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lizard-shifter-noms · 6 months ago

Text

Still Subject to Change Chapter 15 (NEW)

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Hello everyone! i decided to repost arc 1 of SSTC

(the chapters were way too long and had a bunch of typos but hopefully this will make reading easier)

this Story contains Vore, Dont like dont read.

if there are still any grammatical errors i’m sorry.

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I wasn’t sure how long I stayed unconscious for but I woke up to something repeatedly tapping at my face as well as some noise I could not Identify for the life of me.

I really wanted to go back to the warm comforting darkness but I knew that I should get up even if I would rather continue to keep my eyes closed.

I wasn’t sure where exactly i was but i knew that everything Fucking hurt a lot and wanted it to stop.

The noise came back, this time louder and clearer than before and I could finally make out that it was someone talking.

“Donovan please wake up! Please!”

The voice was very familiar and I was confused.

Why would I know someone well enough to know their voice?

I was a street rat, an unwanted bastard, So why was the voice I heard so full of concern?

I was pulled a bit more into consciousness when I felt an excruciating pain in my abdomen from Something applying pressure on me.

Or in me? At the moment I hurt too much to care but I opened my eyes a crack anyway, curiosity overriding pain for just a second.

The things I saw were dimly lit greenish gray walls and someone standing in front of me.

Something was off though, the person stood close enough to appear slightly blurry but seemed to still be really small?

“Donovan! Are you okay? Please be okay!”

The Redhaired form rushed at me and clung to my neck in a weird sort of hug.

“Robin?”

I croaked recognizing that mop of ginger waves everywhere.

He went back to where I could see his face and I noticed that his eyes were slightly puffy.

Had he been crying?

Before I could continue that train of thought a new wave of pain went out from my guts causing me to hiss out from the awful sensation.

“Don’t move! That’s just making it worse!”

Another voice called from somewhere I couldn’t see and I complied, recognizing Arthur’s voice.

At this point I wished that this awful pain would finally stop.

Oh. wait. FUCK!

Rikaad was still in my pouch, the very same pouch that had been horribly assaulted with a blade and suffered at least two stab wounds.

No wonder I was hurting so bad! Lying sideways on the glowy moss hadn’t made things better of course.

But at least the glowy moss was better than collapsing in the snow.

Wait a second, I wasn’t actively stopping Rikaad from stabbing me again by squishing my pouch!

But he still wasn’t doing anything it felt like, just a limp form lying as far away as possible from the wounds he had caused.

Even though all the pain I could tell he wasn’t moving and that worried me greatly.

Rikaad was a stubborn man, he wouldn’t just- He wouldn’t just lie there and do nothing.

For a second my mind conjured the horrifying image of him having drowned in my blood that was no doubt still trickling from the wounds he made.

Despite knowing how much pain it would cause me I tentatively flexed a few muscles just to make sure he was still alive.

I somehow ended up flexing my ribs outward a bit instead and he jerked, trying to brace himself from the sudden movement.

“What the fuck are you doing i said don’t move!”

Arthur snapped from wherever he was.

I glanced around trying to find where he was and saw him sitting between my hands and middle, some bandages in hand and trying to wash out the bite wound Rikaad had made.

Where the hell did he even get bandages? I didn’t know but they looked suspiciously like strips from my handkerchief.

I chose not to care about it, the thing had been old anyway and at least like this it was useful one last time.

This time I did what Arthur said and instead turned my attention to Robin again who was hugging my ear like his life depended on it.

“What-”

“I’m so glad you woke up again”

Looking at him to the best of my ability as he was still hugging my fuzzy ear I could practically feel the worry radiating off of him.

He really must have thought I wouldn’t wake up again after I fell unconscious.

I wish I could move to hug him but I was pretty sure that if I did that the entire pain I had beforehand would flare up again.

And at least whatever Arthur was doing seemed to have helped just the tiniest bit.

My entire torso still hurt like hell though, and I didn’t dare move in case I upset the wounds again.

Rikaad was still lying completely docile and moving as little as he could while confined in an ever shifting environment.

It was really weird and kind of off putting that he was just- just lying there but I was VERY glad he hadn’t decided to cut me open while I had been out of it.

I wondered if I could move my head without straining my torso at all and slowly turned my head towards Robin who looked up at the movement.

He scrambled to get in front of my face again, stumbling once and then was back to standing before me, still looking as worried as ever.

“How are you? Can I do anything to help?”

His usual chipper demeanor had vanished completely, replaced with nothing but worry as he looked at me, eyes still a bit red.

I wasn’t sure what exactly he could do to help as I didn’t really know the extent of my injuries, hell I didn’t even know what had happened since I got to the cave.

Well I probably could just ask, and it would make Robin feel at least a little useful and maybe i could figure out why Rikaad was so weirdly calm.

I didn’t dare speak to the man, I wasn’t keen on another beating as this time I WOULD die.

“Say what the fuck happened? I know I keeled over and then?”

I didn’t dare ask why Rikaad had not cut himself out, the mental image would probably make him sick, and me too if i was honest.

“Well when you fell over you said he was hurting you, so we yelled at him to stop then Arthur shoved me out of the way and started yelling, i think he was cursing?

But uhh he did stop and Arthur explained stuff? I think he did get some things wrong but Rikaad understands now i think”

Well at least that, I still didn’t dare speak to him though.

I didn’t WANT to talk to him, my physical injuries weren’t the only thing hurting right now and honestly? I was a bit sour that he didn’t believe even after I had promised twice in a row that he’d be okay.

Well nothing to do about it now, best to just let it be.

“Say how long was I out for? I still feel awful”

He glanced at the cave entrance, apparently trying to gauge how light it was outside.

“I’m not sure but long enough for the storm to pass”

Not exactly the information I was hoping for but at least without the storm we had one less problem.

Now it was only back to about five other problems, We were still away from Kamerasca and now I was hurt with no way of actually helping me.

Even if by some miracle we found a doctor or medic out here in the middle of fucking nowhere they wouldn’t know what to do with my freaky anatomy.

Besides, I was still a bastard so I wouldn’t receive help anyway, if not outright killed.

Before I could think of anything else to say or ask we were interrupted by Arthur.

“Donovan? Do you think it’s possible to get Rikaad out? I don’t think having him staying there is going to help your wounds, i mean he did say that they mostly stopped bleeding but uhh yeah”

And there was the question i had dreaded, it wasn’t surprising that he wanted out but i knew that if i just attempted to do so would rip my pouch to shreds.

“I want to, i really do, but if i try that i’m going to rupture something”

I winced, I didn’t want him in there anymore than he did but I wasn’t keen on dying either.

And everything still hurt so much!

It was a hot throbbing pain that made me feel like someone switched my heart with my pouch and there was this underlying feeling of nausea all the time telling me to get rid of the uncomfortable lump sitting in my Pouch.

Arthur just nodded and went back to check the bandages once more.

I could tell he was nervous and decided not to point it out or tell him that he didn’t have to check the bandages every ten minutes.

At this point I could almost feel the exact shape of the gashes Rikaad had made and they weren’t exactly benign.

I could tell that it was one longer slash above a single stab where the knife had twisted itself into the flesh during the time I had squished Rikaad.

There was a slight shift inside and I had to bite my tongue to not let out a pained hiss.

Rikaad noticed my discomfort anyway and went back to being extremely still.

If he wasn’t moving he was so still that I could mistake him for a corpse and it was kinda unnerving but at least it kept the pain to a minimum.

Though my ear flicked when he spoke the first words to me since I had fallen unconscious.

“If you can get a needle and thread to me i could sew the wounds shut and reduce the risk of reopening them”

My heart sped up a bit at his proposal, sewing a wound wasn’t an easy task even if you weren’t confined in a fleshy bag that moved while its host was breathing.

Not to mention that he had no light to work with and I would not let anyone attempt to do that when they couldn’t see anything.

He did not move as he spoke, simply waiting for a reply.

“I- you don’t have light, how are you going to sew it when you can’t see what you are doing? Also I’m NOT going to swallow a needle! Thats fucking dangerous!”

“I am not saying that you should swallow a bare needle but you could find a container for it, as for the light there should be a lantern with glass and a candle with my stuff, if im fast enough it wont even get warm”

I hated that he had a logical solution for all of these but in the end he was once again right.

“Fine! Just- just be careful?

Everything still hurts and you are not making that better!”

I might have sounded a bit snappy but I decided after all that happened I was allowed to sound sour.

“Of course and, whether you believe me or not i am truly sorry for what i did”

“Just help fix it.

I don’t want to talk about it right now okay?

ARTHUR! Can you find a needle, some thread and a container for them? Also some lantern that's with Rikaad’s stuff”

Arthur’s head snapped to me before scrambling to get upright and sift through all our stuff for the required items.

“Oh what can I do to help? I want to help too!”

While it was nice of him to offer i wasn’t exactly sure if Robin Could help, I knew he was the most clumsy out of all of us and I didn’t want him accidentally dropping the needle.

Finding it again would be a nightmare.

“You could uhh- you could do something to draw away my attention from having to be sewed up?

Having something distracting me would be appreciated!”

He nodded enthusiastically and then his brain seemed to be buffering on what to do.

His eyes flicked over me before settling once again on my ears.

He went over to the one I wasn’t currently lying on and began to massage it.

Well this was something his tiny hands were good at, Having a positive sensation to distract me from the negative one was a good idea.

Not to mention that it was actually relaxing and successfully calmed me down enough to not flinch when Arthur returned with a tiny metal box in hand that usually contained the fire starters we used and the lantern Rikaad mentioned.

Strangely enough he was also dragging a piece of a thick branch behind him.

At least the lantern was round with little sunk in windows so breaking the glass would be difficult.

“I have the stuff! And something you can bite when Rikaad sews you up”

Ah so that was why he brought that log over, it was a nice gesture and i was sure it would keep me from howling out in pain.

Now for the hard part, actually getting the unpleasant looking metal box and lantern down to Rikaad.

I had never actually attempted to swallow something while lying sideways, why should I have?

So this was gonna pose a problem, how would I even get it down without choking?

Arthur seemed to have had the same thought as he glanced at my arms, One of which I was lying on and the other holding my guts as gently as I could and moving would probably cause more pain.

“Uhh you know what I’m just gonna toss them? No wait, one contains glass, uhhh how should we? Like you can’t move, what should we do?”

Good question, but I had no answer to that either.

Before either of us could think of something Robin had moved from his spot and went up to Arthur.

He took the items out of a confused looking Arthur’s hands and went in front of my face so that I had to cross my eyes to see him.

“I have an idea! Open up!”

He gently nudged at my mouth with his elbow and i was so confused that i simply complied.

I did not expect however that he would just stick his entire torso in my mouth.

I was so surprised that I almost jerked my head back but I didn’t dare move.

I did not want to end up hurting him, at all.

Looking at Arthur for help i could see that he had a shocked expression, He didn’t expect that either huh?

I tried my best to keep my mouth completely still but my tongue seemed to try and act on its own so I had to incredibly restrain myself.

I could feel Robin leaning in even further with his arm above his head one item in each hand.

Was he just gonna shove it down my throat?

The answer to that was yes as he started to do just that.

The sensation of having something small and pointy shoved into my pharynx was rather unpleasant but I bore it and prepared myself to send it to the pouch.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see that Arthur had grabbed one of Robin’s legs to keep him from going too far in.

I was grateful for that as it reduced the risk of me accidentally swallowing him and inflicting even more pain upon myself.

Though i had to say that swallowing the small things was far from pleasant as they were hard and had pokey bits.

I couldn’t believe that I would actually prefer to swallow an entire person instead of these boxy things.

And I was really glad that Arthur had decided to hold on to Robin as he had been dragged a bit further back when I swallowed and had to be pulled out a bit.

The Stuff Rikaad wanted reached him just as Arthur hauled Robin out of my mouth.

“Warn a guy before you do something like this, please that was not what i expected don’t do that again”

He just nodded and tried to get spit out of his hair using an already saliva soaked sleeve.

He stared at it for a moment and grimaced.

“I’m going to wash at the pond, I’ll be right back!”

He slipped out from Arthur’s grip and made a beeline for the small body of lukewarm water.

Arthur had meanwhile moved closer to my pouch again, asking Rikaad if he had found the items.

I was glad that they did not bump or scrape the wounds on their entry but the peace would last long now as Rikaad would sew them as soon as he had light.

Speaking of light, I hoped he would manage to actually get the candle to light up.

While I wasn��t exactly keen on having a literal fire in my guts it was better than having Rikaad work in total darkness.

From the movement that sent a new pain signal to my head he had found them and was preparing himself to play doctor.

“I have found everything, it wasn’t difficult as half on it landed on top of my head”

I would have laughed at the mental image if I wasn’t sure that it would just bring a new wave of pain.

While we waited for Rikaad to set up his stuff Robin came back with partially dried hair and clothing and resumed his place next to my ear.

He continued with the gentle massage but I couldn’t help and get the image of someone petting a cat in my head.

Well not like anyone else would ever know about this.

“I have threaded the needle, prepare yourself i will begin stitching you back together”

I tried my best not to tense.

I really did, but the needle felt like a wasp sting every time it went in and out of my flesh.

I hissed in pain and bared my teeth in a grimace, I hated this!

It hurt and I couldn’t even move lest I risked making it worse.

Arthur, seeing my plight, dragged the log he previously searched out over to my face.

It was a wonder he could even hold the thing as it was at least as wide as a person and twice as long.

“Here you can bite this, maybe it’ll help?”

He almost dropped the slightly curved wood on his foot and stumbled back a bit but it was close enough that I could take it between my teeth.

Between being able to bite something and Robin still gently petting my ear it got at least bearable to have my insides sewn up.

I did however hope that Rikaad would be done soon, not just because it hurt like hell but also because I could start to taste a faint hint of smoke at the back of my throat.

There was a particularly bad twinge as Rikaad called out again.

“Almost done! I just need to tie the thread”

And I bit down on the wood stronger than I had before with a pained sound.

It cracked and suddenly I had a mouth full of splintered wood and sawdust while larger pieces just fell to the floor.

I didn’t think I would be able to bite through solid wood and stared at the pieces of it for a horrified second, not comprehending what just happened.

“What the fuck?”

Arthur pressed out in a higher pitch than normal, staring at it with wide eyes.

Robin hadn’t seen exactly what had happened as he was basically next to my neck underneath my ear but he had stopped petting it and curiously looked over to the mess.

“Oh you are going to have to pick out all the smaller pieces later”

He ducked back to his spot now weirdly calm and quiet.

Aw Fuck, scaring them was the last thing i wanted to do but of course i somehow still managed to do it anyway.

At least Rikaad was done sewing my insides up as the stinging sensation was gone now and the taste of smoke slowly disappeared from my mouth.

As much as having him play doctor was awful, I had to admit that it actually was a bit better now, probably because the wound covered less of the skin there and didn’t run a risk of opening itself with every motion.

For the first time in hours my body was able to relax a bit again and I just lay there with my head on the moss feeling just a tiny bit better.

Arthur quietly leaned on my shoulder next to Robin and slid down to the floor looking rather tired.

Right, I didn’t even know what time it was, or how long it took to sew me up.

Before I could ask though, I heard Rikaad again.

“You should sleep, the rest will aid you in your recovery”

I could feel he was lying on his back, he probably had the stuff he had used put on his chest to not lose it.

He better not lose it, I didn’t want random items to be left behind.

He was right though, sleeping would help even if it probably would take a while to actually fall asleep with how everything was still aching.

At least the other two wouldn’t have much of a problem with that judging by how Robin was slumped over and cuddling up to my neck.

Arthur wasn’t faring much better either, he was slouched next to my shoulder and looking only minutes away from sleep.

Everyone’s adrenaline must have worn out and left them feeling tired, me included.

So best to heed Rikaad’s advice and simply rest till the next morning.

Waking up my brain took a few seconds to start working again, but the feeling of something in my aching pouch made the memories rush back to me and I prepared for a sudden onslaught of pain from the wounds.

As nothing happened beyond the constant ache i recalled that Rikaad had sewn it up yesterday, and subsequently was still in there.

Glancing down I could see Arthur slumped against my shoulder in a rather uncomfortable looking position.

Robin was also still cuddled up to my neck, I couldn’t see him but I could definitely feel his little body there.

I wasn’t sure if I was the only one awake as Rikaad wasn’t moving, but I knew from taking shifts watching that he could lay there like a corpse and still be wide awake.

I deemed it best not to do anything as I didn’t want to wake the two curled up outside of me.

They looked like they needed the rest, at least Arthur definitely did, and Robin had never been a morning person so i let them sleep until they woke up themselves.

Though, Arthur looked a bit miserable with how he was slumped over, And with how he held his head that couldn’t be good for his neck.

So I decided to carefully move for the first time since I collapsed on this spot.

Slowly raising the arm I wasn’t lying on closer to my head and making sure the movement didn’t disturb the freshly sown wounds in my gut.

When there was nothing besides a weird pins and needles sensation from not moving my arm I gently brushed the splintered wood from yesterday away from me.

Slowly as not to wake him I slid my palm under Arthur and put him next to Robin in a more comfortable position that wouldn’t strain his neck so much.

Before I could take my hand back though something latched onto my thumb and wouldn’t let go.

Robin had grabbed it in his sleep.

Damnit, now I couldn’t move.

Well I WAS ordered to rest anyway so I could deal with this for a couple of hours until everyone else woke up.

Before falling asleep again I tried to focus on the damage that was done on my insides and how bad it was now that Rikaad sewed it up.

It didn’t seem like it got any worse at least, and it had stopped hurting as much as it did before.

It was still aching of course but nowhere near as bad as at the start and thus a lot more manageable.

Reassured that I was now getting better, I fell back asleep with my hand still used as a pillow by Robin.

PREVIOUS / NEXT / OVERSIGHT

#sstc #lizards writing #vore story #giant/tiny #soft vore #extreme cuddling #g/t story #g/t vore #v0re #sfw vore #Barmea #nsx vore

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softevnstan · 2 years ago

Note

From the NSFW genarator

reader handing Bucky Barnes a bowl of cream/chocolate/honey and telling them to spread them on their own body where they want it eaten by reader. Bucky Barnes eagerly complies, and everything starts (or ends) with a sloppy smear on person Bucky Barnes's lips.

pairing. bucky barnes x gender neutral!reader

summary. for valentine's day, bucky brings you a bowl of whipped cream and strawberries. with a game proposition, you very quickly come to learn you're hungry for a different type of cream.

warnings. bucky loves you with all his heart but he's also a hard dom at heart. misuse of strawberries and whipped cream, dom/sub undertones, spitting/spit, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, food play - whipped cream, facefucking, petnames (specifically 'doll' and 'sugar', but these are intended to be for any partner, not just f), fluff, pre-established relationship SMUT - minors DNI. reader's bits are not mentioned in depth here so gender is ambiguous, i like all of my stories to be as inclusive as i can make them :)

a.n. hi, nonny, i wanted this to be out on valentine's day but some things in my personal life held that up. additionally: kinda interpreted this a little bit of the way i wanted to and the way i thought i'd best enjoy writing it, so bucky is the one with the game in mind (bonus: listen to this song as your background music like i did to add to the experience) -- reader is nerdy and likes things like books and candles and reading (reader is me projecting lbr)

also winterdevil friendship briefly mentioned bc i can

w.c. 7.3k

You were only a few pages into your new book - ‘Good Omens’; You’d heard good things about the story in its witty writing and amusing tale.

Bucky had been paying attention when you’d both gone on a bookshop date and scoured the shelves hopefully for the novel. Even when asking about the bookstore’s directory, the worker reluctantly let you know the book wasn’t in stock. You’d shrugged the loss off with a warm smile; ‘Better luck next time, right?’

Imagine your delight when Bucky brought you a red gift bag with four golden arrows decoratively laid horizontally and stacked upon one another with the words ‘Happy Valentine’s Day’. Inside the bag had even more delightful contents; Peeling past the elegant golden tissue paper, you were excited to find your very own copy of the novel you’d been unable to find in stores. Additionally was a box of chocolates and a candle scented ‘Rose & Apple’.

“Aw, Bucky,” you swooned, “I thought we said no gifts…?” “I know,” Bucky admitted, moving around the kitchen island to come to stand behind you; Arms of flesh and vibranium slowly winding around your waist to hug your body to his own, settling into a comfortable hold so naturally. “But I like seeing you smile.”

You looked fondly at the cover of the book, thumb gently brushing over the paperback cover before setting it down on the counter. You bit your lips together in an appreciative smile, and you felt Bucky’s grin against the side of your neck where he tucked away. Nose rubbing affectionately against your pulse before pressing a chaste kiss.

“...At least now you won’t feel surprised when I tell you I got you a few gifts of your own,” you reveal as you turn your head to usher Bucky’s chin up. “Oh, of course, you got me something anyways!” Bucky huffed on an amused laugh, eyes crinkled in the corners with his smile, and your heart was left to melt.

He nosed into you lovingly, nuzzling and then pressing foreheads together. You took the opportunity to drape your arms around Bucky’s shoulders in a warm embrace; the rest of your quiet valentine’s day was spent peacefully with expensive sushi ordered to your shared apartment, moving the furniture and putting his records on to sway together playfully with giggles and kisses, then wrapped up with movies in the living room and popcorn kernels in between the couch cushions from the way you’d been pelting pieces at one another. You needed no fancy dinners or dates. You both were capable of making a night-in a remarkable memory all on its own.

Though the favor you called in from Zemo wound up with gifting Bucky a signed copy of ‘The Hobbit’ signed by J.R.R. Tolkien himself, and that was pretty good at also making an evening remarkable. The absolute awe in Bucky’s eyes and the way he’d gone slack-jawed when unwrapping the book was worth the six digits that were poured into the cost. Zemo had more than enough to spend and was happily willing to pay off his debt. A book was child’s play for Baron - simple.

You'd only been a few pages into your new book; Having been eager to begin drinking in the story as soon as possible. Bucky knew you were a bookworm; it's part of what you two had so in common - Bucky knew how to appreciate a good story, too. Eagerly diving into the paperback and excitedly tearing through pages was what you did best; On Multiple occasions where Bucky and you had surprised one another with blind-book dates and annotated novels for one another, reading was perhaps a love language between the both of you.

So you’d think Bucky would’ve expected that from you as soon as that book was between your nimble fingers. Good luck with any attempts that may sway your attention or distract you as a whole; everyone should know it’s useless to try. But Bucky wasn’t everyone else. Bucky knew you and knew how to wriggle his way in between you and a good book.

And his key tool for that this evening seemed to be a wooden food tray with a bowl of hulled strawberries and a tub of whipped cream, and then an additional can that made you raise a brow. Any skepticism was dropped in moments given the natural delight you felt with Bucky in a room. When it was just the two of you, he was the sweetest man you’d ever met. “Surprise,” Bucky beamed softly, earning an amused smile from you in the process. He moved from the archway of the kitchen to step into the living room, rounding the coffee table to take his seat beside you on the couch.

“Strawberries? You shouldn’t have,” you hum appreciatively, picking up your bookmark to hold your page; You didn’t dog-ear your pages like some savage.

“Strawberries and Valentine’s Day go hand in hand last I checked. Whipped cream just makes it even better.” the soldier defends, earning a playful roll of your eyes.

“You’re makin’ me feel like a chump here, Bucky, we said no gifts and surprises,” you softly protest albeit with little sternness to your voice. Book abandoned on the side table of the couch, you leaned to reach for a piece of fruit.

“Ah ah ah,” Bucky stops you, vibranium hand coming to cover the mouth of the bowl. “This isn’t for nothin’, I wanna play a game, sweetheart…” The sultry purr to Bucky’s voice insinuates he’s up to no good. “Huh?” You pause, confused as you look between Bucky’s hand and the bowl. A game? “I should’ve known there’d be a catch. You’re a menace, James.” The words are light and teasing; No real harm behind them.

“Oh quit bein’ so dramatic,” Bucky playfully chides with a teasing pinch to your outer thigh - it makes you squeak in delight and burst into soft laughs before shooing his hand away. Bucky absolutely thrives on your smile and laugh; It drives him crazy. “I’m not dramatic, I’m melodramatic!” you titter happily. “Well, if by ‘melodramatic’ you mean ‘theatrical’,” Bucky commented with a mischievous grin as he safely set the tray on the coffee table. You took the liberty of pulling the throw pillow you’d been laying on and help it live up to its name; Hitting Bucky in the shoulder with the cushion for his ‘theatrical’ comment.

“You love me and my melodrama theatrics all the same, don’t act like you don’t.” “Alas, it’s true.” he sighs sweetly, nothing but love in his gray eyes as he says it; Smitten. The softness of it helps melt some of the banter that had been building. “...And what was this ‘game’ you were talking about, exactly, Bucky?”

Bucky’s eyes light up with arousal, wetting his lips and treating the question as though he couldn’t wait to answer. “Have you ever plaid chicken before, sunshine?” Bucky inquires, and your head shakes side to side. “Alright, I brought out whipped cream. Wherever one person smears whipped cream, the other has to lick it off. The first one to refuse - or chicken out - loses.”

Your own gaze widens with delight at the sound of the provocative game. At least a game was something you could get behind, and it definitely had a means of spicing things up with Bucky; Not that your sex life was boring, but something new every now and again was exciting for the both of you.

“Aw,” Bucky tuts sympathetically, “I can see it on your face, poor thing. The way your eyes lit up… Sheesh, people are gonna think m’not takin’ care of my babydoll.” The heat that rises to your face is familiar and leaves your chest feeling fluttery. “You do take care of me, Bucky,” you softly utter, squeezing your thighs together. “I wanna play.” the words are airy when they leave your lips, and the voice in which you speak makes Bucky stifle a soft groan in reply.

“Knew you would, baby. Such a perfect little thing, always onboard for whatever I want to try.” Bucky hums his approval and something inside of you swoons for the praise. He even takes a moment to use his fingers and tenderly brush the stray hairs from your face; touching you nothing but gently.

“Uh huh,” you confirm with a jerky nod and a doe-eyed look as Bucky smiles, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. He reaches for the container of whipped cream, popping the lid off. “Wait.” The thought creeps up on you.

Bucky stills briefly, eyes flickering to your face in a brief haze of concern. Pausing the act he’s been putting on for a moment to assure you’re not being genuine when you ask him to ‘wait’. You swallow around the tightness in your throat, attention solely on Bucky as you watch his studying face. Leave it to Bucky to be ready to fret over you at the drop of a dime.

“What if I win?” Bucky’s expression falls for a brief moment before twisting into disbelief and amusement. He laughs, entertained but relieved that’s where your concerns lie rather than somewhere more concerning.

“If you win, huh? Hmm,” Bucky takes a deliberate moment to hum and you shift with eager anticipation. Curious for whatever delicious thoughts may be brewing in that beautiful head of his. “Why don’t you choose — What would my babydoll want as a prize…?” the drawl of his voice nearly makes you squirm where you sit on the couch.

Your mind runs wild with ideas for half a moment before settling on something simple; “You have to go down on me, mouth only. No hands to help.” A swell of pride in your chest at the thought, you could already imagine Bucky looming over you and the warmth of his breath on your core before delving in without the aid of his hands.

Bucky seems to like the idea as well if the devilish way he watches you is anything to go off of.

“Sounds like a deal, and if you lose, you go down on me, sunshine.” You would hardly consider that a losing game.

“Sounds like a fair match - may the best player win,” you chuckle, the words a meager attempt to take back the reigns on your confidence and not become complete mush for this man by default. Bucky had this charming way of entrancing you. He did it to everyone that got to know him, half the time Bucky didn’t even need to think about it.

“I’ll get us started,” the sergeant takes lead - setting the lid of the whipped cream container on the coffee table and using a spoon he’d brought along with him to scoop up a dollop from the container. Messily, Bucky smears a dab across his bottom lip - all too aware of what he’s doing. Bucky may look innocent, but there are devil horns holding up that halo. You wonder if that’s a reflection of his friendship with Matt.

The grin Bucky wears is devilish when he looks at you; Eyes piercing and somehow even seductive with a swipe of whipped cream on his bottom lip. A soft giggle emits from your being before leaning to pluck up a strawberry. You use the piece of fruit to swipe along Bucky’s bottom lip, successfully scooping up traces of the whipped cream before taking a bite of the strawberry. The taste is ripe and sweet, no wonder they’re occasionally considered a form of natural aphrodisiac.

Bucky’s flesh hand finds your wrist tenderly after the first bite, causing you to arch a brow.

“Licking, sunshine.” Bucky corrects. “Pick at strawberries all you want, but the rules of the game required you to use your mouth. Otherwise, that’s not nearly as fun, is it?”

It’s moments like those that made you feel all light and fuzzy. When Bucky talks to you as though you were a helpless and useless thing; It makes your brain fog up with cotton with the way he speaks down to you.

“No, Bucky,” You exhale sweetly. “Good baby,” Bucky’s hand releases your wrist to lift and cup your cheek, giggling when you’re faced with the whipped cream on his lip again. Not as easy to take him so seriously. Bucky gives an amused huff at the response. “Now c’mon, before this melts and you have to lick that up, too.”

Popping the rest of your strawberry into your mouth, you finished chewing and swallowing before cupping Bucky’s jaw to steady him. Holding him in place when you lean forward into his space; being able to smell the traces of sandalwood and cinnamon on his skin made you shiver. It didn’t matter how many times you were like this with Bucky, your belly filled with butterflies every time in the best way. Tentatively you drag your tongue across his bottom lip, whipped cream sweet on your tongue.

There’s no chance to pull away when Bucky catches your lips in an immediate kiss following. Mouth slotting to yours in the opportunity that the man has, grinning against your lips like the cat that got the cream. His large palm lifted to come and cradle your cheek, the tips of his fingers brushing into your hair where it cups under your eat. Palm cooler than the average person due to the way his body ran cold, but your own warmth helped balance out the temperature difference from time to time. Your cheek felt like fire beneath this hand.

Bucky kisses you hungrily, a searing claim when he licks hot into your mouth and makes you whimper and shiver. Your fingers still hold his bearded cheeks as Bucky takes his time tasting you; Enjoying it far more than any whipped cream he could ever buy. Bucky parts only after he’s left you breathless, wiping a thumb at his bottom lip with a low chuckle. Your head is left to spin with your heart hammering in your ears.

“Been achin’ to kiss you like that all day,” Bucky confesses. Your lips tingle, mourning the loss of Bucky pressed against your like that. “You’ve had countless chances, Bucky - we’ve been here alone all day.” You defend while lacking a legitimate malice to your tone.

“It’s different,” you almost wave him off at the defense and make yourself busy with the whipped cream when Bucky elaborates. “I wanted to be soft with you today; I think we both deserve a little tenderness every once in a while. But sexy games give me a reason to kiss you like that.”

“Sometimes I struggle to believe that you’re the same stoic sergeant everyone quakes in front of.”

“I’m not; Not with you.” The words are raw, and it would make your heart turn to mush if you weren’t turned on by his kindness.

“You’re sexy when you’re sweet,” you coo, fingers brushing up his jaw to draw Bucky in for another quick kiss.

“And you’re sexy all the time, sunshine.” Bucky hums right back before meeting you partway for a small exchange of pecks. You both linger there for a moment, the kisses stolen not nearly as heady or heavy. Then you’re taking your turn. Parting lips and Bucky nearly chases your touch for more when you tut your tongue. A mock of his earlier tutting. “Aww,” you echo back to him, half condescending and half frisky. “I see it on your face, people are gonna think m’not taking care of my Buckybear.” though with your delivery, the words are far less menacing and end with you breaking the character to laugh, especially when Bucky is already crumbling into chuckles in front of you.

“‘Buckybear’?” Bucky parrots incredulously and entertained. “Trying out new nicknames,” you say with an innocent shrug, plucking up the spoon to get more cream on the utensil. “I think it’s cute.” “I like it,” Bucky agrees, shifting to get comfortable on the couch while his predatory gaze follows your hand. “It’s a nickname you gave me, just… Maybe let’s not let Sam hear this one.” “Does he still call you ‘Buckaboo’ sometimes?” You ask, momentarily distracted and appreciative that you and Bucky are able to break up seductive moments with cute ones. You’re convinced it’s proof you’re both truly in love to be able to be this casual and open with one another.

“Unfortunately. Torres heard Sam over the commlinks last week, both of them were dying of laughter.” Bucky deadpans, clearly not finding the situation as humorous as the boys did. You snicker with a shake of your head, assessing the spoon in your hand for a moment before setting it down in the container and abandoning it as a whole.

Instead, you pull your shirt up and over your head – stripping away the layer. The response it earns from Bucky fuels your confidence, the way he straightens up on the couch and wolf-whistles at each inch of skin you show off for him. Bucky always has a way of making you feel perfect; All your insecurities blanch when you were able to feel his comforting presence, always leaving you feeling loved and unequaled in your skin.

“Givin’ me a show, doll?” Bucky muses, a small tilt of his head while he studies you. “Why, enjoying the view?” You coo in turn, meeting Bucky with that same playful banter - this was a game after all, and games are meant to be fun. You discard the top haphazardly to the floor, no doubt to be gathered tomorrow morning.

“Oh absolutely. Got the prettiest baby in all of New York… I’m a very lucky man.” When Bucky speaks, his voice is thick and warms your face. Bucky is very much the flatterer.

“I know you like it when I say things like that,” doesn’t even hesitate to single you out on the thought. “When I remind you of how precious you are to me, sugar… Just how much I fucking adore you.” Bucky’s voice drips with lust and devotion. Utterly in love. It almost tempts you to drop the game before it gets too far in and have him now; Peel away the remaining layers separating you two and open your legs in an invitation for Bucky to fuck you so roughly into the couch that the legs break and the neighbors know Bucky’s name loud and clear.

God, you’re fucking whipped for this man.

Sometimes you’re still not prepared for the outpour of loving words; Still, you’re trying to remember that Bucky means the things he says and isn’t merely humoring you as exes have in the past. Bucky is nothing if not genuine.

“Keep sweet talking me, Sarge, and this game might end sooner than you want it to,” You warn with a coy smile before picking up the formerly abandoned spoon. “I’m bein’ honest,” Bucky defends, lifting his hands in a feigned and mischievous. “You know you love when I talk sweet to you, anyways, sugar.”

“You also know it makes me freeze up; I never know what to say things like that, Bucky.” a gentle reminder and your cheeks hurt from smiling - do you look stupid? Bucky would love you anyways, truth be told.

“Oh, but that’s the best part,” Bucky replies, leaning forward on the couch and closer into your bubble of space. Taking his time letting his eyes drink in the pretty sight you make for him without your top. “It turns you into putty, baby. You start floatin’ so easy, ‘s cute - it’s worth it gettin’ you cock-drunk in the end.”

You stutter - jaw clenching and you feel the tips of your ears burn. Bucky takes more sadistic amusement in the responses he pulls out of you. Plays you like a fiddle. It embarrasses you as much as it makes your thighs tighten and a wetness forms in your underwear. He works you up for fun. It’s maddening and exhilarating and perfect.

“Buckyyy,” you whine, pitiful and with a harmless scowl. Bucky’s laugh is rich and makes your face soften almost immediately. “Well, on with it, sunshine.” Bucky nods towards the spoon clutched between your fingers.

You take the moment to regain your composure. A deep breath - Attempting to shake out Bucky’s influence and his attempts to deduce you to a ditz so soon. Then, with the cold metal of the spoon, you smear a generous streak of whipped cream from your left clavicle to the top of your left breast.

When you lift your attention from your careful work, you find Bucky’s hungry eyes on you. Looking like a wolf preparing to strike his prey; Oh, to be littered with bites from Bucky’s mouth sounds like a dream.

“You’re bold tonight. I can already tell this is gonna be fun,” Bucky husks, voice low before moving into your space.

Right hand coming flush against your hip before smoothing up to frame your chest. He wedges himself between your legs, bringing your back flush with the arm of the couch as he looms over you; The semi that the soldier has been packing pressing prominently against your ass through his jeans. His vibranium hand brushes your hair out of your face, eyes studying you.

“You’re always so small under me...” Bucky hums, metal fingers brushing down your cheek as you lick some of the remaining whipped cream off the spoon; Putting on a show with the slow and deliberate lave it was the tip of his cock.

Bucky groans, his touch hardening where he holds your chest before lowering himself to let his hot mouth lick over your collarbone. Trailing down, his tongue glides across creamy sugar while littering open-mouth kisses to your flushed skin. His beard scratches against tender flesh and you keen underneath him - Bucky subtly presses tighter against your ass so his cock can make itself well acquainted and he growls low in his chest. Hot breath fanning over your flesh.

The soldier’s hot mouth threatens to go further, tempted to explore every inch of your delicate skin and leave you covered in hickeys. Bucky practices self-restraint, but not before licking up the swipe of whipped cream and suckling a deep hickey into your skin. The purpling skin is beautiful under his skillful tongue and you moan into the air of the living room.

May the best man win.

You’d both gone back and forth. After Bucky licked the mess from your chest and tasted the sugar on his tongue from a shared kiss, he had fun spraying whipped cream on his fingers.

Watching you have to take each digit between plump lips to suckle and lick the cream off. Beyond the sweetness of the cream, you could taste the roughness of his skin while he played with your tongue. Bucky even took the liberty of pressing his fingers to the flat of your tongue and holding your mouth open until you were drooling when there was no more cream left. When his fingers slip too far, you gag around the intrusion and Bucky grins.

He spits in your mouth to compensate for your time. You moan, thankful.

When it’s your turn again, you take the chance to shimmy your pants off next. Bucky licked his lips - watching you get undressed and not having to do a bit of the work but also being tempted with the inability to touch. Eager hands wanting nothing more to grip supple flesh and lay his claim while he takes you. With him. All good things come to those who wait.

You smeared whipped cream on your inner right thigh - dangerously close to your center and trailing towards your v-line. Bucky took his time settling between your legs. Kissed stamped to the inside of your calves, calloused hands smoothing out the outer of your thighs. Trailing upward, Bucky’s breath ever hot and the whipped cream threatens to drip.

Bucky catches the drop with his tongue before it can find the couch, licking up the inside of your thigh. His tongue makes you tingle and your brain stops working for a moment; shuddering under his touch and your toes curl. Bucky presses a kiss over the wet patch in your tight briefs and you hide your face. Your core quivers with want.

Bucky refuses to let you hide for long, working his way back up and gently prying your hands from your face. You share a heated kiss and sigh shakily against Bucky’s figure; Melting between him and the couch.

When it’s Bucky’s turn again, he takes a page out of your book and uses the opportunity to shed away layers. The jeans hugging his deliciously thick thighs are discarded, Bucky hiking up the plain black tee that left little to the imagination of the definition of his abdomen. It’s no mystery that Bucky was packed with muscle; Even in thick coats, you could still somehow always make out his distinct shape with rippling arms, a thick chest, and somehow a narrower waist. You’ve joked about him being a Disney princess once or twice.

The scoundrel smears the chilled spoon over his chiseled abs and for half a moment you’re in one of those steamy romance novels your mom would read and you’d giggle at.

You lap up the trail from over the concrete muscle down to Bucky’s groin - and he sighs out shaky and delighted. Hooded and heated eyes always watching you, you, you. Nothing else exists in the world to him other than your game. You feel a swell of pride knowing you have such a catch as Bucky; his thick fingers tangled in your hair and carding through as you innocently lick up the cream with a sinful tongue.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous, sunshine.” the words are drawled out lazily and hushed from Bucky’s swollen lips; He’s been chewing them and biting like crazy.

The tent in his briefs doesn’t surprise you at all - you’d be insulted if he wasn’t aroused.

Still, you’ve taken every task he’s given you like a champ. Bucky is running out of safe skin to present, and you’re in for the long haul. Winning or losing makes no difference to you. By the end of the night, it’ll be Bucky’s hands that have touched you and brought you to your climax. No one else. You’ve already won.

But that doesn’t stop you from sitting back and shivering when the cold metal touches your bare nipples. Smearing a generous amount of cream to both bare and pebbling buds. Bucky is simply excited to get his mouth on you in a way that isn’t so safe anymore. His lips close around your nipple and leave you gasping - sucking and rolling the bud against his skilled and velvety tongue.

You’re wet; fingers holding Bucky’s head, merely along for the ride as he circles the areola with the tip of his tongue before pinching the delicate skin between his teeth and making you cry out. So sensitive. He kisses your ache better before subjecting the other nipple to the same torment; Bucky’s hot and wet mouth is heaven and your body speaks louder than your wanton moans or words ever will. You want him so unapologetically, and Bucky knows it. Prides himself on it, even.

It’s only a matter of time before you’re out of whipped cream and both of your teeth have rotted from your skull from the sugar; Something has to give otherwise the both of you could be at this all night - would that be so awful, though?

Bucky could wait you out easily. Run you out of choices until all that's left to cover with cream are the places he wants to get his tongue on the most. That's too easy; the back and forth between you two is what helps sparks fly.

Your fun is interrupted on Bucky's turn. He's trying to swipe whipped cream on his chest when he fumbles the spoon; the dollop slides right off the flimsy metal and falls to Bucky's bare shin, trailing down to his foot.

Both of your noses scrunch. Bucky's look of disgust is quickly replaced though by a mischievous glint, the soldier raising his leg up to balance his heel on the couch cushion.

"Better hop to it, honey." Bucky singsongs.

You playfully swat at his thick thigh, hand wanting to linger just to feel the muscle under your palm. How easy it would be to glide up and cup his cock.

"I'm not licking your foot, Bucky." You stifle the words only because you can't contain the giggles.

"Rules are rules - unless that means I win…?" Bucky perks up, and ah, no wonder why he got all delighted. He sees this as his golden ticket win.

No way he's serious. Your relationship and dynamic is very experimentational, but feet aren't on the table - sorry, Bucky. Licking one of his boots is a different story, but that's for another day where you have more time and the sweet words are replaced with filthy titles and the soldier joins you in the bedroom rather than your loving and chaste boyfriend.

“I’m not licking your foot.” You reiterate, “Pick somewhere else, for real?” “Ah ah ah, Sunshine. When we started playing we agreed.” Bucky protests and you are tempted to steal that spoon away from Bucky and swat another spoonful of whip cream at him. Instead, you pout; trying to wiggle your way. “Oh c’mon.” Bucky knows you won’t do it, the pain in the ass that he is (and you adore).

“Then I win,” Bucky declares matter-of-factly, and really, has defeat ever been such a pleasure? You shrug your shoulders to acknowledge your defeat, flashing the man across from you a bashful smile. At least you don't have whipped cream sticky on your foot - you're the real winner in that case.

“That means you, sunshine, gotta get that sweet mouth of yours on my cock.”

“Yes, Bucky,” you agree with an airy giggle. “I know what going down on someone means.”

When you go down on Bucky, he’s kind enough to give you a pillow to kneel on between his thighs. It helps recompense for the iron-grip in your hair as he guides your head up and down the steady length of his cock.

You’ve long started to adapt to the girth by now. The first time you’d attempted to go down on Bucky, the thickness of his cock had overwhelmed you. You could only take so much before nearly sputtering - and vomiting during sex isn’t sexy. It left you to have to make up for what your mouth couldn’t reach with skilled hands pumping the base of his dick and playing with his balls.

Now you can take Bucky without gagging, and it’s worth it to watch his eyes roll into the back of his head when you suck his cock. You’re his pretty cock-sleeve and Bucky has no problem letting you know it:

“Yeah, that’s it… Such a slutty fuckin’ mouth, droolin’ all over me, baby.” His fingers fist your hair at the root, every pull a delicious sting as he guides your head up and down his cock. The corners of your lips stretching around the intrusion, eyes watering and everytime you moan at the way he fucks your mouth, it sends a vibration through Bucky’s cock that just has him reeling for more. “Oh, oh God… I’ve got the prettiest fuckin’ cocksucker - a work of art."

The words are filthy yet flattering; your chest fluttering while your hands brace on Bucky’s thighs. You keep your jaw slack, making the slide as easy for him as possible as the tip of his cock abuses the back of your throat. There's a certain fulfilment that comes with being used so filthily; Solely existing for Bucky's pleasure in that moment as he shifts from guiding you to thrusting.

Your nose buries in the neatly trimmed pubic hair, flush with his pubic bone every time he cants his hips up into your willing mouth. This is how all blowjobs tend to go. With you taking the lead before Bucky can't handle it anymore and pummels your poor mouth.

It leaves a delicious ache.

Drool slips down your chin, doe-eyes fixed on Bucky despite the bleary picture he makes with tears dripping down your cheeks. Your sounds are muffled yet still whorish; your skin prickled with heat and the knot in your stomach slowly building. You grind your hips into the air looking for something to hump. You whine when you find nothing; more drool pooling past your red mouth as Bucky tilts his head back into the cushions with a low moan.

"That's it, take it, take all of my cock, baby. Like you were fuckin' made for it, mm, my precious little fuckhole. God, I love you, love my messy whore."

Your head is swimming, all you can focus on is the feel of the cock thrusting in and out of your slack mouth while Bucky uses your hole to his delight. Even when your head feels light from the lack of air, you float happily and trust Bucky. Bucky always takes care of you.

He tugs your head up by your hair, pulling you off his cock, and only then are you able to swallow lungfuls of air; gasping with spit-slick lips and a gossamer connects you to the tip of Bucky’s flushed cock.

“Cock-drunk. Like I said.” Bucky playfully chides and you whimper pitifully in response. Bucky laughs condescendingly at how pathetic you are and your chest blossoms. His hand cups your face tenderly, vibranium fingers wrapped around his dick while he smears his cockhead against your cheek. You turn your head instinctively towards the cock, mouthing wet kisses up the length and Bucky barks out a laugh at how hungry you are.

“Fuck, when did you get so desperate? You’d think I never touch you.” He traces your lips with the flushed tip; your tongue darts out to lap up the pre-come.

“As if I don’t have you bent over the nearest surface every other day; Pumping you full of my seed and leaving you fuckdumb.” Bucky slaps the length against your cheek wetly. You tongue down his shaft, as much as Bucky’s clutch in your hair will allow, and mouth at his balls hungrily. Bucky groans low and primal in his throat.

“Dirty, dirty…” His hand comes to hold your jaw, tongue sliding past your loose and parting lips. Playing with your tongue, Bucky shakes your head like a dog and you mewl. Fingers curling into the flaps of his jeans from where you’d pulled them open. “Shh, you’re alright, honey. M’just playin’ is all, yeah, you’re so cute like this. So airheaded n’ dumb.”

You suckle on Bucky’s thumb, your reply coming in a pleased purr to have your mouth full again. It’s not his dick, but you’re more than happy to bob your head. Bucky bites his lips and grins wickedly.

“I love how stupid you get for me, baby. It’s absolutely adorable, knowin’ you’d let me do anythin’ I wanted to you,” Bucky coos all too lovingly for it to be merely lust and heat.

He slips his thumb from your lips and you chase the digit with a whimper; Mourning the loss. Bucky just grips your hair again and pulls you back to his balls.

“C’mon, sunshine, suck on my balls.” The weight in your mouth nearly has you salivating, sucking on Bucky’s balls and right where you’re meant to be; Worshipping this man.

His cock is heavy against your face as Bucky jerks off to the gorgeous and whorish sight you make for him. The bruent groans, stroking his cock as Bucky watches you intently mouth as his heavy sac; Saliva dripping all over his skin and making a mess. His cock jerks infront of you, pulsing and veins bulging.

“That’s it, good pet… So fuckin’ good, yeah, you’re so perfect — Fuck, what am I gonna do with you..?” Bucky guides your mouth back to his cock. Up the length and taking the head between your lips before swallowing him down entirely. Back to the steady bob as you moan around the intrusion and Bucky groans roughly into the thick and heavy air.

“I wanna fuck your face, sunshine,” Bucky rasps out, and you stutter your ministrations for half a moment to peer up at him in the helpless daze that consumes you. “Yeah, you like that idea? Don’ gotta do nothin’, honey, just let me use that pretty fuckhole of yours.” The words purred out so sweetly, you profusely nod. Eager to be of use. Pulling off his cock, you utter the word: “O-Okay…” “Good fuckin’ pet…” Bucky’s fingers thread delicately through your hair until he’s tightening the grip. Sinking you down onto his length yet again and forcing you to take every inch he gives you. It doens’t stop there. Instead the soldier braces his feet on the carpet alongside where you’re sat between his open thighs. He pistons his hips up - hitting your gag reflex and causing you to sputter around his cock.

There is no mercy. Bucky fucks up into your face, setting a progressive pace to allow you to slowly adjust but not for long. It’s only a few moments later that he’s fucking up into you like his own personal hole. Piercing steely eyes burning through you as he watches you choke and sputter on his impressive girth. It’s a mess of spit and tears that stream down your cheeks from the brutality of the face-fucking.

Heavy balls slap against your jaw and Bucky moans. You tingle between your legs, wet from being able to be a tool for Bucky. An object of pleasure; Something about it has always turned you on in being able to please your partner. There’s no better pleasure than Bucky using you like the fuckhole you’re made to be, and he lets you know that.

“God, baby, you were made for this. Should just keep you for this one day; Make you my pretty little fuckdoll and the only thing you gotta worry about is fuckin’ yourself stupid on my cock. You make such a pretty sight, fuck, I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you…” The litany is breathless as Bucky continues to thrust his dick in and out of your welcoming mouth.

You choke and sputter; Face hot and eyes burning with tears that drip off your chin in fat droplets. Cries die in your throat, high off the euphoria of the moment and burning on the adrenaline of being used as a fleshlight. Your lips ache; His pelvis smacks into you every time he ruts his hips up. Bucky slides down your throat easily. He’s right. You’re made for it.

You don’t know how long it goes on for. Instead you ogle in heaven, seeing and feeling nothing but Bucky. Even through the wet and slick squelches of your mouth being used, you couldn’t be happier. You roll your hips to find nothing - you suppose that’s the punishment of losing the game. Only one of you get off.

He fucks your face until you’re dizzy and can’t breathe. When you fear you might sputter for air is when Bucky unravels; Your throat flexing around his cock and fingers feeling every now and again in your throat for the tell-tale bulge.

It’s when Bucky’s hips stutter and the dirty talk bleeds more into primal noises rather than words. Grunts through his teeth, low growls while he abuses your throat up until the moment Bucky’s hips jerk harshly. The movements stutter, and Bucky punches out a harsh gasp. Then you feel it.

The hot pump of his come down your throat; Filling you up.

You threaten to choke and Bucky hushes you, rubbing sympathetically over your windpipe. “Shh shh, that’s it, swallow every last drop, baby. Take it all…” He rolls his hips impossibly deeper into your sore jaw. You feel drunk and you weren’t even the one that got to ride out their orgasm. With a few last grunts and rolls of his hips, Bucky withdraws from your sensitive mouth. Half-soft cock falling and you greedily swallow for air.

Bucky pets you through it all - whispering out your praise. How good you did for him. How much he loves you.

You take a moment to recover, head pillowed on Bucky’s inner thigh as he pets your hair lovingly. You drool onto the denim of his jeans, and if Bucky minds, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he watches you with loving eyes and a soft hum; As if this wasn’t the same man who just deduced you to his filthy fuckhole. If you didn't know any better, sometimes you'd think the man who fucks you and the man who bought you a book you'd been dying trying to find for Valentine's day were two separate people.

Bucky does it because he knows you love it. You could tap out any time with the special little word you both selected months ago when your sex life began to spicen up past vanilla rocking. But you don’t. No, you take it all and then some because it feels good and sometimes you’re convinced it’s what you were made to do.

You take your time recouping. Bucky rubs through your hair lovingly and affectionately, soft hums to add noise to the space. You smile, delighted, as if you’re the one who’s won and come. Calloused fingers trace the shape of your smile and you nearly preen. Slotting open your droopy eyes, you find Bufcky still there. Still sweet.

“You did so good, honey. M’so proud of you.” He praises, knowing now that he has your attention. Your grin splits and give him a toothy smile. “My sweet sunshine,” Bucky’s voice is soft and inviting, a lopsided grin on his chiseled features. You feel like the only thing in the world for a moment.

Although you want to talk, words don’t come easily and instead, you drag Bucky down into a languid kiss. Bucky groans at the taste of himself on you, but other than that, he’s chaste and gentle. Knowing when to play rough and when not to. It’s heaven when his lips move against yours so tenderly. Your heart still flutters like a teenager in love.

The both of you remain that way for a few minutes. Slow kissing even if you imagine Bucky’s back burns from the lean and your neck is starting to ache from how you crane it. Still, there’s nowhere you’d rather be than with Bucky.

“How about we head on to our room, sunshine, and I’ll take care of the rest?” Bucky purrs against your throat when he trails kisses down. The brush of his beard tickles and the feeling of his warm breath on your skin makes you happy to be alive.

“Actually,” you say after a beat, swallowing hard and clearing your throat. You pull yourself together as much as you can before leaning back and away from Bucky.

He eyes you with a mild look of concern as you prop back against the coffee table, reaching for the untouched can that Bucky had brought in with his game proposal. You pop the red cap off and it scatters to the floor below, lost. Then, pulling yourself up to sit on the edge of the coffee table, you shake the can. You lift your hips, shimmying out of the underwear you’d been left in - both of you are half naked at this point and you’ve seen one another countless times, you have nothing to hide.

The pair pools around your ankles and you use your foot to toss them, discarded like everything else that’s met the floor this evening - save for you. Bare legs spread, an open invitation and show. Bucky’s eyes light up, and you adore how he seems to treat everytime like the first time again, too.

“I was thinking about a round two,” you purr with newfound confidence and second wind; Spraying a strip of whipped cream down from your navel and disappearing between your legs. “What do you say, Barnes?”

“Oh, you’re on.”

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sandcobangevent · 14 days ago

Text

Concussion at 221B

by @watsons-busted-kneecap and @anerdynerd

[Sherlock’s POV]

I had spent the morning “chilling” on the couch, as John and Mrs. Hudson would put it, with some marshmallow tea in hand and yesterday’s case to reflect on. It had admittedly been quite the challenge to get behind, but once we had discovered that Mr. Verner Vogel was lying, it all had come together nicely. I grinned at the thought of this adventure. It was so obvious looking back on it: The poison was hidden inside the pen, his brother had never even arrived at the scene and the poster was just a distraction. Of course we hadn’t gotten away without a few scratches here and there during the chase, but John had taken a look at us and declared that there was nothing to worry about. I would keep an eye on my scuffed up knee anyway. Not that I didn’t trust John‘s conclusions, but keeping an eye on the development of smaller wounds like this one might prove to be interesting. Or perhaps I would forget about it within two days, who knew.

I heard John‘s door open widely. That was odd, usually my roommate would only push it as far as he needed to to get through somewhat comfortably. I presumed that there must have been some sort of news that he hadn’t told us about yet, hence the change in behaviour. I took a sip of my tea, making sure to catch some of the marshmallows that had started to form a bit of a chunk inside the cup, before turning around to greet my morning grump of a roommate.

I was… confused when I saw him. Something about him threw me off, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Was it his posture? His expression? His even bigger lack of energy than usual? I tried to find a way into our conversation. Would ‘Up early, are you?‘ do the trick? Maybe too confrontational for the weirdly cold, almost hostile mood that was spreading throughout the room… What had I missed?

I landed on “Good morning, Doctor.” instead. Safe enough as it was neutral, but could hopefully be read as as friendly as I intended it to. John just threw an annoyed, accusing look back at me. Alright… That was weird. “Is something wro-“, before I could finish my sentence, John had already cut me off:

“Oh, what gave me away?”, he sounded irritated, “‘Is something wrong??’ Who was that this morning?! And why was I accosted by Jack Bower or bloody Jason Bourne in my own flat??”

“…What?”, I replied. Nobody had been in our flat all night. I was sure of it because I had had a rather light sleep and had been awake until 4am practicing the violin anyway. “There were no ‘Jack Bower’ or ‘Jason Bourne’ here tonight, Watson, I’m not sure who or what you’re referring to.”

[John’s POV]

“Yes of course there were, I was DRAGGED OUT OF THE ROOM!”, I couldn’t believe this guy. Was he gonna act like none of last night had ever happened? God, I was sorry, Stammo, but I didn’t think I’d be able to live with this man any longer. I’d just need to find a new apartment with manageable rent… in London….

Alright, okay, nevermind, I’d need to think about that later, right now I was a bit too distracted by my for-now-roommate looking genuinely puzzled. At least I thought it was genuine... Couldn’t really tell with this guy.

He hummed weirdly concernedly. “The last time I recall you getting dragged out of this exact room would be when Mrs. Hudson had to forcefully keep you from walking into your own surprise birthday party.” He had placed his hand on his chin now while mumbling about some stuff. This guy seemed to be going through a whole LIST of occasions where that had supposedly happened. What on Earth??

“Woah, okay, slow down there, mate! I’ve only been here for a day. Do people get dragged out of this room so often that you can’t even remember which time was me? Especially when it was just LAST NIGHT?!” Aaaand now his eyebrows furrowed even deeper. “Ah.”, he said, “You’re talking about the incident on our first night here, when Barack Obama had come to thank me personally and you walked into the room unexpectedly, aren’t you, Doctor?” Wha- Barack Obama?? This wasn’t making any sense. “What the hell do you mean, Barack Obama came here?!”

“Well-“, he sighed, clearly struggling to explain himself. “You know this already, Watson. I’m not sure why you’re so confused about something that happened a year ago-“, his eyes widened a bit and he shifted forwards, “Oh- Hey- Careful!” He grabbed my shoulders to stabilize me. I had started to lose my balance. I groaned, trying to get back on my feet and waving at his hands to let go of me. He looked.. a bit hurt? I dunno, I was too busy NOT falling over, but I could swear I saw some sort of realizing look on his face. I was still trying not to let the headache sweep me off my feet, when a voice I couldn’t quite pinpoint popped up at the flat door, which was suddenly creaking open and closed.

“Hey, guys! I’ve finished walking Archie, so you can have him back now.” A woman came in, taking her jacket off and letting a dog loose as if it was completely natural for her to be here. I just looked at her startledly as she went on: “I’ve got an idea for our karaoke night! If you want, we could-“

She was looking past me at my roommate now. I could see that he had gritted his teeth when I turned around to face him too. Wasn’t she the person from Hudson’s though? Why would she have a karaoke night with Sherlock and- WAIT A SECOND WHAT WAS ARCHIE DOING HERE?!

My own bulldog, that was supposed to be MILES away by the way, was sniffing my legs now. I couldn’t help but scratch his head dumbfoundedly, because what the hell was even going on anymore.

“About that.”, Sherlock replied to.. what was her name? Mmmmar.. Martha? No, wait, Mmmariana? I thought? Maybe? Yeah I was pretty sure. I just hoped I was right too. He continued: “We might have to change those plans.”

[Sherlock’s POV]

I inspected John carefully. So far we knew that he was having problems with his balance, confusing the time of events and that his behavior was off. Way off, actually. His eyes were staring blankly at the floor again right now and he seemed to not even bother processing Mrs. Hudson’s arrival. He was visibly speechless. Doctor John Watson had been speechless countless times before, but in a way where he would attempt to express that fact very clearly, by… speaking about how speechless he was. This time was different. He was actually struggling to respond to this situation.

Now the problem at hand was that there was nothing obvious to be struggling with about this scene. It was a fairly normal morning: I was in the flat, Mrs. Hudson had just come back from the park and Archie was enjoying the petting session that Watson was giving him seemingly absent-mindedly. Nothing too irritating or irrational had happened, there had been no triggers for his PTSD, none that I knew of anyway. But John had hit his head pretty harshly on the handrail of a staircase during the chase of our case yesterday. He had denied that it was still hurting when he was taking care of our scratches last evening, but he’d squinted his eyes and gone to bed soon after.

I realized when he had almost fallen over and I needed to inform Mrs. Hudson as soon as possible: “John is suffering a concussion.” “Wait, whaaa”, was to be heard from my side, his voice was fading out slurringly at the end, but he continued petting Archie, most likely for comfort. Yes, definitely a concussion. Mrs. Hudson shot me an aghast look first and then proceeded to take a step towards Watson, putting her hand on his back and watching him concernedly. That seemed to snap him back into the here and now, as he turned his head quickly to look at her bewilderedly. Before she could say anything, he finally started speaking again:

“Who- I’m sorry, what is going on? Why were you, Sherlock, planning to have a karaoke night with the person from the estate agency? And uhh- I- I just,, really. Don’t have a clue about what concussion you could be talking about, I mean I feel fi- ohhhh my god I do have a headache.”, my dear friend stated, as if he had just noticed it. “Yup, that’s… That might actually be a concussion, the symptoms are there.”, he admitted and went on to list all the signs I had already noticed: “I- I’ve got the headache, I’ve got problems balancing myself, I’m just- genuinely VERY confused right now, my speech is slurring a bit and if I’m gonna be honest, I am feeling a bit nauseous, oh god.” A pained expression made its way across his face.

Mrs. Hudson put her other hand on his arms which were hanging loosely now that Archie had gone into my direction to drink out of his bowl.

“Do you… not remember my name?”, she asked and only now could I see how widely her eyes were opened in worry. Ahh that was right, he had only called her ‘the person from the estate agency’ and did not appear to recall our connection.

“Uhh”, Watson looked at her hand holding his arm without understanding. “Well it’s Mariana, isn’t it?” Mrs. Hudson’s shoulders rested slightly in response, but that seemingly didn’t satisfy her, so she continued to ask: “And do you remember me?”

“Mmm well yeah you’re the estate agent as I said.” Her mouth was opening for a response, but I decided it was best to do this short and simple: “Watson, what date do you think it is?” His hand wandered to his face to brush frustratedly over it from the forehead to the chin. “Uhhh ffff somewhen.. October 2023?” I had thought as much, but it still stung to hear.

“And there we have it. Memory loss. Another sign of a concussion, as I’m sure you know, Doctor. Why did it have to be so extensive in your case…”, I sighed before Mrs. Hudson picked up the plan that we were most likely all thinking about, as she grabbed the keys to the apartment that were lying on the sideboard and determined:

“John, we have got to get you to a hospital.”

[Mariana’s POV]

It felt very strange to sit next to someone who didn’t remember me. It had already been awkward to stand outside, trying to catch a free taxi, but this was somehow worse. Whenever I looked at John, I could see all the memories we had made as a friend group: The movie nights, the walks in the park, the endless talks and of course the constant cases to manage and solve. But he did not see that anymore. The only mental picture he had left of me was from when I was still working at a job I barely even enjoyed and wasn’t sure what to do if I couldn’t stay in the UK. The houses outside were flying past the taxi windows whenever we weren’t standing at a red light, which honestly took up a lot of the time. I kept catching myself glancing over at John, as if he’d suddenly start looking back at us the same again. Instead, his eyes were jumping around the car whenever they weren’t frozen on the floor. He seemed guilty. I got so stuck on watching him repeatedly fiddle with his legs that I almost jumped when he lifted his head and started talking.

“So what date is it actually then?” He looked over at me. Oh gosh, had he noticed me staring? That caught me off-guard. “Sorry?” “Well apparently it’s not October 2023 anymore, so uhh”, he chuckled nervously. “How much time did I miss? Or, well, forget?” Oh boy, how would I tell him this… I tried to make eye contact with Sherlock for help, but he was only staring straight out of the front window, maybe occasionally keeping an eye on whether our driver was actually taking the fastest route possible. Great, I’d do this by myself then. “Well, it is October…”, I started, just leaving a slightly too long pause because I wasn’t sure how to do this sensibly, but unfortunately that led John to jump in: “Oh so not even a month then?”, oh no, he was looking so relieved, “Oh that’s great! You know, I already thought I’d have missed a lot, but-“ “2024”, I squinted while saying that. I really didn’t mean to get his hopes up like that oh my gosh that felt terrible. John’s shoulders that had relaxed just a moment ago were tensing up again and the lighthearted mood that had overcome him froze in the air and turned into something else.

“October 2024?”, he breathed out. I couldn’t do this. “But that’s a whole year! I can’t just… have forgotten a whole year because of a concussion! I mean, obviously, I.. did… but that’s just so much. I-“ He put his hands up to his face, as if he was trying to wipe something away from it. “I just can’t believe it. I forgot. I forgot. A whole year.” I didn’t know what else to do so I just put my arm around his shoulders and tried my best to comfort him. “It’s gonna be okay, John, we’re here for you and while this might be a really weird situation for you - for all of us - right now, I mean you don’t even really know Sherlock and me anymore, which is just crazy”, I laughed bitterly, “I mean, I guess what I am trying to say here is: We’re your friends and we’ll be sticking by your side, no matter what. So don’t even go a second thinking you’re alone in this, okay?” John seemed to appreciate it, judging by the painfully apologetic grin he was giving me now.

“Thank you.”, he said, turning his face away from me.

[John‘s POV]

I didn’t stay quiet for too long, I honestly just didn’t want to. I wanted to believe her that I wasn‘t alone here, so I tried my best to keep the conversation going. “So what’s our deal then? The three of us, I mean.” I had been wondering about that anyway. “What makes a war vet with a podcast - or well, a mic so far, but I’m getting there -, a guy who apparently gets visited by Obama at 3am and their estate agent come together and form a friend group?” I was asking this fairly openly into the car, I didn’t mind getting an answer from either of my sides as I had been squeezed into the middle. Even the damn cabbie could’ve answered me for all I cared. Not that I didn’t care, quite the opposite actually, but I was just getting really desperate to finally learn more about my connection to these two. I had woken up, not knowing why everything around me felt so weird and now these two people that I only recognized as basically strangers were openly concerned about me and getting me to a hospital because of a concussion. Curiosity was mixing itself into my nervosity and made my legs shake even more.

“Your podcast.”, Sherlock had finally spoken up to answer oh thank god. “That’s what made us come together and form a team.” “What, my podcast?”, I wasn’t expecting that to be honest. I had been planning to use it for war vets, so I wasn’t sure what exactly could make these guys befriend me in connection to that. Then again, I had been pretty flexible about what this podcast could’ve been about, so maybe they had found a bit of a different topic to talk about. “Yes, our true crime podcast. You and I are usually the ones to go and solve the cases together. Mrs. Hudson does the managing for that matter.” “What- TRUE CRIME?!”, I almost choked on my own spit. “You don’t like it?”, that was the first time Sherlock glanced at me again instead of staring at the cabbie’s screen. “I mean it’s just unexpected, that’s all. I don’t really have any experience with uhhh criminology? So that just sounds a bit random.”, I laughed in disbelief and muttered: “Sounds exciting though…”

“We’re here!”, the cab stopped at the side of the road and Mariana tapped around on the buttons of the credit card device to pay. Sherlock and I climbed out of the door in the meantime. St. Bart’s Hospital was standing tall in front of us. Sherlock pushed my back towards the ER entrance. “Woah- Hey! Shouldn’t we go to the urgent care instead? I feel fine, I don’t think I need to take up the services of the ER, they’ve got more important injuries to care for.” I got a look back from him that I couldn’t quite read. My headache had been flaring up, but I would be fine! Just needed a bit of ice, that was all. “Doctor, listen to me!”, he turned around, grabbed me by the shoulders for the second time that day and stared into my eyes determinedly. “You just nearly fell out of the car, you’re experiencing a heavier headache than earlier judging by your expression, you cannot remember the last year that we had spent together and I will not risk us missing a deeper level to this injury again. You misjudged the severity of your concussion yesterday already and I would much rather be safe than sorry in terms of your health.”

“Kind of ironic coming from you.”, Mariana had joined us on the sidewalk, but she only got a disapproving glance back from Sherlock. “But that doesn’t mean that Sherlock is wrong at all.”, she said, now also turning her full attention to me, “John, you should have been to the ER yesterday already. You’ve got a medical license. You should be the one reminding us how important it is to make sure it’s not worse than you suspect.” I was gonna say something, but Sherlock had already gotten behind me and started pushing me towards the ER. “Chop chop, off you go. To the emergency room!” “Sherlock, I can walk alone.” I went a little faster to free my back. “Sure you can.” He let me walk alone by myself now, but I could tell he was still walking close behind me to make sure I’d actually follow their advice. It felt weird to be forcefully cared for, but I didn’t really mind. It was nice to know that I apparently had friends who would ensure my safety as much as I would for them. …But I still didn’t like going to the ER.

The white lights of the hallway shined on us painfully brightly, so I was a bit too distracted to notice the old lady nurse that was already running at us. My attention only swung over to her when I could hear a booming “You three again! What is it this time, another bloody case?!” That made me stumble back a bit. “I- uhh.” We hadn’t even gotten to the reception! “Watson here is experiencing a concussion.” Luckily Sherlock had taken on the job of speaking for me while I was still a bit perplexed. How often did we come here for the staff to react like that?? “So if you could tune down the volume a little, I’m sure his heightened sensitivity to noise would appreciate it.”, he continued quite snarkily. Was that just how he’d act around every stranger or had we gotten to know this specific nurse over the past year? Based on what I knew about Sherlock and our apparently regular visits to the ER I figured it’d be a mix of both.

The nurse didn’t seem impressed, but went on to do her job anyway. “Alright, Dr. Watson, what are your symptoms?” She lead us straight to the nearest exam room while I was listing what we had gathered and trying not to trip. She determined that it should be temporary, as most concussions were, but that they needed to run an MRI scan in order to properly assess my situation. At that point, it all felt like a blur. Neither the sounds of the MRI nor the bloody hurtful light situation of this hospital were doing my pulsing head any favors. When I had come back from the scan, our nurse Gertrude told me to wait until the doctor would come for the evaluation of my results.

“Mrs. Hudson went to get you some ice.”, Sherlock, who was sitting on one of the plastic chairs beside me, told me. “Ah okay.”, was all I could bring up. I was dizzy and the whiteness of this hospital room wasn’t making it any better. I still couldn’t quite believe that this was really happening, it was just so absurd. It felt like I had time traveled, but not in a cool way like in Doctor Who or Back To The Future and more like as if the whole world had gone on without me and now I was back and couldn’t really immediately connect with what I saw. Huh. That was kind of like that other part of Back To The Future, just… better, I supposed. Because what I was seeing here wasn’t some messed up version of reality where the wrong person had gotten the betting numbers, this was… actually kind of nice. If only I hadn’t gone and hit my head for some stupid reason, I wouldn’t be having trouble keeping my eyes open right now.

I didn’t wanna let those thoughts linger for much longer, so I decided to pass the time through conversation with my new friend. “You’re still calling her that then?” I was met with a questioning look by Sherlock.

“Mariana.”, I clarified, “You’re still calling her Mrs. Hudson.”

Understanding made its way across his face. “Ah. Yes.”, but then he quickly changed his mind, “I mean- I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Is that a joking tone I’m hearing? Are you a jokester, Mr. Sherlock Holmes?”, I surprisedly poked fun at him. He shot me a knowing glance and I swore I could see his lips curve up a little. “I have been told that I can be rather amusing at times.” Was that a half-joking tone?? “But I’m still not sure what you’re referring to, Dr. Watson.” Oh yeah, I was starting to see why I liked hanging out with this guy, this was fun! “Welp, I’m guessing that’s just your thing then, huh? Alright, I’ll leave it be.”, I lifted up my hands in playful defeat and laughed to myself, before Mariana came back with some packaged ice.

She sat down on the plastic chair to my right after handing the bundle of sweet release to me. “Here you go. Fresh ice for your head.” “Thank you very much, Mariana, ohhh that is so good.” The touch of the cool package against my throbbing head wasn’t exactly relieving, but it was so much better than going on without it. We only had to wait a couple of minutes, which Sherlock and Mariana could easily fill with some friendly banter, until a doctor came in.

“So, John Watson.” He entered the room, looking through a clipboard full of info that he’d be sharing with me any minute now. Oh god, I was getting more nervous than I thought. My leg was getting very hard to hold still again. “I’ve got your results right here. There’s no need to worry, the memory loss and confusion will usually clear off after a while. In your state, it might only take a few days until you’re fine!” He went on to tell us about statistics on the average recovery and all the usual procedures to reassure your patient that everything was gonna be okay. I knew the drill. I had been taught to do the same. It just kind of sucked to know which phrases were empty. And hell there were a lot of them. I thought it was more likely that I’d need a few weeks to be the same again. But I also knew that the goal of this was to calm the patient down for no extra complications, so I tried my British best to keep calm and carry on. My concussed mind couldn’t focus on anything he was saying for long anyway. His stupid, patronizing way of talking made me want to get up and leave more than anything.

By the time we finally got to the bit that would actually be helpful to listen to - the instructions - I had given up on holding my leg still. “Now, I’m going to prescribe you some paracetamol. Make sure to take an appropriate dosage to keep your headache down. And it’s very important that you listen to this next part: You need rest. Please avoid activities that require a lot of thinking and concentrating! That includes things like your phone, reading, watching TV and also:” He looked over at Sherlock now. “Your cases. No going around and solving murders for your little podcast. And if you must, then go by yourself, but please keep Dr. Watson out of this until his symptoms have cleared. Not until he says he feels fine. But until he actually is back at a healthy state again. I know what doctors are like when it comes to their own treatments. Understood?” Sherlock looked like he wanted to protest but forced himself to nod with a clenched jaw instead. The doctor looked at me and Mariana for confirmation too and we both agreed verbally. Then, he finally left. And all the stress that had been building up until now was still there.

Great, so now I wouldn’t be able to do anything fun for a while. Of course I had known this was coming, but god it just wasn’t fair. The day was barely half over and I wanted nothing more than to go home and feel normal. To stop being so caught up in how sensible I was to everything right now. To never have to see that absolute arse of a doctor again, who I was pretty sure was probably just trying to do his job, but his tone was just so goddamn annoying, there had to be some sort of core arrogance in this guy, honestly. But first and foremost: I wanted to bloody remember. To not feel like a stranger within what was apparently my own world. Damnit I was so close to throwing up out of frustration, I didn’t know what to do.

[Sherlock’s POV]

Solving cases alone certainly wasn’t gonna be as stimulating as it was with Watson by my side, but I was sure I’d be able to manage until he’d be feeling better, somehow. I had something else to worry about right now. We were all sitting still, almost frozen, after the doctor had left. I was focused on John, his face specifically. If it hadn’t already been obvious by his trembling leg, I would have still seen the distress in his features rather clearly. His irises were fixed on a random point at the desk, his teeth were clenched and his left eyebrow was twitching ever so slightly - those were typical signs for him being stressed. That, mixed with his uneasy posture and the severely uncomfortable surroundings of an emergency examination room couldn’t have made it any more obvious: John needed consolation.

And there couldn’t have been a worse man to ask for that task than me. Quieting a cacophonous mind wasn’t exactly my specialty... At least I thought so at first, but as I kept turning this issue over in my head, I realized that I had been taught everything I needed to know by the very people that were sitting beside me. I may not have been great at finding comforting words for others as they often came out wrong, but I knew the act of physical reassurance that would hopefully deliver the message I was trying to convey and not require any words from me.

I stood up, took position in front of my dear friends and widened my arms. That seemed to be enough to let John’s eyes detach from the desk and look at me questioningly. Mrs. Hudson also didn’t catch the cue right away, so I decided to help out with a verbal clarification: “I am inviting you to a hug. Both of you, to be clear.” John’s mouth opened and closed. Was that a good sign or a bad sign? “I may not exactly be a champion of comfort, but I thought-“ I did not get to finish that sentence, as John had already sprung up from his seat and was pressing himself against me - quite frankly more tightly than I had thought he would - and it didn’t take a second longer until Mrs. Hudson had gotten up from her chair and joined in on the hug as well. I had to admit that this was a quite stress-relieving embrace for the most part. And John’s more relaxed posture around my shoulders reassured me that it was helping him too.

After a while, Mrs. Hudson picked up the verbal part of consolation: “John?”, she said. A muffled “Hmmpf?” was to be heard from my shoulder. It was strange how much comfort our hug seemed to bring to him despite his pitted memory. “I just want to make sure you don’t forget that we’re here with you, okay? I know I’ve said this in the car already, but I also know how easily truths like that can leave our mind if we’re not constantly reminded of it.” She was stifling some sobs. John pulled up his head to look at her with a tremulous smile. “Hey it’s okay. I uhm… I know we’re gonna figure this out together. Thank you.” I could hear his voice getting weaker, he might have had to cry soon too, as the last part of his sentence was almost a whisper. I got the impression that he had needed to say this fact out loud in order to really believe it himself. And in that moment, I felt a flicker of hope. John was finding comfort in our words, in our embrace! The memories may have been missing, but the emotional connection was there somewhere in his subconscious. He was feeling safe enough to cry around us, for god‘s sake, that held colossal meaning, considering how much we must have had dug up already within these short hours for him to be feeling that connection again. The sensation of him and Mrs. Hudson melting in my arms was reaching my heart with its warmth and gave me the sense that possibly, we were going to be okay, as John may have already gotten a monumental portion of himself back. He was here. He was safe. And soon enough, he‘d be happy again.

____________

Check it out on AO3 too!

#sherlock & co #sherlock and co #john watson #sherlock holmes #mariana ametxazurra #event #fanart #flash bang #fanfiction #flashbang event

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wtftarot · 1 year ago

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PAC: The Moon

The Moon is my all-time favorite card. Representing all that is unknown, she calls us to embrace what we don't know. Accept that some things will never be explained in a way our conscious minds can grasp. The unconscious, the truths and illusions it holds. The often hazy way our intuition and instincts work. She is a mirror, reflecting back at us our longings and fears. What does The Moon have to tell you? Let's fuck around and find out!

as always this reading is for entertainment purposes only and is not a substitute for professional advice in any capacity. Remember, use common sense, and don't be a dumbass.

Pick either the Dog, the Crab/Lobster? or the Wolf and head on to your reading.

The Dog

Your cards: 8 Cups Rx, Temperance Rx, 5 Wands Rx, 9 Wands, Page of Pentacles Rx, The Star, The Emperor Rx, Queen of Swords, The Moon, and the back of the deck is The Devil Rx.

The number 8 might be important to y'all. Are y'all like REALLY self-controlled? Self-contained, I'm hearing? What I think that means is y'all do your best to keep yourself, the true YOU, restrained for whatever reason. I'm getting that some of y'all may be neurodivergent. Hold on, Rainbow in the Dark by Dio started playing, so not to be too on the nose but some of y'all are LGBT+. Whether one or both of those are you or not, this whole group has a MAJOR issue expressing themselves authentically. With Temperance in reverse it's like you intentionally make yourself 'unbalanced' in a way, to avoid conflict big or small. And there's this vibe of "when x situation is over, I'll be the real me." In some situations, that could be true. Leaving controlling parents when you go to college for example. But, if you came to this group, I don't think that's your situation. At least not entirely. Holy fuck, a dove just flew by my window and scared the shit out of me. So, doves may be a sign for y'all. Anyway. It looks like, if you came to this group. You have restrained yourself to the point of atrophy. You've been held back. Held yourself back from being You, that you're not even sure who that is. You think that once this situation exits your life, you'll just suddenly be that person. That person you want to be and feel you are deep down. The person you've always imagined yourself to be. Thing is sweetheart, who you are isn't just a jacket you can put on when you feel the time is right. You're not just a switch you can flick and become yourself. You have to grow who you are/ want to be. You have to build yourself up. Even Dr. Frakenstein had to build the creature before he could hit the switch and scream 'It's ALIVE!" (Not that I'm saying you're a creature or anything. unless you want to be, you do you.) Actually, that may be a better analogy than I thought. You have to dig up the parts of you that you buried, hopefully not in a graveyard. Put them together, see what still fits, see what doesn't. You may need to find some new parts where the old ones don't fit anymore. You build yourself by trying out the things you think you'll be into, and experimenting like a mad scientist. Try new things out, keep what works, scrap what doesn't. I'm not seeing anything about it being dangerous for you to try to be fully you. More so there's a fear of what others will think. ( I don't know every situation though, keep yourself safe) Y'all may have always just been what was expected of you, never really thinking if it was something you genuinely wanted. I think the reason why Frankenstein came up so strongly is that y'all feel like this horrible, awkward, ugly thing when you do something new to you. Y'all may not start something if you think you'll be bad at it. Y'all could be incredibly critical of yourselves. Not gonna lie to ya babe. You will be bad at some things. You will try things you thought you would love and end up hating them. You'll love things you'd thought you would hate. You will be wrong and sometimes that's a good thing. Winning is no fun if you don't lose too. The losing is what makes the winning worth it. And honey, you have an amazing opportunity here: You get to discover who YOU really are. You're going to get to learn so much shit about yourself and it's going to be beautiful. The Moon is telling you all of this, all of that hidden beauty you're unaware of is going to come to light. So, let yourself go a lil wild. And I don't mean the stereotypical wild that you see everywhere. I mean wild FOR YOU. It's okay if wild experimentation for you is joining a book club. Hell, if the stereotypical wild is your normal, maybe spending some time with yourself is experimental. Listen to music you never thought you'd be into. Wear something that's a little 'too much'. It's all okay. You can stop cutting yourself down to whatever size you feel you 'should' be. I believe in y'all.

The Crab/Lobster

Your cards are: 4 Wands, 4 Swords, Judgement, 2 Pentacles Rx, 5 Pentacles, and on the bottom of the deck the 2 of Swords.

Sweetheart, this one may be a little intense, okay? First off y'all need a nap or at least a break. You're overworked and the thing is y'all are comfortable being overworked. And now you're like 'Ash, this ain't comfortable at all wtf'. Let me explain. Humans are extremely adaptable, we can get used to pretty much anything. Downside of that is when you get too used to something, it becomes familiar, safe, and yes even comfortable. We've all seen it, we've all done it. There's no shame in being human. However, just because you shouldn't feel ashamed of it doesn't mean you shouldn't try and fix it. Cause all of y'all are in a situation like this. Maybe it's not work-related, could be school or a relationship. Could just be a cycle or pattern that you keep repeating and can't figure out why. Now I want to be clear here. I am not saying whatever this is, is your fault. Some situations we're responsible for, and some we get pushed into. Some cycles are generations in the making, and some are our own shitty habits. That's life. This reading is to shift your attention to these patterns so we can break them and do better. I feel like y'all may have an inkling about what this pattern is. I think it's been coming into your awareness over the past few weeks or months. All of y'all are different and will have different cycles to break. So, I can't get any specifics. You're in a sort of awakening moment it seems. (Funny cause the first thing I said was that y'all need a nap) This cycle is going to become painful in a way. You're outgrowing it. It's going to become clear how harmful this has been for you. There's going to be a bit of grieving happening as you realize this. The kind of grief that comes with the knowledge of all the ways you've held yourself down, hurt yourself, and held yourself back. The grief of knowing you deserved better. You'll need to let yourself grieve but not get lost in it. Because while that's important, it's the next bit that's going to get you the farthest. You get to break the pattern. Unlearn the cycles. You get to move into a new part of your life that's not familiar but that's fun. Enjoyable and not just comfortable but decadent. It'll be hard at first to break the pattern. (that's why you need to rest now, not later) Our brains are wired for repetition but soon breaking the pattern will be the pattern. I'm so, so proud of y'all, group two. It's going to be beautiful where y'all go from here.

The Wolf

your cards are: 6 Cups Rx, 8 Swords, 5 Swords, The Moon Rx, The High Priestess, 7 Wands and the back of the deck is The Queen of Wands

How are my fighters doing? Cause y'all pulling the cards for this one was ROUGH. Usually, that means the reading is something you don't wanna hear or you already know and are fighting off. What's interesting is the whole time I was shuffling I knew the High Priestess was going to come out for y'all and she kept peeking out and hiding again. Cards kept flying out all over the place, I'm talking a shit ton would fall out at once I'd put them back and it would happen again. But The High Priestess didn't come out at all until I was finally able to pull an actual reading. What it felt like was that y'all have all these ideas of how this reading will go, ideas of what you need to hear, what you expect to get. You're actually drowning out your actual intuition. You may also have daydreams or fantasies about how your intuition will work, and what you'll see. I think you may be so deep in these daydreams at times that you're disconnected from your surroundings and even when you are getting something psychically, it can't get through to you. For some of you, it's not daydreaming as much as overthinking. Either way, y'all are a bit in your own head and it's distracting you from your intuitive gifts. Which of course is going to make you doubt them even more. Babe, I'm sorry if this is a little harsh. You just seem to be beating yourself up a bit for not being as good as you think you should be. I'm hearing these sort of self-criticisms about how you should be a 'better' intuitive? That you're not a 'real' intuitive, not a 'real' tarot reader, not a 'real' psychic, not a 'real' whatever because oh you should be able to do this or that and you can't so it's not real. Or you don't have intuitive hits daily so you're faking it all. Or you're not clairvoyant/clairaudient/clairsentient soo you'll never be a real psychic. Ya wanna know what that is? That's just a bunch of bullshit, right there. Let me tell y'all a lil something. First off EVERYONE is psychic/intuitive to some degree. Even if they only can remember having one intuitive hit and that's it. Now, not everyone has the same gifts, or psychic skills if you will. Not every psychic/intuitive will talk to the dead. Not all of us will be clairvoyant. Some psychics are clairvoyant but can't read tarot to save their life. Some people have multiple gifts, others have one. Some gifts are random but are not any less for it. For example, my sister knows when something we've been looking for is at a thrift store, she knows which one and where in the store it is and will walk right to it. It's awesome. Being 'more psychic' ain't all it's made out to be anyway. Believe me, it can be wonderful but it's also rough. I know a few really 'strong' psychics who have intentionally cut themselves off from their gifts because of things they've experienced. I myself have come close. All of that to say, you are a 'real' intuitive. Promise. You don't have to push yourself into something you're not sure about to be more 'legit'. You don't have to have all the skills, all the gifts, to be proud of what you can do. What you do have to do is stop fantasizing about it and actually BE it. Stop worrying about all you can't do and really hone what you CAN. We all have different gifts because the world needs all different things. Your gifts are yours for a reason, because you, specifically can add something to the world with it. Now, there's another message here maybe just for one person: It's your choice to embrace these gifts or not. If you do not feel comfortable with them you can let them go, it's okay. You're not ungrateful or doomed if you don't utilize them. Like I said, these sorts of gifts can be rough, and downright horrifying. It's okay to want something easier. And yes, you will be able to lead a fulfilling life without them.

#tarot reading #tarot #divination #tarot community #tarot cards #the moon #wtftarot #tarot readings #pac #pac reading #tarotblr #pick a card reading #pick a picture #pick a photo #pick a pile

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gravesightings · 2 months ago

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May I request all the slashers with an s/o who practices witchcraft. Can you do something extra with Jason. He's my favorite

sure thing! practicing witchcraft is a bit too broad of a term so i did a lot of just "general" stuff. hopefully i still did it justice!

Slashers with a s/o who practices witchcraft - brahms, jason, vincent

Brahms Heelshire

intrigued and intimidated. although brahmsy is a well-read fellow, he doesn't really get any new material. whatever the hell he's been reading has been in his family for several generations at least.

in his brain it is definitely witchcraft = bad but he's not out for your blood just yet. he's been given such a rare opportunity, you see. to what, you may ask? to get up close and personal with a witch.

don't be surprised if he tries to mess with your altars just to get under your skin - no he doesn't know what they're for and no he doesn't want you to explain it to him. scuttles off into the walls to try and figure it out himself. he would steal a book or two if you happen to bring one yourself.

would never admit it but he's a little scared of what you might be capable of. he has outdated beliefs and is extremely misinformed so he would most likely try to interrupt anything you plan on doing.

what do you mean you weren't actually trying to hex him? a protection spell? for him? he's a little embarrassed... well, you should've asked for his consent first anyways!

Jason Voorhees

you what? immediately anxious. he hesitates to be supportive of you at first. he's had his fair share of wiccan trespassers before and like brahms, he's intimidated by it. needless to say, he didn't really wait to find out what they were planning to do before he got rid of them.

not you though! the last thing he wants to do is offend you. you can do all sorts of witchy things to your heart's desire! just maybe not the dangerous ones? for him?

he's interested in the collecting aspect of it at least - oh you need small animal bones? feathers? cool rock from the river? he's more than happy to provide! whatever you need, he's your guy.

unlike brahms however, he's a bit more open to being included just as long as you explain it to him. jason doesn't quite understand but over time he will grow more accustomed to it.

while he's not really willing to practice it himself, he's fine if you decide to use certain spells or place altars within the camp grounds. just make sure to ask him first!

absolutely loves the trinkets! while he's not a fan of making altars or writing symbols, he loves the idea of having some sort of protective charm. even moreso if it's something handmade. what about you? could he make something like that for you too?

Vincent Sinclair

oh, cool. very neutral and very accepting. don't be fooled by his lack of a reaction - he's quite familiar with witchcraft himself. he doesn't really practice but he's respectful of your beliefs.

his twin however, might be on the opposite side of the spectrum. don't worry, though! even if bo is against it, you can do whatever you like down in the basement with him. please include him.

probably the most normal out of the bunch. oh, you practice witchcraft? ok. you need anything specific? there's an abundance of candles, that's for sure. it might be difficult for you to find literally anything else in Ambrose otherwise.

he's not too interested in spells or rituals but he's quite good with his hands so if you ever want your altars to have a little extra oomph, just let him know.

vinny here would love to hear more about it but he's more inclined to do it because he wants to spend more time with you and not because he's interested in witchcraft. really, he just wants to be included. he would never admit this though.

#requests #slashers #general headcanons #graves.txt #brahms heelshire #jason voorhees #vincent sinclair #came up a bit short with this one i'm ngl. i feel like there's a million and one ways to practice witchcraft #please feel free to be more specific! i would love to write more about it :)

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crabs-with-sticks · 9 months ago

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The possibility of aromantic living situations

Busy this Valentines Day as an aroace person thinking about the relationship between capitalism, family structures, and property (very normal thing to think about I know). In a book I read recently, The Mushroom at the End of the World; On the Possibility of Life in Capitalist Ruins by Anna Lowenhaupt Tsing, she talks about one of the goals of capitalism is scalability. Scalability is about making sure that a unit can work on every different sized model. Endless growth is an important part of capitalism, and if all your 'units' are the same size, you can easily create the same thing, just bigger, only requiring more of the same parts, rather than creating new parts. E.g. if you have a square block, you can create the exact same shape just bigger (read: making more money) if you have four more of the same square blocks.

The nuclear family is one of those squares that forms the basis of so much of society from housing to child raising to everyday finances. It is no secret that the nuclear family (mum, dad, and kids) is seen as the ideal and moral family structure in most of the west. And colonialism has had a big part in exporting this to other places around the world. But for many people, especially aro folks, this structure just doesn't fit what we want out of life.

And I've just been thinking about how that idea of the nuclear family is related to property and wealth and how it disadvantages queer folks. In the country which I live in, there is a massive housing crisis and owning a house is a pipe dream for many because of the cost. Property is culturally seen as probably the main way in which you build wealth/capital because you don't get taxed on it (there is no property/capital gains tax) and there are SO MANY tax benefits for landlords its insane. So when housing is linked so majorly to wealth and capitalism it makes sense that you would want it to be scalable.

And what is the most scalable living/family structure? The nuclear family. So, since housing is market driven, theres no incentive to create other types of houses/living situations except those designed for the nuclear family. Because property/housing is so ingrained in capitalism, that its an investment, and you want to be going for a big portion of the market.

This just creates an endless cycle of property enforcing traditional nuclear family structures, and nuclear family structures enforcing property. Because there is no incentive to provide anything different and there is limited ability to be anything else. And even if a person, or developer or whatever wants to create something non-typical (e.g. cohousing and coliving, at least in my country) because its not scalable or market friendly, good luck finding a bank to give you a loan, or a developer to work on it, or hell even the government to have proper land classifications to make such a project possible.

It just frustrates me so much as a non-partnering aromantic person because I feel like I have no options and I have to fit my circular shape into a square just so that people can build a bigger model of the exact same thing. And I think its something that we don't talk enough about in the queer community, and that we make ourselves into these square blocks because there is no other way to be, and in doing so just enforcing the very structures that oppress us.

So anyway, rant over. Hopefully my brain dump made sense and resonates with some of y'all. And go read The Mushroom at the End of the World, its really eye opening.

#just feeling really fustrated #looking up all the different cohousing projects in my country that are all just failing #and my flatmates planning to move overseas #while all my other friends are also either planning on moving or settled #just ugh #aromantic #asexual #aroace #queer #jay rants about stuff

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americasass81 · 8 months ago

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Vibranium Knight

Warnings:- Mild Kidnapping, Use of Pet Names, Cockwarming, P in V Smut. 18+ only. Do not read if any of these warnings are upsetting. Feedback is welcomed.

By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

Author’s Note 1:- @targaryenvampireslayer just a little something I wrote for you Suz to hopefully make your working day a little brighter. Sorry it took so long but I hope it’s worth the wait being that this is my first time writing for this character I know you adore..

Author’s Note 2:- As always, all images have been found through google search.

Synopsis:- Enjoying a beautiful Spring day was not supposed to introduce you to a whole new world of possibilities but that’s exactly what happens when your distracted state intersects with an Avenger on a totally personal mission.

Pairings:- dark-ish!Sam Wilson x Female Reader.

Word Total:- 4,836

The office was quiet as you sat down at your desk and turned on the monitor, but the silence didn't really help. The truth was nothing did. ‘Why did it have to be this way?’ you thought as you now stood back up and headed for the nearest coffee machine while your computer flickered to life and the pinging of the elevator told you that soon your colleagues would be filing out of it to join you in another monotonous day of being totally undervalued while you scrimped and saved to hopefully retire before the humdrum working existence stole all semblance of joy from your life.

Sitting back down now and stealing a quick, generous amount of the caffeine infused beverage designed to see you through the day, you nodded kindly at your colleagues and exchanged pleasantries about your weekend activities before throwing yourself headlong into your work and counting down the seconds until lunch brought a much needed and welcome relief. Or at least that's what it usually did.

Powering down your computer at the 1 o'clock mark and picking up your jacket while rising from your chair, a brisk walk to the elevator past the fire alarm that you'd dreamed so often of pulling just to add some excitement to the boring office routine, a smooth, uninterrupted trip down to the ground floor and your were free. At least temporarily anyway.

Stepping outside the door then and taking in a few delightful breaths of the sweet spring air, you contemplated getting in your car, letting the top down and just spending your hour's break cruising around the city. After all, it wasn't very often you got weather like this that let you feel the wind in your face or the sun shining down on you in a manner that wouldn't leave you burning up from the inside out afterwards. No, this was exactly the type of weather you relished.

Not too hot, not too cold, you took one last delightful lungful and agreed instead that this was far too glorious a day to waste even a second of it sitting around in smog-fueled traffic. Walking instead now to your favorite restaurant and collecting your usual order to go, you next headed to the local park and finding one of the easily accessible benches beside the river, sat down and tucked into the mouthwatering ramen noodle dish that only David managed to prepare just the way you liked it.

Although to be fair you thought as you took that first delicious bite and savored every single flavor that assaulted your taste buds, the other staff members never really screwed up this dish and it was the main reason you loved their food so much, but there was just something extra that seemed to make it taste a whole lot nicer when David made it. Maybe he added something the others didn't. Maybe it was his infectious smile and sunny disposition. And then just maybe, it was the fact that he always had it hot and prepared for you the second you walked in as if he somehow accepted how excruciatingly tedious and demanding your work environment was and how precious this lunchtime break was for you.

A good deed in a weary world. And yet something so small that made a world of difference to you.

Finishing up your meal now and dumping the rubbish in the nearest bin provided, you then decided that a bit of exploration was due you before you headed back to the grind of daily life necessary to pay your bills and afford you some small pleasure away from the hustle and bustle of trying to get a leg up in the corporate world. And perhaps it was this very ruminating that found you off the beaten track in an area of the park you had never ventured before as a cloth came up to cover your mouth while the world went black all around you.

Coming back to the waking world some time later with absolutely no idea of what had happened in between or how much time had passed exactly, two things at least were perfectly clear .... and only one of them brought you any semblance of relief. Looking around the room now while simultaneously focusing your gaze on the outside world that greeted you through a nearby window, you knew beyond all doubt now that this was not your apartment while the vegetation blooming back at you confirmed this too was no longer the city you knew and worked in. As for the second thing? Well, the pounding in your head told you you were well and truly alive, but whether or not that was a good thing or a bad thing remained to be seen.

Rising slowly from the bed now and thankful from your head to your toes that every stitch of clothing you had last put on was at least in place, you still needed to know exactly what was going on. Walking then from the side of the huge bed over to the double doors that clearly opened on the outside world, you placed your palms on the handles and sent up a silent plea before quietly as possible pushing down and releasing a breath as the latches gave way and an exit appeared. Giving one last look behind you then to make sure you hadn't alerted whomever it was that brought you here against your will, you next stepped forwards into the unknown and faced what lay ahead. And what an experience that was.

Gazing around you now at wide open fields in every direction set against the backdrop of a picturesque mountain and river, it would have taken your breath away if not for the truth of what it revealed .... you were totally and utterly cut off from civilized society. Taking an extra few moments still to just stand there and soak in the peace and tranquility so evident in every rock and blade of grass before you, you then pulled yourself away from the quiet and headed back towards the house. It was time to figure out where you went from here.

Turning around then and walking back through the double doors that just moments ago had offered you freedom and then stolen it away just as easily, you stopped up short however when a man appeared through another door in the bedroom covered in only a towel as water droplets running down his exposed upper half told you he had just returned from a shower. Which actually explained why your absence had gone unnoticed .... at least until now.

"Well hello there chicklet, am I to assume by your return that you're not yet ready to try and make a run for it?" he asked while you simply stared blankly back at him as a thousand questions exploded in your mind like fireworks on the 4th of July. Yet nothing came out. So it seemed he would have to try again. "You don't remember me, do you chicklet?" he now asked as he walked fully into the room, closed the doors you had neglected in your shock and then sat down on the seat situated at the foot of the bed to await your response. A response that came rather quickly this time.

"Remember you? When the hell did I ever meet you?" you asked, but any answer from him was unnecessary as flashes of memory answered your own question for you. For you see you had met him.

Oh sure it was now a lifetime ago and he went by The Falcon back then, but there was no mistaking that beautiful smile, those soft eyes or the fact that you haven't lived your life under a rock. No, the whole world knew of Sam Wilson. Formerly known as the heroic Falcon, now carrying the mantle of Captain America, the whole world had witnessed his strength and character when The Flagsmashers had sought to create even more chaos out of the tragedy that was the Blip and the resulting return of all those people that had been snapped away. You on the other hand knew him personally. Kind of.

Sitting by the catwalk many years back at a New York Fashion Week event your friend Alice had somehow managed to get both of you tickets for, your memory of lying beneath the strapping superhero when guns began blasting and bullets started flying might have remained more prominent in your mind if it wasn't for well .... said gunfight. As it was, you remembered being tackled to the ground, moved this way and that to a safe place before the winged superhero told you to stay put upon rising from your position and heading off to help The Black Widow deal with whatever skirmish was wreaking havoc on the spectacular event.

No, that was definitely an encounter you were only too happy to forget. Even if it did include a run-in with an actual Avenger. But wait, if Sam Wilson was still an Avenger and he was now currently occupying a house in the middle of absolutely nowhere with you, then what exactly did that mean for your current location? After all, you had woken up that morning in England just like you did every other morning and Sam Wilson, as far as you could recall, was everything good that the United States of America had to offer. But they were oceans apart. Literally. So where the hell were you now?

In the time you had lost had you somehow been transported across the Atlantic to the good old U. S. of A.? Or was Captain America himself currently shacked up in the most idyllic of settings deep in the heart of the English countryside? Looking out the double doors once more and realizing now that you could in no way place this location in either country, you were about to give up and ask him where both of you were when a glance through the door he had just entered brought a whole new set of questions and distractions flooding through your mind.

Walking into that room while completely ignoring the half naked Adonis and staring in awe now at the rows of fabric that had caught your attention, one half of what appeared to be a gigantic closet filled with fabulous dresses, comfy casual wear and shoes that would have made Miranda Priestly swoon told you that you were in far more serious trouble than you had previously imagined. For this situation was not something that had just sprung up overnight. No, every little detail here had been meticulously planned. So turning back to the bedroom now and facing the man you suspected to be your abductor, you took a deep breath before asking that very same man what the fuck was going on.

"Aw come on now chicklet, isn't it obvious?" he asked with a smirk before continuing as you sat down on the chair nestled in the corner of the room. "I built this place for you. For us. This beautiful, isolated spot where you can live a life of pampered luxury without that tedious job sapping your joy and killing your creativity. I've read some of your work, you know. Who says fantasies don't come true?"

Staring at him blankly now as your mind began spinning with what he had just told you, your anxiety spiked to the point where if you weren't sitting down you would most possibly pass out yet again. As it was, you now had no alternative but to tell your brain to shut up and think. For what he was saying couldn't possibly be real. Right?

Oh sure, you were far from stupid or naïve. Anyone these days could find anything on the internet with enough savvy if they looked hard enough and of course you were well aware that one or two celebrities at least poked their virtual heads on Tumblr from time to time. BUT THIS? Had Sam Wilson really found your blog and read your fics? Had he truly discovered your secret desire to feel his powerful, naked body pressed against yours after he rescued you from a job that treated you no better than a mechanical robot tapping away at a keyboard and answering questions for people who couldn't even be bothered to thank you afterwards? Worse yet, how had he managed to put all the pieces together and actually track you down?

No, this couldn't seriously be what was happening here.

Looking up at him now however and seeing the truth etched quite plainly on his handsome face, you quickly got up from your chair and began frantically pacing back and forth before him as your anxiety spiked once more to levels you barely remembered previously experiencing. "No, no, no. This can't be happening. This can't be happening. This. Can't. Be. Happening," you now repeated like a manta in the hopes that saying it enough times, with enough conviction, might make it so. But that didn't happen as was evidenced when the man whose presence you now tried desperately to ignore reached out, pulled you onto his lap and stopped your ranting the only way he knew was guaranteed to shock you out of your current state.

He kissed you. And what a kiss it was.

Slow and deep. Soft and with nothing but luscious lips well versed in the art of seduction, the humming that left your throat as his lips first massaged your top one and then your bottom before alternating back and forth would have been a sound he could happily listen to all day if he didn't have other plans. For he wanted to hear you scream. Continuing to gently devour your lips without seeking entry, his hands now moved to cup your ass and massage here too as your brain began the process of slowing down the panic currently controlling your system. After all he did want you to agree to this and for that he needed you to be calm and thinking clearly. Well as clearly as his kisses would allow anyway.

Switching from a humming to a purring now as his ministrations continued to calm you while a warm feeling slowly made itself known between your thighs, you were finally relaxed enough to ask Sam what the plan was next, but it seemed he asked that question for you first. "So chicklet, can I interest you in a life of pleasure and debauchery after all?" he asked as his lips finally left yours and he pulled back from your face just long enough for you to look into his eyes as he continued, "What do you say? You willing to live here and let your creativity flourish while I spend my days saving the world and my nights ravishing every inch of this .... divine specimen," he finished as his palms squeezed your ass cheeks while his eyes roamed over your clothed form as if it was the most glorious sight he had ever seen.

And maybe it was, but you rarely thought so.

Looking back at him now in return as if he had completely lost his mind and wanting to tell him so, you opened your mouth to turn down his proposal but his lips now buried against your neck brought a whole different response. One you never consciously planned on making. "Yes. Yes. Oh my god, yes," you moaned out continuously as Sam now nibbled on your neck and shoulders before soothing the harsher nips with his tongue while his hands still caressed your ass and made you wonder if you could actually orgasm from this situation alone. Which was actually a frightening concept when you thought about it.

Coming to your senses long enough now as a result of this stray thought however, you pushed back slightly from the man beneath you to fully take in the position you were in. Sitting atop the thighs of Captain America, who was currently wearing nothing but a towel as he set the embers burning in your loins, you wanted to tell him to slow things down but he wasn't having any of it. You had accepted his offer and he now intended to show you exactly what that meant. "May I chicklet?" he asked and before your mouth could raise any objections, your head gave an imperceptible nod and that was all the consent he needed.

Returning to kiss your lips now as his tongue this time sought to invade your mouth and distract you from what his hands were doing, you might have been shocked by the strength he displayed in standing up with you in his arms and letting the towel fall from his waist if he wasn't so good with his damn mouth. As it was, he was very good. Kissing you endlessly, while twisting his tongue with yours as well as biting it gently every few swirls, you only now noticed the changes taking place when his face disappeared from before you, your back now rested against his chest and the closet door appeared in your vision once more. He had completely turned you around without ever letting you go.

But that wasn't even the most remarkable feat.

Sitting on his lap still as his lips now returned to tasting any bit of skin they came in contact with, your brain tried to figure out not how he had done what he'd done, but how your jeans and panties now lay lodged around your ankles as his hands began to make themselves acquainted with your most private region. Roaming along your thighs, squeezing here and there as well as opening you up as wide as was possible atop his powerful legs, the warmth now spreading outwards from your core just ached for him to quench it but he just wanted to have some fun. And all at your expense it seemed.

Running his fingers back and forth along your slit now as his other hand slid up your top to rest against your stomach, you whined and pleaded for him to make you come but that it seemed was not yet in his immediate plans. Circling your clit extremely slowly instead to the point where your hips began to move against him, he stopped and slapped your pussy once before chuckling into your neck at the yelp that left your tender lips. "Patience chicklet, we're a long ways off from making you squirt all over my sheets but .... maybe I can give you something to take the edge off," he offered and with that he once again defied the laws of man by somehow using a foot to finish removing your lower garments before lifting you up and slotting his shaft into your warm, wet and waiting pussy.

And what a feeling it was .... for both of you. Long and hard and thick enough to split your lower regions apart, you were by no means an innocent virgin, but you suddenly doubted you would ever be satisfied with any rod other than the one currently making its presence known to your fluttering walls. Not that Sam had any intention of allowing another man or his equipment anywhere near you.

Making you comfortable then as your perfect flower held him snugly in place and his weeping tip just kissed your cervix, his hands now removing your top clothes while his lips by your ear whispered not to move told you his plan was a simple one .... to pleasure you with everything he had except what you really, really wanted. In other words, he planned to torture you.

Verbally railing against him now as his hands began massaging your breasts while his lips now became acquainted with every bump and dip along your spine, your hands moving down to tend to the ache between your legs brought a murderous slew of profanities streaming from your mouth as his teeth made themselves known to the soft juncture of your neck and your shoulder.

"Chicklet no," he reprimanded now as he pulled his teeth back and he ran his lips over the spot that was sure to sport a lovely mark come morning, "you'll get your release when I give it to you and not a second sooner," he continued as his hands now moved further upwards to allow his fingers dance against your shoulder blades. Pressing here and kissing there now as you held onto his thighs to keep from toppling forwards, the moans you soon started releasing as his skillful talents worked out knots you never knew existed were matched only by the devious chuckles coming from the man behind you when the odd thrust upwards added a growl from you every now and then.

The bastard wasn't playing fair.

Continuing to run his fingers over every inch of your glorious body as his hands moved down to finally rest atop yours, you hoped now you might finally get some release, but Sam it seemed still wasn't cooperating. Taking your left hand in his now and linking your fingers together, he next took your hand and moved it to his sac before speaking. "You feel that chicklet? What you do to me? You have no idea the number of nights I've gotten myself off to your writing wishing we could make it real. Who knows, now that I have you we might even give your back door the attention it so desperately craves," he added and realizing what he was now referencing, your body produced a burst of strength you never knew you possessed and hurled you back across the room as horror dawned on your face while surprise clearly settled on Sam's.

"Please tell me you've taken one too many blows to the head and taken leave of your senses?" you now asked as you reached for the throw resting on the chair and wrapping it around you while waiting for the superhero to prove your suspicions wrong. For he couldn't possibly be suggesting that.

Unfortunately for you however that's exactly where his mind was headed. Reiterating once more that he wanted to experience everything with you, both sexual and otherwise, he now joined you on the floor before promising that any and all adventures would only take place when you were ready and with your complete and unwavering consent.

Content at least with the sincerity you found in his eyes and voice, you agreed in principle to give him a chance as he then stood up, offered his hand and pulled you gently from the floor when you easily obliged. Walking you to the bed then before tipping up back onto it, a few kisses later and his shaft was buried deep inside your pussy as his eyes stared into yours and fingers once more laced with your own just inches from the headboard.

Pulling out slowly then before plunging back in at the same leisurely pace so your quivering walls felt every ridge, vein and twitch his impressive phallus possessed, it was nothing compared to the magic his lips were working. Feasting on your breasts with just enough pressure to dull the lines between pleasure and pain, his tongue soothing the skin felt like utter bliss. As were his words.

Dripping with honey and whispered out between bites and moans, the professions of love, praise and plans for your future together did far more in this moment to turn you on really than anything his physical form was capable of. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. Continuing to gaze into his eyes now as you felt your body moving ever closer to that elusive release you thought would never come, Sam stalled his hips just long enough to whisper those three little words that sent a flutter straight to your heart as your walls contracted and tried to pull him deeper.

"I offer freedom," and with that he kissed you deeper than he had before, brought your interlocked hands closer together and pounded into you with such abandon now that it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. And yet you still didn't feel pain. There was nothing but love and pleasure and as both of you finally reached the precipice and leapt forwards together there was a strange sense of completeness. Of being whole.

Continuing then to kiss you through your orgasms as wave after wave of warm cum flooded your insides and reached the sheets as Sam had earlier promised, your eyes closing on this liberating experience shut out any words he murmured as sleep dragged you into its welcoming embrace.

Opening your eyes on the world again and almost crying out from the loss of the dream that was both bizarrely weird yet oddly satisfying, you snuggled deeper into the soft sheets to hold onto the memory a little while longer. For you didn't want it to disappear. Someone had wanted to worship you. To love you, provide for you and show you that their world began and ended with you. But of course that only proved it had to vanish. Work wouldn't wait, wouldn't give you what you most craved.

Groaning in frustration now as you resigned yourself to heading back to the daily grind, a hand appearing from behind you and resting across your stomach brought your focus squarely and securely on the other half of the bed however. For it seemed you weren't alone. Frantically wondering what to do now in regards to fight, flight or simply screaming your lungs out like the damsel did in every single horror movie you had ever watched, turning slowly now to assess the situation brought a whole new shocking and wondrous revelation to your unbelieving eyes. The dream it seemed was real.

Laying beside you now, his hand still resting where it had just landed, his naked form clothed in fabric and sleep, Sam Wilson looked a vision if such a thing could be said about a man. But what then did this mean for you? Was the dream actually real and not a dream at all? Had this real life, honest to goodness superhero been serious when he offered to pamper and pleasure you every second his presence wasn't required to save the world? Did this really mean you never had to work in that deplorable, dead end job again where you were less valued than the office chair you sat on?

Contemplating all these questions now while reaching out to touch the man beside you simply to further confirm his existence was real, you were just about to place your palm gently upon his cheek when you thought better of it. This was nuts. Total, complete and utter bonkers. Your life wasn't meant to be this easy and carefree. Writing stories and having your every sexual desire catered to by your very own superhero. Never again having to worry about bills, unappreciative bosses or rude customers whom it seemed had never been taught terms like kindness or common decency.

No, things like this never happened to you and so as you resigned yourself to the fact that all of this was simply wishful thinking, you turned away from the god before you and prepared to exit the bed and return to the reality that was your life. But it seemed this trip was only ever meant to be one way.

Joining you now away from the peaceful embrace of slumber that previously held all of his attention, Sam opened his eyes, reached out his other hand and pulled you tighter towards him. "Now, now chicklet, I hope you don't plan on sneaking out of our bed to run off somewhere at this god awful early hour. It's too warm and cozy here for me to have to chase you down and fuck you where I catch you," he murmured between still sleepy breaths.

Gulping down your shock now as images of his glorious erection splitting you apart the previous night sprang forth before your eyes, his knowing smirk told you he had you right where he wanted you. You weren't yet ready for another round. Still unsure of where he got his stamina from and how you were meant to keep up, the throbbing still present in your pussy and his intense gaze raking over your equally naked form quickly and easily made up your mind.

Now was the time to be his good girl.

Finally admitting defeat and turning back onto your side, you silently allowed Sam Wilson to spoon your bodies together and pull the covers back over both of you before closing your eyes and drifting back to sleep with the promise that when you woke again you would try employing reason and common sense to regain control over your future. Even if the grip around your midsection solidly confirmed your plan was doomed to failure and the future he promised was now yours for the taking.

#dark-ish!Sam Wilson x Female Reader #Sam Wilson

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deja-mew · 4 months ago

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Here, take a bunch of Predaking, Skylynx and Darksteel headcanons!

As a treat!! They were a treat for me to write ✍️. Silly dragon guys I ❤️❤️ Love them.

✧˖*°࿐

- Of course he would never admit this to anyone who doesn’t already know, but Predaking is extremely ticklish on the bottom of his feet, only back towards his heels. Darksteel found this out the hard way one day when he thought it would be silly to try tickling him while he was having a snooze and accidentally got kicked into next Thursday.

- Skylynx likes to wake up extra early to see the sunrise. He sneaks away to be as alone as possible, just before dawn breaks, and finds a good place to watch the sun come up. He loves soaking in the first morning rays of sunshine. It’s usually his favorite part of the day! He never talks about it to anyone though, it would be spoiled if anyone else tried to come with.

- Darksteel loves tiny creatures. He just thinks they’re so cool (anything but scraplets). If he had ever met Lazerbeak he would have been a fan. In my AU, there’s all sorts of “tiny” (by cybertronian standards) bug-like creatures and he collects them! He gets so hyped up learning about new ones. Maybe he’d like humans, but who knows..

- Predaking, even if he had legions of subjects, is super attentive and has a very detailed memory. He’d remember everyone’s name, face, even things about their personality/things they’d mention liking. He is definitely one of those people who would gift someone something they had only just slightly mentioned wanting (and had probably forgotten they said anything about it in the first place).

- Darksteel counts it as a great victory if he ever gets Skylynx to full-on laugh with him. It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes they both get really silly over something and Darksteel likes not being the only one laughing for once.

- This isn’t much of a headcanon because it’s probably pretty true, but I’ll take it further. Predaking loves reading. Researching, yes of course, since he needs to know all he can to best serve his people; but aside from that he just loves to read. Novels, poems, news reports, you name it. He’s already read it. His particular favorite though, is novels. I once imagined him reading Jane Austen and I can’t get it out of my head now. I’m sure he was ready to throw down for Elizabeth when Mr. Darcy insulted her family in Pride and Prejudice. (Imagine the Autobots giving him some datapads filled with similar content from Earth for him to read, to help maintain a good relationship with the Predacons… And he’s genuinely so hyped but trying to be professional in the moment 😭)

- Probably nobody else on Cybertron does this but when Darksteel gets extra giddy about something he trots. At least in quadroped mode anyway, he doesn’t exactly skip in bipedal mode because well that would be too embarrassing and he’s too fierce for that… but it’s okay to do as a dragon in his own mind.

- Skylynx and Darksteel both like trying to blow smoke rings. Like how they do in movies, with cigars and such. Instead of needing to be smoking something, if they do something similar to a belch, they can naturally puff out smoke instead of fire. Sometimes they’re even able to get Predaking to play along and the three contend with each other on who can do the best ones.

- At some point, they get a hold of a great bunch of music files. Things get a little tense. While Predaking is trying to enjoy Tchaikovsky 1812 Overture (complete with cannons), Darksteel is playing Dragostea din tei too loud. Skylynx can’t stand any of it and just wants to listen to his Grizzly Bear playlist in peace, so to avoid confrontation everyone sort of splits off to mind their own music. Hopefully they get some custom headphones soon. (Basically, Predaking’s all about classical music, Darksteel loves meme songs, and Skylynx is an indie folk fan)

- Predaking usually doesn’t remember his dreams, but when he does they’re extremely abstract yet vivid. Mostly, they’re representations of whatever he has been feeling most. Because he sleeps rather lightly, they are pretty rare.

- Skylynx sleeps deeply, and has realistic dreams that have their own plots and everything. Sometimes he even has consecutive nights that are the same dream just continued on from where it left off the night before. He likes to keep track of these stories and writes down everything he can remember as soon as he gets a chance.

- Darksteel also gets good deep sleep most of the time. Though he never remembers his dreams enough to be able to talk about them or write them down, he knows they must be pretty good, because he never seems to wake up in a bad mood. Of all the three Predacons, he usually is the one to wake up most refreshed.

- All three take their morning energon (or whatever equivalent of breakfast there may be) together, usually in a comfortable silence. They do have their own routines to get ready for the day, but they also like to, actively like to, spend calm time together before the day officially starts. It’s one of the many subtle things they do naturally that shows that they’re getting quite close as bretheren after all.

#transformers prime #tfp predaking #transformers predaking #tfp skylynx #transformers skylynx #tfp darksteel #transformers darksteel #tfp predacons #predacons #mewyra thoughts #MY GUYSSS i love them

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lizard-shifter-noms · 6 months ago

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Still Subject to Change Chapter 16 (NEW)

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Hello everyone! i decided to repost arc 1 of SSTC

(the chapters were way too long and had a bunch of typos but hopefully this will make reading easier)

this Story contains Vore, Dont like dont read.

if there are still any grammatical errors i’m sorry.

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The next time I woke up it was because someone kept shoving at my cheek.

“Donovan! Wake up! You’ve been asleep for over ten hours!”

What? That long? Now that couldn’t be right but I opened my eyes anyway.

Robin was in front of me and despite being so close to my face he still looked so small.

Arthur’s head popped up from somewhere on the side, carrying all the stuff we had and put it on the ground, probably to sort it.

“How are you, big guy?”

Good question, I did feel better than yesterday but everything was still aching horribly.

“Sore, but still better than yesterday”

He nodded slowly and Robin tried to snatch some of the stuff to look it over.

“Okay that’s good! Do you think you can walk? Cuz we kinda have the problem that we need to go out and get food”

Oh right, I was the only one that didn’t need to eat, and honestly staying in this cave where there was no sunlight couldn’t be very good for me either.

However there was another problem, Rikaad was still stuck in my pouch And if I were to get him out at a later point outside of the relatively warm cave he’d just freeze again.

The frigid outside air would immediately strip him of any warmth and not to mention when he got out he’d be- well not dry, so that was an added problem as it would seep out any body heat he had even faster.

“I guess i can walk, but i should get Rikaad out first, if i do that out in the snow he will freeze”

At my words there was some slight movement in my pouch and I was happy to find that it didn’t hurt that much anymore.

“I am not keen on getting that cold again, maybe you can look in the area close to the cave for something to eat if Donovan cant get me out right now?”

It was the first thing I heard him say since I woke up and it was of course something completely reasonable and logical.

It was like any trace of the absolutely mad person that had chased me through the snow was completely gone, and it greatly confused me.

I decided not to ask, maybe the cold froze some parts of his brain or something.

Arthur looked not very convinced and Robin was sorting the meager stuff we owned into neat little piles.

“Well i could try, you stay here and rest some more and Robin you can uhh- put the stuff away we don’t need okay?”

Robin nodded and went to bring the things he sorted over to the pond where they had left their little bags.

Arthur meanwhile had picked up his sword and put it on his belt.

“I’ll be back as soon as i can, don’t worry about me”

He went over to the exit of the cave to go outside, hesitating only for a few seconds as the cold seeped through the gap in the stone before going out.

“I hope he finds something, we kinda forgot to get anything while you were so badly hurt”

Oh, I didn’t know how to feel, they were so worried about me that they forgot to get a basic supply.

But for once in my life I knew that somebody cared about me.

Actually cared, not just pretended because they wanted something.

Since I could move again at least somewhat I held a hand out to Robin and gave him a sort of hand-hug.

He was too small to give a proper hug to so this would have to do.

He leaned into the touch and I was able to tussle his ginger hair a bit.

“I’m glad you’re okay”

He gripped the non bandaged part of my thumb and hugged me back.

Seeing the incredibly small human trust me so much and freely admit that he was worried made my heart melt.

Being able to just interact with someone in a positive way wasn’t something I was able to do for years as the streets weren’t kind to bastards.

He looked so small in my hand and I knew that as soon as I brought them to Kamerasca he’d be the one I would miss the most.

Right, bringing them home, the place I couldn’t go.

I shoved the sad feelings aside, for now I would enjoy the time I could spend with people that didn’t plan on killing me.

Well most of them didn’t plan on killing me.

Rikaad was still in my pouch and when Arthur came back I would attempt to get him out.

He was probably sick of being in there and unable to do anything.

Not to mention there was basically no view and he wasn’t allowed to move much lest it upset the wounds again.

I was however really impressed that he managed to lay still for so long.

I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to do that, I was already sick of just lying on the floor after about two hours.

Maybe I should try to get up, if I was to get Rikaad out soon I probably should get used to moving again first.

Slowly taking my hand back and ignoring Robin’s disappointed noise I shifted to brace both of my hands on the ground.

I slowly heaved myself up to a sitting position being very careful about the stitches in my pouch and did my best to not let Rikaad bump into them.

He slid a little and came to rest at the bottom of the pouch.

He still wasn’t moving much and at this point it was beginning to get worrying.

I knew i hadn’t injured him when i swallowed him so what was wrong?

Gently placing a hand over my pouch without applying any pressure I decided to just ask so we could move on with all of this stuff.

“Rikaad you okay? The moving didn’t disorient you?”

There was a few seconds of worrying silence before he answered.

“I am fine, if bored, how are you? I didn’t come in contact with the wounds again did i?”

Ah so he was worried he’d touched something, that was, well that was considerate of him.

It took a few seconds for me to register that he barely moved because he felt Guilty.

He was the one that slashed me with a knife or whatever he had used and then continued kicking and elbowing me.

He was keeping still and quiet because he felt bad about it.

I could live with that, it WAS kinda his fault.

But i didn’t hate him, even if he overreacted a bit it was an understandable response after all.

I decided to leave it for now and instead focus on what I needed to be doing one step at a time.

Taking my hand away from its spot on my pouch I instead lent it to Robin who had been trying to climb up my knees.

He scrambled into it and I gently set him down on my knee where he had been trying to get to.

He sat down with his legs crossed and looked up at me.

“Is he okay? I can’t really hear him from here”

Ah yeah i suppose it would sound muffled for anyone else, I was rather surprised myself that I could hear it so well.

“He’s alright, why don’t you talk to him a bit?”

I offered my hand to him once again while leaning a bit backwards against the cave wall to have some support on my back.

He climbed on without hesitation and I brought him up to my chest so he could hear Rikaad.

I was careful and didn’t set him directly on the pouch as I wasn’t sure if my bruised flesh could take it, but he settled just underneath it and leaned his head on where he thought Rikaad was.

He was almost laying on me like a mattress and it was kinda adorable.

But I hoped Arthur would come back soon, they all needed something to eat even if it was something small.

“Rikaad? Can you hear me? How are you?”

I could feel that he turned his head to where Robin was on the other side of my flesh before he replied.

“I can hear you yes, and i am fine if a little bored”

Robin seemed to perk up at hearing the voice of his friend again and settled fully onto my torso to chat with the man currently stuck in my guts.

I leaned completely against the wall so I was leaning a fair bit back, but at least Robin wouldn’t fall off like this.

The little ginger had already started to chatter Rikaads ears off and I tuned it out for now, I was still tired and he technically wasn’t talking to me.

I didn’t want to be rude, and I didn’t want someone stuck in my pouch either so I hoped I could get him out soon.

I did not want to be a living prison for the stoic man currently laying there, and I definitely hadn’t wanted to scare him either.

But if everything went well I would try to get him out as soon as Arthur was back, since he was stuck for who knew how long he was probably hungry.

Out of boredom I started looking at the cave walls.

The glowy moss wasn’t growing everywhere, mostly on the side we were on and around the pond.

It was pretty looking i had to admit that, on my way back to Oakley i should try to find this spot again and bring him some, maybe he’d know why it was glowing in the first place.

He kinda seemed like the type of person that would enjoy some freaky plants.

I suddenly noticed that it was a lot more quiet and glancing down I saw that Robin had fallen asleep on my chest.

The sight of it was adorable, but it also meant that now I could not move without waking him up.

At least the position wasn’t uncomfortable and the moss that grew on the stone acted a bit like a cushion.

I wasn’t the only one that had noticed Robin had suddenly fallen silent as Rikaad tensed for a second.

“Donovan? Why is Robin suddenly so quiet? Is he alright? Did he fall off?”

“No, hes sleeping so just let him”

At my words he untensed his muscles and was back to playing corpse with his weight.

“I do want to repeat that i am extremely regretful of what i have done, whether or not you believe me is up to you”

He was making it hard to stay angry when I could clearly tell that he felt really bad about all of it.

“I do believe you, you tried your best to help afterwards.

I was just snappy because everything hurt, but you did stitch it up and that helped a great deal so don’t beat yourself up over it okay?”

“That is fair, though i have to ask how much i can move in here without upsetting the wounds, i do not want to cause anymore pain to you”

Ah so that’s why he had barely moved at all, He was worried about hurting me even more.

“You can shift a bit if you want, just steer clear of the walls and there’s no problem”

I could feel him relax just the tiniest bit at the affirmation that he could move without hurting me.

“I will do my best to steer clear of those then, but I have to admit that I am curious as to how you found out about this in the first place.

According to Robin and Arthur you knew of this before we met Oakley”

Oh, they told him, didn’t they? Better explain then, Besides, it was a rather boring story anyway.

“Well i have some of my organs doubled some of them work some of them don’t, like i have four kidneys, well three now don’t ask, so i basically used it to hide coins and valuables before this madness started”

“What other Organs are doubled if I may ask?”

He seemed intrigued and i wasn’t sure how much to tell him, I didn’t know everything myself either.

“Uhh well i have the pouch where you are right now and as i said the kidneys, oh and i have two hearts but only one of them is beating”

Robin suddenly tried to turn and I had to put my hand over him to stop the ginger from falling off of me.

He made a little ‘mrrf’ sound and went back to sleeping soundly, I did keep my hand there just in case though.

“How do you know you have two hearts if only one is beating?

Not to be rude but if mine wasn’t beating i doubt i could tell it was there”

That was… a good question actually, I only remembered my mother telling me how to find it if I pressed in at the right spot next to my lungs.

“As far as i can Remember my mother told me how to find it, no idea how she knew, and i can’t ask a ghost”

For a few seconds Rikaad went quiet again and I thought for a few moments he’d give me the silent treatment again before he finally responded.

“So you have just used this as a purse basically? I doubt that is hygienic, did you not get sick?”

Was the first part supposed to be funny? Whatever, He was now the second person to ask if I did not get sick.

“No, somehow I didn’t, but I did my best to wash everything so maybe that helped enough to not get sick?”

“So washing things good enough can stave off sickness? That is good to know”

That was a good point, apparently having things clean reduced the risk of contracting anything.

To be fair the reason I had started doing this was because I saw what other stuff people handled and did not want to put such things in my mouth, let alone swallow it.

“Yeah maybe the next time there’s an outbreak of whatever you can just wash everything”

It was nice being able to make lighthearted conversation now, though I did wonder when Arthur would be coming back.

“Wash what for what?”

A sleepy voice mumbled from under my hand, Robin had woken up again and blinked owlishly up at me.

“Good morning, decided to come back to the land of the waking?”

At the mention of Robin being awake again Rikaad called out to him.

“Have you slept well?”

Robin groggily got into a sitting position and yawned

“Yeah, I’m good, is Arthur back yet?”

“Uh-”

I looked over to the entrance of the cave but there was nothing there except more moss and stone.

“No not yet, but i’m sure he’ll be back soon”

While I spoke Robin attempted to climb down my side and I scooped him up to gently set him on the ground.

“I’m gonna go look if i can see him outside somewhere!”

He scrambled out of my palm before I could properly set him down and ran for the entrance, half disappearing behind the bend that led outside.

“Is he always like this?”

I asked Rikaad who had leaned back again while Robin tried to get off my chest.

“Sometimes, depends on how much sugar he’s had so never give him any”

That checked out, I could clearly imagine a hyper Robin running around and causing havoc.

“Well while he’s busy i’m going to try and get you out, it should be fine now, i think”

He seemed confused at my words and as I slowly stood up I heard him ask.

“What? Are you sure? I do not want to do anymore damage to you”

“You already said that, and I’m pretty sure it’s fine, I do want to leave this cave sometime you know?”

I walked over to the pond doing my best to keep Rikaads weight off the front of my pouch and kneeled down next to the water.

The small body of water couldn’t have been bigger than a horse carriage but was only about four feet deep.

Drowning in this shouldn’t be a concern, and it was pleasantly warm.

“Alright brace yourself, just don’t tense up or i’m going to choke”

“I will try my best”

At his confirmation I began to squish my pouch together from the bottom to top to get Rikaad back into my esophagus.

It stung, badly even, but I had already started so I was going to see this through.

I started to hack a bit as he entered the back of my throat, He was bigger than the other two and that made it a bit harder to properly get him out.

I did manage not to gag and get him out though, gently sliding the damp form into the water before turning my head away and coughing into my elbow.

Looking down I saw that he was turning the water an orangish hue from the blood that clung to his clothes, my blood.

Eww, and that couldn’t have been comfortable either.

“Are you alright? This did not hurt you did it?”

His concern was nice but it was nothing, just my body telling me to throw up again even if there was nothing to throw up in the first place.

Ugh, I hoped that I wasn’t getting sick after all this.

“Im fine, just a bit nauseous, i’ll be okay in a few minutes don’t worry”

I sat back against the wall, but as soon as I had done that Robin came back from the exit of the cave.

“I can see him! Make the fire ready! I think he got something!”

He fell over halfway with a squeak but stood back up immediately and started picking up every little branch he could find.

“Robin be careful, let me help”

Rikaad heaved himself out of the water and wrung out his clothes before he was swept into a hug by Robin.

“Rikaad! I’m so glad you didn’t freeze!”

He slowly and a bit awkwardly returned the hug.

“So am i, so am i, believe me”

He softly pried himself away from the ginger and went over to the fire.

“HEYY GUYS! I GOT SOMETHING!”

At the shout three pairs of eyes snapped to the entrance of the cave.

Robin was right, Arthur had found something! That meant that they could eat something soon.

And after that we could finally leave this cave and move on.

Move closer to Kamerasca where I would leave them for good.

I shoved the thoughts down for now, I could deal with them on the way back to Oakley.

At least they would be safe there.

I wasn’t the only one wondering what Arthur had caught thorough, judging by the curious look Robin gave the brown furred thing that Arthur had brought.

“What did you get?”

He held up something that looked like an oversized bunny that had a few too many muscles and longer legs.

A Hare, he’d caught one of those wild lapines, not an easy feat.

“A Hare? Those are hard to catch! I’m impressed!”

He just mumbled something inaudible at the praise and handed the carcass over to Robin who then set on to properly gut the thing.

It seemed he hadn’t noticed Rikaad till now as he did a double take at the taller man before a huge smile plastered itself onto his face.

“Hey, how are you? Your legs didn’t fall asleep in there?”

I was kinda glad that he didn’t mention that HIS legs had been a bit wobbly after I got him out, while Rikaad probably knew by now it was still awkward.

I really didn’t want to talk about any of this ever again.

Well soon enough the only one I could talk to would be Oakley.

At least that wouldn’t be as boring as being by myself.

By the time the fire was back to a bigger size, one that could be used for a spit roast, Robin had carved out all of the entrails of the Hare and Rikaad had carved an adequate branch to skewer the meat on.

I had to admit that it smelled amazing, but I didn’t dare ask for anything, they needed it more than I did.

I instead tried to figure out what we would do next.

“So after this what are we going to do? Leave the cave and continue?”

It took a few seconds for someone to answer, likely because Robin had stuffed his face and Arthur tried to gnaw tiny pieces from a bone.

So the only one able to talk was Rikaad.

“Well i would suggest to rest the night here and leave tomorrow, i think that is the best solution, we should take advantage of the warmer cave for tonight and rest well before we move on”

Yup back to being the logical one, It was like the freaked out version of him never existed.

But he was, of course, right.

It was late and going out now was dumb, So why not take advantage of the warmer cave and leave the next morning well rested?

He would make a good Guard captain one day, I was sure of it, he had the potential to do so at least.

Maybe he’d even get to be the headmaster, I wouldn’t be too surprised, honestly.

I could also finally sleep without having to worry about something bumping into the wounds.

Yes, a good rest would do all of us well.

While the others cleaned up and disposed of the Hare’s guts I went to pick out a spot to sleep.

I chose one nearer to the water this time and next to the wall facing the entrance.

If something did get in here i would see it, maybe i could even get rid of it without waking anyone else too.

Rikaad scheduled me and Arthur for the second half of taking watch.

I could take a good guess why, I didn’t mind being up early and neither did Arthur, Robin however was not an early bird and would fall back asleep.

So placing the two that actually would stay awake to the second shift made sense.

For now I could just curl up sideways and sleep.

I curled around my now empty pouch and sort of held both my hands to it.

It felt weird now, Rikaad was out and the stabs had been sewed up.

To be honest I hoped it would not start to itch, That would be a nightmare.

At least now i could get some actual rest for once, since this madness started i had barely any good sleep so maybe now i could get some.

I hadn’t even realized that I had fallen asleep until I was Woken up by Rikaad for my turn to take the watch.

Glancing over I could see that Robin was already sleeping like a rock, that was fast, well he was a bit younger and probably needed more sleep than we did so whatever.

At least guarding this camp would be easy as there was only one place where anything could come from.

However just staring at the gap between the rocks was extremely boring,

So boring in fact that it was hard to stay awake.

“This is lame, we are just staring at a hole waiting if something dares come in here”

At least Arthur shared the sentiment, if all our stuff wasn’t already put in the bags and ready to go I might have attempted that.

But with how big my fingers were, that probably wouldn’t go well.

“Hey i don’t think i ever thanked you for punting that manticore off of me did i?”

Oh right, at the start of this madness he was attacked by one of those chimeran monsters and I had thrown it against a tree.

That felt like it was an entire world away now.

“Uh i guess? If you did then i can’t remember it, Rikaad did thank me though while you were lying on the ground”

“Of course he did, why wouldn’t he, but uhh, for what it's worth thank you”

We lapsed into an awkward silence for a few moments, So far I had only taken watch with Arthur once.

Otherwise I had always taken watch with Robin or Rikaad, who had probably done this on purpose.

He knew that at the start we didn’t like each other and kept us apart.

Now it was a bit different, he surely had figured out that I just let Robin sleep when he was supposed to be watching and he himself might not want to be alone with me right now after what happened.

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