#filthy impetuous souls
Text
𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗧𝗛𝗬, 𝗜𝗠𝗣𝗘𝗧𝗨𝗢𝗨𝗦 𝗦𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗦
summary: After what you assumed would be a successful mission, things veer off-course and you're stuck with Bucky Barnes in Istanbul with no way out until morning. The tension between you comes to head and nothing will be the same again.
parings: Protective!Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Sniper!Agent!Curvy!F!Reader
word count: 6.5K
warnings: enemies to lovers, angst, canon-level violence with just a bit more blood, guns, reader is a sniper/sharp-shooter, hate-making out, degradation, fighting, insults and cursing, teasing/banter, reader and bucky don't know how to talk about their feelings (or to eachother), spanking, doggy, angry-horny, rough-ish sex, pent up anger, pent up sexual tension, power dynamics, protective!Bucky, vague hinting to Bucky's PTSD, no use of y/n, reader is tagged as curvy and is described as such but body description is kept to a minimum
a/n: this work is for @targaryenvampireslayer's Blind Date Writing Challenge! My prompts were "enemies to lovers" and "Again! Please, again!"
I am incredibly thankful to Suz for letting me participate. I haven't been able to participate in a challenge since forever ago 😅
ALSO! This is my first time writing enemies to lovers, as well as curvy!reader! even though i'm curvy myself, i hope i did okay ♥
This work is not beta-read. all mistakes are my own. If any mistake is glaringly obvious, please feel free to message me and let me know!
p.s. I listened to a lot of PVRIS + Nothing But Thieves writing this, can ya tell?
p.p.s. the amount of willpower and struggle with my muse it took to finish this is... a lot. i think she scratched my cornea at some point.
If I’ve missed any tags, PLEASE let me know!
gif by @unearthlydust | dividers by @cafekitsune | warning banner by me ♥
my ao3 | my masterlist
title from: You Know Me Too Well by Nothing But Thieves
Read this fic HERE on ao3!
♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥
𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚
Bucky Barnes has always hated you, and you have always hated Bucky Barnes. At least since you first met, that is.
Being the newest recruit– and only sharp-shooter– to grace the S.H.I.E.L.D. Direct Action Team’s roster since signing on the Sergeant James “Bucky” Barnes, the hostility was almost immediate from the second you walked in your first day.
You couldn’t help cringing– which would be quickly followed by raging annoyance and a slight migraine– without remembering your first time training with Bucky. He made it crystal clear he didn’t trust your previous experience or trainers, let alone your sniper training. Within the first week he ground your spirit into dust with his leather combat boots, quashing any attempts to defend yourself. And it’s not like you weren’t familiar with his history, either; he’d broken every single last sharp-shooter that came to the team before you, a hardass ex-assassin with an introverted mean streak who happened one of the top snipers in the United States Army during World War II. Old dogs certainly can learn new tricks, though, and it was extremely apparent when it came to Bucky Barnes.
When you finally had enough midway through the third week, you snapped at him after he corrected you for the umpteenth time on your foot positioning, pointedly informing him you weren’t built like you could take on a goddamned semi-truck with one hand.
Once you finished, he silently handed you a pistol and challenged you to a shoot off. One-handed. You considered it a tie. Tony considered the training range off-limits until he got government permission via S.H.I.E.L.D. to replace every single shooting target and torso dummy in the compound– including the extras.
After that, the two of you weren’t allowed in the gym, on the same mode of transportation, in the infirmary, or the training range without someone else to supervise with a tranquilizer gun at the ready and within arm’s reach of said supervisor. More often than not, though, the ‘someone else’ was either Steve or Natasha– depending who won the coin toss before training that day– and the tranquilizer gun wasn’t really more of a tranquilizer gun than it was a slight sedative to calm each of you down enough for either Steve, or Nat, to drag you out without kicking and screaming at each other. Granted, it only happened one time– a workout competition-turned-sparring match that lasted the better part of four hours– but everyone else agreed to keep it around. Just in case.
You learned, however, exactly how much ketamine it took to down a raging super soldier with a vibranium arm. You couldn’t help but make horse whinnies under your breath every time you passed Bucky in the compound for at least a week.
With a year of domestic missions underneath your belt, S.H.I.E.L.D. constituted you ready to travel with the DA Team on international missions and operations. You were elated, excited to prove your worth and wit to everyone; especially Bucky, because maybe then he’d be at least keen enough to start showing you a drop of respect.
Then there was the fallout of when you both learned you’d be sent on the next mission. Together. Albeit with Natasha and Clint– but together.
Fury said he didn’t have a choice. Tony claimed it was out of his hands. Natasha, while protecting a cowering Steve from the flames and daggers shooting out of yours and Bucky’s glares, flat out told you, “either you both learn to work together, or neither of you are working DA missions again,” adding, with gritted teeth and a pinched bridge, “The whole team thinks you’re a fucking pair of walking time bombs. I don’t wanna use the damn ketamine gun again.”
The next thing you knew, you were on a plane to Turkey with your rifle, wits, and the waiting promise of separate hotel rooms upon arrival.
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A reddened sun dipped over the Istanbul skyline, swathing the city in shadows. Dusk was imminent as you ascended the rusted fire escape and stepped onto the roof of the abandoned building; the dilapidated outside was perfect enough to designate it as the main stake out location. You sighed in awe at the view, catching the remnants of the sunset while pausing for a brief break before switching into ‘work mode.’
“Stop fuckin’ around, get into position,” Bucky said through your ear piece. Shit. You forgot he could see your video feed via the harness crossing over your chest and the cameras Natasha set up on the roof and the building next door.
“Sorry, Sarge, thought I’d enjoy the view before I dome some fuckin’ war criminal from a thousand yards away,” you huffed. The line went silent, save from what sounded like very faint cursing amidst the static. You rolled your eyes, swinging the gun bag off your back, unpacking and assembling and loading, preparing for working on yet another thrilling Saturday night.
You silently prayed the hotel had a decent bar with decent hours.
Dropping into a prone position, you were thankful for the custom-fit tac suit that hugged your body as your hips and thighs scraped against debris littering the roof as you positioned the scope of your rifle, placing your hand delicately on the trigger.
“In position,” you muttered, adjusting into a more comfortable, ready-to-bail position in case things went south. When you shot prone, it felt as if the mission at hand weighed just a bit heavier than others. More unbearable. The tactical suit and additional weapons attached to your aching body rivaled that of cinder blocks chained to your legs, weighing you down to the ocean floor in an attempted drowning while you tried to stay above water.
It's never gotten easier, but it's never been harder.
The past two days had been filled with inconsistent sleep, hiding out, and keeping watch, all while under the watchful eye of Bucky. Bucky, who was watching you from inside the stakeout building, who threw a super soldier temper tantrum about having to figure out the ‘nonsensical logistics’ of how to stream a fucking live video feed, who barely bothered to say a word to you while meeting Natasha at the location that morning– aside from graciously allowing you to borrow his weapons cleaning kit.
“You didn’t bring your own?” He cocked a judgmental brow at you, looking you up and down like a creature that crawled out of the Black Lagoon. Steely sea-blue eyes met yours, sharp and bright. Challenging. The collar of your tactical suit had instantly tightened.
“Figured we both use the same stuff, might as well bring the one to save space,” you shrugged, cocking a hip.
Bucky’s eyes flitted to your pronounced curve before you straightened, swallowing.
“Fine. Go nuts,” he sighed reluctantly, gesturing for you to sit in the guarded seat across from him. You sensed his piercing gaze follow you, feeling the same heat creep up your neck and cheeks just like all the other times he watched you. You chocked it up to an intimidation tactic, because it sure as hell worked.
You shook Bucky out of your brain. You needed to stay focused.
“Copy. Target is en route to position, t-minus two minutes. Make it clean and make it quick.” Natasha's voice was cool, calming you and the usual racing thoughts in your head during these types of missions. You preferred her over anyone else to be your spotter since your first time out in the field, but this time she was assigned to be the plant, luring the target away from the rather innocent party-goers so they wouldn’t be splattered with brain matter and skull fragments courtesy of you.
Though, you had to admit, in the right scenarios, that was one of the more satisfying things that came with being a sniper.
“Don’t fuckin’ rush it,” Bucky chimed in.
You rolled your eyes, ignoring him. “Copy, Nat, just keep dangling the carrot.”
“You know I’ll do more than that. Out.” You could hear her wink.
Two minutes might not seem like much, but missions like these can make it feel like a lifetime. Part of you hoped Bucky watched every second. The other half hoped you could smack the doubtful smirk off his stubble-ridden face– the same exact one he had whenever he watched you train. It was like he wanted you to fail. Like he was expecting it, anticipating it.
You pinched your wrist. Now was not the fucking time.
You brought the scope closer to your face, targeting the window Natasha would be bringing the target in front of. The crosshairs helped even out the scene while you lined up the shot right between the bedroom’s curtains. You readied yourself, focusing on breathing and controlling the rise and fall of your chest, steadying your bottom half. You blinked, then, and through the sights you spotted the golden shimmer of Natasha’s dress reflecting off the room’s low lighting. Finger on the trigger, delicately squeezing as the target’s head entered into the crosshairs, stepping unknowingly into the middle of your aim, mere seconds left to live, left until he rots in his deserved place in hell.
Exhale. Inhale. Hold. Pull.
The target dropped in mere milliseconds as the shot reverberated throughout your body, the sound thankfully muffled by your ear pieces and the silencer. The recoil of the rifle dug into your shoulder, fighting against the rest of your body anchored by stiffened muscles. You exhaled, shaky, still, pushing the scope from your face and resting your head on the cool metal of the stock, allowing it to sear into your burning forehead.
“Confirmed kill. Target down. Meet you back at the hotel, over,” Natasha’s breathless voice crackled into your ear.
“Copy. On my way down. Bucky do you–”
White hot pain suddenly seared through the back of your skull, slamming you face-first into your rifle. You clutched the back of your head, whipping around to be greeted by the dark void of a gun barrel. You froze, blood draining from your face, stomach free-falling as your gaze traveled up to meet crazed eyes and a twisted face. The man– your assaulter– was clad in black with hints of a tattoo running up his neck like blackened veins. No doubt the symbols hidden under his collar belonged to the syndicate run by his boss. The boss you just killed.
He snarled, yellowed teeth glistening in a maniacal grin. “You’re going to pay for that, little bitch,” he spat and nodded to your rifle as he shoved the barrel in your face. The metal practically branded you like marking a cattle for slaughter.
“Try me, prick,” you gritted through ringing pain and a locked jaw, snarling at the man as you rose, slowly, the barrel unmoving as the gun followed your position.
His grin widened. He began pushing you backwards towards the edge of the roof. Quickly, you kicked your foot out, catching his ankle and grabbing his wrist, pointing the gun at the darkened sky as you clawed at his fingers to release it from his grasp. A deafening shot rang out as you wrestled, sending an elbow straight into your jaw that shoved you away. He aimed for you again as you pulled a knife from your waistband, hurling it at any limb you could hit. It nailed him in his thigh, deep enough you knew it hit bone. He dropped the pistol in favor of his leg, allowing you enough of a break to kick the gun off the roof, sliding it off the opposite edge and down the fire escape.
You stood. You noticed the flicker, the fire, in the man’s eyes as it raged, burning brighter than the streetlights below. He yelled as he lunged, knocking you down again. Hard. Lungs deflated, pain seared through your spine, leaving you sputtering and gasping, grasping desperately for anything: his arms, his legs, your knife, your knife in his leg. Your head spun from the impact, rage and bile boiling in your stomach as arms and legs kicked and thrashed. The man grabbed you by your hair as if to scalp you, limping his way to the edge of the roof, dragging you along inch by inch. You deadened, going limp, hoping to make it that much harder for him to drag you with a knife in his fucking femur. Your stomach dropped as the wind picked up and the distance from the fire escape grew farther away. You knew what was in store: a five-story drop onto the hard street below.
With impressive strength for a man who was actively bleeding out– and bleeding all over you– he swung you around by the fistful of hair in his hands, dangling your bottom half off the edge of the roof. You fought the panic beginning to set in, thrashing your feet around in an attempt to find some sort of foothold as your hands scrambled to grip the ledge. To add insult to injury, he slammed your head down, skull and jaw dropping with a dizzying thump. A gruff laugh erupted from his chest, and he spat at you. You glanced hesitantly over your shoulder. The world stretched and morphed the longer you looked; your eyes saw a fifty-foot drop while your brain saw a thousand foot death sentence. You willed your sore neck to turn back to the man, only to fight the scream that bubbled up your throat at the sight of a miniature pistol pointed execution-style at you. You ceased any movement, eyes widening, grip tightening on the inch-thick ledge of the roof that held you from becoming a human pancake.
“Looks like you’ll pay after all, bitch!” He grinned, cocking the pistol and preparing to fire. As he squeezed the trigger, as you squeezed your eyes shut, there’s a muffled shot, and then a warm, oozing feeling running down your face and neck. Hesitantly, you opened your eyes, greeted by the sight of the man’s jaw slackened as his eyes began to roll back in his skull. A singular bullet wound centered on his forehead leaked brain and blood and bits of bone. He’s shoved over, body falling like a rag doll and spilling onto the roof. He’s quickly replaced by a seething, panting Bucky with a pistol pointed where your would-be-killer stood. Your eyes widened as your chest constricted, fingertips grinding against the edge as your arms burned and begged to be pulled to solid ground. He lowers the gun, lips parted, eyes boring into your soul like he’s seen a ghost.
“Sar–Bucky, I’m fuckin’ slipping here!” you yelled as your left hand began to give way to gravity. The entirely reasonable request seemed to piss him off even more as he cursed, dropping his gun and grabbing harshly onto your arms, yanking you back up. He dropped you onto the roof in a heap. While your muscles screamed and you hacked up your lungs trying to regain normal oxygen levels, the annoyance you harbored for Bucky returned just as quickly as the gratefulness you had for his rescue faded once he turned his back on you, heading to the fire escape.
“Thanks, Bucky, but Jesus fucking–”
He whipped around, blue eyes flashing crimson– a warning sign to choose your next words extremely carefully.
“Clean up n’ get the fuck down. I’m leaving with or without you in ten fucking minutes,” he seethed, fists clenching onto the fire escape bars. You winced at the groaning sound the metal emitted as he bent it out of place, imprinting his palm prints into the bars.
“Bucky, I– What do–” you stuttered. Thoughts were racing as you looked between him and your would-be murderer decaying in his own drying blood a few feet away. You looked back at him. His eyes, swimming with something unrecognizable, mixed with fear and anger plaguing his features– like he remembered something so vivid, so real, that he was reliving it again.
“Just,” he turns his back to you, voice shaking, “get down here.”
He disappeared, leaving you to clean up the mess.
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The back alleyway was lit with a single, softly glowing flood light that led out to the busy streets. Bucky, who was already waiting for you with a furiously tapping foot, surveilled you with a stuck-snarling lip as you jumped down from the fire escape. The gilded plates in his hand leading up under his sleeve glinted with the violet-tinted vibranium.
There's a moment, a beat, shared between you as you stood to look at him. You stared at one another, gazes unwavering and refusing to break, to blink. The shadows surrounding you began to move as if they were dancing on Bucky's face, sharpening his jaw, his features. He stayed on you, eyes flitting ever-so-slightly over your form.
Your face burned.
Bucky cleared his throat. “Take a fuckin’ picture why don’t ya?”
You rolled your eyes. “Could say th’same for you.”
He grumbled something– probably cursing you– under his breath. As he opened his mouth to hurl an insult your way, both your phones pinged.
♦ Natasha: Taking last flight out of IST. Jet coming early AM. Lay low. Don’t kill each other. Please. Talk soon.
You swallowed a groan.
“Fuckin’ great,” Bucky muttered, loud enough for you to hear.
“Uh, okay. Fuck you, too, then,” you shot at him defensively. Knee-jerk reaction. Pinching the bridge of your nose and kicking yourself, you dropped the subject. Not the fight you wanted to pick at that moment. “Let’s– let's just call a cab and get to the hotel.”
“No. I have a bike. And we’re going to a safehouse.”
“Bucky, it's dark enough, my bag is–”
Suddenly, he was much closer than a mere second before, backing you up against the wall of the stakeout building. He beat you in height by a decent amount, but him towering over you really put it in perspective. His broad shoulders heaved, vibranium arm whirring in overdrive as he jabbed a plated finger at you, his face inches from yours.
“I. Don't. Fucking. Care,” he stabbed each word into your sternum. “Bike’s down at the other end of the block. We're taking it, or you can fuckin’ walk. Doesn't matter to me.”
You wanted to take his finger and break it.
You glared, focus shifting between his startlingly bright blue eyes and the strange closeness of his face to yours. It was like you were seeing him– like, actually seeing him– for the first time in high definition. All of his details– the small scars by his hairline, the slight crookedness of his nose, crow’s feet and worry lines beginning to etch themselves into his skin, the indent between his brows– overwhelmed you as your eyes darted all over his face. You snapped back to his glare and were suddenly very conscious of your own facial expression that failed to rival his. You set your jaw and furrowed your brow.
You doubted it was convincing.
“Fine.”
He stepped back and started striding down the alleyway with you at his heels. Your grip on the straps of the gun bag burned your palms as you tried to keep up with Bucky’s annoyingly long strides. At the intersection between the main street and two shops sat a garage; it appeared closed for the night, but was still open to Bucky, apparently, who pulled a key out from under an unsuspecting plant. He unlocked the large metal door, lifting it to reveal a tiny space that was barely big enough to house the large motorcycle and a workbench scattered with parts and tools. He strolled in like he owned the place and grabbed one of the helmets hanging off the motorcycle’s handles, handing it to you with an outstretched arm as he saddled himself onto the bike. You looked from him to the helmet, mouth agape and brow arched in confusion.
When you didn’t take it, he rolled his eyes and shook it at you.
“C’mon, we don’t have all night.”
“When the hell did you–”
“I’ve got my ways. Now c’mon, put the damn helmet on,” he huffed, leaning back on the seat. His thick thighs clenched and straddled the gunmetal-body of the motorcycle. You held back the shiver that ran up your back as you crossed your arms, hip cocking out in defiance. In the briefest of pauses, Bucky stilled, and you swore you caught his eyes scanning down your body, your curves and full figure, before snapping back up to meet yours. He scoffed, smirking to himself and shaking his head.
“The fuck are you laughin’ at?” Your face turned hot, prompting your arms to hug tighter over your chest. You felt off balance.
He said nothing and tossed the helmet to you. Your arms uncrossed and reacted much faster than your brain did as you barely caught it, slipping it on. Pointedly sighing, you relented and climbed onto the bike as Bucky put his own helmet on, sliding the visor down. In the shortly-live silence, your breathing echoed his, the air weighing heavy with anticipation. You were suddenly hyper-aware of every single little touch, every tiny movement made, every breath taken– like a bucket of ice water getting splashed on you, you were present for what felt like the first time that night.
The bike roared to life and Bucky leaned forward to fit his body closer to the handles.
“Might wanna hang on,” he yelled over the noise. You hesitated, probably for a second too long for Bucky’s liking as he looked behind you and rolled his eyes (you knew he did, even behind the stupid visor.) He reached behind his back and grabbed your wrist, pulling you against him and wrapping your arm around his waist. Your free arm followed suit, tightly embracing him, heart pounding in your chest at the sudden act. You lurched forward as he rode out of the garage and began down the street; the location was a mystery to you, other than you knew it was one of the regular S.H.I.E.L.D. approved safehouses in Istanbul.
Weaving through the other bikes and cars, you couldn’t help but lean closer into Bucky, watching the lights and sights pass by in a blur. Fingers fanned over his abdomen as you held on, feeling the firm leather tac jacket against your skin– which became firmer upon pressing into him and feeling like you were palming a brick wall. Knees fit together at the sides of the bike, shifting ever-so-slightly whenever he braked or shifted. Worst of all, as you hugged your chest into his back, you had a front-row seat in viewing the way his broad shoulders twisted with laser-like precision as he drove.
It took every ounce of energy not to let go and fall off the bike.
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The four-flight trudge up to the safehouse– more like safeapartment, actually– was a miserable one, especially with twenty pounds worth of gear on your back and a highly impatient super soldier on your ass telling you to “hurry the fuck up.”
“Again: ‘m not built like a fuckin’ freight train, here, Bucky,” you panted as your legs struggled in rounding the fourth and final landing. He didn’t bother to wait for you, instead turning wordlessly off the landing, heading down the hallway to the door with the keys jingling against his vibranium hand. You caught up to him, standing awkwardly off to the side as he fumbled with the sticky lock, and you couldn’t help but watch the way his hands moved. The way the vibranium prosthetic moved as fluidly as his flesh and bone, the way the plates glinted in the dimly lit hallway, the way his fingers seemed to have a mind of their own.
Bucky swung the door open, pulling you out of your trance. He flicked on a light switch to reveal a small apartment complete with a cramped living room, couch, small T.V., and an open kitchen in the back. A hallway diverted off to the left, presumably to the bathroom and–
“It’s a one bedroom,” Bucky muttered, stepping into the apartment. You looked at him incredulously.
“You– you’re kidding, right?” you asked, closing the door behind you and dropping your bag off to the side.
“No. Why would I?” Bucky turned to you, cocking a brow with hands set on his hips, revealing his undone tac jacket and the tightest fucking dry-fit shirt underneath. It was practically a second skin, hugging against his abs you felt earlier. You stared slack-jawed at him like he didn’t just hear himself speak.
“Because there’s only one fucking bed?”
“Yeah. And I’m taking it. You get couch duty,” he stated matter-of-factly. His crooked smirk prodded at your nerves.
You scoffed and mirrored his stance. “What? No! I did the work today, you sat around and just… watched.”
His face hardened. “I sat and just… watched?” he repeated, tone challenging you as he took a step forward.
You swallowed. “You heard me.”
One second, you were ready to hurl another choice word at Bucky. The next, you were slammed against the back of the door. Hard.
Bucky had rushed you, grabbing your arms with bruising force and forcing them up, pinning your wrists on either side of your head. You yelled in protest, failing to squirm out of the cage that was his body.
“Look at me right fuckin’ now,” he demanded, lips curling into a snarl and bared teeth. His voice turned, a complete 180. Dominating, commanding, enraging. When you didn’t obey instantly, he slammed your wrists against the door again.
“Look at me!”
“No! Fuck– Get off me!”
With your feet still free, you started kicking him, eliciting what sounded like a growl that rumbled from deep within his chest. Bucky passed your wrist in his metal hand off to his flesh one, pinning both hands above your head while shoving a thick thigh between both of yours– right against your core. An uncontrollable yelp escaped from you as he pushed. Heat pooled in your lower stomach, and it took every bit of control to stop yourself from clenching your thighs together automatically. The fire Bucky ignited only grew, imaginary flames roaring in your stomach and racing up your limbs. His prosthetic hand snaked up your neck and squeezed your chin, squishing your cheeks and lips, forcing your eyes to him.
You felt lightheaded. Bucky– fuck, nobody– ever grabbed you like that; like you belonged to them. To him.
“You’re gonna listen to me, and listen good,” he shook your face, “I saved your fuckin’ life tonight, ‘member? When you were defenseless and as good as fuckin’ dead on that roof? You made me shoot that piece of shit point blank. You made me almost shoot you.”
His voice shook and he looked away, biting his lip then coming back to you. “I fuckin’ saved your life when you should’ve saved your own. If it’d been any later– if I’d been a second later–” He steadied a breath, shaking his head and scoffing a laugh. He focused back on you with wildly electric blues. “I saved your life. Therefore, I get the goddamned bed tonight. Got it?”
You stared at him for a second longer before nodding gently. The energy building between you was enough to burn the entire building down if someone lit a cigarette. A smirk slowly bloomed across your lips. He released your chin, hand sinking down to rest against your collarbone.
“Is that all, Sergeant?”
His Adam's apple bobbed.
“What did you just call me?” he whispered, sliding a vibranium palm around the column of your neck, plated fingers resting on your pulse point. He twitched. Inches.
“You heard me.”
The air, thick in the apartment, felt charged.
“Needja t’say it again. Can’t hear too well,” he slurred, licking his lips. Eyelids fluttering, hands squeezing. Centimeters.
“Whatever you say,” you lilted. Millimeters. “Sergeant.”
Lightning struck. Everything ignited, setting fire to both of you as Bucky’s lips seared into yours. Hard, sloppy, desperate as tongue and teeth swapped secrets like old friends. He was unexplored territory, yet he felt so familiar. His prosthetic slowly relented the grip on your wrists, dropping to your shoulder, sliding down your chest where he greedily groped and slid over every last peak and dip of your body: tits screaming for release from your suit; hips jerking in short bursts at his every movement. He grabbed your ass and pulled you closer, forcing your thick thighs to spread wider as his own pushed further against your arousal.
“Been–” Bucky smacked your lips, kissing hungrily across your cheek and biting down your neck, “Shit– Been wanting this so– long, fuck–” He pressed into you, his cock harder a gun in his waistband. You couldn’t hold onto the intensely lust-filled moan that spilled from your throat much longer. Bucky grinned against your neck, lapping and sucking and marking your skin like he owned you. Like he could do whatever he wanted to you.
And you let him.
“Gotta get this shit off you,” Bucky mumbled into your neck as he shed his own jacket, face not leaving your skin. Rough hands grabbed onto you and ripped away the buckles and buttons of the jacket that kept your body from him. A deep groan rumbled inside his chest as he threw the top half of your suit to the side, drinking in the beautiful sight of your body, hugged in all the right places by the cami that was riding up your stomach while your tits gasped for air, spilling out, fighting against your sports bra.
“Holy–fuck, holy shit.”
Bucky Barnes was speechless. And you were the reason why.
He stopped as your wrists came down from above your head and fell down your frame.
“God, you’re fuckin’ beautiful.”
Your heart stopped.
“You’re telling me.”
Another charge surged and you threw yourself at Bucky, sending both of you stumbling through the living room. Hands grasped and groped. Fingers busied themselves with removing clothing, undoing pants to throw one way and stripping shirts to toss another. You were magnetized to him, carding through his cropped chocolate hair, hooking your arms behind his neck– which was still bare and practically begging you to mark it in every way you knew. Stumbling over an end table, knocking into the wall that led down the hallway, dragging one another to the bedroom only to pause when you whined at Bucky to shut the door.
Both of you were near-naked, relishing in each other’s skin by the time you made it to the bed, falling on it with him on top of you in a heap. Bucky hiked you further up the bed, dropping you onto the several pillows that made it feel like Cloud 9. You looked up at him straddling your hips with legs that seemed to spread wider the further down he sat. Eyelids fluttered while your pupils adjusted to the dark bedroom. What lay before was a scene out of your wildest fantasy.
Bucky sat back on his hips, hair spiking out in wild tufts, cock aching to break free from the confines of his briefs as he stared back at you hungrily. His tongue jutted out to wet his lips, dragging the bottom half back into his teeth while his lust-blown pupils trained directly on you. You truly hadn’t registered the god-like, sculpturesque muscles leading down his chest and over his rippling abs that finished in a very defined ‘V’ below the waistband of his briefs. The veins bulging in his arm and hand were enough to send you spiraling. Everything before you left you speechless. Wanting. Needing.
Bucky slid painstakingly slow hands over your hips, up your waist, your ribs, slipping curious fingers underneath the hem of your sports bra. He didn’t rip it off like you expected, however.
He looked at you. Really looked at you. “You–” his Adam’s apple bobbed, “y’know this’ll change everything. Right?”
You nodded, eager, confident. “Yeah. I– I know.”
“You wanna do this?” He tugged harder.
“Yes.” Another tug. Your tits begged for release.
“And you… got protection, er–” he hesitated, cocking a brow.
“Pill. I–I’m on the pill,” you breathlessly assured him. You added with a shrug, “I assume you didn’t bring any…”
He scoffed a laugh. “You weren’t exactly on my list of things t’do.”
“Well I hope I’m a top priority, now.”
“Number fuckin’ one.”
The elastic tore as he ripped the fabric, finally releasing your breasts from their constraint. Bucky discarded your ruined bra and turned back to you. His hands gravitated automatically to your chest, kneading, squeezing; thumbs and index fingers on both sides felt around for your nipples and pinched the sensitive buds, eliciting a squeal from you and another rush of arousal flooded your core.
Bucky hummed while locking his lips onto a pointed peak, mouthing and nipping and sucking. You mewled, running a hand up the back of his head and through his messy hair. His vibranium hand started downwards, sending your senses into overdrive as metal fingers teased the hem of your hipsters that met the crease in your thigh. He released your swollen nipple with a pop.
“Fuck you’re soaked, baby,” he moaned. Tugging your hipsters down your legs, he returned to leaning back on his hips. You’re breathless, panting, melting before him as he palms his thick erection. The girthy, leaking head poked over the waistband, aching to finally meet you. To feel you.
He stripped his briefs off, springing his cock free. You couldn’t tell if the uncontrollable moan that escaped from your lips was because of how mouth-watering he was or the thrilling worry that flooded your mind at the thought (and soon-to-be very real act) of fitting him– all of him– inside you. You glanced at him, catching the way his eyes darkened into something sinister, something hungry and uncontrollable. His jaw hardened as he pumped himself, leaking precum droplets onto your thighs.
“Get on your fuckin’ stomach,” he commanded. You obeyed, willing to do anything in your power to quell the iron-hot ache that made your pussy throb with want. The second your palms hit the mattress he grabbed you, hands bruising your love handles and ass as he yanked you back to him, shoving your face down into the pillows. With your cheek pressing into the mattress, face squishing into your elbow, all of the oxygen was pulled from your lungs. A beat of silence filled the void between you before a loud SMACK followed by a stinging pain radiating from your ass.
SMACK. “That was for the back talk.”
SMACK. “That was for scarin’ me t’night.”
SMACK. “And that was for makin’ me have to wait this long to fuck your stubborn ass.”
Drool dripped from the corner of your mouth and onto the sheets as you chewed your lip, trying (and failing) to dull the harsh, hot pain. Hands gripping your hips, bruising and rough, he yanked you back to meet his front. His cock jammed in between your cheeks as he grinded on you, kneading your ass to mold around him.
“You’re gonna take me,” he rasped, low and throaty. “All of me.”
You felt him line himself up with your entrance, his girthy head poking and prodding at your entrance. A beat. Hesitation from both of you before he finally snapped forward, plunging into you, filling you, stretching you wider than you could’ve imagined. Once inside, he paused, shifting inside you, cursing breathlessly at the perfect fit. You groaned and desperately shifted your hips in silent hope that Bucky would fucking move. The stretching, the fullness, everything gnawed at your insides that were begging for release. For pleasure.
“F-fuck Bucky, please–!” He slowly, painfully, rolled his hips in small, dragged-out thrusts before pulling out of you with the most self-control you’d ever see from him and jamming right back into you.
“Fuck! Again! Please, again!”
He obeyed you; his hips gradually began to pick up speed, thrusting erratically into you.
“Gimme your arm,” he gritted between hissed curses. Your brain was on a three-second delay between hearing him and when you started to twist; too slow for Bucky’s liking, he growled, bending– and, in turn, stuffing himself until his base scraped your ass– to grab your arm, pinning against your back with a stern hold. The pain, the pleasure, the all-of-it fanned the flames inside you, growing hotter and hotter and threatening to implode.
“‘M so close, baby, so–” he gasped, “Fuck, where do I–?”
“Back,” you answered, muffled against the sheets. “My back, I– ah!” You clenched around him, locking him in place as the implosion erupted within you. White-hot flashes of intense pleasure shot through your veins like a lethal shock. You screamed. You trembled. You felt the most all-consuming release rock you to your core, all while Bucky drilled into you harder, faster, his own coil on the brink of snapping. His hips began to stutter into you while you rode your high, mewling when it was time to pull from you in a hurry, his fist furiously pumping the last few seconds. A pleasured cry came from his body as hot ropes shot onto you, painting your skin in warm bursts, cum pooling where your spine arced. He groaned. Fist slowing in pumps, he fell onto the covers next to you in a heap as you cautiously lowered your back.
For a minute it was just your labored breathing echoing one another. The smell of sex lingered in the air, the distant sounds of the streets below and within the quiet building were muffled by the walls of the bedroom. It felt like forever before the bed shifted. Bucky stood, fumbling around on the ground for his discarded briefs. Kneeling back onto the bed, you flinched at the suddenly soft touch of fabric as he cleaned you up, wiping your skin until satisfied. He tossed the boxers back onto the ground somewhere unseen, rolling over back to his place next to you. You couldn’t help the smile on your lips, biting it back as you flipped over to look at Bucky, who was already staring at you with a soft smile.
“Thanks.”
He shrugged in response. “Looks like we both needed it.”
You nodded. “Does this mean ’m still sleeping on the fuckin’ couch?”
“Hm. No, I’ll let you off the hook,” he said, grabbing the covers and pulling them over you both.
“I think I like being off the hook better than being on it.”
“Mhmm, sure,” he hummed. The covers shrouded you as he placed a metal hand on your cheek, rubbing his thumb in soft circles as he pulled you in for another electrifying kiss.
#suzsblinddatewritingchallenge#targaryenvampireslayer#suz's writing challenge#writing challenge#filthy impetuous souls#jen writes#prompted#enemies to lovers#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x female!reader#bucky barnes x you#curvy!reader#bucky barnes x curvy!reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes angst#sebastian stan characters#protective!bucky barnes#sniper!reader#winter soldier#the winter soldier x you#the winter soldier x reader#bucky barnes imagines
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ok listen hear me out
listening to 'you know me too well' by nothing but thieves playing in your head while being in the same room as the guy who plays eddie munson and your gaze meets his every once in a while throughout the entire evening even though you're both constantly pulled into conversations by the other guests of the event you're both attending until you somehow end up tangled up in each other in some dark hallway of the venue and you're both so breathless and heated up from the kisses and touches that you can't bring yourselves to even think about stopping which leads to you eventually waking up the next morning next to him in his bed all curly haired and soft in contrast to the night you just had
#oh christ#nothing but thieves#joseph quinn#what did i just do to myself#joseph quinn x reader#whoops#you know me too well#literally the sexiest song joe langridge brown has ever written probably#nbt#eddie munson#runningupthatvecna#i cant stop thinking about this#filthy impetuous soul#makes myself sad#someone stop me#Spotify
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having a completely normal one
#yes i’m thinking about arañita wip yes i’m thinking about them#this song is on the playlist too#which should. speak volumes#aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa#the entire song makes me lose my mind but these lines specifically#filthy impetuous soul… i wanna give it to you… just to see what you’d do… are you INSANE#arañita wip
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...Filthy impetuous soul
I wanna give it to you
oh just to see what you'd do
Based off this photo
#kimchay#kinnporsche#kim theerapanyakul#porchay kittisawasd#kpdoodles#I couldn't think of a caption lol#lyrics from You Know Me Too Well by Nothing But Theives
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𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍 🔞 minors dni
~ simeon ; obey me
✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : simeon knows he shouldn’t be doing this but his desires get in the way of his angelic status, will he give in?
‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : smut, fem!reader, corruption kink, dry humping, oral sex (male receiving), simeon struggles with religion
‧₊˚ a / n : i had this idea in my head for so long omg it’s finally done!! if i’m missing anything in the cw please let me know !
Intoxicated, disoriented, overwhelmed. Three of the words Simeon’s writer mind chose to describe his current feelings, a war had been set ablaze on his mind. He knew he wasn’t supposed to do this, he knew the right thing to do would be to stop you. But how could something wrong feel so right? The touch of your fingertips exploring the tanned skin of his chest, your shaky breath pouring in between his lips like the most luscious drink the three worlds could’ve ever produced. Your lips snapped back onto his like magnets and his shaky fingers found their way in between the strands of your hair, keeping you in place so he could indulge in the incessant frenzy your kiss wrapped him in.
“Simeon…” a needy wail left your lips, your voice like honey calling for him to join you in the bliss of the most lascivious of desires “touch me, please”
Your request was torture to him, he yearned to slide his hands up those mouth-watering thighs, to taste in his own mouth the skin of your neck and feel on his tongue the pulsating blood running through your veins in a rush of lust. He was convinced only you could make corruption feel so enticing, his will power shattering and arousal increasing the burning need for more of your whimpers.
“MC please” he cried “I’m falling for you”
“Isn’t this between you and I better than the damned glory of the skies?” your whisper just as painful as inviting “please, Simeon”
How could he deny you anything? He’d give you a throne in the celestial realm if you asked for it, with that provocative voice and those exquisite lips of yours.
So his hands flew to your knees, making their way upwards and squeezing softly, a sigh of pleasure coming from your throat to bless his hearing and feeding an uncontrollable need for more of your sounds, which clouded his mind and rationality. His turquoise eyes relished in the hypnotizing waving of your hips, until he closed them harshly and let his head rest over your chest, his heartbeat galloping faster than ever before. His stuttering breath sounded louder throughout the walls of his bedroom, so he bit his lip to stop it, begging in his head for you to please have mercy on him.
But you didn’t. Your voice called his name again, your fingers diving deep into the dark ember strands of his curls behind his neck and pulling until his open mouth was lifted up in your direction. You kissed him again, the urge to kiss back burned his throat to the point of madness, and still he didn’t.
“Just let go” you asked in a pained groan “please, I just want a kiss, it’s just a kiss”
Just a kiss. What was so wrong about a kiss? What was so wrong about this love? If heaven didn’t want him to act like this then why did it give him this filthy impetuous soul? why would they make you so painfully sublime? Simeon’s hands gabbed onto your hips and his fingers fitted so perfectly in the curves of your body, his lips kissed back and molded so flawlessly with yours that he couldn’t help but think: why would heaven make such a creature so ideal for him and not want him to have it? what kind of twisted game was that?
But then your body left him, and the cold that came with your absence almost felt like pain in his very bones.
“What are you doing?” his anxious heart suddenly scared of the idea of you leaving, even when it meant relief in his conflicted mind, his heart sang for your weight over his body again.
“I’ll show you better than heaven” and you got on your knees.
You might’ve been human but the words leaving your mouth formed the most devilish sentence he had heard since setting foot in the Devildom. The pace of his breathing quickened, watching as your hands caressed the inner sides of his thighs and made their way to the zipper of his pants, your doe shiny eyes stabbing through his, bearing a beautiful false innocence. Simeon gasped harshly when your indecorous fingers managed to pull his hard member out from his clothes, arms searching for stability on his bed. The feeling of your warm breath on his exposed and humid skin made his head spin, once again he closed his eyes in anticipation.
“God forgive me for what i’m about to let happen” the angel’s raspy voice dragged the words out of his throat, the last of his pleadings.
He allowed the seductive sense of sin finally take over his mind when the feeling of your soft tongue lapped from the base of his shaft all the way up to the tip. With a moan, he clutched the bedsheets, his throat closed up in an attempt of controlling his language and his legs almost jolted in a hurry to close. There wasn’t a single drop of leniency or hesitation in the way you held him with your right hand, swirling your tongue around the tip and then slowly taking him inside your mouth. Simeon’s agape mouth exhaled in another breathy moan, he called your name in low huffs and instinctively held your head with his hands, fingers curling in your hair. You started moving, the walls of your mouth and your tongue creating a wet friction that he felt in every single one of his veins.
“Don’t stop, just like that” he begged, slowly picking up your rhythm, his hips unconsciously beginning to buckle against you.
He enjoyed the way his judgment had now been burned away by the hellfire you ignited in him, embraced the way forbidden pleasure that travelled through his frame. all he could think about was you and the way you touched him. Soft, slow delight was then replaced by intense and fiery one the moment you sped up the pace.
“W-wait-” his body contorted forwards, his fingers pulled your hair, gaining an erotic groan from you “… fuck”
He was heavily panting at this point, the muscles in his belly started to tighten, pleasure waves started to pulse throughout his whole body.
“S…Stop, if you don’t want me to- I’m gonna-”
You didn’t care, you didn’t stop, his throbbing member releasing his seed inside your mouth.
Quickly, you pulled away and swallowed the warm liquid, gasping for air afterwards and making Simeon’s eyes fly open and dart towards you. There you were, shiny lips and hazy eyes, your hair messy, and even a drop of his arousal sliding down from the corners of your lips, which you dizzily wiped away with your forearm. Simeon couldn’t believe his eyes. Even when his eyes were used to the beauty of the heavens, he had never seen anything more beautiful than you.
And yes, you were better than heaven.
#; belle after hours#obey me#obey me nightbringer#obey me smut#obey me simeon#simeon obey me#obey me swd#obey me shall we date#omswd simeon#simeon x you#simeon x mc#simeon x reader#simeon x y/n#simeon smut
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Filthy impetuous soul, i wanna give it to you, oh just to see what you'd do
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Happy Easter everyone!
I hope you enjoy the weekend and maybe a fic or two from my March reading list.
Please make sure to check all warnings before reading. But if you do enjoy a story, maybe leave a comment and reblog to support your local neighbourhood fic writiers.
Azriel
Totally Annoying and Not Funny At All by @sillymercury
Bat Boys
Rescue Me by @shadowdaddies
Benedict Bridgerton
Reunited by @fayes-fics 🔥
Roleplay by @fayes-fics 🔥
Temptation by @fayes-fics 🔥
Bucky Barnes
Aftercare by @buckys-wintersoldier 🔥
Best Daddy Ever by @notafunkiller
Bucky Dating Anxious Reader by @lives-in-midgard
Bucky Finding Alpine by @espinosaurusrexex
Bucky's Birthday Wish by @witchywithwhiskey
Cuddles Ask by @lives-in-midgard
Filthy, Impetuous Souls by @jen-with-a-pen 🔥
Honeysuckle by @jen-with-a-pen
I Get Eden Ivy to Stay the Night by @world-of-aus 🔥
Just Shut Up For Once by @mrsbuckybarnes1917
Party For Two by @geeky-politics-46 🔥
Protective Mafia Bucky by @angrythingstarlight
Stuck by @brnesblogposts
The Tests by @skaye44
Trigger Tease(r) by @gutsby 🔥
Wedded Bliss by @gutsby 🔥
Dorian Havilland
Phantom Touch by @shadowdaddies 🔥
Loki
Cool Down by @lokisgoodgirl 🔥
Luxury by @ijuststareatstuffhereok89
On Your Knees by @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 🔥
Open Skies by @lokisgoodgirl 🔥
Temptress by @doomsdaybby 🔥
Poly/Mixed Partners
Happy Birthday, Yasha by @late-to-the-party-81 🔥(Cap Quartet)
Spontinaity by @shadowdaddies 🔥 (Bat Boys x Reader)
Will Anyone Notice by @throneofspicybooks 🔥(Nessian x Reader)
Rhysand
Close To You by @shadowdaddies 🔥
Ruhn Danaan
10:35 by @utterlyotterlyx
A Deeper Intimacy by @shadowdaddies
Learning to Smoke by @grandlinedreams
SamBucky
Still Not Funny drabble by @livingincolorsagain
Steve Rogers
Battle Scars by @lokischambermaid
Coffee Shop Ask by @late-to-the-party-81
#Bucky Barnes#Dorian Havilland#Azriel#Cassian#Loki#Steve Rogers#Sam Wilson#SamBucky#ruhn danaan#natasha romanoff#benedict bridgerton#Rhysand
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Im in dire need of some bottom Izzy or just would you be able to rec us your favourite izzy fics can be any ship any time just want to know your fave izzy fics
HMM i always love reccing fics but had no idea where to start, so i just stuck with bottom/sub izzy and edizzy (+ some side pairings) to narrow it down lol. also there are a lot of izzy-centric fics out there i rly love that have little/no smut at all, but these r just explicit-rated works since that's what i assume ur looking 4
to force his hand by alex51324
under the seams runs the pain by ajaxthegreat
we two boys together clinging by rimbaudofficial
new tricks by wrizard
burn and be forgiven by poppyinabreeze
plump, sweet, and begging for cream by nothingtoseehere4
filthy impetuous soul (I wanna give it to you) by shatteredhourglass
release in sodomy (one sweet moment) by izzyspussy
sing like a good canary by heizhands
cut the chord, overboard by anonymous
love is not like anything (especially a fucking knife) by redshift
take the pain, take the pleasure by shatteredhourglass
and I've prayed to appear fed by higgsbosonblues
doldrums by xylodemon
it's not like you got somewhere to be by robinade
training by spinelessdragon
crying in the shower by drool_kitten
what he needs by soiboi69
man on fire by ajaxthegreat
oblivion by cloudspassmeby
you're so transparent by goresmores
oh, we're in the in between by hymn
don't ask me by sweveris
bury the hatchet by unlovedhands
never did care for arithmetic by sushiowl
look closely by mossydreamz
shape of suffering by shatteredhourglass
want it, take it by redshift
coldest form of war by sandpapersnowman
we've built an altar in the clouds by hymns
dressing down by schmirius
freezing hands and bloodless veins by givemebaretrees
cry for me by sweveris
muscle (into your bad dreams) by bitethehands
gomorrah by marcos_the_transfag
love the rush by exsanguinate
full to the brim by xylodemon
a prize for claiming by spookygenderfuck
just wait a little more by achilles_is_gay
employer offered workplace benefits by antimonicacid
gotta love a facial by leaveanote
desire is hunger by anonymous
devotion, I'm a slave onto the mercy of your love by plunderheavenblind
inconceivable by darkhedgehog
active listening by unlovedhands
renewing wedding vows in blood and bone by unlovedhands
bore into marrow by way_visceral
rock the boat by unlovedhands
#idk if read mores still work on this website but hopefully they do bc this is insanely long#and I still feel like I forgot some nfjkdskf ok whatever. cheers
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Had a conversation with my great-grandmother about a week back or so and we had discussed a lot of things but one of the things that stuck out to me was the part of the conversation about the semester where I had to go home because of the COVID pandemic. Home is not a place where I have historically did very well in for school, and the general vibe was that explaining this was not enough. It must have been because I was addicted to the god damn video games.
It was an off-hand comment, but very illuminating. There was no purpose in that comment other than to put me down. If there was genuine concern there, there would be a discussion of whether or not I needed help (I don't, I don't suffer from an addiction of any kind). It was just meant to be a barb. A tacit sign of disapproval, and that's really all this has become, hasn't it?
We've bastardized addiction so much on the internet from an actual mental illness that people go through and struggle with and need professional medical care, into an insult you can throw at someone when you need to feel better than them. I've always hated Bidoof's Law, but it's plain fucking text there. The point of saying someone is "openly addicted to hentai" is to jeer and mock them. There's no other impetus there.
My mother is a recovering alcoholic and she always will be. I had to grow up watching my mother drink herself to death, and to this day she hasn't gotten a liver transplant because of it. She's been sober for over a decade, but her being an addict has in essence cut her off of the health care that she has needed for years.
Being an addict gave DCF the ability to set her up, to take advantage of her mental illnesses to ruin her life and to steal my younger brother from her. When it came to why my mother couldn't take my son back in, the DCF agent, may her soul rest in piss, fabricated assertions that my mother was drinking again, and doing crack cocaine, and was abusing pills. She could do that because my mother had an addiction history. She could just make shit up.
So yeah, I find the use of addiction now to be genuinely offensive. We don't even live in a society that provides its graces to people who suffer from chemical addictions. Are we really going to go around labeling the people who don't like addicts? Are we going to do this? Yell about the filthy porn addicts and rhetoricize anytime someone's investment in something makes you uncomfortable as an addiction?
Just to feel better than the fucking addicts?
Congrats. You really don't care for addicts.
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"Filthy impetuous soul, I wanna give it to you..."
trying to combat perfectionism by going back and posting stuff i'd left to gather dust a long time ago. who cares if it's not perfect.
#Angels vs Demons AU#working a “normal” job got me treasuring simply having the time to draw#starshipping#judai yuki#yusei fudo#yugioh gx#jaden yuki#yugioh#yugioh 5ds#yugioh fanart#ygo#art by neeko#fantasy#fanart
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Three-Song Playlists
Rules: Compile three-song playlists for as many OCs as you can/would like to
thank you @shivunin for the tag!! tagging: @vakarians-babe @tamarsart @emptyshellofanillusionwizard @druidhalsin @siennamain @wildlymish
Safaa Salhani
Somewhere A Clock Is Ticking by Snow Patrol (I am scared, I'm so scared / (I could do almost anything to you))
Nazareth by Sleep Token (Dripping from the open mouth, I'll show you / What you look like, from the inside)
Wake (E-bow) by Crywolf (I'm terrified by the presence inside your bones / It pulls you down, down, down, down)
Aydın Çağlayan
The Offering by Sleep Token (My arms belong around you / So take a bite)
You Know Me Too Well by Nothing but Thieves (Filthy impetuous soul / I wanna give it to you / Oh, just to see what you'd do)
Chokehold by Sleep Token (When we were made / It was no accident / We were tangled up like branches in a flood)
Destan Hawke
Your Blood by Nothing But Thieves (Oh no, there's no escape / No matter how I try / Now I'm stuck on one day / For the rest of my life)
Like That by Sleep Token (Fall into your eyes like a grave (all that is inside, all your anger) / Bury me to the sound of your name (all your disgust, all your resentment))
Atlantic by Sleep Token (So flood me like Atlantic, weather me to nothing / Wash away the blood on my hands)
#tag game#safaa salhani#aydın çağlayan#destan hawke#no one look at me for most of these being sleep token songs I-#I'm a little obsessed rn#if you do decide to check them out I recommend 'the apparition'#it's got a beautiful mix of alt-pop. metal. and the vocalist's beautiful falsetto (which goes insanely high)#i'll forever be insane over this song
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Made it to 23 rotations around the sun today 🎂
I just wanted to let y'all know how thankful I am to be able to do what I do and write what I write. Thank you to those who have stuck around and those who are just passing through 🫶
Makes me glad that life didn't end at 21.
Cheers to another trip around the sun y'all 🥂
#jen speaks#it's my birthday today :)#birthday post#just wanted to share my gratitude#also filthy impetuous souls is almost at 1k and i literallly cannot fucking belive it like ?????#never wouldve imagined having a fic in the thousands.. like ever#only my heroes (aka 99% of my mutuals) have that#interesting perspective :)
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HELLOWEEN #10: ACABUS
-ACABUS is a Constable of Hell with 3,921 Watch-Men and 42 co-signed laws to her name. She may be summoned to prevent entry and egress from contained spaces, produce sigils to command those in their wake, produce a cubic oubliette preventing all egress and cause injury to those who have broken contracts.
She appears as a knight with a long tower for a head with an eye at the apex, wielding a hammer in one arm and a telescope in another. She requires a contract for her services, do not sign it with your dominant hand or else you are doomed to damnation.-
As there are landlords in hell, there are also cops. And amongst cops, a decent sample is Acabus. Petty would be the word I use to describe her, but not for her own indulgence's sake (at least not overtly), but rather for the sake of the Law.
This was clear to me when I contacted her within an entire city block she had taken over due to a simple parking violation, barricated from every avenue of egress, automobiles and pedestrians alike crushed into cubes due to being complicit in the viscinity of the parking violation, all surfaces festooned with tickets like freshly fallen snow.
Despite her pretentions, she is more or less a low-level traffic cop of hell, dealing with loitering, violations of driver safety, ticketing, and barricades amongst others. She really loves barricades. She waxed baroque of the art of making them as glorious yet painful and difficult to egress from as possible, and the ones in the location I had met her indeed seemed to bear an elaborate artisanship, albeit a grotesque one given the amount of twisted forms adjacent to humanoid and flame-belching skulls (conscious and unconscious alike) therein.
But, despite her low level, she was extremely proud of her work, saying that hell would devolve "like those filthy lemurs above," without her, her hatred of the souls of sinners and desire to punish as terrifying as it was sincere (despite being notably unhappy about her own limitations) and emphasizing to an almost suspiciously insistent degree that all she did was "by the book" unlike those who were here.
She did not seem to like most of hell either though, given the way the conversation (More a monologue on her part) escalated to her contempt for the hosts of hell, and I recall the line "Were I the ruler I would make Pandemonium itself a prison!" was uttered.
I quickly gave my leave after her comments on Pandemonium, heaven knows what she might do to me, but there was one other notable thing about her.
She told me her proudest moment was being brought on for inducing a traffic-jam for participating in large-scale torture of souls, who had been released onto a 'street" in "cars" and told they were free. Not even the main torturer, just as an assistant, but to her it was the closest moment to pure justice in her mind.
Of course, the justice of Hell was never supposed to exist, because the justice of pain is a false one. But I didn't tell that to her out loud. God no.
-Xavier X. Xolomon , Monsterologist and Understudy to The Librarian Of Babel
----------------------------
This one's one of my favorite designs I made for this project, and I am at least sorta proud of the "small-name big-ego traffic cop" personality I gave her.
The design's impetus was actually based on Road Rage from Ultimate Muscle, if anyone remembers that, and the love of traffic barricades is an Earthbound reference!
And yes, she totally would fight a small child who wanted to get past one of said barricades, that is something she would enthusiastically do.
Also, Xavier's not just being poetic, in my setting, Hell was a gargantuan cosmic mistake, a maelstrom-wound that drives the wicked into its folds, but in a way that was never ever intended. So yeah, there's that bit of lore.
As per usual the whole descriptions, designs, ectcetera from this project are free to use as you see fit under a CC-BY 4.0 license so long as I; Thomas F. Johnson, am credited as their creator!
#my art#my writing#demon#helloween#monstergirl#she counts#acab#cops#demons#creature design#character design
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I need you
Bela Dimitrescu x Shifter! Reader
Warning! Angst and gore, mentions of torture.
“Honey i just don’t get why you want to try and kill one of the four lords? THEY’RE LORDS! Are you sure you’re ready for the consequences when you fail?” The woman glares at the man, her spineless coward of a husband who was once brave and confident. There was a time where he’d follow her anywhere, he’d do anything for her and vice versa. “You don’t understand Stefan! This is my sister! They laid their filthy hands on her and stole the life from her! What did she do but serve them unconditionally?! What warrants such a fate?!” “THEY’LL KILL YOU! Make a public example of you! What then?! What shall I do then?!” “Stop making this about you! This is my sister we’re talking about and if I don’t avenge her who will? You certainly won’t and I can’t stand by while they drag more innocent souls to their deaths!” The door shuts with a resounding slam as Stefan breaks down at the prospect of losing his beloved wife. “Forgive us Mother Miranda . . .”
The plan was simple, get close to the Lady and earn her trust. There were rumors of a dagger powerful enough to strip the life of the wretched matriarch she just couldn’t pin down where exactly it resided. Gaining the trust of the nine foot tall Beauty proved to be more difficult than naught, the head of the castle always away for business or busy with one of her daughters, showing her the ins and outs of their business as she’d soon have a partnership role. That’s what led Alina to her backup plan. If she couldn’t get close to the matriarch than she’ll have to take something from her that will absolutely destroy her; Her daughters.
Getting close to Cassandra was nothing short of impossible. The deranged middle Dimitrescu only had blood and carnage on her mind, death was sure to follow anyone who dared to get close. Daniela also proved to be difficult seeing as the girl was impetuous. Often acting without a single thought the youngest Dimitrescu could switch up her moods so swiftly it was impossible to read her. Stories of her erratic outbursts whispered through the halls, a maid getting her face slashed for making a simple mistake. She too seemed to operate on pure destruction. That left Bela; eldest Dimitrescu and heir to whatever winery they operated. Perhaps the most poised and collected of the three, she too had her moments of terror but she spent most of her time in her study reading any and everything. Her thirst for knowledge was the one thing Alina could work with.
“Come onnnnn, you’ve read that book like a million timesss. . .” (Y/n) whines, crawling into the blonde’s lap and trying to muzzle her way under her book and into her neck, much like a cat in search of affection. Bela, still absorbed in her book hums softly, placing a kiss atop her head without breaking her concentration. “I want to spend time with you.” (Y/n) nuzzles into her neck, breathing in her scent with a sigh. She smelled of amber and bark with a slight iron undertone. Bela finishes the chapter and sets her book down, turning her attention to the girl in her lap. “Alright I’m all yours now.” (Y/n) grins brightly and all but drags Bela out the study. “We’re going to have so much fun!” On their way down the hall they run into Alina, Bela’s personal maid, carrying a load of laundry. “Oh Alina, I’ve been meaning to tell you, the nights are getting far too cold so you’ll need to make sure there’s enough firewood in Lady Bela’s room each night. I needn’t remind you the consequences should you fail as I’m quite fond of you.” “Yes lady (y/n). I shall get to it right away.”
(Y/n) proved to be another wrench in Alina’s plan. After she had settled to get close to Bela she realized she’d also have to gain the trust of the resident hunter/ executioner. (Y/n)’s whole purpose was to get her hands dirty and the girl showed absolutely no remorse over it. Was everyone in this castle fucking mad? Legend had it (Y/n) wasn’t even fully human, where’s the surprise in that? (Y/n) was always at Bela’s side, only leaving to hunt, gather supplies from around the village, and carry out executions. Alina couldn’t quite pin what exactly (y/n) was and it scared her. She was swift like the daughters but never burst into swarms of murderous flies. She ate the same as the three but didn’t actively drink blood. Was she perhaps another one of Miranda’s freaks? She’d have to find out some other time because now fate seemed to be on her side. Lady Dimitrescu was leaving for business and (y/n) was going out for a hunt. Daniela and Cassandra would be in the dungeons all day torturing those poor souls (y/n) dragged in the previous week. “They’ve been scouting the castle grounds.” She had said. Anyone with ill intentions was tortured and eventually put to death. That left Bela who had opted out of torture for the day and insisted she read in her study. Alina knew the girl hadn’t been sleeping too well and thus her senses dulled. The knife she’d heard about tucked away into the apron of her uniform Alina did her normal duties, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. She wasn’t a complete idiot either she had the perfect plan. Open the window to weaken the flies that made up Bela’s structure and stab her with the knife to render her healing ability from kicking in. She’d then lock her in the study and let nature take its course. She’d then rush the dagger back to its rightful place and stage an attack on the castle, wounding herself would likely keep her out of suspicion.
Something’s not right. (Y/n)’s gut was screaming at her to abandon her hunt and return to the castle. Her wings twitched nervously and she hissed lowly. The herd of deer she had been stalking for half the day just ahead. She readied herself to pounce, in her panthera form she’d make quick work of the poor deer she’d get her claws on however the nagging feeling that something just wasn’t right prevented her from following through. Then she heard it, the shudders of weakened breathing and the slowing of a heart beating. Bela was in trouble. With the sound akin to that of thunder (y/n) took to the sky, trying with all her might to get to the castle in time. She didn’t even shift back to her human form as she raced the halls, listening for those cursed sounds. When she located the door she all but tore a hole through it, immediately sweeping Bela off the floor and rushing her to another room. Her thoughts running wild. How did this happen? If only I’d been here. I’ll kill whoever’s responsible. Cassandra and Daniela burst through the door shortly after. “What the hell did you do to my sister?!” Cass sneered, already quick to blame with her sickle pointed at the Hunter. “Cass calm down! If she’d done it she wouldn’t have rushed her here.” Daniela reasoned, her eyes brimming with tears. “I don’t know who did this but someone’s head is going to roll for it.” (Y/n) said with absolute venom lacing her words.
The days to follow were filled with so much tension. All the maids were lined up and cross examined, most had strong alibi’s while others seemed a little shaky. Nonetheless the incident was ruled an accident by Lady Dimitrescu per (y/n)’s pleas. Bela fell into a coma whilst her body worked to recover at an alarmingly slow pace. Her room on complete lockdown, no maids, not even her sisters or (y/n) could see her. It hurt to not be able to see the girl she loved but (y/n) knew it was for the best. Trust was very low these days and whoever tried to kill her could still be in this castle. (Y/n) remembers the conversation she had with Lady Dimitrescu the week after the incident. “Whoever tried to kill Bela knew what they were doing. They waited until you and I were away for business and Cass and Daniela would be busy in the lowest parts of the castle. They also left the window open and locked her in her study. I have a list of maids I want to observe but I must ask of you a favor my Lady.” Lady Dimitrescu takes a puff of her cigarette with a hum, she was very livid over the whole situation but her outward demeanor remained calm, frighteningly calm. “I’m listening child.” (Y/n) looks up and makes eye contact for the first time that night, her eyes red from crying and flooding with pure retribution. “I want you to announce that the incident was an accident. I can observe everyone better if they know we don’t suspect any foul play. I would also like to request that Bela is put on strict lockdown, with you being the only one to be in contact with her. I’ll assign all her maids elsewhere.” Lady Dimitrescu mulls the thought over for what feels like a century. She wanted whoever tried to kill her daughter to pay for their crimes, that much she had in common with (y/n) but to cut her daughters off from their sister? In these trying times where Bela was literally fighting for her life? “My lady, I only ask because she may try again if she had access to Bela.” (Y/n) assures as if reading her mind. “Granted, you have 14 days to figure out who tried to kill my daughter. Should you fail, well, it’s going to be a dark night in the history of castle Dimitrescu.” (Y/n) nodded, the indirect threat lingering over her head.
Ten days and nothing of significance. (Y/n) groans in frustration. She’d observed every maid and none stood out, none seemed the least bit suspicious and it bugged her to no end. Deciding that some time outside the castle would help clear her head she decided to head for the village for supplies. She hadn’t had time to hunt lately so she figured buying from local butchers should be enough to feed the Dimitrescu’s until she could get out to hunting again. On her way to the local butchers she passed the pub, the siren call of whiskey oh so enticing. One drink. She thought, one drink would be enough for her after all she wanted to remain level headed. “I still can’t believe she’d throw away years of marriage. . . ” a man babbled, slumped on the table he sat at with tears and snot running down his face. The pink shade to his face indicated this man was well passed drunk. (Y/n) paid him no mind as she trekked further into the pub. “I told her not to go . . . Told her death would surely follow. You can’t kill a Lord.” (Y/n)’s ears perked up at this, forgoing her drink she closed in on the man, blood boiling. “What’s this about killing a Lord?” The man gasps in surprise, stumbling back in his seat and hitting the floor. Fucking drunks. “My Lady. . . What brings you to here?” (Y/n) loomed over the man, her foot coming up to rest on his throat, forcing his back into the ground. “I have very little patience for formalities. Cut the shit and tell me what you know about the attack on Castle Dimitrescu.” The man spilled everything, his wife’s sister, her plan of revenge, the legends of a dagger that was strong enough to kill a Lord. His fear fueling him to empty his soul. (Y/n)’s eyes flashed an angry gold, so one of the maids made the attempt on Bela’s life. She dragged the man with her to castle Dimitrescu and before the Lord herself.
Alina could barely lift her head as the sounds of manic giggling drew closer and closer. She could hear whimpering on her left and the rattling of chains at his futile attempt to escape. “Well well well what do we have here?” An airy voice taunted and out of the swarm Daniela materialized, a crazed smile graced her features, lips coated in blood and gore. “Ah yes. . . A spineless man thing who can’t stop spewing nonsense. Cute if you weren’t so hopelessly weak. Oh and you?” Daniela directs her attention to Alina, a mischievous glint in her two toned eyes. “The bitch my sister trusted, what a terrible judge of character that one. Do you want to know what we’re going to do to you?” The sound of yet another swarm approaches, Cassandra appearing with an array of new tools. “Enough talking Dani, let’s show these scum what happens when you bare your teeth at castle Dimitrescu.” The torture lasted for days as their screams echoed the halls. Cassandra and Daniela doing the most without granting them the sweet release of death. A week passed, than another before it was time to publicly execute them. (Y/n) mulled over a few ways to make an example of the couple. She wished Bela was awake so she could give her input but the blonde was stuck in her coma. Lady Dimitrescu finally allowed her daughters and (y/n) to visit her and (y/n) spent most of her time laying next to Bela in her Panthera form, trying with all her might to produce enough heat to accelerate her healing. After finding out about the dagger being stolen Lady Dimitrescu begged mother Miranda for an antidote. The woman agreed and had an antidote prepared the very same day. She warned them however that the affects might take awhile, “could be days could be months”. All they could do was wait. You could always just post them outside the castle walls and let the crows have at them they’ll succumb to their injuries and it’ll send a message that there’s a fate far worse than death. (Y/n) remembers Bela telling her that on one of her first executions, helping the girl send a clear message to the village. No one messes with House Dimitrescu.
There was peace once again in the castle, albeit a strained peace. Tensions were still high as Bela had yet to rise from her coma. Cassandra had started getting more violent, lashing out at anyone and anything with her hair trigger temper. Daniela grew more quiet, opting to read more these days rather than partake in any activities that would have her leave the castle. Lady Dimitrescu still managed her business and frequent meetings with the Lords but she spent smoked more and ate less. (Y/n) never left Bela’s room, after making an example of that wretched couple she curled up beside Bela and just laid there. She didn’t eat and she rarely slept. She spent her days talking to the comatose blonde in hopes that something would stir her from her deep slumber. “You wouldn’t believe it, it was the biggest deer I’d ever downed, you would’ve loved it.” Tears flowed like a constant stream, ceasing to end down (y/n)’s face. “Please wake up Bela, I need you, I . . . I love you.”
~End
Requested by @wolfie22900
AN: I’m so sorry to make this so sad but there may or may not be a second part to this, depending on how I’m feeling…
#bela dimitrescu#cassandra dimitrescu#daniela dimitrescu#re8 dimitrescu#re8 village#castle dimitrescu#alcina dimitrescu#resident evil village#bela dimitrescu x reader#re8 angst#sorry yall
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impetuous ; A HACKEARNEY PLAYLIST
i. meet me in the woods // lord huron ; ii. the killing moon // echo & the bunnymen ; iii. fragile tension // depeche mode ; iv. andromeda // weyes blood ; v. wolves // danny knutelsky ; vi. golden hair // slowdive ; vii. satellite // siøbhan ; viii. i come in peace // soko ; ix. you know me too well // nothing but thieves ; x. this mess we’re in // pj harvey ft. thom yorke ; xi. milk & black spiders // foals ; xii. real love // big thief ; xiii. desire lines // deerhunter
SPOTIFY LINK ; LYRICS SELECTION BELOW (added some notes)
Meet Me in the Woods by Lord Huron
Follow me into the endless night / I can bring your fears to light / Show me yours and I'll show you mine / Meet me in the woods tonight
The Killing Moon by Echo & the Bunnymen
In starlit nights, I saw you / So cruelly, you kissed me / Your lips, a magic world / Your sky, all hung with jewels / The killing moon / Will come too soon /
Fate / Up against your will / Through the thick and thin / He will wait until / You give yourself to him
Fragile Tension by Depeche Mode
There's a strange obsession / That's drawing us nearer / We don't understand it / It never gets clearer /
There's something radical in our hands / Nothing logical to our plans
(Notes: ngl, a lot of Depeche Mode songs remind me of them (blame it on the dark, sexy vibes haha). And I could totally picture Travis being a fan of 80s, new-wave/alt rock music)
Andromeda by Weyes Blood
Let me in if I break / And be quiet if I shatter / Getting tired of looking / You know that I hate the game / Don't wanna waste any more time / You know I didn't hold it up / Love is calling / It's time to give to you / Something you can hold onto / I dare you try
Wolves by Danny Knutelsky
Gone too far, I search for your garden full of pleasure /
Hold me, love / I'm going deeper in the forest
Golden Hair by Slowdive
For I heard you singing through the gloom / Singing and singing, a merry air / Lean out the window, golden hair
(Notes: so in my head, Laura (like Siobhan) can sing (and not just do this weird shriek in the “distraction” scene haha). I’m sure Travis has heard her voice at least once when he had her imprisoned. I would also definitely imagine this song also for a Mermaid!Laura AU...)
Satellite by SIØBHAN
You use your strength just to hide away / Will you come back home to my heart / If I kept all my promises, never got lost / Could we go right back to the start /
Rewrite the history so you could just kiss me
I Come In Peace by Soko
You live your life like you're stuck in hell / And my only goal is to make you feel safe / But like everything I do I fail / I've come in peace, come to rescue you / And thought you're sick I will comfort you / My heart is weak / When I'm not with you /
Won't you man up now and be a hero?
You Know Me Too Well by Nothing but Thieves
Filthy impetuous soul / I wanna give it to you / Oh, just to see what you do / 'Cause I'm so drunk on you / Baby, you're all that I want / I want you all to myself / Oh, but you know me too well
(Notes: Travis @ Laura. Sexy vibes, definitely)
This Mess We’re In by PJ Harvey ft. Thom Yorke
What were you wanting? / I just wanna say / Don’t ever change / And thank you / I don’t think we will meet again /
Sweat on my skin / Oh, this mess we’re in
Milk & Black Spiders by Foals
Cause I've been around two times / And found that you're the only thing I need
(Notes: Two idiots in love. And it took them both a long time to realize that they’re idiots in love.)
Real Love by Big Thief
Oh mama, oh papa / How much blood is worth the draw? /
Real love, real love / Real love makes your lungs black
(Notes: this song is about growing up in a toxic family environment, thinking that love has to hurt... definitely Travis vibes. And Travis only later discovering what “real love” is.)
Desire Lines by Deerhunter
When you were young and your excitement showed / But as time goes by is it outgrown? / Is that the way things go? Forever reaching for the gold / Forever fading black and comes up cold
Walking free, come with me / Far away, everyday
(Notes: this follows the previous song. I like to imagine Laura finally helping Travis to get away from Northkill, away from his family.)
#hope you like it!!#no idea if this will show up in the tags though#hackearney#travis x laura#hackearney playlist#laura x travis#my post#my playlist
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➙ filthy, impetuous soul ┇ vampire!gerard x human!frank ┇ mild dubcon, kink discovery, power bottom gerard, dom/sub ┇ frank is dared by ray to get mikey's brotherma number but there's something... off about him.
#my writing#frerard#frerard fic#grank#triple r#the frerardism of it all#ao3 fic#my chemical romance fic#mcr fic#my fic#oneshot
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