,” Starscream broke away from Skyfire so he could take flight. Skyfire laid a hand on his shoulder before he could.

“Starscream, look at those clouds,” Skyfire gestured up at the - admittedly - ominous sky above them, “I would not advise flying.”

“So what, we climb?” Starscream had to shout to be heard over a sudden gust of wind.

“No, we wait until the weather becomes more favorable.”

A burst of lightning and a rumble of thunder punctuated Skyfire’s words. Starscream couldn’t deny the sudden thrill of apprehension that shot through his system, but he wasn’t about to be bested by a mere storm.

“I’m going for it!”

“Don’t!” Skyfire’s grip on his shoulder was more insistent, “The wind is picking up. You could get blown into the mountain side or crash to the ground. And those crystals are brimming with unstable energy! We shouldn’t get too-!”

“I am a scientist, Skyfire!” Starscream shook free of the other jet, “I know how to handle dangerous substances. And I know how to handle myself, thank you very much!”

Skyfire opened his mouth but whatever he said was lost to the wind.

“What?!” Starscream shouted.

“I said, we must seek shelter!”

“We’re on a cliff! Where-” Starscream’s response was cut short as a large rock tumbled down from above, forcing the smaller jet to leap out of the way. Scowling, he glanced up to where the rock had come from, and his optics widened as he saw still more crashing down.

“Move!” Skyfire yelled. As one, he and Starscream dove off the cliff and transformed back to jet mode. Instantly, Starscream felt the wind buffet his wings, threatening to splatter him against the cliff side. Okay, he conceded to himself, Maybe the weather is too much.

The rain poured down in earnest, now, blanketing Starscream’s windshield to the point where the world became a hazy, grey blur. A bolt of lightning arced down. It was far, far too close for his liking, and Starscream instinctively swerved away.

Extending his long range sensors, he sought a safe place to land below. Skyfire would be doing the same, he knew. His sensors probed the sky around him, trying to pinpoint the white jet so they could touch down together.

Something within him froze. He extended his sensors further, as far as he could. His engines faltered. The wind pressed in around him, rattling him to his very core, but he paid no heed.

In a moment’s frantic decision, Starscream transformed back to root mode and scanned the landscape with his optics.

Even as he plummeted to the ground, he called out desperately.

“SKYFIRE!”

Present

Energy bolts lit up the gloomy mountain as the Decepticons opened fire. As if sensing the sudden hostility, lightning split open the sky and a deep, resounding rumble followed soon after. Starscream’s optics were momentarily dazzled by the stunning displays surrounding him, and when they adjusted, three Autobots had leaped down from the sky to stand before him.

He recognized their leader, of course. Optimus Prime leveled a weapon at Starscream, though the jet paid little mind. Even as the Prime spoke, his voice deep and commanding, Starscream didn’t heed. Instead, he watched as the large, white jet above transformed and fell to the mountain top just behind Prime.

Something within Starscream burned as he locked gazes with Skyfire. Blazing red optics met piercing blue. They sliced through Starscream, as cold as the ice Skyfire had rested in for millions of years. Starscream didn’t recognize those eyes. He couldn’t even recall what they’d used to look like, though he remembered how they’d made him burn with a fire entirely different from the one raging within him now.

Prime shouted something. The Autobots charged. Two of them - Ironhide and Prowl - rushed to meet Thundercracker and Rumble. Prime defended himself against an emboldened Skywarp. And Skyfire, stance steady despite the shifting mud, raised his gun at Starscream.

The seething rage within him ignited and Starscream opened fire. Despite his immense size, Skyfire dodged, nearly trampling a terrified Rumble. Starscream didn’t let up, even as Skyfire took aim and forced him to launch off the ground to avoid the blast. Transforming into jet mode, he streaked through the air, null rays zeroed in on Skyfire’s bulky frame.

Skyfire fired off a few more shots, forcing Starscream to alter his course. His flight took him close to the other battling Autobots and Decepticons. Ironhide fired a few bolts at him and Starscream hurried to avoid the crossfire of his and Skyfire’s weapons. The distraction infuriated him and Starscream took a moment to fire on the red Autobot. Suitably cowed, Ironhide returned to his tussle with Rumble, leaving Starscream to focus every bit of his ire on the white mech firing on him from afar.

Their battle grew removed from that of the others. With each attack, they drew further away, further toward the edge. Starscream didn’t care. He refused to be beaten by this mountain or the wind and rain that assaulted him. He wanted Skyfire dead. That was all that mattered.

He streaked through the air. He was close now. Skyfire stood no chance. Sudden giddiness grabbed hold of Starscream as he imagined Skyfire offline at his feet. The traitor would die a traitor’s death; there would be no mercy.

But Starscream’s perceived victory was short-lived. Before he could even slow down, Skyfire dove forward, managing to come up under him. A servo closed around his wing and Starscream shrieked as Skyfire swung him into the ground. He landed painfully and it took a moment for him to recover enough to shift back to root mode. When he did, Skyfire stood over him, gun leveled at his face.

All was quiet, as if the increasing downpour had muted the world. The wind that howled so relentlessly before had petered out. The battle raging behind them was a distant nuisance, almost inconsequential. For all Starscream cared, the world consisted of only him, Skyfire, and the gun between them. The shaking gun.

Starscream’s gaze flicked to meet Skyfire’s. Those blue eyes stared back with a wavering resolve. For a moment that seemed to stretch across millions of years, neither made a move.

The wind sprang back to life, the distant battle drew nearer, and Skyfire still hadn’t fired. What are you waiting for? Starscream wanted to shout, Finish it!

But Skyfire didn’t, and this, more than anything, sent a surge of loathing through Starscream’s system. It fueled his null ray as he raised it in one deft movement.

Skyfire had no time to react. The force of the blast sent him careening back, his feet slipping in the mud, gun falling from his slack hand. There was no time for him to regain his balance.

Starscream watched him fall over the edge. He didn’t react for a few long moments after. All he could do was stare at the space Skyfire had occupied.

He’s gone, Something within Starscream’s spark shrank in on itself, I can’t see him.

His processor fixated on that one thought. I can’t see him. I can’t see him!

He stumbled forward, a desperate cry escaping him.

“SKYFIRE!!!”

Past

Not even the relentless gale could slow Starscream’s descent. He tore through the air, the wind shrieking as if in protest, his limbs flailing uselessly. He knew he needed to transform; if he didn’t, he’d be nothing but a mound of smashed metal and circuitry. As the image flashed in his mind, he couldn’t help but envision a similar corpse, this one much larger and a stark white against the dark landscape.

Starscream quashed the thought as soon as it arose. Skyfire wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. Those were two differing thoughts, Starscream knew, but his processor couldn’t help but bounce between them. He’s not dead, because if he is then...There was no conclusion that Starscream dared consider, so he focused his processor, attempting to ignore the threat of his imminent demise.

He felt his transformation cog whir to life, though the transformation was made clumsy by the unconventional circumstances. The mess of green below drew nearer, serving as an unnecessary reminder that he needed to pull up fast.

Acting purely on instinct, his engines rocketed him forward. He felt leaves skim his wings as he struggled to pull upward, making for the murky grey of the clouds above. The wind was a constant assailant that threatened to dash him into the trees or the mountainside. Lightning split open the sky over and over, closer and closer.

Was that what happened? Had Skyfire been hit by a stray lightning bolt? The concept forced Starscream to tax his engines harder than he ever had. With a burst of speed, he shot upward, letting the trees be swallowed by the mist once more. Again, he extended his sensors and cursed his lack of visibility.

“SKYFIRE!!!”

No response. Starscream knew he wasn’t thinking straight as he veered closer to the mountain, seeking any hint that Skyfire may have crashed. His wing clipped a jutting boulder and he nearly smashed into the cliff face himself as he went careening off course. He was forced to climb higher in a desperate attempt not to meet with the rocks below.

Where is he? He couldn’t think. Couldn’t see, Where is he?!

Something glittered nearby, almost like…

Metal. Starscream threw himself forward, heedless of the risk, “Skyfire!!!”

The wind pulled at his wings, trying to drag him down. The noise was cacophonous, forcing his engines to roar all the louder. He would not be bested. He was so close…

The glittering material suddenly sharpened into focus. The hope glittering just as brightly within him dimmed.

In the faint light shimmered the very reason for this accursed mission. The energy crystals. No sign of Skyfire.

Starscream’s spark sank. He was sure it would drop right out of his fuselage and shatter on the jagged rocks far below. Maybe another spark was already waiting for it.

Thunder continued to growl overhead. Lightning tore through the darkness and illuminated the entire cliff side in brilliant white. An instinctive part of Starscream knew what was coming, but there was no time to react. He could only stare as the lightning zigzagged down and struck the shimmering rocks.

The crystals exploded. Shards smashed open Starscream’s cockpit and embedded themselves in his battered frame. He may have screamed, but he couldn’t hear it. Stabbing pain coursed through his entire being. It overwhelmed him, so much so that he didn’t realize he was falling until he smashed into a jutting, sloped cliff. The impact jarred loose a faint recollection.

Those crystals are brimming with unstable energy! We shouldn’t get too-

Skyfire had warned him. He’d warned him about everything, and what had Starscream said? Honestly, Skyfire, you can be so cowardly sometimes.

He felt himself sliding slowly toward the edge. Desperately, he forced himself to transform. His cockpit grated over the rocky terrain and another dizzying bout of agony washed over him. He could hear his scream this time.

Legs dangling into nothingness, Starscream sought for something to grab onto. His servos dug into the mud, clutching at nothing but loose pebbles. The cliff was too unstable and his body too heavy. The inevitable outcome to his struggles became alarmingly clear.

I’m going to fall, he stilled and felt himself slip further, I’m going to die.

There would be no saving himself this time; he’d smash to pieces on the rocks below before his taxed transformation cog could even come online. His vision flickered as his cockpit continued to grind over the rocks, bringing him ever closer to his doom. All Starscream could manage now was a faint whimper, his screams spent.

He knew he deserved this; it was his fault that he and Skyfire had been caught up in this Primusforsaken storm on this Primusforsaken planet. His fault that Skyfire was likely a shattered corpse on the mountain side. Still, as he began his final descent, a voice - a shameful voice that refused to be quieted no matter how much he tried - shrieked in his head, clamoring to be heard above all else.

I don’t want to die!

Terror seized his spark, shocking his limbs into one last, frantic attempt at salvation. It was futile.

I DON’T WANT TO DIE!

He fell. Opening his mouth, he let out a final, broken scream.

“Skyfire!!!”

“I’ve got you!”

As suddenly as the fall had begun, it stopped. His arm pulled taught and lances of pain pierced through it and his cockpit. The world disappeared, sapped of everything but a cold blackness. After countless moments, warmth and color seeped back in, as a familiar voice, the one that had called to him, spoke again. It was insistent, desperate, as were the arms clasping his limp form. Starscream’s optics fritzed a bit before coming back online. He was in some kind of cave. He could see the deep grey of the sky just beyond and feel the wind and rain graze his wing. It was all remote though. He was more aware of the arms wrapped protectively about him, the feel of someone large and sturdy holding him close. Above all else, he saw brilliant blue optics staring down at him. He watched them soften as a quiet sigh reached his auditory sensors. It was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.

“Thank Primus,” Skyfire breathed, “Starscream, can you hear me?”

Starscream wanted to respond but he couldn’t. All he could do was stare, drinking in the sight of the bot before him. Skyfire was alive. Somehow his mind couldn’t yet process it. He was here. They were together again.

Skyfire’s anxious voice broke in on his thoughts, “It’s okay, Starscream, it’s okay,” It was only then that the smaller jet realized he’d started babbling.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” he gasped, “I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay,” Skyfire repeated, “We’re okay.”

Starscream couldn’t stop, “We almost died! I-I almost killed us!”

“But we’re okay now,” Skyfire replied gently, “I’ve got you.”

He rested a servo on the back of Starscream’s head. The touch snapped Starscream back to his senses and he shoved him away. The movement sent shards of pain through him and he clutched a servo to the mangled cockpit situated over his chest.

“Don’t,” he hissed as Skyfire reached for him. He was still shielded by the cave, but he could feel the wind lap hungrily at his wings as he moved backward.

He stopped - afraid to move any further - and met Skyfire’s worried gaze.

“How...” he began, pausing for a moment to gather his strength, “How can you...This is all my fault! I should have listened to you! Skyfire, I...You could have died because of me.”

“I didn’t.”

“Stop saying that!”

Skyfire regarded him helplessly. Starscream hated it.

“Why aren’t you mad?” he prompted angrily, “You should be furious! You should be...Stop looking at me like that!!!”

He didn’t. “Do you want me to be mad?” Skyfire asked quietly.

Yes...No. “I don’t know!!! Just-” he had to pause before the pain overwhelmed him.

Skyfire moved closer. Starscream told himself not to, but his whole frame ached and trembled and he yearned to be back in Skyfire’s arms, so when Skyfire reached again, the smaller jet could do nothing but melt into him. He cursed his weakness.

“Starscream,” Skyfire’s voice pierced through the turmoil within him. Defeated, Starscream could only listen.

“I’m not angry with you. I don’t think I could ever be angry with you. Don’t ask me why; I don’t know either. What I do know is that I lost you in the storm and assumed the worst, so even though you’re upset, I’d like to just hold you for a while, if that’s okay.”

It was far too easy to comply. Already relaxed against Skyfire, Starscream let himself be pulled closer. The larger jet took special care not to aggravate his injury. It would need to be dealt with, but not now. Right this moment, all Starscream needed was the surety of Skyfire’s arms around him. All his guilt and shame still burned within him, but he couldn’t focus on it if he tried.

They were safe. They were together. That was all that mattered.

“I’ve got you,” Skyfire murmured again, “I’ve always got you.”

Present

The edge of the mountain was shrouded in rain and mist. Even as Starscream dove toward it, he couldn’t be certain he hadn’t flung himself off. His arm extended into nothing. His feet dug into the mud as he felt himself fall forward, just barely managing to snag a jutting rock.

As his entire frame came to a jarring halt, Starscream’s processor seemed to rattle with it. What was he doing? He couldn’t think. The image of Skyfire’s frightened face as he tumbled over the edge was seared into his mind. It was all he could focus on.

I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.

“Skyfire!!!” The call reverberated through Starscream’s spark, splitting it open as forgotten feelings and buried dreams clawed their way out. He couldn’t halt the flood; it washed over him, drowning him in memories.

“Starscream!”

That voice - as it always had - snapped him from the mire of his mind. He peered downward. Just below him, hanging by a crumbling ledge, was Skyfire.

For a moment, it was Starscream hanging for dear life, crying out for rescue. He blinked and the roles reversed again.

As his precarious handhold collapsed beneath his digits, Skyfire desperately tried to bring another servo up to help. He was forced to stop as the movement only made him slip faster. Rain hissed over the place where Starscream had shot him and he grimaced as smoke blended with the mist. He looked up, blue optics shining in the gloom. Starscream nearly lost his grip when they focused on him.

He recognized those optics. They were the very same that used to look at him as if he were the most lovely thing in the universe. Even when they’d explored new, vibrant planets, he’d felt those optics gazing at him with a fondness that made him want to both laugh and scream. He wasn’t sure which he did now, but from the way the blue of Skyfire’s eyes widened with recognition of his own, he figured it was laughter.

“Skyfire…” he reached for him.

Eyes shining, Skyfire’s servo lifted to meet his, “...Starscream?”

His handhold crumbled even more but neither paid any heed. The storm and the clash of Autobots and Decepticons became remote. This time, though, the world didn’t seem to shrink until it was just the two of them. It seemed to grow. Starscream felt a heavy weight in his spark start to lift. His servo reached past millions of years to seek out that familiar yet forgotten touch. He wanted it more than anything, just a hint at what they once were and could be again.

In the faltering light, the insignia affixed to Skyfire’s chest gleamed.

The world shrank. The weight in Starscream’s spark settled back down until he almost felt it would drag him over the edge.

He snatched his hand away just as Skyfire’s digits grazed his own. The touch was like electricity arcing through him. It was tantalizingly, achingly familiar. It promised love and security and everything that had been denied him for millions of years.

It was a convincing lie, but Starscream couldn’t be fooled that easily.

As he stood up slowly, Skyfire’s round, wide, and impossibly blue optics followed him. Starscream wanted to plunge his digits into them until the Autobot started screaming. The flicker of horror he felt at the thought died instantly as Skyfire spoke again.

“Starscream?” he repeated, his voice wavering.

It was his voice, and for the first time in his long, painful life, Starscream was not consoled by it.

“You…” His voice should have been lost to the wind but somehow Skyfire heard and grew deathly silent.

Memories collided within Starscream’s mind. Skyfire holding him, speaking softly to him, laughing with him, exploring with him, rescuing him...

They were all lies. Skyfire betrayed him. Starscream had circled half the globe searching for him, carried the weight of guilt for so long that it had become as familiar as flight, suffered in silence for cycles upon cycles, all for what?

“Starscream,” the Autobot begged, “Please.”

The plea was music to Starscream’s auditory sensors. He let it play, let Skyfire try to sway him again, enjoying every moment of the Autobot’s agony.

Skyfire’s voice grew quiet, “Don’t you remember?”

Starscream hesitated. He did remember. All of it. His fists clenched as his foot stomped downward.

“TRAITOR!!!”

Helpless, Skyfire could only give a strangled cry as Starscream’s foot crunched into his upturned face. The Decepticon watched his enemy fall, his own face lighting up with a terrible grin.

Skyfire barely managed to slow his descent by digging his servos into the muddy cliffside just enough to crash into a protruding ledge. He lay there motionless for countless moments, his recent fall marked by dents in his fuselage and muddy stains dimming his crisp white. He looked broken. Starscream couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this happy.

When Skyfire at last came to, his gaze was unfocused. The clear blue of his eyes were crusted with dirt and likely cracked by the impact of Starscream’s foot. The steady rain did a poor job of washing all the muck from his frame, only succeeding in making it bleed into the remaining white. His optics turned upward and somehow found Starscream in the hazy mist. He almost seemed to know where the other jet was without needing to see.

It was there, atop that war torn peak, that Skyfire first looked upon Starscream with fury. No, not fury. Hate.

“Skyfire!” Optimus Prime’s booming voice echoed across the mountain, “Where are you?”

Starscream turned. The Autobots stood on a field of victory, the remains of the Decepticons’ machine scattered amongst its fallen creators. He scowled and turned to confront his foes, when he felt a sudden whoosh of air blast past him. Looking up, he watched as Skyfire sailed over his head to land heavily on the mountaintop.

Without hesitation, Starscream opened fire, only to hit the dirt when the other Autobots returned it. By the time he tentatively lifted his head, all three Autobots had retreated into Skyfire’s fuselage. NO! Starscream rushed forward, his guns vainly attempting to bring the cargo plane down even though he knew he was out of range.

“NO!” he shrieked into the mist, “COME BACK, YOU COWARD!”

But Skyfire had already been lost to the grey sky, leaving Starscream alone. Again.

He continued to stare at the space where he’d last seen Skyfire, unable to look away. He felt as if he’d been awoken from a cruel dream. It took every bit of his willpower not to scream his agony into the sky above. All he wanted in that moment was to hunt Skyfire down and make him suffer. He wanted to hear his screams of terror as he at last cornered him and slammed him into the dirt, gun pointed right between those too blue optics.

How could you do this? He’d scream, Did any of it matter? Did I matter?

Starscream knew the answer already. He turned to face his forces, who all looked to him for guidance.

“Decepticons, take flight!” Without waiting to see if they followed, Starscream transformed and took to the air. To his dismay, there was no trace of the Autobots. They’d be back, though; they never stayed down.

One of them will, Starscream vowed, That traitor will die by my hand.

The rain continued to pour as three jets - and one passenger cassette - returned to their base, leaving the mountain top to be shrouded in mist once more. All they left of their battle were the remnants of an evil machine and a singular gun that had slipped from a foolish Autobot’s hand.

Epilogue- Past

The flight back to Cybertron felt like it lasted millions of cycles. Crouched in Skyfire’s fuselage, Starscream lamented as much to his partner. Skyfire’s only response was an exasperated yet fond sigh; Starscream could tell he was just glad to hear him speak without wheezing.

The damage to his cockpit was extensive but not life-threatening. After a thorough inspection, Skyfire had determined as much. He’d carefully removed some of the smaller bits of crystal from Starscream’s frame and left the larger ones to be handled by a medic. Starscream had wanted to appear brave, but he hadn’t been able to stifle the quiet whimper that escaped him. Luckily, Skyfire responded by wrapping him up in another hug, which had instantly soothed the smaller jet.

When they at last returned to Cybertron, Skyfire was quick to usher him to a medic. In fact, Starscream’s feet barely touched the ground before Skyfire scooped him up and rushed into the medical facility. The hospital was just one branch of the science center that had been built there. For the most part, the civil unrest that had broken out over Cybertron had not affected the science community. It was only a matter of time, though.

Starscream and Skyfire were meant to report to their superiors in the Scientific Exploration department. After much convincing from Starscream, Skyfire had at last agreed to leave his side and speak with the higher-ups, taking a few samples of crystal with him, also at Starscream’s urging. It was what they’d been sent for, after all; it shouldn’t matter that they’d ended up having to gather it from Starscream’s mangled cockpit.

The procedure to repair his cockpit was fairly long but luckily Starscream was in stasis for most of it. When he awakened and examined himself, he was pleased by the results. He didn’t think he’d ever seen his windows shine quite so brightly. He couldn’t help but hope Skyfire would notice, too.

Skyfire was pacing in the waiting room when he emerged. The moment Skyfire spotted him, he almost seemed to teleport to his side.

“Are you okay? I was worried something had gone wrong.”

“Don’t worry, Skyfire,” Starscream said with a slight smile, “I am the picture of health.”

Skyfire looked him up and down, “You’re certainly...shinier,” he said with a bit of awe.

Starscream beamed internally, “Thank you for noticing.”

The two walked out side by side, arms brushing. Starscream wanted to savor the moment, but his curiosity got the better of him.

“So, what did our bosses have to say?” he asked, barely hiding his disdain. He didn’t like having to report to superiors; he’d rather make his own decisions than comply with someone else’s. Maybe one day…

“The crystals seem promising, though they’ll have to perform further tests,” Skyfire replied, “In the meantime, there’s another planet they want us to investigate right away. It’s uncharted, as of yet. There might not even be intelligent life on the surface, though long distance scans hint to a great energy source.”

Ordinarily, Starscream would have leaped for joy at an assignment such as this, but as he watched Skyfire speak, he couldn’t help but recall how close he’d been to losing him. They were lucky to stand here together at all.

Sensing his hesitation, Skyfire favored Starscream with a concerned frown, “What’s the matter?”

“You know what’s the matter,” Starscream huffed. He didn’t mean to take his anger out on his partner - especially since he was really mad at himself - but it was difficult. Skyfire didn’t respond in kind, though. He never did.

“It’ll be okay, Starscream,” Skyfire reached down to grasp his servo firmly, “So long as we’re together, we’ll be okay.”

And because Skyfire’s voice never failed to console him, Starscream believed what he said. He squeezed his servo back and smiled up into Skyfire’s brilliant blue eyes.

“Together, then.”

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spacetimewraithwrites-archive · 3 years

Text

Fictober ‘21 Prompt No. 1 — “I need you.”

Category: Original WIP: WASTE Rating: T Timeline: Not too long after Guetry has been implanted with Scotty CW: None Word Count: 1,142 Additional Notes: I love exploring the relationship between these two.

***

Guetry stared through the opening of the mine shaft, flat on his back across austere stone. His eyes were not focused on the night sky painted with diamonds and the rich purple of wines made in his vineyard, as it would have appeared to a bystander. His attention was, instead, zeroed in on the small hole in the visor of his helmet, currently sending the HUD into hysterics and draining him of air with each passing second.

“S...Scotty,” he choked.

“You have twenty minutes before asphyxiation,” Scotty said. Matter-of-fact, directly in his ear, as always. Even in the face of fatality. “I cannot seal the breach as my connection to your equipment has been severed.”

Despite the situation, his cadence did somewhat have a soothing effect.

Guetry closed his eyes and reached up to assess the extent of the damage to the helmet. “What do I do?” he asked. His chest heaved under the breastplate of his armor as he attempted to steady his breath and not waste what little oxygen he could get. “What...what do I do? What button, what switch...?”

“I have no connection to your team.” Scotty sputtered violet in the corner of Guetry’s eye. “Other than the automatic distress signal that went out as soon as your visor sustained damage.”

“Shit...shit.” Guetry rolled himself onto his side, scrambling for purchase on solid ground. “Twenty m—twenty minutes. Twenty minutes.”

“There’s been some trauma to your implant as well, as I’m certain you can discern for yourself.”

Guetry’s frantic gaze darted around the shaft, desperate for an escape or something to close the breach before he blacked out. “Scotty...please stop telling me things that are up—upsetting to me.”

“The fall into the mine cracked the back of your helmet open. The damage is permanent.”

“What the hell did I just say,” Guetry wheezed. He yanked the helmet off his head with shaking hands and threw it farther into the mine.

“Are you in pain?”

“I don’t know. I can’t feel most of anything right now.” Guetry took a few sharp breaths. “You gotta keep me going until someone gets here, or until I get out of here, whichever comes first.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

Guetry tried to drag himself closer to the entrance, but his arms had already begun to fail him. “Scotty, I don’t plan on dying today. Keep...keep my brain alive or something. Do literally anything.”

“My designation doesn’t work in that way. I can’t sustain you when there isn’t sufficient oxygen.” Scotty paused as Guetry gave up in the center of the opening and collapsed onto his stomach. “I also don’t think I made myself clear. I’m unable to access life support.”

Guetry went still. “Do something.”

“Guetry—”

“I need you. Please.”

Scotty once again fell silent. “I will attempt to contact your team again.”

With strength he was surprised he had at the moment, Guetry pushed himself onto his back. “Hey, if I...” He broke out into a hacking cough as his lungs strained to sap oxygen out of the air. “If I don’t make it, send my sisters...and my dad a message.”

“When I am tethered to you, the event of your death will permanently deactivate me.”

Nodding, Guetry swallowed. He opened the front pouch of his supply kit and withdrew a flare. “Tell my sisters and my dad that I love you.”

“You love...them?”

Guetry ripped the packaging of the flare open with his teeth, the edges of his vision turning black. He took a couple shallow breaths. “Yeah. We can pretend that’s what I meant.”

He raised the flare and fired it straight through the opening of the mine. A single flash of red light exploded upward, carried a bit by the gaseous wind of the planet’s surface before disappearing into the sky.

“Think they saw it?” Guetry asked weakly, hand dropping onto his chest.

Scotty didn’t answer.

Guetry's eyes grew heavy. “Don’t...don’t give up on me. Not now.”

“I could say the same.”

“Say it, then.”

“Don’t give up on me, Guetry.”

Guetry watched a dark blur move over the mine entrance. The words echoed in his mind repeatedly until he was no longer conscious.

---

He awoke again in a bed, clocking before he even opened his eyes that he was in a med fac somewhere. He’d been in enough of them to pinpoint them by smell alone.

Dazia’s tired face turned to him from her spot in the chair across the room. “Morning, sleepyhead.”

“Oh, shit,” Guetry groaned, bringing a ginger touch to his forehead as a headache slammed into him with the force of a meteor.

“Good to see you, too, jackass.”

“Did you pull me out of that mine?” Guetry peeked at her through his fingers, avoiding the harsh light.

Dazia nodded. “Yep. Your little stunt sent Tux into a panic spiral so I had to pick up the slack.”

“It did not,” the nuaclan said from the other side of the room.

Guetry laughed even though it hurt his throat. “The only thing that would send Tux into a panic spiral is if someone took so long to get rid of my body that it implicated her.” He turned to look at her with a grin. “Ain’t that right, baby girl?”

Tux rolled her eyes, but the smirk stretching across her wide face said enough. “Idiot.”

“They had to take Scotty for a bit,” Dazia said. “It won’t be for much longer. NodeSource fixed your implant—they’re just running diagnostics to make sure everything’s square.”

“Okay. That explains the migraine.” Guetry nodded, a hand coming up to his temple on instinct. His fingers knocked into the cable leading out of his port and into a terminal next to his bed, likely operating to take over a fraction of what Scotty maintained. “He deserves a wellness check.”

When they were united later, after his doctor and a NodeSource technician made sure everything functioned normally and after Guetry had started a game of solitaire on his bed, he sighed into the empty room, eyes following the cable attaching him to the computer.

“Is everything alright?” Scotty asked.

“Yeah, man.” Guetry sniffed. He turned a card over. “Just...hope you don’t make a habit out of scaring me.”

He detected a hint of hesitation. “I won’t.”

“...I guess I owe you an apology, too.”

“Not for doing your job, you don’t.”

Guetry cracked a small smile. “I could say the same.”

“Then say so.”

He glanced through the two-way viewscreen affording him a look out into the hospital corridor while granting him privacy. Doctors, nurses, and patients milled about, some in more of a hurry than others.

“I’ll do my best not to worry you too much,” he finally said.

“Worry is not within my programming.”

“Nah.” Guetry’s smile widened. “Don’t buy it.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while.

#these are all going to be rushed lol #so don't expect quality here #fictober21 #WASTE

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peterthepark · 5 years

Text

Cold as Ice

Billy Hargrove x Reader

Summary: Billy just doesn’t understand why you’re so cold to him. He becomes desperate to warm you up. But, the killer heat of Hawkins combined with a stupid school project gives him the chance to know what’s truly underneath all that ice.

Warnings: cursing, smut, sExUal tenSion, some angst, some fluff, LOTS OF SIN

A/N: Definitely my filthiest fic at the moment, enjoy!

“You’re my partner.”

You look up from the register, hands on your hips as you stare at Billy Hargrove with a blank, unamused expression. There are a few people behind him, arms crossed against their chests - Tommy, Carol, and some other bimbo.

Funnily, you realize that they all resemble a group of poodles.

Cute.

Billy raises his eyebrows at you, smacking his gum as he impatiently awaits for a response. You glance at the folder that he slaps down onto the counter, knowing exactly what it contains.

“Hm, didn’t think you guys were recruiting for the next douchebag of Hawkins High. Are these the applications?” You finally pick up the folder, skimming through the thick pages of paper with a toothy smirk. “To be honest, I consider myself more of a bitch than a douchebag. Isn’t that right, Harrington?”

You chuckle devilishly as you hand Steve a couple dollars, who snickers at the interaction. Billy seems confused, but by the way he clenches his jaw and barely blinks, you can tell you’ve also hit a spot.

“Looks like I’ve won the bet, Y/N. Fuck, yeah! Robin! I told you I would win!” Steve runs into the back room of Scoops Ahoy, waving the dollar bills at his friend.

You turn back to Billy, re-adjusting the hat on your head. “Now, can I get you something, pool boy?” You lean over, hands splayed onto the cool marble of the counter.

“Did you not pick up on what I just said? I’m asking you to be my partner for the project. No, I’m picking you to be my partner.” Billy tries to keep a steady voice, but you easily catch the deep breath he takes between his words. His ‘friends’ are whispering behind him, exchanging dirty looks.

“Well, I’m actually not allowed to have personal conversations with customers right now,” Billy scoffs, tugging his lip between his teeth. “And so, if you aren’t ordering ice cream, then be my guest, and leave. I’ve got a few angry customers to deal with if you can’t tell.” He follows your pointed gaze, and surely enough, the line behind him is fairly long - filled with crying kids and irritated parents. “Come back later? Or never at all?”

Billy groans, pacing in short steps. He knows you’ll come around. They always come around.

You truly are a bitch.

Yet, somehow, Billy waits till the end of your shift to speak with you - hopefully in a more private spot and in a less aggressive manner.

You roll your eyes when you see him, sitting by the table nearest to the register. He seems to be alone, yet it annoys you even more.

“I don’t wanna be your partner, Hargrove. Is that not clear?” Your eyes follow him as he stands up. He’s much taller than you, so you can only send him an intimidating glare in hopes of scaring him away. “Pick someone else. And let me give you a hint - it’s not me.”

Billy inhales deeply, before a small smile forms on his face. He grabs your arm before you can walk away, hoping that he can win you over with his charm. But he knows he has to put away his pride to do so.

“Sweetheart, I really need help with this project. You’re the smartest girl in our class, and if you can’t tell, I hang around a bunch of dumbasses.”

Oh, so this is why he was alone. So he could talk crap about his shitty friends.

Billy continues, smile never wavering. He still has his hand wrapped around your arm, holding you in place as he speaks by your ear. “And anyways, it’s already set in stone. I asked Mrs. Johnson if I could pair up with you. She thought it was a great idea. Guess we’re in this together now, huh?”

He harshly pushes the folder of papers into your chest, letting go of your arm.

“What? You can’t do that!”

But he certainly did do that. Because when you storm into Mrs. Johnson’s classroom on one Monday morning, she’s rambling over how excited she is to have you and Billy working together.

“But Mrs. Johnson, I never agreed to this. How is this fair?” You whine, waving the folder around with wide eyes.

“Miss Y/N, you’ll be doing Billy a huge favor by helping him. He isn’t failing, but he is struggling. He could most definitely use your help.”

Despite all the complaining, Mrs. Johnson doesn’t allow you to pick anyone else. To her convenience, you and Billy are the only ones who haven’t had a designated partner - and now, you really don’t have a choice.

The next week, Billy is back in Scoops Ahoy. He can see your snarl from the other side of the mall. He’s got you trapped in cage, and he knows you’re having a hard time trying to adapt to it.

“I knew that he’d pick you.” Steve says through a mouthful of banana, hitting you in the face with its peel. “I mean, you’re the only girl - besides Robin - who hasn’t given into him. He’s probably just trying to cross off your name on his list.”

“He has a list?” You gag dramatically, protesting as Robin pushes you jokingly.

“Dude, Y/N, he’s literally coming over here.” She points at Billy, who actually is coming over.

“I don’t care. Change spots with me. Steve! Robin!” You shout, pulling at the ends of your hair as they run into the back room, locking the door behind them. “Screw you both!”

You turn around, meeting eyes with the damned Billy Hargrove. You fake a smile. If this was a cartoon, steam would certainly be coming out from your ears.

“Bad day?” Billy pouts mockingly at you. His hands rest inside the pockets of his jeans, eyes looking over your angry state. “Should I come back or....”

“Actually, no. But you know what?” You slide yourself over the counter, brushing away at the lint that has accumulated on your blue shorts. “I’m not doing this stupid project alone. You’re staying here till my shift is over. And when it is, you’re gonna drive your ass to my house, where the both of us can work on it. Together. Happy now, douchebag?”

Your breath is almost minty, and somehow feels cool against Billy’s skin. He steps back with a cocky grin, raising his hands as if he were surrending to you.

But he wasn’t surrendering.

“You just gave Team Hargrove one point. But Team Y/L/N? Zero.” Billy snaps with a flash of his pearly whites. He crouches down to your height, hands resting on his thighs. He knows that he is pissing you off. “I’ll see you when you’re done.” Then, you cross your arms at him, nose pointing up as he stands to full height. His eyes flicker down to your lips. “And honestly? I think I’m more of a dick than a douchebag.”

You want to slap the stupid grin of his face. But you don’t. You don’t know the real reason behind it, but you try to convince yourself as to why.

Because it’s against company policy?

Steve and Robin poke their heads out of the other room, coming out when Billy cockily walks away from you. You’re still standing there, eyes narrowed and face drawn into a look of displeasure.

“Should we not bother her?” Steve whispers, elbowing Robin. “I kinda don’t wanna get yelled at right now.”

“No, no, Steve. She’s hotter when she’s angry. Trust me.”

“Guys!” You scoff at them. She laughs at the sudden smile on your face, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“I mean, she’s not wrong, Y/N.” Steve shrugs before taking your place at the register. “You’re pretty hot, I guess.”

“Oh, stop it, Harrington. I’m out of your league.” You wink at him, hopping back over the counter.

You let out an exasperated breath when Robin tells you to sort out the shipments in the back. You push the back door open, groaning audibly when you see the tall stack of cardboard boxes. There’s a clipboard on the table in the middle of the room, and you read over it lazily before you begin to sort through the deliveries.

No one really knows why you despise Billy. Not Steve, not Robin, not anyone. It seems as if you had woke up, saw him, and decided that he was someone you disliked.

That was partly true.

But in detail, you did dislike - or hate, whichever was fitting based on your mood - Billy for a few things.

You never understood his sudden popularity, or the sex appeal he carried along with him. You never understood the hair, the smoking, the people he hung around, or the recklessness and the partying.

You just didn’t get it. You didn’t get why people would waste their time around him, when clearly, he wasn’t grateful for any of it.

Maybe your hatred of him spiraled from insecurity.

He had everything. He was popular and easy on the eyes. He was charming and fun. You’d never admit it out loud, but he truly seemed like a good guy, underneath that whole douchebag act of his.

You were nothing alike. Or so you thought.

“Honey! There’s someone here for you!” Your mother calls out from the bottom of the stairs, a slight smirk on her face when she realizes how handsome your guest is. You come barreling down the stairs, feet heavy and frowning deeply when you see who’s sitting on the sofa.

“Billy.”

“Y/N!” He comes to meet you, pulling you into an embrace. Your reaction is one of utter shock, because suddenly, all you can smell is expensive cologne and the faint scent of cigarettes. “Your mother was just asking me if we wanted to join her for lunch.”

“Oh. Uh, thank you, but we have to work on a project, Mom.” You send Billy a look, clearing your throat when you see his lips twitch upwards. “We’ll be upstairs.”

Your mom disappears into the living room, giving you both a second glance and a knowing look as you jog up the stairs.

“How do you know where I live?”

“That little girl from the mall? I think she’s Sinclair’s sister. Bought her some ice cream when I saw it fall, she just returned the favor.”

Erica. Damn it.

“Okay, well, I didn’t think you’d be here so soon.” You complain, running your hands through your hair, damp from a shower. Billy follows you into your bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He takes in the sight, something he wouldn’t expect from someone like you. There are various posters plastered onto your soft pink walls - band posters, movie posters, and he huffs at the one of a shirtless man. There’s a record player on top of your bookcase, where you stand, occupied as you flip through your vinyls. “What’s your cup of tea? Queen? The Beatles? Metallica? Foreigner?”

“I really don’t care.” He scoffs, licking his lips as he takes a seat on your bed.

Foreigner it is, then.

“And I really don’t want you on my bed. Get off, Hargrove.” You throw a paper ball at him, hiding the smile on your face when he doesn’t dodge it in time. “Thought you played basketball. What happened to those reflexes?”

With a dramatic eye roll, Billy tosses the ball into the trash, sliding off of the bed and onto the floor instead. You grab the project folder from your study table, sitting down across from him. You’re reading through the directions when Billy starts to light a cigarette.

And you gasp - really loud. “Billy! No! None of that in here.” You take the cigarette from his lips, his coughs fading in the background as you throw it out your window. “Are you crazy?”

“I just wanted a smoke!”

“Yeah?! Then not in here!” You shake your head at him, handing him a sheet of paper as you calm down. “Your turn to read, asshole.”

Your head begins to become fuzzy as Billy’s fingers brush against yours when he grabs the paper.

He reads, voice soft and surprisingly enthusiastic - if he didn’t act like such a dumbass, you’d think he was somewhat intelligent.

(However, you know he is intelligent - somewhere in that douchebag brain of his - though, that’s one of the things you could never admit to anyone).

The room is suddenly blazing hot, uncomfortably warm despite the numerous open windows. The air conditioning isn’t enough, and you’re silently cursing as you feel sweat build up among your skin. You’re fanning yourself, swallowing as you notice the bead of sweat that rolls down the side of Billy’s forehead.

“God damn, it’s hot.” Billy curses, unable to continue reading with how tight his chest feels. He tugs at the collar of his shirt, hoping he could get some sort of air.

“Our air conditioning sucks.” You push your hair back, “Summer’s coming.”

Billy nods in agreement, picking up from where he had left off.

Maybe it’s just the heat, but suddenly, you start to space out.

Your eyes focus on the rise and fall of Billy’s tan chest, how his skin glows with sweat, and how his muscles flex under that shirt of his.

Oh, wow.

“Y/N? Did you hear me?” You snap out of your trance. “Hope you haven’t passed out.” He sets the paper down, leaning back against your bed frame.

“Huh? Sorry, I - I was distracted.”

Don’t let your guard down.

“I was asking which part you wanted to do.”

“Uh, whichever one is the hardest. I can take it.”

And Billy stops breathing. Maybe because there’s some sort of - sexual - euphemism in that sentence, but also because he’s noticing how flushed you look: cheeks red, skin glistening, breaths heavy. Your hair sticks to your arms, resting on the tops of your knees. But then, he sees this look in your eyes.

It’s not the normal glare he gets. But your eyes are softer, less intense, more - was that longing?

You’re just staring at him, lips slightly parted as your eyes quickly drop down to the floor.

“Unless, um, you want the harder part then you can have it, I guess.” You pipe up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You’re avoiding his gaze, and Billy isn’t sure that he recognizes this Y/N.

Did he win you over yet? That easily?

“Here, you can look over it with me again.” Billy scoots beside you, his denim-clad thigh pressed up against your bare one. His breaths are even, blowing over your hands as you hold up the paper. “I was thinking I could do the research on the biographical context and symbolism, and...” He glances over to you, eyes trailing over the expanse of your neck. Your jaw is tightly clenched, but you don’t meet his stare. “... and then, maybe you could do the overall analysis. Or we could do it differently, if this way doesn’t meet your standards, princess.” His voice is low, a sultry tone laced subtly in his words. He peeks his tongue out to lick his lips, and you look over at that exact moment.

Aw, shit. You wouldn’t give up that easily, would you?

He’s not the only one that can play this game.

“No, I like your idea. We can do that.” You turn to him, hair slightly hitting him in the face. You pucker your bottom lip slightly, rolling it between your teeth as you pass him the paper back.

“Is it getting hot in here?”

Not this line.

“Nope, just you.” You let out a sharp exhale, reading over more of the project.

“Whew. I gotta take off my shirt.”

“Excuse me?” Your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull, causing you to drop your pencil. But it’s too late once Billy is pulling his shirt over his head. “Hey!”

Though, he wears a tank top underneath.

And honestly, you’re kind of disappointed.

Wait, what?

He hurls the shirt towards your bed, running his hands through his messy curls. His arms look even bigger, and you can see the faint outline of his abs through the thin, white material. You catch the tattoo on his upper bicep, and you have to put a hand to your mouth from saying anything - now this was ruining you.

Don’t give in.

“Like what you see, Y/L/N?” He flexes his arms in a subtle manner, biting down harshly on his lip. He grunts as he leans over to pick up your pencil, handing it to you. “Didn’t mean to make you drop this.”

Yeah. Apology accepted. Jerk.

“If this is your way of seducing me, it isn’t working.” You cross your ankles over each other, shaking your head at Billy.

He laughs, running his hand through his hair. “And why would I want to seduce you, Y/N?”

The question does sting, but it doesn’t change the fact that his face is literally inches away from yours.

You aren’t done playing the game.

“Oh, I don’t know, Billy. Maybe because I’m the only girl on that - that list of yours that you haven’t yet crossed out? Or is it because you’ve fucked all the pretty girls at school and you’ve finally come to the realization that you’d rather fuck someone with a bit of brains?”

Billy hums with a slow, antagonistic nod, tongue poking out from the corner of his lips. He abruptly stands up, turning up the volume on your record player. He’s dancing. But the bitter look on his face is all you can focus on. You stand up as well, pouting as you lower the volume of the music. It’s a back and forth between you, Billy, and the music.

“The problem with pretty girls, Y/N...” He starts between breaths, still dancing as you stand ahead of him - not happy. “... is that they can’t tell when a guy is no longer interested in them. They got the looks, but no brain.” He chuckles, parting his lips as he taps the side of his head. “And the girls that do have brains? They also got a problem. They’re smart, sure, but they just don’t know when to quit being a bitch.”

That’s when he turns up the music to full volume, hooting in your face as he dances even more.

This was Billy Hargrove at his finest.

“We’re never gonna get this project done if you keep thinking with your dick instead of your head, asshole.” You almost growl. You’re fuming now.

He really knows how to piss a girl off, huh?

“You ever had a boyfriend, Y/N?”

No. Never.

“Yeah, I have. Why?” You gulp, pushing past Billy. You sit down on your bed, continuing on writing your analysis for the project.

“What was his name?”

“Uh - It was - It’s Steve.”

What are you doing?

“You dated Harrington? King Steve?” He slowly stops dancing, panting loudly as he looks down at you.

“Dating him, actually.”

Oh, God.

“Huh. You ever had sex with him?”

“Hargrove, this is getting a little personal.” You chuckle nervously.

“Is that a... no?” He crouches down in front of you, eyes blinking at you. He’s catching on. Surely, you weren’t this good of a liar. “I’ll take that as a no. Must suck, yeah? Harrington doesn’t know how to handle a woman like you. Poor Y/N. You just want a little lovin’ from King Steve...”

His thumb hooks itself under your chin.

And his blue eyes are almost hypnotizing.

“Are you really dating Steve Harrington? ‘Cause you seem a lot out of his league. You’re not even in the ballpark, baby.”

His big hand cups your jaw, fingers rubbing against your skin. Somehow, his hands are freezing - despite the hundred degree weather.

“I have a... boyfriend.”

Billy knows you’re lying now.

“Why are you so cold to me, Y/N?” His eyes are fixed on your lips, flickering up to you when you speak.

“I don’t know. Why are you such a douchebag?”

“Sure. I’m a dick, but you - you’re somethin’ else. You are mean. Steve seems a little soft for someone as headstrong as you.” He shrugs animatedly, “Maybe you’re looking for a - a... thrill.”

“What do you want from me?” You scoff at him.

“I think I know why you hate me.” You hold your breath as he continues, “We’re more alike than you think we are.”

“Yeah? I’d like to hear it, then.”

Deathmatch.

“We both crave something more. Most people go after someone with a little... heat to their name, but us? We thrive in the cold.”

“You’re wrong.” You shake your head at him.

“Then why am I still touching you?” He stands, hands leaving your jaw.

No, come back.

“Billy, this - this isn’t-“

“Surely, your boyfriend wouldn’t like the way I was touching you, wouldn’t he? What’s Steve gonna do if he finds out? Fight me?”

“Steve’s not my boyfriend! Fine! You win!” You explode, rising to your feet.

And it all comes rushing back to you.

You both really are alike.

“You see it now, don’t you? All this competing, this - this fighting, we clash because we’re the same. And it scares you. Because who would’ve thought you had something in common with the douchebag from school, huh?”

He takes a step closer to you. And you do the same to him.

“Smart girls need attention, too.” He says softly, leaning in to whisper at your ear. “But you... you’ve been looking for someone who’s as cold as you. And I respect that, Y/N.”

You make the mistake of locking eyes with him when he pulls back.

“I’m way out of Steve’s league.”

You look down at his plump lips, glancing at how his neck bobs when he pushes your hair behind your shoulder.

There’s an unfamiliar feeling that sparks in your chest when Billy’s fingers trail past your collarbone.

“Can I kiss you now? Because all this tension might give me high blood pressure.” He smirks at you.

You don’t reply.

But you do lean forward, on the tips of your toes, mashing your lips against Billy’s. Your hands are cool against his shimmering skin.

The kiss isn’t sweet, but fueled with fire and pent-up anger. Billy is fast enough to show you that he really wants you, but at the same time, he’s slow, wanting to prove to you that you aren’t just another name on his so-called ‘list.’

You don’t give a shit about winning anymore.

Stubble tickles your cheeks as Billy moves to kiss your neck.

“This doesn’t... this doesn’t change the fact that I still hate you...” You breathe raggedly, screwing your eyes shut at how his mouth feels on your neck.

He tugs at the straps of your tank top, pulling it over your head as he hoists you up into his arms. Your legs wrap around his hips, and you can feel the tightness form in his jeans.

“God, you’ve been such a bitch to me for the past week.” He moans into your skin, pressing you up against your bedroom door as he uses one hand to hold you, and the other to unclasp your bra. You let out a choked moan, only for Billy to place his hand over your mouth. “Don’t forget that your mama is downstairs. What would she think if she saw me doing this to her daughter?”

You bite at his hand, smiling as he groans pleasurably at the sensation.

He’s so rough, but you’re enjoying it.

Billy swivels on the heels of his shoes, laying you down onto your bed as he kisses down your torso. His saliva sticks to your skin, and he chuckles when he watches you arch your back into him. Your hand reaches for his, and he doesn’t pull away - despite how intimate the action is for him.

Billy Hargrove doesn’t hold hands with flings.

That’s how he really knows you aren’t one of them.

“B-Billy...” You gasp as his lips pass over your breasts, his hands cupping and kneading them softly.

He reaches up to kiss you again, whispering, “This isn’t your first time, right?”

You shake your head, “No, no.”

“Okay.” He nods with a grin, taking off his top. “But no one is ever gonna make you feel this good.”

He groans as you crawl to the edge of the bed, playing with him through his jeans. You glance up at him innocently, his fingers card through your hair. You leave short kisses on his abs, slowly making your way up to his neck. You suck and lick at it, surely leaving a prominent mark there. He pulls out his belt, flinging it onto the floor as you unbutton his jeans for him.

He licks his lips, pushing you back down onto the bed. You scoot over, making room for him as he takes off your shorts. You chuckle when he moans at the sight of lace.

“Didn’t know you were wearing those.” He says, obviously surprised as he wraps his fingers around the waistband, letting it snap against your skin. You gasp, letting his hands wander over your back.

“Just be glad I’m letting you see them.”

He flips you over so that you’re on your knees, ass in his face as he pulls the lace panties past your ankles.

You bite back a loud moan. His face and his mouth is down there and you swear you’ve entered heaven itself.

Hell was too hot for the both of you, anyways.

He hums against you, the vibrations nearly sending you over the edge as he toys with you in places you didn’t even know existed. He pulls away, causing you to whimper.

But as you look back at him, the sight is enough to make you cum. His boxers are nowhere to be seen, and instead, he’s touching himself, grinning as he sees the dumbfounded expression on your face.

“You’re okay with this?” He asks, furrowing his eyebrows. You’re shaking your head. “I need to hear it out loud.” He kisses your lower back, hands caressing your ass.

“Yes. Please.”

“Condom?”

You wink, rubbing yourself against him. “On the pill.”

Billy lets out a moan, chuckling. “Mm, that’s my girl.”

You hold back a breath as he pushes himself into you. He’s huge, and it stings with how much he’s stretching you out. You let out a sob of pleasure, hand coming to touch Billy’s upper thigh.

“Slow?” He asks, voice gruff as he bottoms out. You’re sure that he’s as deep as possible, but part of you longs for him to go even deeper.

“No, fast.”

Billy pulls out, only to slam back in. His movements are quick, hips thrusting at a rapid pace. You’re moaning, falling into the mattress with how good he feels inside you.

“Holy fuck!” He grunts as he leans over you, hand coming to rest by your face. He outstretches his fingers, and you take his hand into yours. “Y/N...”

“We have to - to be quiet...” You moan once more, throwing your head back as his arm wraps around your stomach, pulling you closer to him.

He pounds into you, grunting as silently as possible. You can feel the heat radiating off of him.

“Good girl, such a good girl for me.” He cries out, taking a fistful of your hair. You yelp out of surprise when he gently pulls you back.

You liked that.

“D-do that again.” You stutter, mumbling incoherent words when he repeats the action.

The record player still plays music.

And you’re so grateful that it’s loud enough to silence the filthy sounds between you and Billy.

Thank God for that.

But this... this was a whole new level of sinful.

Billy brings a hand to touch your throat. And you nod in approval, shutting your eyes when you feel the pads of his fingers tighten around your airway. He’s still soft and cautious, but the way he was fucking you was enough to send you into overdrive.

Your hand comes up from the bed, jaw hanging open in utter bliss as you flex your fingers. “I’m gonna cum. Billy, holy, I-“

“C’mon, baby.” Thrust. “I’m right there...” Thrust. “...With you.”

You’re cumming.

Your legs are shaking and you feel the wave of heat fall over your body like a spell. Billy follows shortly, groaning sinfully as he buried himself inside you. He pulls out, pumping himself as he lets himself go onto your body. You feel the warm drops of his cum drizzle across your back and over your ass, trickling down your thighs and between your legs before you fall onto the bed.

“Oh, my god.” You sigh, curling up. Billy falls beside you, eyes studying your features for any sign of pain or sadness.

“Was that okay?”

“I just had sex with Billy Hargrove. Oh, my-“ Your hand comes up to massage your temples.

He chuckles.

“And I just had sex with you, so I guess we’re pretty even.” He states, kissing your neck one last time.

He’ll give it to you.

You both win.

But who said that the game would be over?

“Here’s the project, Mrs. Johnson.” You smile respectfully, exchanging glances with Billy as you hand her the folder. Her eyes bounce from you both, hands sorting through the papers of the project.

“This looks good.” She nods, eyebrows raised when she finds the part that Billy had worked on. “Wow, Y/N must’ve been a great help to you, Billy.”

“Yeah. She helped me a lot.”

Billy links his pinky with yours under the table, where your thigh rests against his. His fingers come to toy with the hem of your skirt, and his touch: cold.

“Well, I might say that this project deserves an A. It looks very well-planned and thought out.” She takes off her reading glasses, placing them carefully on her desk as she re-organizes your papers. “How would you feel about an extra credit project, Billy? Just to boost your grade a little more before the year ends?”

You and Billy share a knowing grin.

It’s wicked.

It’s spiteful.

It’s cold as ice.

But there’s an inextinguishable heat that lingers between the two of you.

“As long as Miss Y/N can be of help to me.” He flashes a charming smile, hands coming up to rest on the wooden desk.

“Of course, Mr. Hargrove.”

You shut the door of the classroom behind you, following Billy into the bustling hallway towards the cafeteria.

He turns to you and winks as he rounds the corner, denim jacket slung over his shoulder.

“See you later, partner.”

“Later, douchebag.”

Oh, how you loved the cold.

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twstdreams · 4 years

Note

hello i loved the sabotaged flying and catching s/o post you did! if you don’t mind could you do a part 2? same situation except with characters ruggie, leech twins, jack, and a character of your choice plz? you don’t have to do it! but if you do it’ll be much appreciated:) have a nice day!

Previous request: (for context) During flying class someone jinxes their crush’s broom and sends them free-falling but just before they hit the ground the boys rescue them. To show their gratitude, their crush gives them an innocent peck on the cheek afterwards (oblivious to their feelings) before leaving

Heroes, Villains, and the soft spot in between pt. 2

Floyd Leech

At first, Floyd is envious. Your flying looks like so much fun with all of the spontaneous ups and downs and spirals, maybe he’ll do the same when it’s his turn

Yeah, you’re screaming but maybe it’s from exhilaration? Like when you’re on a rollercoaster and filled with excitement

He realizes your screams are due to terror when you start free falling at a speed that can’t be safe while you wildly thrash in the air

Floyd scrambles to catch you in his arms, magic softens the blow, but the two of you are sent tumbling from the impact. You end up as a pile of entangled limbs with him below you to absorb most of the fall.

Floyd is a maelstrom of emotions. He’s upset that you lost control, he’s mad that he almost let you fall, and he’s certain, given the state of your broom, that something was amiss with it. Before he can act on his whirlwind of emotions, they’re all quelled by a soft stroke on his cheek.

“Are you alright?” you asked, eyes roaming his figure for injuries and tone filled with worry. Aside from the dirt on your uniform, you appear otherwise unharmed and that calms him more than Floyd will ever admit.

“No-oh!~ It hurts! Maybe if you give me a k-i-ss it’ll feel better?” he teases. Uncertainty and hints of disbelief swirl in your eyes as you bite your lip lightly. Before he can assure he’s just kidding, a heart-wrenchingly gentle kiss lands on his cheek.

“Feel better now?” you ask tentatively, “Did you cast some spell that needs kisses as a catalyst to heal wounds?” Floyd smirks at your naivety.

Jade Leech

Jade is reassuring you while you wait for your brooms. It’s your first time flying and you have jitters but it’s a compulsory component and Ashton Vargas is hardly the empathetic mushy type

Jade sees your broom is rather stiff and offers to switch with you, but you’re scampering to the start line before he can closely inspect your broom

You have an uneasy start, unsteady and quivering, but soon you’re high up in the skies with your classmates

Then your broom sputters and in the blink of an eye, you’re plunging towards the hard ground

Jade acts quickly, casting a spell with an enchanted item, which slows your descent and has you landing on a magic bubble rather than solid rock. The bubble pops as you descend on it and you land on your feet and into Jade’s arms. Your fingers dig into his jacket in an attempt to stop yourself from crumbling on the spot.

“Why don’t we head back to the café?” Jade suggests, his voice smooth and steady as it lulls you back to reality. If you looked a little closer, you’d notice how Jade grit his teeth, but at the moment you simply clung onto him for strength. You don’t trust your voice yet so you nod in response. In the distance, you hear chatter and screams, apparently, you weren’t the only one to fall prey to this horrid scheme. But with each step away from the chaos, a little bit of normality returns to your life.

“Take a seat here, I’ll get you something warm to drink,” Jade insists while pulling out a chair for you. You fiddle with the utensils as you try to distract yourself from that horrid first attempt at flying. The thought of ever going into the skies again is enough for your stomach to start performing acrobatics.

“Enjoy.” Before your thoughts can spiral, your favourite warm beverage is in your hands. Jade sits beside you with a cup of his own, but he waits for your reaction.

“Thanks,” you murmur and bring the steaming drink to your lips. As the hot liquid runs down your throat and fills your body, you finally feel at peace. The corners of your lips turn upwards slightly. The warmth in your hands spreads to your heart. Impulsively, you turn towards Jade and share this precious warmth with a kiss to his cheek. An unexpected blush blooms on his face, but it only serves to make your smile bigger.

Jack Howl

He doesn’t really like you, okay? He’s not paying extra attention in class to you. You don’t catch his eyes or grab his attention.

He won’t unnecessarily associate with people, no matter how often his gaze wanders to you.

Then he hears your shriek and he acts on adrenaline.

You’re falling and he couldn’t care less what anyone said about him. He could hardly be worried about looking vulnerable with your impending death

He breaks your fall, and both of you roll on the ground from the sheer force of the fall

His muscular arms wrap around your body as he takes most of the blow from the fall. Your head is spinning and you’re too unsteady and bruised to do much else but remain in his hold. He starts yelling but the ringing in your ears makes it hard to identify what he’s saying.

“… so weak! … so stupid! What were you doing?” His mouth unleashes something in between a barrage of insults and a lecture but his trembling arms and contorted expression tell an entirely different story. He’s worried about you, maybe even scared for your safety. Eventually, silence fills the space between the two of you but his arms still cage your body.

“Sorry for worrying you,” you said softly. You stare up into eyes with trepidation, and before your brain can overthink it, you clumsily kiss his cheek. The shock loosens his hold on you but his surprised visage is enough to send a deep blush to your cheeks. You quickly blurt out some sort of thanks and then run off before Jack has a chance to properly comprehend the situation.

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie notices some classmates snickering a bit too much, and he recognizes the malicious glint in their eyes even if they do try to conceal it

He’s not too concerned until he sees one of them point specifically at you

He’s a little surprised, Savanaclaw kids certainly have their flaws but at least most had the guts to openly confront each other. They couldn’t be bothered with subterfuge and sabotage, they just fought each other

Ruggie wastes no time confronting the group, intimidation and confrontation a familiar tactic for him. He didn’t become the vice dorm leader of Savanaclaw Snaps through gentleness, and he extracts the information he wants

Unfortunately, the idiots don’t even have an inkling about how to undo the jinx. He snaps their wands in half from rage alone

Before he can teach them a lesson, your screech pierces Ruggie’s ears. Worry instantly fills his mind, Ruggie is used to breaking up fights, not saving people

Ruggie doesn’t have the same inherent fountain of magic Leona does, but it’s enough to cast a shaky spell that prevents you from splattering. It doesn’t stop the tree branches from smacking your body or the rocks from cutting your flesh during the fall though. Ruggie is by your side in an instant, cradling you carefully.

While all your limbs are intact, scratches and bruises litter your skin. White-hot fury flows through his blood. He engraves the faces of the perpetrators into his mind, planning to teach them a permanent lesson. Your groan brought his attention back to the situation at hand, and he barely suppresses his anger in favour of carrying you to the infirmary.

With a gentleness that surprises even him, he holds your body like a precious doll or perhaps like a knight saving his liege. He anxiously paces outside your infirmary bed as your wounds are being cleaned and dressed. Eventually, the two of you are left alone after being advised that you’d need rest and were excused from physical classes for a while.

“Ruggie?” you croak. His swinging tail stills at your voice.

“Yeah?” He trudges towards you. You beckon him with his hand, and he can’t help but follow, sitting beside your bed. Bandaged and weak, he has trouble finding the willpower to deny you.

“Come closer,” you murmur. He bites his lip but obeys anyway. Slowly, as to not agitate your injuries, you lift yourself up with a tired grin. Your lips graze Ruggie’s cheek, it’s hard to muster up enough strength for much more, but it’s enough to perk up his ears and his tail lets you know he definitely felt it.

“Thanks for saving me,” you whisper before closing your eyes and finally resting, feeling safe with Ruggie beside you.

Cater Diamond

Cater heard rumours of some students planning on hexing some brooms, but he didn’t think it’d happen, least of all to you. There were plenty of vengeful and colourful characters at the school but many were all bark and no bite

“HELP!” Hearing your plea for aid was all it took for Cater to kick it into high gear

Cater immediately grabs a broom and starts flying to catch you.

The broom wavers a bit from the impact of you falling into his arms, but aside from messy hair, the physical damage is minimal

Cater teases you, saying how you’re lucky to have a friend like him to save you with a grin. He holds you a bit too tight which betrays his cheerful facade

“Safe to say that class is over today, yeah?” His voice is light but there’s a tightness in his throat that Cater struggles to bury. His arms haven’t left your waist, even as the two of you descend on solid ground.

“Thanks for saving me.” Your words are sincere but your voice can’t help but waver after the traumatic experience.

“I’d say we deserve a treat,” Cater declares. Your eyes widen, but since he just saved your life, you decide to trust whatever plan he’s come up with. A small fragile smile forms on your face as you nod. Cater keeps a hand on your shoulder as he guides you.

Each step is easier than the last and eventually, your legs have enough strength to support you. Even then, Cater keeps a hand on your body and its presence is reassuring, so neither of you comment on it.

“Here we are!” Cater announces before opening the door to the cutest patisserie you’ve ever seen. Pastel pink and green are accented by white giving the shop both a spring vibe and elegant theme. Shelves are lined with macarons, cookies, petit fours, cakes, and sweets to tempt just about anyone.

One glazed cake catches your eyes with bright colours and a flavour combination that sounds too good to pass up. Cater catches your gaze and orders it before you even need to ask. The dessert tastes even better than it looks. The contrasting textures and complementary flavours make for a great bite of food.

You finally feel happy after that disaster and the person responsible for that is right beside you with an easy smile. An idea sparks in your mind and it must show in your expression because Cater lifts an eyebrow up in a silent question. You press a firm kiss on his cheek on top of his Diamond.

“Not as sweet as these desserts, but I hope you accept it as thanks for today,” you explain. Cater feels his heart swell, grateful for the affection. He’s now determined to show the culprits behind your life-threatening fall how heartless he can be.

#I never realized how slow of a writer I could be #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #floyd leech #jade leech #octavinelle #ruggie bucchi #jack howl #savanaclaw #cater diamond #heartslabyul #long post #twisted wonderland headcanon #twisted wonderland scenario #twstdreams #twisted dreams

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lokidrabbles · 4 years

Text

Both Sides of the Coin (Lady Loki x fem!Reader)

A/N: I’ve always wanted to write some cute fluff with genderfluid/Lady Loki and so, here it be!

Warnings: Suggested Smut

Reader has a desire to braid Loki’s long beautiful hair, leading to an unexpected encounter with his alternate form.

Whether he noticed it or not, you had a knack for being observant over Loki and whatever small changes he would make with his appearance and attire. It was a privileged to witness Loki’s transition from regal Asgardian wear to, Midgard business casual, and then to true casual, often sporting a comfy combo of a dark hoodie and a pair of sinfully tight jeans you noted as his favorite. The black suit was indeed one of your preferred choices but you had grown very fond of his casual attire, greedily taking in whatever sight you caught of his thick thighs and buttocks.

Throughout this transition, Loki’s dark locks began to grown long and thick, beginning to surpass his shoulders. His current hair, finally meeting the exceptional standard hair quality for Asgardian men, presented another devilish opportunity for you to engage in. Good ol’ fashioned hair braiding.

Your twitching fingers and interest took you into conducting small research on Nordic/Viking hairstyles, shock full of intricate braids, symbolizing specific and special milestones warriors were to meet. When the opportunity presented itself, you made the suggestion to Loki, claiming it to be a way for humans to bond closer together through the use of soft, intimate touch. You were pleasantly surprised when he agreed to the ruse.

He sat in between your legs dangling from the couch, sitting upright to ensure you had a good view of the back of his head. You almost delivered a childish squeal in anticipation, prepping up combs, brushes and an assortment of hair bands and bobby pins. “I must say, there’s something absurd about someone taking this much interest in something as trifling as my hair.” He commented, feeling your fingers begin to separate his hair into sections. A wave of tingles traveled from his scalp all the way down to his spine, releasing a pleasant, relaxed hum from him.

“Your hair is so lovely Loki.” You mentioned, letting his dark locks slips through your fingers, gently falling back onto his back. You took a wide tooth comb and gently began to tease out any knots or tangles he might have had.

There was an assumption his hair would be a bit difficult to tame. While it wasn’t completely out of control, his wavy looks would at times spiral and intertwine with themselves suggested otherwise. To your astonishment, his hair was soft and easy to manage and manipulate.

“I’d kill for hair like this. It’s thick and full of life. Mine unfortunately as become a bit brittle with all the product I use.” You mentioned, continuing to comb accordingly.

“I don’t think your hair is brittle. I like your hair.” He replied softly, sending a wave of butterflies in your chest.

“Thanks, but women can only dream of having hair like this.”

His ears perked a bit. “Women, hmm?” There was a noted mischief hinted in his voice, one you had trained yourself to catch onto early on. “Should we have a sneak peek at how it would look?”

You chuckled. “I can’t really stop you once you got something up your sleeve like that.”

You set the comb to the side briefly and began to use your fingers to massage his scalp, combing out any tangles and knots to ensure the braiding process would not be difficult. Your focused heavily on your digits, ensuring the motion to begin braiding was correct while also continuing to provide a sense of relaxation for Loki. You hear a playful hum come from him, a sound affirming his pleasure at your fingertips. Your heart thumped, and an uncontrollable smiled formed upon your fame.

Loki glowed in a flash, the same golden flash you had come to recognize when he would project clones of himself or when he would transform into someone else. Your eyes darted around the room to catch any glimpse of projections, but were still met with an empty living room.

“Loki? What did you do?”

He didn’t answer, however, you began to notice the texture of his hair slightly changed. It was still pitch black, only now it had become straighter, much more softer, and a pleasant floral smell began to fill your nostrils. Loki’s back, once broad and large, had now appeared smaller, slimmer.

“Loki?”

You heard a playful chuckle coming from him. But this time it didn’t sound like him. In fact, it didn’t sound like a him at all. This voice was much more high pitched, smoother and a tad more flirty than before. Your mouth slightly became agape once Loki turned around to have a good peek at your reaction.

“Well? It’s been a while since I’ve been like this. I admit, it’s a bit fun to use since it causes everyone to choke.”

Her lips were full and pouty, contrasting in pink against her pale skin. Her eyelashes were to die for, full and fluttering naturally, hypnotizing emerald eyes behind them. Her skin, while still Loki’s skin, was much more flushed and clearer, almost porcelain to the touch. You were speechless, blinking in utter confusion. “Darling, it’s still me, you know this right?” She pondered, turning and adjusting her body to face you. “Did I startle you?“ You felt an uncomfortable heat rise up into your face, cheeks unavoidably red now. You figured Loki turned into a woman now, but you were unprepared to face the workmanship that was Lady Loki. She was stunningly beautiful, in contrast to his equally handsome and beautiful profile. The God, er, Goddess of Mischief and Chaos presented herself to you, not as a force to reckon with but as a masterpiece of unobtainable other worldly beauty.

But then you looked down at her chest and you attitude became much less eager. There, in plain sight, the world’s most perkiest and roundest breasts you had ever witnessed, ones only mortal women could ever dream of having.

You hesitantly brought your hands to your own smaller breasts, looking down and then back up at Loki’s own, groaning at the apparent size difference.

“Are you serious? Even as a woman, your tits need to be bigger than mine?” You commented with indignation. “Oh?” There was a dumbfounded look on her face which upset you even further. “I didn’t realize this was considered large among human women.” She then pushed herself to stand upwards, cupped both breast in her hands, pondering and weighting them in each to attest whether they were too big or not. “I always aimed for the average size, honest.” “Please stop.” You intervened immediately.

She chuckled, reaching down to hold your hands securely in hers. Her gaze was unavoidable, looking deep into your own eyes, she inched in close to your ear, sending a trail of goosebumps at the back of your neck. “I like your breasts just the way they are, they are absolutely delicious.”

There was no doubt about it, Loki remained inside of her, and whether it was a she or a he, they would always find a way to absolutely seduce you in all shapes and forms.

“We should go out together more often while you look like this.” You mentioned softly, a playful smile on your face. “I think we’d have a kick at your brother’s and Tony’s reactions.”

Loki took advantage of the moment, plopping down next you on the couch, sliding a slim arm around your waist. You pulled yourself closer to her, resting your legs upon her thighs. She smiled, landing an endearing kiss upon your temple.

“Would you be comfortable with me in this form?” She asked, continuing to trail her kisses down to your cheek. You sighed with much content, scooting even closer to her.

“Of course, it’s still you. It’s always you.”

She grinned. “I’m rather curious. Which do you prefer more?”

“W-well,” You began, stuttering. It was quite the unexpected question, but what else would you expect from Loki. “I mean I like both, I can’t really chose.”

“Don’t be shy.” She jested, squeezing your side. “I won’t be bothered by whatever you chose.”

“I mean, I’ve spent more time with guy Loki than anything, but I don’t really have a basis of comparison, I didn’t even know you could change genders like this.”

“Very true. Then I should probably even out the playing field, don’t you agree?” And there again, was the indisputable glint of mischief in Loki’s eye. You knew exactly what that look meant.

“Wait, does that mean even, like, in the bed...” Your voice trailed off and the risk of sounding stupid and lewd.

A rather suggestive smirk appeared on her face. “Don’t try to hide the fact that you haven’t thought about it since the moment I changed.”

You gulped, and accepted the fact you wouldn’t be engaging in any hair braiding for the remainder of the evening.

---

#loki #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki imagine #loki x female reader #lady loki #lady loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki of asgard #loki odinson #mcu imagines #mcu loki

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meridiansdominoes · 4 years

Text

Catch the Rain

@thatfunkyopossum threatened me with bodily harm if I didn’t post this so here it is ha! Some Blyla is good for the soul.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24339991

______________________________________________________________

It’s raining.

Bly likes how it smells. There’s something earthy and pleasant about it here. On Kamino, rain means lightning and ozone that clogs the air until it’s hard to breathe. Here, he inhales the scent slowly, and understands for the first time why rain is such a big deal to nat-borns. It smells like life. The sound of the droplets against the giant leaves above them is soothing in a way that he hadn’t expected to enjoy.

He thinks that General Secura is enjoying it as well. She is silent next to him, eyes closed, breathing deeply. He can’t tell if she’s meditating or just listening. Either way she seems more relaxed than he’s seen her this entire campaign.

They’ve been on this planet for a month already. It’s not the most difficult mission Bly has ever been involved with, though it’s no cakewalk either. The planet is full of quaint little villages and trees as far as the eye can see. The droids have been falling back for a week now, abandoning their outposts, and victory seems to be close at hand.

General Secura has been unusually pensive since the moment they first disembarked the cruiser to set foot on this planet. Bly had been concerned at first, until one morning she’d stared up into the sky (sprawling endless blue that matches her skin and stop right there—) and sighed deeply.

“It is beautiful, this planet. It is a pity that so much of it will be destroyed. It is full of life. The Force is strong here. It sings of contentment and peace.”

“We’ll try not to destroy it, sir,” Bly had told her distractedly, a holo-map and a dozen different battle strategies in front of him. He’d been confused when she had frowned at him before striding away to check on the men.

He… hadn’t liked that expression. He’d seen it before, but never directed at him. He’d surprised himself with how disgruntled he was for the rest of the day.

He’d surprised himself even more when he found himself searching for the strategy that would leave them with the least amount of terrain damage possible.

The men weren’t necessarily happy with him. They’d brought flamethrowers and were very disappointed to be banned from using them. Bly is still getting flak for it even a month in, but he doesn’t care. General Secura is happier this way, and it isn’t the most difficult thing to avoid doing unnecessary damage to their surroundings. There’s considerably less explosives involved than normal, but that doesn’t diminish the 327th’s effectiveness. Bly’s men are the best, of course—once they get over their disappointment, they’re riled up at the prospect of a challenge. They rise to the occasion as always. Bly is prouder of them than he’d ever admit out loud.

Most of his men are currently huddled under low-hanging branches around them, scattered beneath different trees to avoid the rain. It isn’t a heavy rainfall, but they’re waiting around for a few scouts to return before they can advance and no brother wants to be wet if he can help it.

“Do you see it, Commander?”

Bly freezes at the question, hand tightening around his gun automatically. He scans the treeline for enemies and tenses further when he can’t find anything.

“Sir? Droids?”

She hums softly. Amusement curls at the edge of the sound.

“No. Peace, Bly. We are safe here.”

“If you say so,” he tells her, and he means it. She always speaks the truth. He trusts her unconditionally for it. He loosens his hold around his blaster. “If there aren’t any droids, what is it that I’m supposed to be looking for?”

“The rain, Commander.”

Bly blinks out at the landscape around them, at the rain pouring down from the sky to trickle across roots and grass and stone. A droplet chooses that exact moment to worm its way through the leaves above them and plunk onto the top of Bly’s helmet. He raises an eyebrow pointedly.

“Yes, sir. It’s hard to miss.”

He’s aware that she has some ulterior motive to asking. He just doesn’t know what it is yet. She lets out a soft laugh at his answer. He almost grins—almost, before he manages his expression into something more professional.

“It is hard to miss,” she agrees with a fond smile. “But there are many details that one does indeed miss, if they are not paying close enough attention.”

Bly tilts his head. She has his attention. (She always has his attention. He couldn’t pull it away from her if he tried—)

“What do you mean by that, sir?”

She doesn’t answer him. Instead, she steps out from under their leafy cover. Bly winces.

“General... if you catch a cold the medics will come after me—”

She tilts her head up, eyes closed, face towards the clouds, shoulders dropping, arms outstretched, palms upward to catch the rain. The rest of his words die in his throat.

He doesn’t like water, had struggled with ARC training’s SCUBA section and barely made it through, he doesn’t like rain even though he likes how it smells this time, but—he wants to step out after her, suddenly. He wants to feel the water run trails down his head and vibrate against his skull. He takes an aborted step forwards, hesitates.

“Sir...”

She gestures to him with one lek, raising and curling it in a distinct “come here”. Bly mutters a half-hearted curse and steps out into the rain. It drums softly against his armor.

He’s trying not to look at her too much. The water droplets glisten like cut kyber crystals against her skin. It’s... ethereal, somehow. Like it isn’t even real. Something out of a dream.

His heart skips a beat against his will. He stiffens. Absolutely not. Not allowed. No, no, no.

“Lock it down, soldier,” he mutters from between clenched teeth—but the words don’t help. General Secura opens her eyes and glances over at him, curious.

“What did you say, Commander?”

“Uh—” Kriff kriff kriff— “Nothing, sir. Just talking to myself, that’s all.”

“Please, Commander. I value your thoughts. You’re welcome to share.”

Force save him. He scrambles for something to say.

“I was just thinking...” He casts his gaze upward, pleading for salvation, and suddenly, he sees.

The rain spirals down, colliding softly against his visor. He can see every droplet plummeting towards him. It’s hypnotizing. He’s never looked at rain like this—he’s always rushed to escape it, to avoid the cold and the frustrating struggle that is removing wet blacks. From this new perspective he feels... small. Small and young, watching laws and powers and energies shift, continuing their patterns that have existed for eternities, their cycles that will never end. It’s breathtaking. General Secura must be rubbing off on him. It’s not something he would have been able to appreciate a few months ago.

“Ah,” General Secura says. The pleased note of her voice sends warmth curling down Bly’s spine. “Now you see.”

“Yeah,” Bly mumbles clumsily. He reaches up and takes his helmet off. It makes everything sharper somehow, more real—it’s cold and he has to squint because the water keeps dripping into his eyes but he can taste it on his lips now. Droplets tumble against the crown of his head like light fingers tapping at his scalp. A stream of water slides down the back of his skull, gentle as a caress. He takes a deep breath. It’s easy to get caught up in the sensations and relax. Just for a moment.

He hates water. But this is different. This, he doesn’t mind.

(It... may or may not have something to do with who’s next to him. But—no, it doesn’t. What a foolish thought.)

When he finally looks down at her, she’s smiling again. It’s something soft, something tender. There are water droplets dripping off of the points of her lekku. She looks happy. She looks at peace. Her eyes are bright.

He wants to—

Stop.

He steps away and clears his throat. His arms tuck themselves behind his back as he straightens, schooling his expression into something neutral. He shoves his helmet back on. He doesn’t want to but he has to—

“Thank you, sir,” he says awkwardly. “That was... nice.” Understatement. But he can’t say anything more.

She doesn’t seem put out by his stunted words. She nods at him with a hint of patience so immense that he couldn’t even hope to match it.

“Will you see to the men now?” she asks him. Her voice isn’t quite the same as it had been a few moments ago, but it’s still affectionate. He swallows.

“Yessir. I’ll make sure everything is prepared for our next assault.” He’s proud of how steady his voice is. Lock it down. Hide it away. There’s no place for this on the battlefield. There’s no place for it ever, sithspit, he shouldn’t even—

He spins on his heel and marches away from her. The rain continues to tap against his armor incessantly. The sound is tainted by the peaceful memory now, by the sensation of cool water trickling against his cheeks and the sight of diamond raindrops transforming blue skin to blue sapphires as they cling to her brow. He fights to shake it away, to focus, to settle back into the Commander Bly that ignores those things and does his duty.

It’s harder every single time, but he manages. He has to. Bly knows his place.

The rain continues, and he ignores it.

#fanfic #blyla #commander bly #Aayla Secura

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utterlyinevitable · 4 years

Text

What’s For Dinner

Paring: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Rebecca Lao) Word Count: 1.6k Warning: Lil bit of romance at the end. Rated PG-15. Summary: Becca embarrassed Ethan at work and later that night he makes her pay for it.

Author’s Note: This one shot is inspired by @ohchoices prompt request 23. “You Always Look Beautiful” and 81. “Hello, Mr. Grumpy.” I also wrote this as part of @julychoiceschallenge Day 9 prompt “Space” and @wackydrabbles prompt “I don’t plan on stopping”. They’ll be underlined and in bold. Enjoy!

sorry for any mistakes i didn’t proofread or edit at all

Taglist: @ohchoices @dulceghernandez @aylamreads @binny1985 @ramseysno1rookie @interobanginyourmom @queencarb @perriewinklenerdie @rookiefromedenbrook @eramsey28 @choicesficwriterscreations @heauxplesslydevoted @schnitzelbutterfingers @purpledragonturtles @ramseyandrys @ermidc @mrsdrakewalkerblog @doilooklikeiknow @overwhelminglyaquarius

________________________________________

Ethan stood in his kitchen cooking dinner with nothing but his deep navy work trousers still on. He had an early day at work and was preparing dinner in cold silence. Too deep in his spiraling thoughts to notice the click of the apartment door shutting and jingle of keys against the sideboard.

“Hello, Mr. Grumpy,” Becca cheerfully called from the opposite side of the kitchen island in the open-concept space as she took the day off.

She shimmied out of her skirt and unbuttoned the top few buttons of her blouse getting comfortable. Her black pencil skirt left abandoned on the bar stool and her heels and purse left by the front door. Coming home to Ethan always sent a surge of placidity throughout her body - an unique sense of veneration for the most mundane of things really.

Although they weren’t living together Becca had her own set of keys to Ethan’s bachelor pad and spent most nights there. She even has a section of the closet, a couple drawers throughout the home and everything in between. Neither kindred spirit wanted to give up the option of independence just yet. Becca also just couldn’t let go of her friends - the jokes and antics that could only transpire in their shared living space - and settling down with Ethan Ramsey seemed like something far off after residency anyway. After all, Ethan was much too old for some of their schemes.

Even with all the rustling and no intention from her of keeping things quiet, Ethan still paid her no mind.

Becca took in his stance. The muscles of his back defined and tense. He stood stoically, entranced by the food in front of him. Becca rolled her eyes at the sight and his blatant disregard for her.

“Are you seriously not speaking to me?” she asked incredulously.

With no answer she got her answer.

Her tongue pressed firmly in the side of her mouth out of frustration.

She lightly rounded the counter on the tips of her toes and bounded her way over to her lover, dangerously encroaching on his personal space. A light smile made its way unknowingly onto Becca’s lips at the smell of the last notes of his cologne mixing with the musk glistening off his skin as he slaved over the hot stove. He stood indifferent, a spatula in his right hand and pan handle in the other.

“That smells good,” Becca noted as she stared at the contents. Nutty and sweet wafts tickling the end of her nose.

Still no response from the statuesque man before her.

In defiance she reached her arm across him, making a point to brush her forearm across his pec to pluck a roasted carrot off a tray.

Looking up at him she took a dramatic chomp, “Tastes good too.”

Ethan kept his steely blue gaze on the food, not wanting to play into her antics.

She sighed without recognition.

Just like she does most times he’s cooking, Becca moved to stand behind Ethan and wrapped her arms around his taut abdomen, gently pressing her head against her lover’s back. The feeling of his warm skin against hers is something she’ll never tire of. It always felt as if she was standing under the sun rays on a clear day. A place where nothing else matters. And when they were pressed like this nothing did matter.

“What is it?” She asked as she kissed his shoulder blade.

Ethan involuntarily relaxed his rigid shoulders into her touch. As much as he wanted space to brute he just couldn’t stay mad at her. Not anymore. They’ve gotten to the point in their relationship where just one look from the other admonishes all of life’s worries and the day's tragedies. A deeper level of unconditional friendship - a deep fondness for the others' very existence.

He told her without a second thought, “Almond crusted salmon and roasted vegetables with a yogurt dressing.”

Becca nuzzled her nose into the soft space between his shoulder blades, “You’ve been busy.” It wasn’t unlike Ethan to make a ‘fancy’ and labor intensive meal for them, but his dedication to the culinary arts always surprised her.

Ethan rolled his eyes.

Becca let her hands fall from him and grabbed a few more carrots. Then she hopped up on the counter adjacent to the oven as munched.

“So… how was your day?” she asked knowing full well how a majority of his day went. They were on the same team after all, and she did unintentionally embarrass him completely in front of Baz, June, Zaid and Ines.

Out of the corner of his eye he let himself ogle her. The hem of her emerald green button down fell on the top of her thigh nearly meeting the nude lace of her holdup tights, the top four buttons undone to expose her nude bra, and the puffed sleeves deflated after the long day. Her hair was still straggly and falling over her shoulders. He wondered to himself if she lost her hair tie once again - it was rare her hair wasn’t thrown upwards the second her shift ended.

“Oh come on!” She exclaimed when he didn’t respond, “I didn’t mean to do it.” With a heavy sigh she added, “Nobody died, let’s move on. You can’t be mad at me forever.”

“I’m not mad. I’m disappointed.”

Becca threw her hands melodramatically, “That’s worse!”

The corners of Ethan’s lips perked in amusement at the outburst. He let her throw her strop for a few moments. Once she angrily consumed the last of her snacks he turned the oven and hob off, going over and settling himself between her legs. How could he stay mad at the light in his life?

“How was your day?”

She shrugged, making a point not to look him in the eye, “Fine.”

“Just fine?” he asked inquisitively, a chipper glimmer in his eyes.

“Could be better,” she pouted.

“Oh?” Ethan caressed the soft skin of her inner thigh gingerly with the pad of his thumb.

Becca let her eyes close and savor his touch. Every time their bare skin met it felt like the first time. Her heart beat just one beat faster in anticipation of his next move - she’d be happy with just a peck on the cheek. Everything about Ethan Ramsey has lightning coursing through her veins. She let the peace it brought lull her into serenity.

Ethan moved closer so the front of his thighs were pressed up against the lower cabinets. His left hand placed itself firmly on her hip to ground himself as he nestled to place a kiss at the top of her neck right under her jaw. Instinctively Becca craned her head to allow him more access, eyes still shut.

His soft, never chapped lips were on her skin leaving a quick hot mark. Ethan didn’t pull away completely, his warm breath sending pleasant goosebumps up her back and he could feel the thigh muscle beneath his hand tense. He moved to place another kiss behind her ear.

Becca let a content sigh slip. She could feel his smirk as he took her lobe delicately between his teeth.

“Ethan…” she warned.

His right hand moved from her thigh and to her cheek, holding her head in place. She wasn’t getting out of this so easily. He began to tenderly pepper more sultry kisses down her neck.

And more along her jaw.

“How do you always look so beautiful?” he mused. Ethan’s mind was fogged by his senses, all consumed with the miraculous deity before him, he couldn’t tell if he said the words out loud or if they were still the soundtrack to his consciousness.

She started to feel weightless, thankful for his hold keeping her in this moment and leaning further into his large and calloused palm. Becca shifted slightly so his thumb fell along her idle lower lip, letting just the tip of his shallow nail between her pink stained lips. Her jagged breath now on his skin elicited a small shiver from him. Ethan growled when she brought his finger further into her mouth.

He began to kiss her cheeks.

Her forehead.

The sides of her nose.

Becca scooted to the edge of the counter-top letting Ethan’s presence keep her afloat. He took the hint and slipped his left hand up under her blouse, finally letting go of her hip to reveal red indents of his fingertips. He silently hoped they wouldn’t bruise while Becca hoped they would - a battle-scar of the pleasure that was to come.

Becca trailed her hands up his torso, letting them stop at the base of his neck. She opened her now hazy eyes.

Ethan felt the motion and pulled away.

Lustful light brown coupling with passionate shiny blue.

His eyes were heavy and full of love - the way he looked at her with an unmatched desire had her stomach aflutter. The harsh lines of his face smoothed over and he never looked more childish than he did when he was consumed by her. She was sure she had the same look reflected on her features.

“Ethan…” she breathed once more. Her eyes flicked to dinner forgotten on the stove with Ethan following quickly.

In response his right hand moved to the back of her head and tangled his fingers in her aged curls. He finally gave her the kiss she deserved. Hot, passionate, tender and mind numbing. Becca forgot everything happening and had happened and so did he. Their contact was the only thing keeping her from flying off to heaven.

“I don’t plan to stop,” Ethan moaned against her lips.

_________________________

masterlist

#open heart #choices open heart #open heart fanfic #choices fanfic #choices oph2 #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey #oph ff #oph #ff

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lhs3020b · 3 years

Text

In a very unexpected moment tonight, I found myself writing something. Yes, some actual fiction. Umm, wow. It’s not particularly-polished, I certainly wouldn’t call it “good”, but nonetheless, here is a thing.

This is a ghost from an old, 2015-era writing project of mine. You probably will have seen bits of it before. This would be the opening portion of the novel, if the novel was still in any way a possibility. The two main characters meet and compare notes on themselves and the confusing mess of the world they live in.

(A passing content note: their world is recovering in some ways and has been worse inside both Tai and Corazon’s lifetimes, but it is not a happy place, and some very bad things have happened. So a measure of reader discretion is advised.)

(Also, yes, the ending is quite abrupt - it’s 2 AM so I should probably consider calling it a night.)

Anyway, have about ~3500 words of fiction...

‘We have arrived at the Corazon residence,’ the car said.

Lieutenant Tai Zhang looked up from her phone. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Lock the doors while I’m out, but don’t drive off. I should only be a few minutes.’

The car said, ‘For insurance purposes I’m instructed to remind you that I have an anti-carjacking protocol-’

‘Yes, yes, of course,’ Tai sighed. ‘If one of the locals tries to put you up on bricks, you’ll zap them with a stun charge and zoom off. And howl for the police. Who may even turn up, who knows. And Dr Corazon and I will have to walk back to the Fleet base. I get it, I get it. Now let me get on with my job.’

The car took the hint and shut up. It wasn’t a full Tech Mind, of course – no way could the Navy afford their contracting rates – but its social simulation unit wasn’t entirely stupid either. The door unfolded upwards. Hot, damp January air flooded in, along with the smells of the city. Vegetation, oil, a hint of sewage and a whiff of something rotten. Actually, compared to the New Dockside area, this wasn’t so bad.

Tai climbed out of the car; the door hissed down behind her. She took a look around herself. She was stood on a cracked and pitted curbside. Amazingly, it looked like pre-Contact concrete. There was certainly no sign that it had experienced any recent maintenance. To judge from the fractured blocks, some of which lay out of place, it may well not have had any repairs since the early 2040s.

‘At least there is a pavement around here,’ Tai muttered. New London had a lot of dirt tracks; the first tsunami had sunk a good chunk of the old city and the quakes had done for a lot of what survived. Rock One, after all, had come down right in the middle of the North Sea. Whilst it had been the smallest of the two impactors, nonetheless it had been big enough. It was fair to say that coastal and near-coastal Europe had had a bad day.

Just as the car had promised, Corazon’s house was right in front of her. Tai was interested to note that it was a treehouse, clearly post-Contact. All bulbous and round, big fat leaves hanging over its top. Windows and a door had been incorporated into the bioengineered wood. The house-tree seemed fully grown, and from the lichen on the bark, it had to be at least a few years old. As she looked around, Tai saw that most of the neighbouring dwellings were also treehouses, though confusingly, there was a surviving pre-Contact apartment block on the corner of the street. The brickwork and the old-style PVC windows looked incredibly out of place, the building equivalent of a fly stuck in amber.

Tai fingered the collar of her uniform jacket. She felt uncomfortably-hot. A glance at her phone revealed that the air temperature was hovering around twenty-five degrees Celsius – not exceptionally hot for the time of year, but certainly enough to be unpleasant. No point wasting any time, then. She needed to go and collect their guest.

Tai opened the little picket-fence gate in front of the house and started down the path. Next to her, an array of solar panels was tracking the Sun. Corazon’s garden also had a backup wind turbine, parked on the opposite side of the path. Apparently the academic didn’t trust the municipal grid. Honestly, Tai couldn’t blame him, though on the other hand it did seem a bit excessive. After all, this was the 2060s, not the ‘50s. Even a chaotic urban mess like New London averaged about six hours’ reliable electricity per day.

Tai reached the door. She lifted her hand and knocked smartly on it, rapping three times. It was an Academy instinct, repeatedly burnt into her brain by the Fleet’s officer candidate school. You always knocked three times and waited before entering, unless of course you really liked doing lots of push-ups. This January morning was, in Tai’s opinion, far too hot for push-ups.

She heard some clattering from inside the house. ‘Wait, wait, I’m on my way!’ a muffled voice said. It was male, with an accent she couldn’t quite place.

The door opened. Tai blinked. ‘Uh,’ she said.

The man looked at her, seeming a bit confused. Then recognition flickered across his face. ‘Oh of course!’ he said. ‘You’re from the Fleet, aren’t you. They said they’d be sending a car, though I did wonder if it would actually turn up.’

Tai managed to recover her surprise. She hadn’t realised that her passenger-to-be was old. From his grey hair and wrinkled face, he couldn’t be under fifty. With a slight shiver, Tai realised what that meant – he’d been born, and had grown up, beforehand. Before all of it happened.

‘Dr Carlos Corazon, I assume?’ she said. He nodded. ‘Lovely to meet you. I’m Lieutenant Tai Zhang, and I’ve been tasked with bringing you to the shuttle-dock. We’ll be going up to the Relentless together, for the shakedown flight.’

Corazon blinked. ‘They’re farming out their officers on taxi duty? The Navy really must be a bit strained.’

Oh great, Corazon was one of those people who thought the Navy was a waste of time. It was certainly a common opinion throughout AU-Earth. Certainly it wasn’t entirely wrong. Even the most powerful human-built warship wouldn’t do much damage to even a small Spiral Fleet cruiser. Still, Tai felt this criticism missed the point somewhat. Even if the AU-E Fleet was mostly an exercise in public relations, it was still important to show that the AU-E had something to offer to the wider Concordium.

Also, Corazon had another point, though she doubted he realised it. Tai had no sooner arrived at the ship then she’d found herself immediately ordered off it again, to go and collect some random civilian. She supposed it reflected the last-minute chaos going on within the ship’s complement as it got ready for its first ever flight as an actual ship of the line. A lot of the ship’s officers hadn’t even arrived until yesterday; Tai wasn’t even the latest assignee to make their way to their birth. They were due to undock in less than twenty-four hours; this was not the best use of her time. Tai should be down in Engineering, meeting with her department, getting to know the crew’s names and faces and getting their shift-schedules and duty rosters finalised.

Instead she was here, stood on a doormat somewhere out in New London’s half-resurrected urban carcass.

‘Well,’ she said, ‘the sooner we’re under way, the better.’

The Relentless was the Fleet’s newest warship; its maiden voyage would also be carrying a complement of notaries. Some of them were journalists, some of them were various apparatchiks linked to the current federal coalition government, and a few were people of note from wider society. Dr Corazon was apparently somewhat known within the astronomical community, presumably hence his invitation.

‘Cool,’ Corazon said. ‘Just let me grab my bag…’

He turned around and disappeared back into the house. Tai fought the urge to roll her eyes at his disorganisation. A few moments later, the academic reappeared, clutching a carry-bag. To Tai’s eyes it didn’t look like he had remotely enough changes of clothes – but, she decided that was his problem and not hers.

‘This way,’ she said, gesturing him toward the car.

He closed the door of the house behind him, locking then double-locking it. ‘Just let me arm the security system,’ he said, pulling out his phone. Tai waited patiently as Corazon fiddled with the keys. Something beeped and he looked satisfied. His phone disappeared back into a pocket. This at least was an urge Tai could understand.

‘Lots of crime around here?’ she asked.

He shrugged. ‘Some. Barnet’s not too bad. There are worse boroughs, it’s actually fairly good around here. Most people on this street have formal jobs, you know?’

‘That might attract the gangs,’ Tai noted. ‘Rich neighbourhood and all that.’

Corazon shrugged. ‘My security system is a licensed Tech Mind unit. Non-sentient, of course, but advanced enough to handle itself.’

‘That and a treehouse,’ Tai observed. ‘Those are triffid products. You clearly like your aliens.’

They started walking toward the car. Corazon said, ‘Might as well get used to it. They’re here to stay, you know. I probably know that better than most.’

‘If you don’t mind me asking,’ Tai said, ‘how old are you?’

Corazon rolled his eyes. ‘I knew that question was coming. I get that a lot. Apparently I’m the first old man some of our undergraduates have ever seen.’

That was unlikely in practise – even today, about twenty percent of the AU-E’s population had been born before 2040 – but it wasn’t entirely-impossible either. People in the mid-to-late 2040s and the ‘50s had produced a lot of kids, and that was probably just as well given how few of them there had been left. The New Baby Boom was showing signs of cooling down, though honestly, that was probably not a bad thing either. The planet wasn’t in a great state, and overshooting its carrying capacity was probably a bad idea.

‘You didn’t answer the question,’ Tai said.

Corazon looked irritated. ‘No, I suppose I didn’t, did I? All right, if you insist, I’m sixty-three. I was born in 2004.’

Tai blinked. ‘Shit,’ she said.

‘Yeah,’ Corazon agreed. There wasn’t any need to elaborate on that one.

An awkward silence descended as they approached the car. Tai sent the all-clear to the security system. The doors were folding up and quite suddenly, it began to get dark. Tai felt confused – she couldn’t see any clouds and the forecast for the day had been for clear weather.

‘Oh,’ Corazon said. ‘Of course. Right on cue!’ He pointed up at the sky.

Tai glanced quickly upwards. A big bite was eating the side of the Sun. Corazon said, ‘Parasol Two. Bang on time.’

Oh, of course. Tai had completely forgotten about the parasol-satellite’s scheduled appointment with the Sun.

‘Let’s get in the car,’ Tai said. Even though this was a relatively upscale neighbourhood, she didn’t really want to be stood around on the pavement during the parasol-eclipse. There was such a thing as asking for trouble.

Corazon needed no urging. Moments later they were both safely ensconced in the car. Outside, smoothly and without fuss, an artificial night was falling over the city. Lights flickered on inside buildings, stars bloomed across the now-nightfallen heavens and a few of the streetlights even turned on. The rest were either broken or missing their bulbs.

‘Car,’ Tai said, ‘take us to the Fleet’s dockside complex, please.’

‘Acknowledged,’ the vehicle’s electronic voice said.

The electric engine gently purred to life and the headlights came on. The car pulled out from the curb and began its journey through the city.

‘It will rain later, I expect,’ Corazon remarked. ‘Once the Parasol moves over, I mean. The drop in air temperature can drive condensation in the clouds.’

The forecast hadn’t mentioned that, but Tai supposed it wouldn’t be surprising if it was wrong.

‘Do you find the eclipses weird?’ Tai asked. She realised, just a moment too late, that the question was probably too personal and probably too judgemental. Her passenger certainly thought so. Even in the internal lights of the car, his face darkened.

‘Young lady,’ Corazon snapped, ‘I find everything about this world weird. This is nothing like the place I thought I’d grow old in. It’s the same planet, but a different universe. Though I’m sure that won’t make much sense to you. From the looks of you I’m guessing you’re a post-Contact child.’

He was, Tai thought, rather patronising. She wondered if it was deliberate. No, she didn’t think so. It was just how he was. Perhaps this had been normal behaviour, perfectly average for the world prior to June the Eighth, 2040.

‘I was born in 2042,’ Tai said. ‘I never knew my parents. They got Lung Rot and died not long after I was born.’

The academic didn’t appear to have heard her. He was still staring upwards at the sky.

‘No,’ Corazon said, ‘at least the eclipses make sense. Giant mirror-satellites in orbit, blocking out some sunlight, keeping the temperatures down. Stopping a damaged atmosphere from frying the planet. People did have ideas like that, you know, before. The Contact War made it worse, but climate change existed before 2040. Hell, I vaguely remember hearing about it back in the 2000s!’

Tai boggled. ‘You remember back then?’

‘A bit. I was six in 2010, remember? I do recall the family being very upset about something around ‘08, though I didn’t really understand it.’

‘What could it have been?’ Tai asked. ‘There weren’t any problems then!’

‘There was a planet-wide economic collapse,’ Corazon said. ‘Though nothing like as bad as what happened in the Forties – or the Twenties, for that matter. Anyway it hardly matters now. It was something we did to ourselves, without any external help.’ He looked at the sky, and shuddered. A haunted expression flooded across his face. ‘You know, not like that.’

The artificial night had filled the sky with stars. Some of them were moving – spacecraft, on their journeys to and from any number of destinations. A lot of them were concentrated in the direction of the Moon, though there was no surprise there. The Moon was the main reason the Spiral Concordium bothered with Sol and its planets, after all. It was indirectly the source of all this trouble.

But Corazon wasn’t looking at any of that. His eyes were locked on something else, lower down in the sky. It was pitted and cratered, a rough spheroid, greyish in colour. It was currently in crescent phase, hanging low in the sky and close to the artifically-occluded Sun. But there was no mistaking it.

‘Rock Three,’ Corazon said. ‘That fucker. The one that would have ended us.’

It was harmless now, of course. The 3008th Division of the Spiral Fleet had seen to that, stabilising it onto a safe-if-low orbit around the Earth. But the engineers of the New And Bountiful Prosperity Combine had done their work correctly – had Rock Three impacted, it would have been sufficient to end the Earth’s biosphere, and hide all the evidence of New Prosperity’s crimes forever. The Moon would have been theirs, along with all its reserves of precious Lovecraftium, and the uninhabitable neighbouring planet would have been passed off as a tragic cosmic accident.

‘Three hundred miles wide,’ Corazon said. ‘They actually towed it in all the way from the Kuiper Disc. It wasn’t even in our records before they tossed it at us. Not even a tsunami-making rock. An ocean-boiling rock.’

Rock Three was now a de facto second moon and a permanent fixture in the Earth’s skies, but it was also something that had very nearly been the tombstone for an entire planet. For all the horror they had inflicted, for all the hundreds of millions of people they’d killed, Rocks One and Two had merely been the opening salvos.

‘And of course they tossed in Lung Rot,’ Tai said. ‘As a nice little fuck-you parting-shot.’

‘Yeah, had that.’ Corazon looked grim, then he shrugged. ‘Wasn’t fun. It was like doing Covid all over again. Just joyous. Gotta love hacking up fungal slime out of your own alveoli all day.’

He shuddered. It was a whole-body convulsion.

The Contact War and the two Rocks had been bad, but it was Lung Rot that had done the real, lasting damage. During the early Forties, people had been dying fast enough that the survival of the species had seemed in question for a time, though in practise the Spiral Concordium would never have allowed that. Even if it required raising a cloned population somewhere else, in some carefully-sterilised biodome on some other planet, the Concordium would not have allowed an actual extinction-event. The whole point of the galactic union, for all of its many flaws, was preventing exactly that sort of horror. The Contact War itself should never have happened, of course, but once the Concordium had belatedly become aware of what New Prosperity was doing, they had moved to shut it down. New Prosperity no longer existed; the entire organisation had been declared traitors and anyone who survived the Battle of Earth had been mercilessly hunted down. If there were any former Prosperity scions left out there somewhere, they knew better by now then to advertise their survival.

Lung Rot had been a vicious punch in the face, a final little parting-present from New Prosperity, the spores air-dropped into multiple locations across the Earth even as the Combine’s forces crumbled under the Spiral assault. No-one was really sure why they’d done it. It had gained them nothing; if Rock Three had left any questions unanswered, then Lung Rot surely had removed any doubt about the Combine’s intentions. Their fall had been absolute, from one of the oldest, wealthiest and most-celebrated organisations in the Milky Way to one of the most-despised collections of traitors who had ever lived.

Suddenly, Tai had to talk. The urge was abrupt, dominating, complete. It was probably also a bad idea, but you didn’t always get the choice with these things. The words were flowing from her mouth, and like it or not, they weren’t going to just magically turn off.

‘My earliest actual memory is when they sprayed the camps,’ Tai said. ‘I was in one of the refugee ones, just another orphaned toddler. I had a cough by then, of course. Everyone did. There was space in our tent – a lot of people had been taken out. New people weren’t coming in, not anymore. I didn’t really know what it meant then, of course. But then one day people were – excited? It was weird. I’d never seen them like that. There was suddenly not any crying. People were hugging each other and smiling. I remember they pulled me out of the tent. People were coming out of the tents, everywhere. There was an actual crowd. Cheering, even! It was some triffids that came through. They were pulling a spray-tank. They sprayed all of us – one of them even shoved the nozzle in my mouth!’

‘And the retroviral agent re-wrote your lungs,’ Corazon noted. ‘So they now secrete a natural fungicide, keeping the Lung Rot mycelium at subclinical levels. Yeah, something similar happened to me. Kind of crazy, one of the happiest days of my life, you know? The day in 2045, when the aliens came to genetically-engineer all of us.’ He shook his head. ‘Flying saucers spraying the cities with bio-agents, and people dancing in the streets below! Would’ve been unimaginable just ten years before.’

This chatter was, of course, a normal thing. Tai had had lots of conversations like this. It was quite an average event for people to compare their traumas – virtually everyone living in the AU-Earth had some emotional burden that they were carrying around with them. It was true that social conditions were improving – things were merely “bad” now, rather then the “borderline-apocalyptic” of twenty years previously – but an important part of getting to know someone was trying to gently figure out where their personal sore spots and pain-points lay. Triggering someone into a flashback episode was generally considered to be a social faux pas, especially if it was done deliberately. There were also practical concerns too. It was difficult for a workplace to function if half its staff were either lying on the floor sobbing or had been driven to flee the building by their own inner demons.

Corazon sighed, shrugged and opened his bag. Tai read that as his cue to dismiss this topic. He’d said his piece. And so, she supposed, had she. He knew not to mention the camps, she knew not to mention Lung Rot. They’d told each other what they needed to know, and now it was time to move smoothly onwards.

To Tai’s surprise, he pulled out a pair of knitting needles and a ball of wool. Moments later, a pair of half-finished socks emerged. ‘I am glad someone decided to save the sheep,’ he remarked. ‘We lost so many of the others.’

Lung Rot had been aimed at humans, of course, but the mycelium was at home in any warm, enclosed, moist, dark space. There had been extinctions all throughout Class Mammalia. A whole host of species now only existed as captive populations in carefully-maintained bio-domes, and they were the lucky ones. Someone had cared enough to try to rescue them, during the end of the world.

And the less said about that, the better.

‘You like knitting?’ Tai asked.

Corazon nodded. ‘Actually I make sixty percent of my income from it. My lectureship is nice, but academia is more like a hobby with an office.’ He started up on the socks, the needles twisting and twirling through a series of moves that Tai’s eyes struggled to follow.

‘You sell socks?’ Tai asked. It didn’t surprise her that Corazon had a side-hustle – the AU-Earth’s budgetary situation was tight, and that was very visible in public sector salaries. It was just as well that Tai’s role as an officer came with government-subsidised housing, because there was no way she could afford anything minimally-pleasant on the private market.

‘No, scarves, usually,’ Corazon said. ‘They’re mostly bought by ash lizards. I got into it almost by accident, when I went to Nine Shadows And Six Rivers back in ’52. Took my needles and stuff with me, made a scarf on the ship out. It was just something to do, you know? But when we arrived I gave it to one of our liaison team, as a gift – and they loved it. Before I knew it I had a waiting-list of gender-bending alien lizards, who all wanted individual knitted scarves.’ He snorted. ‘I got to live the high life out on Nine Shadows, while the rest of the exchange group had to slum it, down on the cheap floors of the arcology.’

‘Oh of course,’ Tai said. ‘They like decoration, don’t they?’

‘They don’t go in for clothes in quite the way we do – heat retention messes up their metabolisms something chronic. But they do go in for decoration. Necklaces, wrist-sheathes, sashes. Scarves. Natural materials are particularly-prized.’ He shrugged. ‘Who would have known that knitted goods would be a key export from this planet?’

#LHS writes #original work #yes I somehow wrote something #wow

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chelsfic · 4 years

Text

Take Me Over - Bucky Barnes x Sam Wilson x Reader Smutty One-shot

A/N: Here’s the promised Bucky x Sam x Reader smut. And hoo boy, is it smutty. Hey, seriously--read the warnings.

Warnings: Smut!, M/M/F, Dom/Sub, Safeword usage, Frottage, Blow jobs, Thigh riding, Hand jobs, butt stuff, Dirty talk, PWP, some humil, I mean this is not for the faint of heart pls

Summary: The reader is being a brat. Sam helps Bucky put her back in her place.

Technically you’re Bucky’s girl but you learn pretty quickly that Bucky and Sam share everything. So when Sam walks into Bucky’s apartment in the middle of your punishment and you catch the sly, knowing grin on his face you know that you’re in for it.

He sees you looking and you snap your eyes forward once more. You’re kneeling in the corner, facing the wall, completely naked and waiting for Bucky to decide what punishment you deserve. Your cheeks burn as you listen to the two men discuss your behavior.

“Your girl acting up today, Buck?” Sam asks breezily--as if he doesn’t know that you’re straining to hear every word.

Bucky lets out a long sigh and you imagine him running his hands through his hair in aggravation, the muscle in his jaw jumping as his eyes turn in your direction. Maybe he’s watching you kneel, your shoulders rounded in supplication, trying to steady your breath as it hitches in anticipation.

“She’s being a little brat, Sam,” Bucky drawls, his tone is taunting and condescending. He’s putting on a show for you.

“Tell me,” Sam says and you suck in a breath at his stern, cold voice. Fuck, you’re really in trouble. Bucky likes to torture you a little...edge you, talk dirty, demean you...but he always ends up going soft on his girl before long. Sam is another story…

You can just imagine Bucky counting off your offenses on his fingers as he answers, “Talking back, whining, ignoring me, disobeying orders...the list goes on. She’s out of control today and she won’t use her words to tell me what’s wrong. So…”

“So…,” Sam echoes and you hear his footsteps as he approaches you. He stands over you, leaning one shoulder against the wall and looking down his nose at you. It takes all of your willpower to keep your eyes pointed at the blank wall. You can just make out his boots and jeans in the corner of your vision.

“What are you going to do with her?” he asks. He nudges your naked thigh with the tip of his boot and you let out a small squeak at his casual display of dominance.

“What do you suggest?” Bucky responds and he sounds closer although you hadn’t heard him move. Assassins…

Sam crouches down and regards you with a critical eye. He brings his hand up to your face and nudges his fingers against your lips, an unspoken command. You open for him at once and he plunges two fingers into your wet mouth, pressing down on your tongue and watching you salivate around them.

“She needs to be reminded of her place, Bucky,” Sam says dispassionately. He turns his attention back to you and asks, “You know this behavior is unacceptable, right?”

He shoves his fingers deeper into your mouth, nearly gagging you to emphasize his point. All you can do is nod your head, wide-eyed.

Sam sighs and takes his fingers back, wiping them on your cheeks and turning back to Bucky.

“See, she says she understands but if that’s true then it just makes her behavior even more disrespectful.”

You bite your lip to keep from saying anything to defend yourself, knowing you’d just be digging a deeper hole. Bucky was gone for two whole weeks on this last mission. How to explain the panic, the thought spirals, the shakiness you feel when he’s away? You need his firm hand to guide you now...you need him to take back control.

“She’s just doing it for attention,” Bucky explains and you burn at how close he is to the truth. “My little attention whore.”

Sam laughs and you hear a rustling sound followed by something soft and wet, and then a low, choked groan from Bucky. Oh god…

“If it’s attention she wants then you already know how to punish her…” Sam’s voice is deep and guttural. It’s the way he sounds when he’s looking at you like he wants to devour you. You imagine him looking at Bucky like that and the image starts heat pooling in your cunt. You squirm on the floor, desperately working to keep your eyes forward as Bucky moans again and you hear a loud thump. You imagine Sam pressing against Bucky, slamming him backward against the wall and grinding into his hips, their cocks straining through layers of fabric as he humps against him, all the while attacking his mouth with loud, sloppy kisses.

“Look at her,” Bucky huffs, sounding breathless, “...squirming and desperate just listening to us.”

“Mmm,” Sam murmurs between wet kisses. You hear Bucky gasp suddenly and you turn your head a fraction. You can just see the two of them entwined up against the wall now. Sam’s head immediately snaps up and he barks, “Eyes forward!”

You whip your head back around and feel yourself tingling all over as Sam keeps talking, “She really is a slut for this isn’t she?”

“You know she is,” Bucky answers with a laugh. “She’ll beg for it if we let her talk…”

“C’mere, doll,” Bucky suddenly addresses you and the sheer relief and affection that flows through you at being released from your corner is overwhelming. You turn and crawl on hands and knees towards the pair, looking up at Bucky with wide, innocent eyes--you never said manipulation was beneath you.

Sam snorts at your little display but Bucky goes predictably gooey and he gives you a warm smile as he pats your head with his metallic left hand, threading his fingers through your hair. You ignore Sam, leaning into Bucky’s touch with a little pleased mew.

“Man, she’s got you wrapped around her little finger,” Sam laughs, rolling his hips absentmindedly against Bucky and smirking at the super soldier’s hitched breath.

“Maybe…” Bucky admits. He gathers your hair into his fist and twists enough to elicit a wince as he continues, “but her punishment isn’t over yet.”

With that he pushes off the wall and leads you into the living room by your hair. You’re still on your hands and knees but arching upward in order to relieve the sharp pressure on your scalp. Bucky’s fingers flex and he loosens his grip a little to relieve the discomfort. That’s why he’s so perfect for you. In the middle of an intense scene he sends out these little life preservers to remind you how much he fucking adores you.

Bucky takes a seat on the couch, sprawling out with one arm along the back and his legs spread wide. He settles you on the floor between his knees and looks at you with lazy, hooded eyes. Sam sits down next to Bucky and rolls his eyes at how much space the guy is taking up. He nudges him with his hip so he can actually sit.

Bucky locks eyes with you as his hands move toward the waist of his jeans. He methodically undoes the button and lowers the zipper, reaching inside to finally free his straining erection. Your lips part involuntarily at the sight and you rock forward a bit but Bucky immediately shakes his head.

“Gimme your color, baby,” he says and his voice is serious, low, husky. It takes you a full minute to parse the words and find your answer.

You clear your throat a little before responding, “Green.”

“Good girl.” It’s Sam who says it and the split second of surprising warmth and approval from him affects you more than you’d thought possible.

Your eyes sting with unshed tears and you drop your head forward to nuzzle against Bucky’s knee, looking up at Sam to say, “I want to be good.”

Sam lets out a breath and shakes his head in disbelief, turning to Bucky, “Okay, I get it now. I see why you go so mushy for her.”

Bucky laughs and casually leans over to press a kiss to Sam’s lips, running his hand down the man’s chest and stomach, cupping his groin and smirking at the low groan that melts into the kiss.

“Please…” you whisper, reaching out to just graze your fingertips along the dripping head of Bucky’s cock.

Bucky grabs your wrist and you watch with hiccuping breath as the metallic fingers close around your delicate forearm. When he speaks his voice is mocking again, “You haven’t earned my cock, doll.”

You whine in distress and he tightens his hold on you just a fraction, his pouty lips thinning into a grim line as he warns, “Stop that. That attitude’s what got you here in the first place.”

He lets go of your hand only to seize you under your armpits and haul you up onto his lap. He settles you so that you’re straddling his muscular thigh. The fabric of his jeans brushes against your aching cunt and you can’t help but roll your hips, seeking more friction even as Sam gives you a withering look at your lack of self-control.

Bucky only smiles indulgently at you.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, baby,” he explains and his voice is suddenly hard. He brings his right hand up to your neck and wraps his fingers around your throat as he talks--just hinting at the pressure he could exert if he wanted to. “You’re gonna get yourself off on my thigh like the desperate little slut we know you are. No hands, no kissing, just you rubbing your sloppy pussy on my thigh. And Sam, here, is going to get to play with my cock because he hasn’t disrespected me and acted like a spoiled little brat all day. Is that clear?”

“Y-yellow,” you say and Bucky’s hand falls away from your neck at once. You crumble forward, burying your face into his chest and clutching his shirt in your hands as he rubs circles into your back.

“Should we stop?” Bucky whispers low into your ear. As much as you love playing with Sam, in these moments you’re entirely Bucky’s.

“N-no, I just need a minute,” you’re quick to answer. You can’t put into words how desperate you are to...atone...to prove yourself. And then, “I’m sorry I was bad.”

“Shhh,” Bucky hushes you and presses a soft kiss to your mouth. You’ll never get over how soft and delicious his lips are. “I love you.”

You smile into his chest and take a deep breath before sitting up again and meeting his eyes, “Okay. I’m good.”

“You sure?” Sam asks and you give him a little nod.

“Good,” Sam says. “Because once I’m done getting your man off, you’re getting on your knees for me.”

A broken moan falls from your lips at the image of you kneeling before Sam and taking him in your mouth. He reaches for Bucky’s cock and wraps his fingers around it, giving it a long, slow stroke.

“You better get going, baby. If you don’t come by the time I’m finished you’re not coming at all,” Bucky warns you and then laughs at the cry of distress you make.

You roll your hips eagerly, rubbing your soaking cunt against Bucky’s leg and blushing furiously at the mess you’re making of his pants. Bucky’s eyes flick between you and Sam. You can’t help but feel jealous when he leans his head on the back of the couch and turns to watch Sam with naked lust broadcasting from his eyes. But then he turns back to you and bounces his leg to give you more stimulation and you could almost cry with how much you love this man. Sam’s fist works furiously between Bucky’s legs and you can tell the man is trying to finish Bucky off before you have a chance to come. Sam’s a little sadistic like that.

You race toward your orgasm in a frenzy, not caring how desperate you must look, humping your lover’s leg while he takes his own pleasure with someone else. For his part, Bucky has let his head fall back and his eyes close as he moans with his approaching release. His right hand falls down to your hip and his fingers indent your soft flesh as he quakes with his orgasm. You feel the hot ribbons of cum spurt out and hit your thigh and you take advantage of both men’s distraction to increase your pace, frantically rubbing against the soaked fabric over Bucky’s thigh as you finally sob against the orgasm that shivers through you.

Bucky pulls you down and tucks you into his chest as he rains praise down on you.

“You were so good, baby. Such a good girl for me, aren’t you? I’m proud of you, baby.”

Sam reaches down to palm himself through the crotch of his pants and snorts, “She didn’t exactly follow the rules…”

Bucky shrugs and runs his hands up and down your ticklish sides causing you to giggle and squirm in his lap, “Ah, lay off, Sam. She did good.”

You hear the zip of Sam opening his fly as he replies, “She’s not done yet.”

A shiver runs down your spine at his words and you shuffle off of Bucky’s lap and onto the floor, kneeling between Sam’s legs and looking up at him with complete trust and obedience. You’re so deep into it right now. Sam looks down at you and smiles, running his hand through your hair as he takes out his thick cock. He guides you down onto it and you open your mouth, straining to keep your teeth away as he pushes inside of you. He lets you stop when you need to and you wrap your hands around the base of his cock as you start to suck and bob your head. Sam keeps his palm on the back of your head, a gentle force that reminds you who’s in control.

He’s not so into verbal praise as Bucky is when you do this for him, but the fierce moans from above let you know that he’s enjoying your attention. You let saliva pool in your mouth and dribble out onto your lips as you suck him off. Bucky shifts off of the couch and kneels on the floor behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle and whispering into your ear as you work.

“Look at you, on your knees for my friend, sucking his cock just to make me happy. You’re such a little slut for me. You’ll do anything, won’t you?” Bucky knows how much you get off on his dirty talk. He smirks as you moan an affirmative around Sam’s cock, squirming so your ass rubs against Bucky’s pelvis. “You little brat. Still trying to get my cock for yourself, aren’t you? Will you really let me do anything, then?”

He reaches down and swirls his finger around your delicate, puckered asshole. You let Sam’s cock slide out of your mouth with an obscene pop and you’re nodding your head furiously over your shoulder, “Yes, Bucky! I want it…”

“Cock slut,” Sam laughs and he leans back to watch as Bucky grabs the bottle of lube and starts prepping you. “You want all your holes filled up, don’t you?”

“Yes, Sam,” you answer with a gasp as Bucky slides one slick finger inside of you. He pumps it into a few times before adding another and you groan as he stretches you out.

“Okay, baby?” he asks, sounding breathless with anticipation. You can feel his already hardened dick bump against the backs of your legs as he fucks you with his fingers. You lean forward, clutching onto Sam’s knee for balance as Bucky opens you up.

“I’m good...I’m a good girl…,” you murmur, shutting your eyes and focusing on your breathing as Bucky pushes a third digit inside of you.

Sam has one hand around his cock and he reaches the other to pat your head as he says, “Yes, you are, baby.”

Bucky slips his fingers free and lathers his cock with lube, grabbing your hips and finally asking, “Ready?”

You’re on your hands and knees now and Sam sits forward so his cock is in your face, dripping precum onto your lips as you answer, “Ready.”

They enter you at the same time. You part your lips for Sam’s cock as he pushes back inside of you, taking more control this time and cradling your face in both his hands as he thrusts into your mouth. Bucky enters slowly, rubbing his hands into the small of your back as his cock fills you and stretches you to your limit. You cry out a little around Sam’s cock but you tap the floor twice with your hand to indicate to Bucky that you’re okay.

For all you’ve played together in the past you’ve never done this before, both men filling you up at once. Sam increases his pace, brutally fucking your throat as Bucky’s hips slap against your ass and you feel so deliciously full and used. You’re floating with the euphoria of it even as tears trickle from your eyes. Sam comes first. He pulls out at the last minute and shoots his load over your face, rubbing the head of his dick along your cheeks and lips and telling you what a good girl you were for him.

Bucky’s thrusts continue for another minute, his fingers digging into your hips and leaving bruises as he finally explodes inside you.

Afterwards they take you into the show and clean you off. You’ve gone mostly nonverbal at this point and you can only respond to Bucky in soft whispered monosyllables as he washes you and towels you off. They take you back to Bucky’s bedroom and cuddle up on either side of you as you drift off to sleep.

---

You wake up a little later and it’s only Bucky in bed with you. He’s still awake, looking at something on his phone and you snuggle up to his side with a contented sigh.

After a few minutes of silence you finally try to explain what had been bothering you earlier and causing your bad behavior. You worry when he’s away. Your anxiety takes over and you imagine horrible, impossible scenarios and there’s no one there to reel you in like Bucky does when he’s home. When he’d finally gotten home from the mission he’d had to leave almost immediately for a debrief and then he’d basically ignored you for a whole day because he was busy and...and you’d just needed him to be there for you and put you back under his control so you could let go of all of it.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Bucky finally says. “It’s been busy lately but it’s no excuse. I’ll make more time for you when I get back from missions…”

“‘M sorry, too,” you mumble and he tightens his arms around you and lays a kiss on your forehead.

“It’s alright. You were so good today. Let’s go to sleep…”

A/N: Well holy shit

Tags:

@watsonwise @1zashreena1 @theplumsoldier @i-the-hell-is-bvcky @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir @justrunamok @sabinemorans

#bucky barnes x sam wilson x reader #bucky barnes x sam wilson #bucky barnes x reader #sam wilson x reader #m x m x f #smut #chelsfic

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imaginesmai · 4 years

Text

Tom Holland - Fawn (6)

Get READY mobsty Tom is here! This is inspired by Don’t play with fire , @peaceisadirtyword. It’s an amazing Ivar fic, take a look if you have time!

Previous parts in the general summary. Click here to read the previous parts!

Plot: after knowing the truth about Richard’s implication in Dom’s accident, you feel like breathing some air. Tom is going to try everything in his power to make everything better, but there are problems coming your way.

Warnings: blood, death, guns and violence. Creepy behaviour, not from Richard.

“Y/N I’m so sorry”

“Tom, really, it’s –“

“No, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have told you” he rushed to explain again. “I just – needed to vent, because it has been a really difficult week. And I hadn’t – I’ve missed you. I didn’t want to worry you”

You stopped walking and Tom almost collided with your back. The busy street was as full as any Monday morning, if not even fuller. There were people running up and down, the centre of London buzzing with life. You had still a few chores to do, and after leaving the clothes in the laundry with a two hours program, you had the intention of fulfilling at least half of your task.

But the boy who had been apologizing since he left the laundry with you wasn’t making it any easier, as he was following you until you turned around. When you turned around to look at him, he had the knowing smirk on his lips. He crossed his arms and, even if you knew what he wanted was to apologise, he had a hint of mischief on his eyes.

“I’ve already told you it’s okay” you mimicked his pose. “Just overwhelmed for a second”

“I guess I’ll have to accompany you to make sure you don’t faint, or anything” he shrugged, the blush you had missed so much back.

“Boring tasks won’t overwhelm me” you chuckled. “But feel free to come along, if you don’t have anything thrilling to do”

You turned back and that time Tom walked besides you. Neither were dressed very formal, just a pair of friends that were doing daily chores. You wondered briefly if Richard would see you. His apartment was in the centre of London, and you didn’t really know if he was in there all day or got out. Either way, you were having conflicted feelings about the matter, and were sure that as soon as you closed your house’s door, you would be spiralling in thoughts about how he had lied to you.

Being with Tom seemed like a good solution to you, so you pushed yourself closer to him and excused the movement with the overcrowding streets of London, even if both you and your inner voice knew it wasn’t true.

Tom didn’t notice or didn’t want to, because he just kept walking at your pace.

“Doing chores with you can be a thrilling experience” Tom shrugged. “I can take you to a few places that might match bungee jumping”

“That doesn’t sound very legal, does it?” you teased him, knowing he was probably talking about the black market.

“Sometimes cops are involved, if that’s what you mean” Tom said, and you ignored the image of Richard. “Where are we going?”

“I have to buy some groceries, pick up two blueprints and I wanted to look a new jacket” you listed the things you thought were less embarrassing, because there was no way you were telling him that your next stop would be the pharmacy to buy pads. “Thrilling adventure, uh?”

“Can’t think of a better way to spend my Monday morning”

Besides noticing that Tom looked devilishly handsome and that his eyes had no right to be that beautiful, you noticed that it was the first time you did chores accompanied. Richard always said that doing chores was the worst thing he could think of, and you could count with one hand how many times he had asked you to buy something instead of going with you.

Your first stop was the supermarket. After picking up a cart with the excuse of Tom buying some other things, you took out your list of food you had written at home and showed it to him. It was pretty long, and it took him a while to read it; time you took to shamelessly check him out.

It was easy to forget that Tom was part of a mob, even more when he was out of the club. There you had the constant reminder of the gun on the hem of his trousers, and of his brothers in the VIP zone. On the supermarket, Tom seemed a different person. His hair had grown a little since you had seen him for the first time, not that buzzed but just straight short. He was more relaxed, or at least to you. And not having the pressure of being there because of Richard made you cherish the moment more.

Leaning against the cart and looking at the list with furrowed brows, Tom Holland was more human of what you had ever seen.

“This – what is this?” he pointed with his finger to a word, and the paper crumpled a little. You looked over his shoulder to where he was pointing.

“Uh, that’s carrots”

“No, here you can’t read carrots” he pointed again. “This is just some kind of electrogram with a slight upward tendency at the end”

You snorted a laugh and went back to walking, expecting Tom to follow you. He did, bending over the cart and with the list on his hand.

“I give you that you’re cute, fawn, but your handwriting is demoniac” Tom continued. “If I read all this out loud, no one assures me that a demon isn’t going to appear behind my back”

“You can try, but I’m not saving you if it does”

“Wow, that’s really rude of you” Tom pushed the cart until he was by your side again, and handed you the list. “Please don’t ever send me a letter”

“I can’t even send a message Tom”

It wasn’t your intention to send the hint, but if Tom took it and you got his number, you wouldn’t be the one complaining. You weren’t sure when the morning was over if you would see him again in the night, because Richard had yet to say if he wanted you to go. And if you didn’t have you, you wouldn’t. That didn’t mean you didn’t want to see Tom anymore.

“Yeah, we have to fix that” Tom commented as you stopped by the cereals aisle. “Give me your phone”

“I don’t know if you’re a stalker yet” you gave him a mocking side glance as you bent down to pick a box.

“Only one way to find out”

You took the cereal box out of its place and onto the cart, and gave Tom your unlocked phone. Not wanting him to see anything he shouldn’t see, like Richard’s conversation, you gave him the dialling up directly, and he tapped away. You entertained yourself meanwhile picking up two milk cartoons and leaving them in the cart.

You realized that you were nearly done, and that you didn’t want to leave just yet. But you could extend that much the supermarket and the homey look on Tom, so you decided to pick up the vegetables and leave for the next part.

Tom gave you back your phone and you were surprised to see that it was already locked; meaning he had put himself a contact name. Before you could ask what had it been, Tom was already on his way to pick up the carrots.

“You know what, I think it wasn’t that bad” Tom talked through the curtain. “I would erase the part where you unfolded the blueprints in the middle of the streets and they flew away, but I had a good time”

You rolled your eyes but chuckled anyway. You were running low on time before the machine on the laundry shop ended, but you still insisted on looking for your jacket. The green one was going to finally retire, and you needed one for the incoming spring. Tom had proposed several shops in where a piece of cloth costed more than a whole year earnings.

Tom had just given you a pointed glare, because probably for him money wasn’t tight, but you had insisted on going to your favourite shop anyway. It was close to the laundry shop, you didn’t have the constant pressure of finding Richard anymore, and besides it had the same jacket but with a different colour.

The jacket had been already brought, but you had seen a cute blue dress and Tom had seen you see it. Richard had never encouraged you to buy clothes, even less advised you while doing so. But Tom had thrown the dress to your arms and pushed you inside the dresser.

It was a long dress, not fit to go out to a club. With white flowers and a small opening on your right leg, the dress was longer from the back. It was crossed on the chest and with short sleeves. You weren’t sure what to think about it at first, but once you saw it on, you had to say it was beautiful.

You made a few turns and let the dress move around, and a silly smile formed on your face.

“Is it on?” Tom talked again, and you got out of your daydream. “I want to see it”

“Give a second”

Subconsciously, you fixed your hair in the mirror and checked for anything that could be wrong. It would be more than a few seconds, you were sure. You put on your white sneakers, eternally grateful that you had decided to shave your legs on Saturday, and tied them. They matched with the dress, and you couldn’t help making a few silly faces in the mirror.

Finally, you turned around and opened the curtains.

Tom wasn’t looking at you directly, but at somewhere in the shop. He had his eyebrows burrowed and the face you had seen in Dom’s the last time was back. It wasn’t for long, because as soon as he heard the curtain open, he turned around and pretended nothing was wrong. But you had already seen it, and for a moment you feared Jacob or Richard were there. Still gripping the curtain, you took a hesitant step forward and looked to the right.

There weren’t many people there, just the employees and a few people. Two woman, a group of men and some couples. You didn’t see anyone that deserved Tom’s worry, so you went back to your previous position and gave him a hesitant smile. He was already looking at you, with a small smile and a special shine on his eyes.

“What do you think?” you asked, moving your hips a little.

“It’s just – the dress is so you” Tom’s voice sounded a little rough. “It’s perfect, and it looks great on you. You’re… gorgeous, fawn”

“Thank you” you blushed and looked down to your feet.

“Maybe…” Tom raised his arm, and took a step forward. “Can I –“

You nodded and Tom stepped up until you could feel his breath on your face. It wasn’t necessary to be that close, but you didn’t complain. His hand hovered over your face until it raised a little, enough so that he could touch your hair. It fell all over when he took the rubbed band, and you were glad because at least covered your ears.

Tom didn’t stop there, but ducked your hair behind your ear. Tom seemed to be as nervous as you, because his fingers were warm. He left his hand close to your face.

“That’s better” he coughed out.

You should have moved away, because Tom wasn’t your boyfriend and because the laundry machines were probably nearly over. But neither of you attempted to do so. Tom’s hand rested on your cheek, his thumb nearing your mouth. Maybe it was you, but your inner voice was screaming that you were closer every second. Life around the shop seemed to keep going, but for you it stopped.

You knew that Richard would have accepted you sleeping with him if it meant valid information, and you didn’t feel an inch of your body that wanted to tear apart. Tom kept closing in, until your noses touched.

You were about to close your eyes when someone coughing made you both move away.

“Tommy”

You looked to the new voice, in fear some cop would be again ruining your time with Tom. You knew most of the cops in London, because of Richard, and the man who was smiling at you from the entrance of the fitting room wasn’t one.

He was chewing on a toothpick while leaning over the wall, his arms crossed. They were full of black dark hair, that matched the curly ‘dough’ on his head. If you had to rank him in your list of ‘gangster look’, he was on the top. He even had a short beard that looked nasty, and his eyes were exactly what you expected to see when you first met Tom.

The way he had said his name made Tom tense up.

“Didn’t expect you in seeing this kind of place” the man said, and you got the impression that he had a disgusting smell.

You noticed that the shop seemed to have emptied in a second, and the group of men that were looking at some jeans before were now eyeing you slightly. Tom didn’t answer and the man laughed, making his stomach move up and down. You knew there was something you didn’t know going on, and that it would be very beneficial for you to hurry the fuck up out of there.

But you were frozen in the spot. It had been a while since you had felt that way, probably since the first times Richard left you there alone for the first time. You tried to tell yourself that you had Tom, who surely wouldn’t leave you alone, because he had showed to be a much better man than Richard.

Your heart was already beating loud in your ears, and you clenched your hand around the fabric of the dress. It was colder than before.

“Why don’t you change, mh?”

Tom looked at you when he talked, and attempted to look comforting. But you knew that look, because he had given it to you when he had left you at Lisa’s house. His smile was tight and his hand urged you back into the fitting room. Tom’s eyes tried to say that everything was alright, but your mind was already on panicking mood.

He gave you a last smile and closed the curtain. You heard steps and hushed voices, meaning that Tom had walked out of the fitting rooms.

You quickly focused on your task. The dress would likely never be bought or even looked up, but you were decent enough to take off your shoes before taking it off. The laces messed themselves in between your fingers and your vision became blurry. You tugged at them until they finally came off, and you rushed to take off the dress.

It was the most difficult thing you had done in your life, because the cloth got tangled with your arms and you almost fell out on the floor. You collided with the walls and jumped a few times, until your head was free and you could breathe again. You left the dress on the bench and turned around to put on your jeans.

Only to be met by a completely new man who was staring at you in your underwear. In your struggling fit with the dress, you had missed the curtain opening and the man stepping in your personal space.

“Hey”

You only had time to grab the closest item and bring it close to your chest before being dragged out of the room by your forearm. It wasn’t gentle or nice, it was demanding and you were sure you would have bruises that night. You were too busy not planting your face on the ground that you couldn’t even scream, just whine and let a few tears finally roll down.

“Wait – please, I-I need –“ you tried to beg at least for your trousers, because you only had your underwear and a shirt clutched to your chest.

“Shut up, I’m not gonna hurt you Y/N” the guy hissed.

The surprise about him talking with such familiarity, as if you were part of the gang, left you stunned. It gave him the opportunity to drag you farther from the room. You tried to think if Tom had said your name when you were in the shop, but you only remembered him calling you fawn. You had thought it was a stupid nickname before, but it made you feel less guilty; because a fawn wouldn’t be doing to Tom what you were.

Suddenly any possibility of going back to the room to take your clothes vanished because you exited the fitting rooms and stepped into the shop. The rest of the group that had been badly pretending they weren’t with the bearded man were gone, and not even the shop assistants were there.

Everything passed rushing because the guy who was dragging seemed to be in a hurry, and because you were really, really close to bursting into tears. The grip on your arm seemed made of iron, and you kept stumbling with your own naked feet.

In a few seconds the man stopped walking and squeezed you by his side.

“That your girl, Tommy?” the man from before asked.

He had a nasty gash on his forehead and his voice sounded weird because of the heavy flow of his bloody nose, but other than that he still had the smug smirk.

Tom was in front of you, held by three guys while seeming more intimidating than ever. He had the skin rounding his eye red and puffy, and his eyebrow was open too; even if you hadn’t hear anything, it was obvious that there had been a fight between them. Other than that Tom looked fine, but really angry. It reminded you of an angry bull, that when set free would destroy everything in its path.

His eyes couldn’t hold the calm he wanted to attempt a moment before, when he had pushed you in the fitting room. Instead, from the back of his throat came something similar to a growl and he trashed. You weren’t aware of how strong Tom was until he moved and the three guys shook with him. One of them actually received an elbow to the chin, and at the same time you received a slap.

A small scream was all that left your lips as you were barrelling to the ground, which you hit pretty painfully.

“Stay the fuck still” the man who had slapped you threatened, and Tom stopped moving.

“Claudio –“

“That your girl, Tommy?” said Claudio asked again.

You rose to your knees with the shirt still covering your front, the tears running down your cheeks. You were scared, and if Richard came and screamed at you for being a scared fawn, you would take it. Because the police had to come, right?

Tom gritted his teeth but didn’t move. You were hoisted up by your forearm again, to the other man’s side. Claudio hummed and walked until he was in front of you again, confirming your hypothesis about his smell being disgusting. Your cheeks were squeezed between his fingers, painfully, and he shook your head like a rag.

“So this pretty thing isn’t yours?” Claudio raised a brow, and you didn’t dare to let the shirt fall to push him away. “Mh, that’s a shame”

“Then why don’t you fuck off?” Tom snarled, and you received another slap. You cried out that time, but you didn’t fell to the ground.

“Your voice is irritating me, Tommy. And I don’t have –“

Everything happened so fast that you weren’t sure what went first. Claudio was enjoying so much every tear that travelled down your cheek that didn’t hear the grunts, but you did. They were soft and quick, and then two bodies fell to the ground.

That got Claudio’s attention, who seemed to think better and decided that his time there was over. Two of the men that had been holding Tom were on the ground, blood oozing from their throats, and the third one was holding a gun for nothing. It fired and finally Claudio moved, so that you could see Tom.

There was blood, so much blood that it could have been his and you wouldn’t have known. The man pointed the gun to Tom as he was getting up from the floor, but he didn’t have time to shoot again. With a technique that you had only seen in films, Tom took the gun out of his grasp and shot him between the eyes.

The man made some strange spasming, not fully dead for a second until he fell against the wall. If the big stain of blood wasn’t enough, he created a thin line from where he fell down. You were pulled out of your own horror when Claudio pushed you in front of him. Tom was pointing at you, and you weren’t so sure that he wouldn’t shoot you to get to the guy.

Tom himself was a nightmare to look at. There was blood on his face, on his hands and on his clothes, and his eyes were as empty as the day at the club. He didn’t even flatter when you became the target, neither moved the gun.

“If you’re so brave to threaten me” Tom started, and his voice was as plain as paper. There was no hate, no anger or no frustration. Just Tom Holland, the leader of the mafia. “Don’t hide behind her, coward”

There had been a fourth man, the one that had dragged you out of the fitting room, but he was long gone. Claudio seemed to realize that he was alone, with Tom Holland, who had killed three of his men without any help. His options ran low and he did the first thing he thought of; throw you over a cloth rack while he ran.

You tripped with the coats that fell from it stumbled to the ground, as you heard steps running away. The whole thing crashed down and you were covered in clothes, not being able to move. The upper part hit you on the head while your feet got stuck with the lower, and you started to hyperventilate because you couldn’t see a thing.

There was no way to say if what you were hearing were police sirens or your own heartbeat, so you just closed your eyes. For a moment, you thought you were alone. If you had been with Richard, you would surely be, because he would be running behind the man to stop him from running away.

But you didn’t hear any more guns firing, neither more steps rushing by your side. A pair of hands helped you to push the clothes away, and when you were untangled, you were met with Tom’s eyes. You let out the first sob as he said the first apology of the day.

“I’m sorry – I’m so, so sorry”

Tom pushed you against his arms, and you wrapped yourself around him like a koala, staining his sweater with tears. You didn’t care about the blood or about the mess in the store, just pressed your face in the crook of his neck and cried. Tom’s hand shook as it made its way to the back of your head, pressing you farther into him, as if you were going to dissolve.

You were too busy crying on your own to notice Tom’s chocked cry, or how his grip on you was too tight to be just meant to comfort you. You didn’t know how long you were like that; you only know, how weird it was that the guy had known your name.

Want to know more about me? Here is my Masterlist! Feedback is always appreciated!!

Tom Holland/ Peter Parker taglist:

@delicately-important-trash

@lexxxistrips

@smilexcaptainx

@aikaterrina

@zalladane

@gypsystuf (since you didn’t answer me, I just put you on the general taglist. Let me know if you want to change!)

@nikkixostan

Tom Holland Fawn taglist:

@averyfosterthoughts

@killerqueenvibes

@spideylovin

@fantastic-fans

@addictofsupernatural

@americaswritings

@itsjusttor

@sunflxwer99

@dramione-winchester-mccall

@nicolettalauren

@coveredinthemessimade

@spideydobik

@runway-to-my-aid

@yeahimcrying

@herondale-snow-carstairs

@softstarkk

@atomicwinneralienhairdo

@watson-emma

@ifntelyinspirit

@himynameis-groot

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jinxandjingles · 4 years

Text

When the Day Met the Night (Blooming Performance)

As the music begins, Jinx and Caythaes stand facing each other, their hands clasped tightly between them as they stare adoringly into each other’s eyes. Their foreheads and noses brush so delicately, Jinx with his head tilted and back arched upwards towards the priest, and Caythaes curling over him as if he could pull him in simply by encompassing him fully. Jinx inhales, causing the lacey bosom of his dress to rise, and he sings, “When the moon fell in love with the sun….” Caythaes joins in to harmonize- “All was golden in the sky!” and then continues to finish the thought. “...All was golden when the day met the night.”

They break apart, their hands falling away between them as they step back from each other. Jinx crosses in front of Caythaes, taking precise, measured steps over to a picnic blanket set with white china teapot, edged in gold and decorated with pink floral print. Caythaes turns to watch him go, a soft smile on his face, his ears curled shyly as he presses a hand to his heart and sings, “When the sun found the moon, she was drinking tea in a garden under the green umbrella trees, in the middle of summer.”

Jinx settles down on the blanket as Caythaes sings, pouring himself a cup of tea and adding a few cubes of sugar. Though there are no umbrella trees to be found, a pink and white umbrella shades the demon hunter from the setting sun. He glances over at Caythaes with a measured sip of his cup before making a dramatic show of placing it down and curling his legs beneath himself. He croons softly with a lidded gaze and a little smile. "When the moon found the sun, he looked like he was barely hanging on~" He giggles, waving a hand toward the other male in a lovingly amused way at Caythaes’s state. His ponytail was a mess, his tie askew and suit jacket hung off one shoulder. Even his hat rested crookedly on his head. "But her eyes saved his life, in the middle of summer~"

Jinx lifts a hand to curl fingers under his chin before twisting his wrist to flick his arm outward in a broad sweep. Shimmering glitter follows the action, lighting little rainbows to bounce off various surfaces as his tones loft in an amused chorus. "In the middle of summer... All was golden in the sky~! All was golden when the day met the night~! Summer… All was golden in the sky~..."

Caythaes tilts his head back with a fondly lost look, harmonizing with Jinx. "All was golden when the day met the night~! Summer…" His voice drops to a slow cadence and his hand presses to his chest once more, eyes drifting closed. His free hand flicks out with a snap of warm light, causing more of those rainbows to flash about the space. "All was golden when the day met the night~"

Caythaes walks up to Jinx, a slight stagger in his steps, trying to make himself look a little more presentable by brushing hair from his face and straightening his vest. “So he said, "Would it be alright if we just sat and talked for a little while?” He leans lightly against the picnic umbrella, resting one arm against the top as he slips one hand into his pocket. “If in exchange for your time, I give you this smile?" The offered smile is a bit awkward, a bit shy, Caythaes’s ears curled down and his bottom lip caught in his teeth. There’s a shrug to his posture, just a hint of uncertainty despite how casually he leans.

Jinx watches, once more amused as Caythaes walks over to him, and bites his lip. He blushes demurely, smoothing out the wrinkles in his skirts, and peering up through his lashes. "So she said, "That's okay… As long as you can make a promise not to break my little heart-” Jinx presses a hand to his chest with a flutter of eyelashes. He gently pats the blanket next to him and took up his teacup once more, hiding the seeping blush of his cheeks behind the pretty china. “Or leave me all alone, in the summer~"

Caythaes presses a hand to his chest and swoons, throwing himself to the picnic blanket besides Jinx, propping himself up on one arm as he stretches out his legs. Jinx offers him an orange, and Caythaes takes it, sitting up and looking down as he starts to peel it. “Well, he was just hanging around, then he fell in love-” He glances up, shyly, then looks back down again, setting the orange peel aside. He breaks the fruit in half, offering it back to Jinx as he sings, “And he didn't know how, but he couldn't get out-” He shrugs, reaching a hand up to run it through his hair, knocking his top hat to the ground. He follows it shortly, arching backwards in a fall strong enough to send his feet flying into the air before they flop back to the ground. “Just hanging around, then he fell in love-!”

Pressing a hand to his lips, Jinx hides a giggle as he rises to his feet, pulling Caythaes up after him. “In the middle of summer, all was golden in the sky!” They step away from the blanket, Caythaes dipping into a bow as Jinx curtsies, then they twirl into a waltz. One of Caythaes’s arms wraps around the smaller male, pulling him close as he cups the small of Jinx’s back while the demon hunter rests a hand on his shoulder. They harmonize as they spin a circle across the stage, looking as if they only had eyes for each other. “All was golden when the day met the night.”

With a jubilant cry of “Summer!,” Caythaes swings to a halt, Jinx’s skirts swirling around his legs as he dips the demon hunter towards the ground. Jinx laughs as Caythaes pulls him back up and they continue to sing, “All was golden in the sky.” They resume twirling, the pair’s feet gliding effortlessly across the floor as they spin one direction, pause, then resume spinning in the other direction. “All was golden when the day met the night!”

As the word “Summer!” echoes around them, the pair spins in a tight circle, Jinx leaning further and further back until Caythaes simply sweeps him off his feet. His grip around Jinx’s waist holds the demon hunter to his side as Jinx kicks a foot into the air, sending the mass of his skirts blossoming upwards in the shape of a chrysanthemum flower. Caythes bows low as he continues to spin, letting Jinx and his voluminous skirts be the focus of attention as horns fill the air, then he sweeps Jinx back upwards, setting the demon hunter gently back on his delicate heels.

Jinx spins away as soon as he regains his footing, twirling to a stop just out of Caythae’s reach. Reaching back towards the priest, Jinx mimes a swoon, his back arching and knees dipping as he sighs, “When the moon fell in love with the sun…” He inhales, chest and shoulders rising as he flutters long eyelashes, one hand rising to press his knuckles lightly to his forehead. “All was golden in the sky!” Exhaling, Jinx melts from the swoon and turns to find Caythaes waiting for him, lips caught in his teeth and a soft smile on his face. “All was golden when the day met the night.”

They approach each other slowly, Caythaes with one arm tucked behind his back and the other outstretched, and Jinx with his arms held loosely at his sides, his shoulders leaned back and head tipped to the side. They move in a circle, spiraling towards each other step by step until they meet hip to hip, Jinx leaning lightly on Caythaes’s outstretched arm. His eyes slide closed, and Jinx rests his head on Caythaes’s shoulder, the priest immediately resting his cheek against the tiny demon hunter’s temple and curling his arm around Jinx’s waist. Lightly entwined, they spiral slowly, each stepped timed to a slow inhalation of breath.

As the music begins to speed up once more, Caythaes picks Jinx up again, holding him chest to chest as Jinx’s arms wrap around his neck for support. With Jinx’s feet curled up off the ground, Caythaes starts a slow spin, picking up speed until they’re twirling faster and faster, a blur of sparkling white and shimmering gold. The air around them goes hazy and soft as the song draws to a close, glimmering lights drifting from their twirling forms like fireflies blinking and dancing over a field. As voices sing “the middle of summer,” the words twisting and twining together in overlapping harmonies, Caythaes begins to slow, his knees bending as he lowers both himself and Jinx to the ground. When the singing trails off, they land in a spiral on the ground, their heads pillowed on each others’ hips and fingers tangled between them.

( Duet with @mekandawn )

#blooming #WRA RP #wra roleplay

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Paper Rings (Witney) - opalescentcheetah

A/N: To the anon who requested a fic with “Paper Rings” by Taylor Swift in it: here you go! This was so much fun to write, and I hope it was worth the wait!

Summary: “Courtney giggles quietly to herself, tucking the slip of paper into her pocket. There must be more of them hidden somewhere… Willam’s playing a game, and Courtney’s going to win it.”

Willam, 5:51 pm: play this song on ur way home xx

Courtney smiles to herself, sliding into the driver’s seat and hitting play. A steady beat fills the car, and she finds herself bobbing her head, humming wordlessly along as the second chorus starts playing.

“I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper rings

Uh huh, that’s right

Darling, you’re the one I want, and

I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this…”

Courtney is surprised to find the apartment empty when she arrives, the hallways eerily quiet and dark. She flicks a switch, flooding the entryway with golden light, and calls out for Willam.

The only reply she gets is the echo of her own tired voice.

She pulls out her phone, intending to text Willam, but finding instead that she received a message while she was driving home.

Willam, 6:04 pm: Out running errands. I left some stuff around the house that u should go look for ;)

Stuff? Courtney isn’t sure she has the patience for this, but she can’t say no to Willam.

Courtney, 6:08 pm: Ok. See you soon <3

If she can’t have a greeting kiss from Willam, then Courtney wants a drink. There’s a clear, empty glass on the bench that, curiously, doesn’t even seem to have been used – there aren’t any lipstick stains on the rim.

It takes her a moment to notice the small white object curled in the bottom of the glass. Tipping it into her palm, she finds a slip of paper, rolled and twisted into the shape of a ring.

Paper rings.

Courtney has known Willam long enough to know she’s planning something. She feels a small spark of excitement building in her chest, her exhaustion forgotten as she unravels the paper ring. Willam’s rough, quick letters are cramped into the small space, smudges of blue ink peppering the edge of the paper.

Remember that night when we first met? I was high as fuck and you were so unimpressed. Well, look where we are now!

She’s sixteen, in a foreign country, lost and alone in a world of people that already seem to know each other.

She misses Vanity. She misses Lisa and Jess, and even all the others that she didn’t know quite so well. At least she knew their names; here, she knows nothing about no-one.

That is, except for Alaska. Courtney’s not sure where she’d be without her. Alaska is like her Northern Star, guiding her through all the ins and outs of American high school.

“You’re still coming tonight, right?” Alaska drawls, rocking back in her chair. Courtney watches as she blows a blossom-pink bubble, hears the satisfying snap as it pops again.

“Yeah,” is all she manages.

“Are you nervous?”

It’s only been a week and Alaska already seems to know her inside-out. She shrugs, feigning nonchalance.

“I mean, a little bit, I guess… But it’s an opportunity to meet new people, so of course I’m going.”

“Good.” Alaska smiles at her, and Courtney feels a little more relaxed. “I want you to meet some of my other friends, and then we can all hang out together.”

The bell rings a moment later, and Alaska is the first to stand. “I’ll see you there!” she calls, waving cheerfully as she disappears into the swarm of unfamiliar faces.

Courtney waits outside, tugging nervously at her skirt as she waits for Alaska. She arrives in a whirlwind, linking her arm with Courtney’s and dragging her through the gate into the noise and electric lights. Courtney stumbles along, not quite sure where they’re going, but content to simply trail behind her.

“Sharon! Willam!” Alaska calls out over the din of other partygoers. Courtney follows her gaze to see two girls leaning languidly against a nearby wall. One raises her arm in a casual wave whilst the other stares lazily onwards, hardly moving a muscle. Alaska pulls Courtney to a halt before them, grinning brightly.

“You guys, meet Courtney. She’s new, from Australia. Courtney, this is Willam, and Sharon.” Alaska points to them in turn, and Courtney can only nod dizzily.

“From down undah, hey?” Willam queries, putting on a false, over-exaggerated Australian accent. “What’s it like coming from nowhere land?”

“Willam!” Sharon hisses, elbowing her sharply. “Don’t be rude.”

Willam just laughs, her movements slow and lethargic. Courtney doesn’t even need to look at the joint she raises to her lips to know she’s high. She chooses to ignore Willam, instead extending her hand to Sharon to shake.

“Don’t wanna pay me any attention, princess?” Willam asks, when it becomes clear Courtney isn’t going to offer her the same formality. She sticks her arm out, waggling her fingers in Courtney’s face.

Courtney bats her away, slightly exasperated. “Definitely not after that awful Australian accent,” she quips, feeling pleased when Alaska and Sharon promptly burst out laughing. Willam frowns, something flashing strangely in her eyes. Courtney looks away from the streaks of colour in her hair, watching as the smoke spirals up towards the moon.

Courtney giggles quietly to herself, tucking the slip of paper into her pocket. There must be more of them hidden somewhere… Willam’s playing a game, and Courtney’s going to win it.

She downs a glass of water as she considers where to look. Their apartment isn’t large, but there are countless nooks and crannies Willam could hide an inconspicuous paper ring in.

It takes several moments of drumming her fingers against the glass for her to realise that she’s still wearing her work clothes, her collar done up tight and stockings itchy against her legs. Upon deciding that a treasure hunt would be much more enjoyable in pajamas, Courtney wanders down the hall into the bedroom.

The sheets are immaculately made, and there’s a small pile of clothes sitting on the edge that Courtney soon realises are her pajamas. Usually, she’d leave them in a haphazard mess somewhere on the ground or on her pillow, and they would still be there when she returned home. Her heart fizzles with warmth when she realises Willam took the time to carefully fold each garment, creating a neat stack at the foot of the bed.

And, alas, there is the second paper ring, the crowning glory of the pajama pile. Courtney sinks onto the mattress, muscles relaxing as she unravels the second note.

Remember when I made you jump in the pool with me in the middle of winter? Alaska said it was cause you were so stupidly in love with me that you’d do anything I asked you to. I think I was a little bit stupidly in love with you, too.

Willam’s explosive splash sends water surging over the edge of the pool, spraying the cold stone and wetting Courtney’s feet. She shivers, standing in the brisk wintry breeze, pulling her jacket tighter around her shoulders.

It’s her first American winter, and Courtney is struggling to acclimate. She’s used to the warmer Australian weather, when she could wander around the school grounds with nothing but a jumper over her stiff school dress.

And yet, here’s Willam, leaping into her backyard pool in late November, when the trees have shed their leaves and the sky is crisp and cold. Courtney watches as her head breaks the water, the edges of her eyes crinkling in laughter. She looks gorgeous with her hair fanning out behind her, strands of blonde and pink and blue like the arms of a jellyfish.

“You two should come in!” Willam calls out, failing to hide how her teeth are chattering. “It’s real nice!”

Alaska scoffs beside Courtney, shooting Willam a withering look. “I wouldn’t trust you to run a business,” she comments, covering her smile with one hand. “You’d never sell anything when you’re that unconvincing.”

“You bitch,” Willam gasps, disappearing under the water again. Its surface ripples in the breeze, distorting the shape of her slender figure as she paddles to the pool’s edge. Courtney doesn’t take her eyes off of her as she surges up again, spraying water across the stone as she shakes her sodden hair out of her face.

“I’m convincing,” Willam promises, eyes darting over to meet Courtney’s. “You’ll come in, won’t you, Court? Show Alaska how nice it is for me.” She shoots her a winning smile, perfect teeth flashing in the winter sun, and Courtney forgets how to say no.

She can’t resist Willam. She hasn’t been able to for months now; seeing her always sends a rush of warmth through Courtney’s chest, like a swarm of butterflies with delicate wings tickling her ribcage. It makes her crazy, makes her want to see and touch and just be near Willam whenever she can. She’s not sure whether she loves or hates it; whether she wants to hug or to slap Alaska for forcing them to become friends.

Her body seems to move without command, stripping her of her jacket, her shirt, and her skin-tight blue jeans. She sees Alaska’s jaw drop, watches as Willam’s eyes light up in triumphant delight.

“Court…” Alaska’s voice is slow, the hint of a warning lacing her words. “Don’t be dumb… You’re gonna make yourself sick.”

Courtney’s standing at the edge of the pool now, icy water lapping at her bare toes. “Willam seems fine,” she replies simply, not giving herself a moment to reconsider before she plunges into the cold, blue depths.

‘Cold’ is an understatement, as Courtney soon discovers. The water is frigid, chilling her straight to her bones. Her limbs stiffen, momentarily frozen in shock, leaving her drifting deeper in a cloud of bubbles.

And then she sees a dark shape floating closer, a halo of gold hair around gaunt, elegant cheekbones.

Willam grabs Courtney’s hand in the water, sending that familiar rush of warmth through her body, and suddenly she remembers how to move. They kick upwards together, breaking into the crisp, clear air, and Courtney can breathe again. She feels a laugh bubble up inside her, giddy and warm despite the blueness of her lips.

“You’re both stupid,” Alaska tells them, shaking her head exasperatedly. “So, so stupid.”

And Courtney just giggles, happy to be here with her best friends, Willam’s arm pressed lightly against hers.

The next ring is in the bathroom.

Courtney finds it coiled around the faucet when she goes to use the toilet. Too excited to dry her hands properly, she unravels the slip of paper with damp fingers, smudges of blue coming away on her skin.

Remember our stupid fight? You were nice enough to take me home despite everything. I wanted to kiss you that night, but I was a pussy.

Courtney hasn’t talked to Willam in months.

She sees her at play rehearsal and in passing in the halls, but Willam never looks back. Her stormy eyes are always as cold and hard as steel, drilling holes in the ground with her gaze whenever Courtney is in her vicinity.

Watching Willam drift away was like losing a limb. The ghost sensation of her body beside Courtney’s was always there, pulling her deeper into its ethereal embrace and whispering cruel things in her ear. She can still feel it now, in the pounding of her heart whenever she sees Willam and the prickling of her skin when she brushes past.

Courtney would be a fool to pretend she didn’t know what was wrong. The musical the school had chosen to put on this year was one of Willam’s favourites, and when Courtney had snagged the lead role, Willam stormed off to wallow in her own jealousy. Courtney couldn’t believe Willam was stubborn enough to let such a meaningless situation worry her for so long, but at the same time, she herself didn’t know what to do about it. Willam wouldn’t do so much as look at her, not even when they were side-by-side on the stage, shivering under the scrutinising glare of their drama teacher.

“There,” Courtney gasps, pushing the last set board into the storage room. “That’s all of them, right?”

“Yep.” Bianca wipes her palms on her paint-splattered jeans. “Thanks for helping out.”

“My pleasure.” Courtney pauses, meeting Bianca’s hazelnut eyes. “How did you like the show?”

“How did I find it? Well, from the perspective of a crew member sitting backstage most of the time, you all sounded pretty good.”

Courtney visibly flushes, heat flooding her cheeks. “Shit, sorry. Stupid question.”

“Yeah, it was,” Bianca laughs, flashing her dimples. “Anyways, I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Courtney waves as Bianca disappears through the backstage door. The auditorium is eerily quiet now that she’s the only one there; the shadows beneath the seats seem darker, the fluorescent lights too bright. She throws on her jacket as she exits out the front of the school, the cool air immediately brushing goosebumps over her skin. A flash of movement catches her attention, and she’s shocked to find Willam there, leaning casually against the school gate as she waits in the dark. She doesn’t acknowledge Courtney, staring resolutely out into the night instead.

Courtney decides that it can’t hurt to at least try at conversation. She sidles up next to Willam, struggling to keep a cool façade. Sometimes she wonders how Willam does it.

“What are you still doing here?” Courtney’s voice hardly sounds like her own, delicate and soft, as though Willam’s a wild animal she’s scared of chasing off. She wonders, briefly, if Willam will even respond.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Willam shrugs briskly, eyes looking anywhere but at Courtney.

“My parents couldn’t come ’til a little later, so I helped the crew pack up.”

“Good for you,” Willam snaps, crossing her arms. Courtney doesn’t miss the goosebumps crawling across her skin or the way she shivers, curling in closer to herself. “My folks forgot about me.”

Pity pierces Courtney’s heart like a knife, and the words spill out before she can stop them. “Come home with me,” she blurts out, immediately wishing she hadn’t said anything. “I-I mean, it’s probably easier, since – since you live so far away and all. I, uh… you look cold.” She finishes lamely, twisting the hem of her jacket in her fingers.

It feels like an eternity before Willam finally replies. Courtney’s heart skips a beat when Willam looks at her again, meeting her eyes for the first time in months. “Are you sure?” is all she says, and Courtney’s immediately nodding, hardly able to believe what’s happening.

“I… uh, thanks.” Willam drops her gaze again and Courtney wants nothing more than to tilt her chin up, stare into those stormcloud eyes and tell her it’s all okay. But she keeps her words to herself instead, letting herself wonder what Willam might say if she told her how much she missed her.

Willam, 6:26 pm: You see a pattern yet? ;) ;)

A pattern? Courtney’s already noticed how the stories have been in chronological order, but she thought it might’ve just been coincidence.

Wait. No.

Willam’s trail of paper rings has followed her usual post-work routine. Get a drink. Get changed, use the bathroom.

Eat dinner.

The next ring is in the kitchen.

Courtney dashes down the hall as fast as her tired legs will allow, nearly slipping on the polished wood floors. She scans the countertop and their small dining table, even going so far as to check every chair, but there is no sign of a small white ring. The seconds tick by as she stands alone, breathing quietly in the wash of artificial gold light.

Think, Courtney. Dinner. Dinner…

“The fridge!” she gasps aloud, nearly knocking her hip on the counter in her haste to get there. Last night’s leftover Chinese is still stashed away, ready to be reheated and eaten again.

Sure enough, the ring is there, perched atop the Tupperware container. Courtney feels a spark of triumph when she sees it. She’s getting the hang of Willam’s little game, unspoken rules cementing themselves in her mind.

Remember that game of Spin the Bottle, when we accidentally went from friends to this? Fate knew what it was doing when it put you in my lap.

The music pounds through Courtney’s bones, tremors in the ground sending shivers of adrenaline through her veins. The empty bottle glints in the dim light, beckoning her, and she closes her fingers around it.

The exhilaration is palpable, burning through every fibre of her body and fizzling in the air. It might just be a stupid party game, but it feels to Courtney like a time of exploration. Like this might be a little taste of freedom.

“Spin it! Spin it!” Alaska starts a low chant, and soon the others are joining in until there is a chorus of voices pressing in on Courtney’s skin.

She spins, and the room falls silent, everyone’s eyes on the whirling bottle. Courtney waits with bated breath as it slows, and stops, the narrow end pointing like a compass needle straight at…

Willam.

Courtney’s breath hitches in her throat, heart pounding at her ribs as though it wants to be set free. Willam beckons her over, eyebrows quirked playfully, and Courtney wonders how she looks so calm. Every inch of her skin feels like it’s burning as she crawls across the circle to sit beside her, just close enough for their skin to brush.

“What, are you scared?” Willam teases, and Courtney hears someone snicker.

“O-Of course not.” She’s struggling to keep her voice steady, gaze flickering from Willam’s face to the ground and back again.

“Pussy,” Willam whispers as she leans in, and Courtney shivers despite Willam’s hot breath on her skin, every touch burning through Courtney’s flesh.

And then their lips are meeting, and Courtney forgets how to think. She can’t remember how long she’s wanted this for – this moment, with Willam’s fingertips lightly tracing her jawline and her mouth against Courtney’s, is the only thing that’s ever seemed to matter.

All too soon they’re breaking apart. Willam’s leaning back again, pressing her palms to the floor as she smirks at Courtney. “How was that?”

Courtney doesn’t know how to speak, her heart in her throat as she replays the kiss over and over again in her mind. “Good,” she manages, voice quiet, hardly able to meet Willam’s eyes. She feels like she might be dreaming.

“You suck, Willam,” Bianca laughs, snapping Courtney back to reality. “She’s not impressed at all!”

Willam scowls. “She said it was good, you bitch!”

“Yeah, ’cause she’s too nice to tell you otherwise!”

The rest of the circle erupts into shrieks of laughter, and Courtney feels her cheeks burn. She feels sorry for Willam, but she doesn’t have the words to tell her that it was probably one of the best things to ever happen to her.

So she says nothing at all, slinking wordlessly back to her side of the circle instead.

Courtney drives Willam home that night. Willam is uncharacteristically quiet, sitting with her arms folded as she stares out the window.

“Willam,” Courtney finally says, eyes still on the road. “Are you okay?”

She catches Willam’s shrug in her peripheral vision. A moment’s silence passes between them, Willam shifting quietly in her seat.

“Yeah,” she finally says. “I was just… thinking.”

“About what?” Courtney prompts her, pulling the car into a right-hand turn.

“The kiss. I… was it really that bad?”

Courtney is so startled she nearly swerves into the gutter. Swallowing back a gasp, she pulls over to park, twisting around to give Willam her full attention.

Willam’s frowning, toying with the hem of her skirt. “Wow. Way to say yes, Courtney.”

“I – no, I – uh, that’s not what I meant,” she stammers, hating to see Willam like this. “It was… it was actually really good. Like… really good.” She falters. Her words aren’t coming to her, slipping away like sand through her fingers. The truth feels like too much, but saying anything else doesn’t feel like enough.

She’s right – Willam hardly looks convinced. “You don’t need to lie, Courtney, I can take it,” she says, voice harder now, and Courtney worries she’s offended.

“Yeah, but, that’s the thing. I’m not lying,” Courtney insists. Why does this have to be so difficult?

She takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what she’s about to do. You can do this. You’re brave enough. She repeats the words over and over in her head, leaning across the console to take Willam’s hand. Blood is pounding in her ears as she rests her other hand against Willam’s neck, pulling her closer. Willam’s eyes flash in realisation and she leans closer without prompting, letting Courtney press their lips together again. This kiss is soft and careful, as fragile and delicate as a butterfly’s wing. Willam seems to melt into Courtney’s touch, muscles relaxing beneath warm, tanned skin.

“I love your kisses the most,” Courtney whispers against Willam’s mouth as they pull apart to breathe. She feels Willam draw back slightly, her fingers still absentmindedly tracing Courtney’s jawline.

“Then why were you so weird about it at the party?” Willam’s eyes are downcast, her voice hardly more than a whisper.

Guilt stabs at Courtney’s chest. She fumbles for her words, the silence pressing heavily in on her. “I…” She doesn’t know how to say it, but knows that she should. “I really, really like you, Willam.”

She’s settled for something simple, and it does the job. Willam rears backwards as though she’s been slapped, her eyes flaring wide open in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah, really really really,” Courtney manages to giggle despite her thundering heart.

“No, I mean, I – are you serious?”

“Of course I’m serious, you idiot.” Courtney’s gaze is locked on Willam’s, her fingers tangling gently in Willam’s cascading curls. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Willam just shakes her head, and Courtney doesn’t miss the wonder in her eyes. “Can… can I kiss you again?” she whispers, pulling Courtney closer before she even gets the chance to nod. Their lips collide roughly, teeth clicking together, but Courtney thinks it’s perfect.

“I really like you, too,” Willam gasps between kisses. “Really, really, really.”

Courtney’s silent, too caught up in Willam’s lips to respond. She lets months of desperate, bottled-up feeling release themselves against Willam’s touch, wordlessly showing Willam how her confession made her heart skip faster, heat spreading through her skin like honey.

She doesn’t know how long they sit there for, tangled up in each other. Courtney feels warm and soft, like kissing Willam has washed her clean, made her new.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” Willam asks softly against her cheek, and Courtney wonders how she ever got to be so lucky.

Remember the road trip we went on, when I asked if we might be forever? I’m no poet, but I remember how the setting sun turned your hair to fire and I wondered how someone could look so beautiful.

They’re sitting on the roof of the car, fingers interlocked as they stare out over the ocean. The trees whisper in the twilight breeze, cicadas chirping from their branches, but Courtney hardly notices. She only wants to think about Willam, sitting comfortably beside her, her head resting on Courtney’s shoulder.

The sun is casting orange streaks across the water and turning the clouds to wisps of flame. This sunset feels different somehow; more special. Maybe it’s the endless tangerine sky. Maybe it’s Willam.

“Courtney,” Willam murmurs suddenly, “do you think we could last forever?”

Courtney, taken aback by her unusual softness, twists around to face her. Willam pulls herself upright, eyes on Courtney’s face.

“I…” Courtney takes a moment, sifting carefully through her words. “I’d like us to.”

“So would I,” Willam agrees quietly.

A beat of silence hovers between them. Courtney traces her thumb over Willam’s knuckles.

“I love you, Willam,” she says finally.

It’s a gentle confession, as light as a butterfly landing on Willam’s nose. She smiles like Courtney’s just kissed her, eyes lighting up like a torch in the dark.

“I love you too, Courtney.”

Remember when we first moved in and you made me breakfast? It was perfect, and that Monday felt a little less awful.

Courtney’s awake with the sunrise, standing in the dove-grey light of the kitchen as breakfast fizzles on the stove. The morning is dreamy and soft, and the house is warm despite the frost bordering the windowpanes. The kitchen still feels homely, and the silence is heavy and comfortable despite her lack of company. She knows Willam is just down the hall, rolled up in a nest of blankets with her hair spilling out in golden waves onto her pillow.

The image makes Courtney smile as she cooks the bacon. She’s not used to preparing meat, as she never eats it, but Willam makes strange things worth it.

The calm that surrounds her is immediately shattered by a series of crashing sounds followed by a chain of expletives. Courtney whirls around in time to see Willam staggering down the hallway, her pajama shirt sliding down one shoulder.

“Fucking hell. Courtney? …Oh, there you are.” Wandering closer, Willam wraps her arms around Courtney’s waist, pressing a gentle kiss to her neck.

“What just happened?” Courtney asks, running delicate fingers through Willam’s messy curls.

“I fell off the fucking bed.” Willam’s voice is still thick and raspy with sleep. “Right before my alarm was gonna go off.”

“Oh my god, you’re so stupid.”

“You’re stupid,” Willam retorts affectionately, pulling herself back upright. “What were you doing, anyways?”

“Making breakfast.” The bacon’s done now; Courtney shuts the flame off, piling the strips of meat onto a plate. “There. For you.”

The smile that lights up Willam’s eyes sends warm honey flowing through Courtney’s veins. She presses a kiss to Willam’s cheek before handing her a set of cutlery. “Enjoy. Coffee’ll be ready in a tick.”

Willam doesn’t move for several moments, standing in the kitchen watching Courtney work. “You’re amazing,” she finally says, sounding awestruck. “So fucking amazing.”

Courtney giggles as a rosy blush tints her cheeks. “Just go eat,” she says, pouring the coffee. She adds the milk carefully, determined to make this exactly the way Willam likes it.

“Is it okay?” she asks tentatively as she sets the coffee down. The bacon isn’t perfect, and she knows it – it’s a little crisp and burnt around the edges. She just needs to know if it’s edible.

“I love it,” Willam replies, her tired eyes bright, and Courtney’s face relaxes into a smile.

The next ring is a command.

There aren’t any more memories of their early days together. Instead, there are six short words.

Go back to where we confessed.

Courtney steps outside and the light flickers on, casting the shadows of distracted moths across the stone. The car is hardly more than a silhouette in the driveway, lumpy and distorted and strange. Upbeat music starts playing as she waits, briefly, for her eyes to adjust.

“The moon is high

Like your friends were the night that we first met

Went home and tried to stalk you on the internet

Now I’ve read all of the books beside your bed…”

The song is familiar, the ride home from work echoing back in Courtney’s mind as she approaches the car.

And there’s Willam, sitting cross-legged on the roof. She looks gorgeous in the moonlight, her skin lit up with silver, and Courtney’s breath hitches in her throat. She’s stunning, and Courtney’s overjoyed to see her. Willam fiddles with her hands in her lap, reaching up to gingerly tuck a strand of starlit hair behind her ear.

“Hey, Courtney.” She slides off the car, heels clicking gently on the stone as she stands and presses a gentle kiss to Courtney’s cheek. “Did you like the rings?” Her grin is playful, but Courtney doesn’t miss the nervousness in her eyes.

“Loved them,” Courtney replies, sliding her arms around Willam’s waist and pulling her close. “But I still love you more.” Her lips graze the edge of Willam’s mouth, and she feels Willam’s breathy sigh on her skin, her back stiffening beneath Courtney’s touch. Standing straight again, Courtney meets Willam’s eyes, holding her gaze for a moment. “What are we doing out here, anyways?” she asks, poking Willam’s cheek. “I know you’re planning something.”

“You’re so daft,” Willam tells her, arms around her shoulders. “I thought it would be obvious.”

“You brought me back through memories that defined our relationship,” Courtney murmurs wistfully, eyes darting towards the car. “Are you going to take me back to all the special places too?”

“I mean, that’s a good idea, but – Courtney, did you even listen to the song?”

Courtney pouts. “You know I suck at remembering lyrics.”

“Okay, yeah, not gonna lie – you really do.” Willam lets out a fraught giggle, and Courtney wonders why she’s acting so strange. She seems stiff, worried – not quite the easygoing person Courtney’s come to love. They stand quietly for a moment, and Courtney hunts for clues in Willam’s features, surrounded only by Taylor Swift’s light, cheerful voice reaching the song’s chorus.

“I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper rings

Uh huh, that’s right

Darling, you’re the one I want…”

It hits her just as Willam steps back and drops to one knee. There’s a small, black box in her palm, and she opens it as she raises it towards Courtney.

“Let me make tonight the next step for us,” she begins, and Courtney can only stand and stare at her through blurring eyes, her mind struggling to process what’s happening.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Willam continues, her voice choking up with emotion, and Courtney can see the tears glistening silver at the corners of her eyes. “I want to go through the rest of my life with you beside me. I want this to be our symbol of forever. Will you marry me, Courtney?”

Courtney’s voice is shaky, throat rasping with emotion as she responds. “Yes,” she gasps, smiling so wide her cheeks start to ache. Cool silver brushes her skin as Willam slides the ring onto her finger, and then she’s squealing in delight as Willam tackles her, picking her up and spinning her around.

“I love you, Willam,” Courtney whispers as Willam puts her down again, their bodies close as they stand, entangled in the moonlight. “I love you so, so much.”

Willam doesn’t respond, instead pressing her lips to Courtney’s. The kiss is salty with joyous tears, and Courtney feels electric, her body warm despite the cool breeze. The music is still playing in the background, steady rhythms humming through the perfect night.

“Kiss me once ’cause I know you had a long night

Kiss me twice ’cause it’s gonna be alright

Three times ’cause you waited your whole life…”

#rpdr fanfiction #courtney act #willam belli #alaska thunderfuck #bianca del rio #witney #fluff #lesbian au #tw minor drug use #concrit welcome #submission #cheetah

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