#for every two mundane fics I write I must have at least one decently fucked up one it's the law
Note
for the drabble prompt thing: smth abt how Sammy Lawrence became an ink person?
The Ink Machine is screaming.
He watches as gallons of pure black ink gush out of the nozzle of the thing, straining the floor black and covering up the patches of blood that had soaked into the wood. It had made this noise the last few tries, of course - at this point, Joey was almost used to it.
The problem was that the last few tries hadn’t exactly been successful.
The machine seems to shudder and lurch, and something huge and gooey and black slides out from the nozzle, leaving trails of half-solidified ink clinging to the metal. The machine’s noise steadies to a dull pulsing thud, and Joey finds himself holding his breath as he watches the mass.
“Boris?" He tries after a moment, waiting for a response. A cold sense of dread settles in his stomach as he continues to watch the ever-growing puddle, and he licks his dry lips nervously. “…Sammy?"
The mass of ink suddenly lurches forward, grabbing at the side of the machine for support. The excess ink rolls down as the thing slowly tapes shape - globs of ink slowly refining into five fingers, then four. Something resembling a head and shoulders forms and a now-recognizable arm grasps for one of the cogs on the machine to pull itself upward, white pants and suspenders forming out of the sticky black ink making up the figure.
Joey wheels towards it, leaning forward in his chair, heart racing. This is it. It had taken so many tries, so many employees, so many sacrifices and promises to the Gods that he would supply them with whatever they wished for as long as they helped him make his dream come true, the dream he'd give up anything to achieve. And now it was finally, finally happening.
And then the dream ends.
Boris - no, not Boris, not quite yet - lets out a sharp, choked gasp of pain as his body suddenly stops forming correctly, the area where his legs should have been forming too fast, too sloppily. For every part that’s trying to form, there’s another one melting away back into the puddle. There’s so much ink. Joey’s not sure how much ink is needed for this, pints or quarts or gallons, but there’s too much.
There had been… so many failures. So many attempts at bringing Bendy and friends to life. So many times where things had seemed almost perfect only to fall apart at the last minute, dissolving back into puddles, into faceless screaming things. He had thought he had figured out the perfect candidate this time - unlike the others, Sammy Lawrence and Boris’ shared a natural love for music, and that bond would help the two become one. It had to. He wasn't sure how many more failures he could take.
Joey can barely breathe as he wheels over to the machine, panic taking over his usually calm demeanor. He pulls the spout off of the back of the machine, then the box cutter from his back pocket, leaning against the ink container for stability. The blade makes an angry red slash across his palm and he closes it, allowing extra blood to roll off his hand and into the pitch black ink below. It's not much of a sacrifice, but it's better than nothing.
Please, just let this one wish come true.
Joey falls back into his chair, and the machine screeches, jolts, pumps out a fresh wave of thick black ink that coats the half-melted figure on the ground, then goes still. Joey realizes how tightly he's gripping his chair and he forces himself to relax his grip as the mass of ink on the ground slowly pulls itself - himself - forward until he's fully out of the puddle. Sammy collapses and Joey half expects him to melt away right there, but the form holds despite the ink dripping from it.
“Joey…" The voice is still Sammy’s all right, soft and deep and musical, but it’s tainted with pain and confusion. The former director weakly raises an arm out towards him, ink slowly dripping off of it and onto the floor. “What did... What did you... do… creator?"
He’s not Boris, not even close. But he’s stable, and solid, and can still speak and think and do something other than scream like the others. His wish came true.
And Joey finally relaxes and laughs, and laughs, and laughs.
#bendy and the ink machine#batim#sammy lawrence#joey drew#tw: body horror#tw: self harm#Anonymous#ask#outdesign attempts to write#for every two mundane fics I write I must have at least one decently fucked up one it's the law#figured it would be best to jump straight into the machine itself and not deal with the violent precedent
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Avengers x Supernatural crossover
Summary: A Supernatural AU where the famine horseman hits the Avengers’ area and they all subsequently go nuts- lust and hunger and all kinds of crazy. take over the tower.
A/N: Ok this got really smutty wow whoops, this is the most insane thing I’ve ever written and its quite possibly a hot mess...but thats kinda the point when the entire team loses their inhibitions? It’s my first attempt at a crossover, also the first fic I’ve written in third person and without the reader as a character and ALSO my first time writing Stony AND winter widow.
Warnings: SMUT, alcohol, unprotected sex, public sexual activity/basically an orgy, over eating and drinking??
If you aren’t familiar with Supernatural and have no idea what I’m talking about see the explanation below :) - its essentially based on this scene https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qaYnz8HR6yY
Supernatural explanation: The apocalypse hits and it brings four horseman with it; war, pestilence, famine and death. When the famine horseman arrives he makes basically everyone in town go crazy for whatever it is they crave; whether that be a certain food, food in general, sex, alcohol, (in Sam’s case, demon blood) etc.. and basically they have no will power against it and aggressively indulge themselves to death. I’ve decided the Avengers wouldn’t get QUITE so effected by it but they still can’t resist it fully.
Its a dull day, following a stubborn clump of dull days that has formed a dull week or so in the tower. Its not like the Avengers at all to have such a long quiet period, to have so much time on their hands and so little to do. They’ve trained, sparred, practised shooting, firing and using every weapon they have, they’ve cleaned and tidied, gotten drunk, even did a day of touristy sight seeing as well as cleaned out all their Netflix watch lists. And still the days are dragging on.
Nat’s decided to take up baking after Wanda offered to teach her cook, so now she stands behind the kitchen bench wearing an apron and furiously mixing. Drops of cake batter spatter something every now and then, while Wanda sits at a stool on the other side of the counter, sifting through a magazine and affectionately rolling her eyes at her teammate. A continuous tapping noise rings throughout the room as Sam, Steve and Clint toss a small ball between them while Bucky watches, having grown bored of the mundane game quickly. Tony and Bruce are upstairs occupying themselves with something in the lab, and otherwise the tower is a ghost town, with Vision and Rhodey away at the UN on official business.
“Nat I think your batter’s good now!” Bucky says, wiping some off the side of his face.
She sticks her tongue out at him and laughs, but proceeds to tip the bowl into a cake pan and place it in the oven.
“And how long is that gonna take again Wanda?” she asks.
“About 40 minutes” the Scarlett Witch replies without looking up from her magazine.
Nat nods before strolling over to the couch and plonking herself down.
“And now what then?” she sighs.
“Come on lets finish the last of that Twilight movie series” Bucky offers, sitting down next to her.
“We really have hit a new low,” she mumbles, turning on the TV.
20 minutes into Breaking Dawn part 2, Tony strolls into the room.
“Guys! I’ve got uh, good news and bad news.” They all stop to focus on him, as the Iron Man continues.
“Well, we aren’t going to be bored anymore. There’s something coming and its something big. So big I kind of wish we had more help but I think its gonna have to just be us.” He pauses, gazing around at his fellow teammates and feeling a sense of pride and confidence in their abilities, before taking a deep breath.
“Any of you familiar with the four horsemen?” he asks.
Most of the gang nod and murmur that they are familiar with the concept but not much else.
“It’s like...a biblical thing right?” asks Bucky.
Tony nods, Bruce now behind him. “Yeah, they’re associated with the apocalypse traditionally. But um, well apparently they’re as real as Thor and Loki, and one of them has to decided to pop in and say hi and fuck shit up” Tony says.
Steve sighs before asking “do we even want to know which one?”
“Well,” Tony replies, “debatably, one that is the least dangerous. It’s famine”
“As in, we’re all gonna starve to death?” asks Wanda, wide eyed.
“I’d say its more complicated than that, kiddo” chuckles Clint.
“They aren’t certain what the full impact is gonna be, just that he will have an effect over everyone, at a pretty decent distance but we don’t know the exact radius. I don’t even really know how we can prepare for this to be honest..” Tony trailed off, throwing his hands in the air.
“So when does it hit?” asks Nat.
Tony raises his eyebrows and shrugs, prompting a “great” from Nat.
“Who did you get all this information from?” Steve inquires.
“Fury. He called me.” Ton replies, a bit on the defensive.
Steve remains silent but glares at Tony for a bit. He likes to be the leader of the group; he’s the captain for gods sake. And he’s far more responsible than Tony.
“Alright boys put your testosterone away, we need all our strength and teamwork to combat this it sounds like” Wanda placates.
Tony raises an eyebrow at her, then glances back at Steve before turning away.
The team all head off to their own rooms and apartments to get changed and grab whatever they think might help, though of course everyone’s feeling uncertain and frankly a little worried.
By the time they meet in the conference room to await any news or disturbance, Sam, Clint, Nat and Tony have started feeling a little weird.
He’s eaten lunch only about an hour ago but Sam’s suddenly feeling very peckish. He licks his lip and chews down on the bottom one, trying to occupy his mind with something else.
“So uh, what do you think this is gonna be like?” he asks Clint, who is agitatedly tapping his fingers on the desk.
“What?” Clint snaps, looking at Sam before instantly softening his expression. “Sorry man. I..I don’t know. I’m feeling really edgy about it though.”
Clint looks over to his best friend and frowns at how rigidly she’s sitting, but gets distracted immediately as another wave of it washes over him; the craving for alcohol.
Wanda’s getting her magic fired up, making a chair levitate in front of her before dropping it to the ground and raising it up again, when Steve addresses her.
“I’ve been thinking, you might be the best one to diffuse this situation quickly Wanda. I think your ability to manipulate the mind is going to be a real advantage.”
“Actually Cap we don’t know whats doing to be an advantage here, that’s kind of the point”. Tony snaps.
Bucky raises his eyebrows and smirks at Wanda and Bruce; the only other two in the room paying attention.
“I’m aware of that, Tony” Steve says through gritted teeth. “I’m just being logical and trying to deal with this the best way. Just because we don’t know much about this enemy doesn’t mean I don't know what I’m doing as a captain.”
Tony rolls his eyes and tries to ignore the blood he can practically feel and hear rushing through him, clenching his fists.
After laughing at their stupid friends, Bruce and Wanda start to feel it too. Something intense and just...off. Then it grows and Wanda remembers the cake they left in the oven..it should be nearly done now. Bruce shifts uncomfortably and assures himself of his amazingly developed self control, though beginning to wonder if he should have removed himself from such an unstable situation.
Not longer after it hits Bucky and Steve too. The two super soldiers almost mirror each other as they beginning fidgeting in their positions and become vaguely aware that their blood is also rushing, and that it seems to be rushing to one particular, downstairs spot.
The entire room sits uncomfortably, now having internal battles. They’re somewhat aware that they are all in this predicament, that each of them is experiencing it, but only because they’re all so skilled and highly trained to monitor the environment. Suddenly, Clint snaps to his senses if only for a moment.
He clears his throat; “guys, I think its hit...the famine effect.”
His teammates gaze at him blankly.
“Is anyone else” he continues, “um...craving anything?”
Realisation hits them as hard as the famine did. The problem is, he must be getting closer because the feelings are getting stronger and stronger.
Tony, not even really knowing what he's doing and definitely not able to control himself, starts to palm himself through his pants. Everyones wrapped up in their own thing but Steve notices him, feeling anger and disgust at his audacity to do that in front of everyone, ignoring the fact that he feels something else too. Because actually, its kind of hot. And he was going to yell at Tony and tell him to stop, but now he thinks maybe he’ll watch a bit longer.
Steve licks his lips slowly as Tony closes his eyes and tries to resist the urge, thats getting stronger and stronger, to just stick his hand right into his pants.
Suddenly Sam jumps up and strides quickly from the room. The gang are all sort of snapped out their dazes from this and they follow him into the kitchen to the sound of the fridge door slamming open and watch him help himself animatedly. They’re transfixed for a moment before becoming overwhelmed with their own feelings again. Wanda rushes past him to the oven, forgetting to grab a glove and yelping as her finger makes contact with the scalding hot metal of the cake pan. No matter for the witch, she levitates the cake out of the hot tray and begins devouring it.
Nat, who had been biting her lip and clamping her legs shut ferociously, suddenly yells “Screw it!” and grips the back of Bucky’s neck pulling his lips to hers hungrily. He instantly complies and slams her body back against the wall.
“Wow right, okay then!” Clint exclaims at the pair, before striding over to the bar and helping himself to a 20 year old scotch, drinking straight from the bottle.
“I gotta get out of here” Bruce says to no one in particular. He rushes outside, not knowing how to handle his potential hulk out while he’s in this state, the only one to crave nothing in particular, not being able to identify this overwhelming feeling of desire, just knowing that he’s losing control.
Steve noticed his best friend, who is now grinding against Natasha, trying to relieve his tension and is painfully reminded of his own. He hears a soft moan and is shocked to see Tony, hand in his pants stroking himself, watching the Captain. They make eye contact and Tony’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t stop.
Steve walks over to him slowly, like its the hardest thing he's ever done, but at this point he doesn’t have a choice.
“Take your hand out of your god dam pants” he orders in a low voice, and Tony slowly complies, eyes glued to Steve’s blue ones.
Steve then thrusts his own hand inside his teammate’s pants, doing something he’s tried to suppress the fantasy of- the fantasy that sneaks into his head late at night when he can’t sleep- for god knows how long, grabbing his frenemies cock firmly.
“Oh GOD Cap!” Tony is on the verge on losing control completely and thrusts into Steve’s hand.
Steve begins rapidly stroking him and groans, disoriented and single-mindedly focused on this innate task; “Fuck Tony..I don’t know what I’m doing I-” he trails off. He succumbs to his urge further, leans over and attaches his lips to Tony’s neck, making the latter gasp loudly.
“We should’ve known–ah” Tony interrupts himself with a moan, “this would be the best way to handle all that tension between us.”
Steve raises his head to give him a ‘shut up’ kind of look, before grabbing either side of Tony’s face and bringing his lips to his own, kissing his teammate’s smart-ass mouth aggressively.
Everyone else in the room either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care what the rest are up to, so engrossed in their own current actions. Wanda’s stomach has begun screaming as she is already three quarters through the fresh vanilla sponge Nat has completely forgotten about, having been so excited to produce it less than an hour ago. Sam, on the other hand, isn’t slowing down any time soon. He wraps an entire block of cheese up in salami and munches contentedly, though far from fulfilment and satisfaction.
Clint has begun hicupping, with all instincts telling him to STOP drinking he now stands still, fighting against himself, the bottle frozen halfway to his mouth. He knows they need to snap out of it but dam it they can’t, he’s thinking of his wife and kids as he tries with all his might to put the bottle down while also trying to suppress the equally disruptive thoughts in his mind saying ‘nobody else is fighting it..you aren’t stronger than them...give in to it’.
A loud, female moan echoes throughout the floor. Bucky and Nat had enough of their wits about them to make it around the corner into the somewhat privacy of the hallway before ripping away each others clothing. Bucky had hooked his metal arm underneath Nat’s legs as she jumped up onto him, pushing her against the wall and thrusting straight into her, bringing them back to now.
Bucky pounds into the girl he has always been attracted to but had never felt enough desire to act upon, now wanting nothing more than to ravish her over and over as she writhes in his hands. He feels her wet slick folds envelop him with every thrust and groans into the crook of her neck.
For once, Nat happily lets her male colleague take charge as she succumbs to pleasure and the feeling of receiving something she craves so, so badly. The Winter Soldier is merciless as he drives into her, filling her wonderfully and sending her senses into overdrive. She has never felt so blissfully overwhelmed. Her stomach tightens and her pleasure builds and she whimpers, managing to stutter “Bucky..fuck i, I’m gonna come” before it crashes through her.
She shudders and shakes turning to putty, thankfully still fully supported by Bucky who if anything pounds into her harder after that encouraging display. Exhausted but still wanting more she happily complies, wrapping her hands around his neck when she gathers the energy and beginning to bob up and down, riding his cock the best she can, eliciting a deep moan from Bucky.
Meanwhile, Steve continues to jerk Tony off, now craving his own release as well.
“If this doesn’t stop soon, you know I’m going to have to take you into the conference room and fuck you” Steve murmurs into his ear, Tony bites his lip at the notion.
“Whatever you think is best, Cap” he responds lethargically.
Steve nods and yanks his hand back and grips Tony by the wrist, marching out of the room.
Wanda, having nearly demolished the cake, gazes around realising the indescribably strong feeling of desire is still there, but it has changed. Her hunger quelled she now feels...lust? She definitely desires something other than food. But maybe she can fight it. She swallows the last mouthful of cake and grips the bench determinedly, trying to clear her mind.
“Fuck it” she murmurs and strides over to a positively drunk Clint. She places her palms either side of his face and kisses him square on the mouth.
Clint lurches backwards, stumbling in his intoxicated state. “Kiddo-WHOA slow down there wha-what are you doing! God I need another drink.”
His whisky soaked breath is off-putting, washing over her face, yet the unsatisfied craving in her remains, though she knows how much of a mistake her action was. She turns away and frustratedly bites down on her finger, willing the feelings to subside.
Sam is less than four feet away from them but he hasnt even noticed the interaction, his face being stuck in the fridge that is rapidly being drained of its contents.
In the hallway, Bucky and Nat are still going at it after he’s come inside her, his ejaculate dripping down her legs as they continue to desperately thrust at an unrelenting pace. She bites down on his neck hard enough to break the skin and tiny droplets of blood appear from the wound.
Steve slams the conference room door shut and pushes Tony backwards until his legs hit the desk. Without hesitation he spins him around and bends him over.
“You sure you can handle this Stark?” he asks, with no intention of stopping now.
“Just fuck me already Rogers” Tony replies, hastening to undo his belt.
Somewhere near the Avengers compound, the officials working with famine receive information that Fury and his team are aware of their presence and working against them. As suddenly as they had arrived, famine and his accomplices depart the area.
Its fast and intense, like waking up from one of those dreams where you’ve fallen from a height and your heart jumps. Feeling like they had all been dowsed in cold water to sober them up, the Avengers come to their senses.
Steve’s holding his proud American cock in his hand, had he really been about to put it in Tony? Tony. Who has stood up as fast as if he'd sat on a pin and yanked his pants back up. The men both awkwardly clear their throats, looking anywhere but at each other. Steve sort of half nods before pivoting on his heel and striding determinedly back into the main rooms. Tony rubs his hand across his jaw, shaking his head.
Their discomfort holds nothing, however, to their teammates. Nat finds herself suspended in the air, Bucky’s metal arm hooked under her knees while his chest presses her against the wall. He’s still hard, and still inside her. Wet, sticky and very messy, their eyes widen as they stare at each other, faces an inch apart. Clumsily, quickly they separate and he puts her back on the ground. They attempt to redress with nothing really to clean up with.
“Sooo we just...” Bucky starts.
“Yup,” replies Nat, “famine huh?”
Bucky clenches his teeth and nods, however the two manage to not feel too ashamed given the extremity of the situation. Nat tends to make everything easier and they both have to admit, they’ve always had chemistry.
“Come on” Bucky laughs, “I guess we gotta all go and...debrief?” he lazily throws an arm over her shoulder and they walk together.
The first thing Sam notices is that he has never been so full in his life. Not when he went to three thanksgiving dinners in one day, not when he got back from Afghanistan and hit the Taco Bell, McDonalds and KFC drive thru’s all in a row, never. He groans and clutches his stomach, thinking to himself how famine did a number on him, being completely oblivious to what the rest of his team went through.
Wanda is mortified. She tried to kiss Clint. She did kiss him. After scoffing an entire cake. Actually, mortified doesn’t really begin to describe it. She glances at Clint but he's running to the sink to vomit. Guiltily she can’t help but be relieved; hopefully he will have been too drunk to remember.
Steve, Nat and Bucky come back into the room looking sheepish, followed by Tony. The air is thick with tension until Sam breaks it.
“So guys, that was some experience huh? But... I ate everything in the fridge, how was everyone else dealing with their cravings?”
#avengers fic#marvel fic#supernatural fic#avengers x supernatural#marvel x supernatural#supernatural x avengers#avengers smut#supernatural smut#marvel smut#bucky fic#steve fic#tony fic#bucky barnes#steve rogers#tony stark#natasha romanoff#wanda maximoff#bruce banner#sam wilson#clint barton#bucky barnes smut#bucky smut#steve rogers smut#steve smut#tony stark smut#tony smut#natasha romanoff smut#winter window#bucky x nat#nat x bucky
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