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reginaphalange2403 · 1 year ago

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Never Again

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Despite an intense dislike for one another, you and Bucky begrudgingly get paired together for a mission. You’re forced to look past your differences when things so south.

Warnings: Canon level violence, asshole Bucky (at first), enemies to lovers vibes, other mcu characters make appearances. Word count: 6.1k

a/n: AHHHH my first fic in like 6 months! this is also the first time I've ever written for Bucky or written anything like this. It was a lot of fun and I hope I did him justice lol. Enjoy!

The loud hissing of the Keurig was a rude awakening to your 7am start to the day. Unfortunately, Steve had decided to hold a team conference meeting at 8. Why he chose to annoy you all like this, you weren’t sure.

“Are you fucking done yet?” You instantly recognized the deep, rough voice muttering under his breath behind you. Bucky had his arms folded and was impatiently waiting for you to finish up at the machine so he could make his own cup.

“Already have a stick up your ass today, huh Barnes?” You spit back at him before moving to let him use the Keurig.

“Well, I wouldn’t have one if you weren’t the first thing I saw when I came down the stairs.”

Damn. That stung. “Have you ever been nice for once in your life? Or is being a dick just a permanent part of your personality?”

At your words, Bucky looked up at you and feigned offense “Oh, I’m nice” He assured you in an almost sweet tone, before turning cold again “…to people that deserve it.”

You rolled your eyes at him, muttering a ‘whatever’, and left the kitchen to go take a seat in the conference room. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an atypical conversation for you to have with Bucky. Ever since you had joined the team almost a year ago - at Natasha Romanoff’s request - Bucky had been anything but welcoming. At first, you thought it was just friendly banter, him trying to sarcastically intimidate you, but it was clear by now that he genuinely had a deep distaste for you.

Soon enough, everyone else started to file in for the meeting. Nat smiled as she took the seat next to you, her regular spot, and quietly started asking you about your morning. Bucky was the last one to enter the room, and by that point the only seat left was the one on your other side.

He glared at you as he sat down.

“It’s not my fault you’re always late to these things” You quipped under your breath.

“Don’t push it, sweetheart” Bucky frustratingly muttered, and you quickly opened your mouth to reply before Natasha interrupted,

“Don’t bother with him, Y/N. He’s always a grump in the mornings”

‘No, he’s always a grump to me’ you thought to yourself, but kept your mouth shut.

“Good Morning, everyone” Steve finally got started with the meeting, a cheery grin on his face that was all too happy for 8am, in your opinion.

“As you all know, for months now we’ve been trying to track down where exactly Ian Haverford and his men have been setting up camp and operating their illegal activities” Most recently, the team had been working on taking down a group of rouge scientists. They had somehow been creating and using a serum that was similar to the super soldier serum. A antidote that made them have increased strength, speed and agility. They then used their new enhancements to rob and kill storeowners, evade the police, and then subsequently sell the drugs and weapons that they had stolen.

“We’ve finally located their compound, up in rural Virginia, we-“

“What he meant to say was I located their compound in Virginia” Tony cheekily butt in.

Steve sighed, having to stop his own eye roll, “Fine, yes, Tony located the compound. Anyway, as I was saying…We believe that that’s where they’re making the serum. The sooner we go in, the less time they have to continue using the serum and giving it to more people. Now, I didn’t necessarily think this was a task we all needed to partake in. It really only requires two people to take down Haverford and gather intel on what chemicals they’ve been using”

Steve took a big breath before revealing who he had assigned to the mission, knowing he’d have hell to pay, “Y/N and Bucky will be heading to Virginia tomorrow morning-“

“Are you serious Rogers?!” You immediately confronted Steve’s decision as you heard Bucky next you,

“You’ve got to be kidding me” He mumbled, clearly as annoyed as you were.

Steve put his hands up defensively, “I know the two of you don’t always get along, but I was hoping this assignment would allow you to work together and actually have to interact beyond your bickering”

You had never been on a mission with just Bucky before. Of course, the two of you had been on missions with the rest of the avengers together, but never just the two of you.

Steve continued, “Besides, we need someone who’s a super soldier to infiltrate the compound. Bucky has the strength and speed to match that of Haverford’s people. And Y/N, you also have enhancements, it makes sense to send the both of you in together.” He concluded by basically saying his decision was final, and that you and Buck would be leaving on a quinjet first thing tomorrow.

During your years in the red room, you had been injected with various substances and drugs that over time had enhanced your agility, flexibility, reflexes and even your sight. But you didn’t see how that made you a necessary aspect to this assignment. You were sure Steve was just using that as an excuse, he really just wanted you to get along better with Bucky.

Speaking of which, Buck stood up from his chair as you looked over at him, he glowered at you for a moment before scoffing, “Guess I’ll just have to grin and bear it” and with that he left the room.

You stayed, waiting for everyone else to file out so that you could speak with Steve privately. Natasha gave you a sympathetic look and squeezed your shoulder, as she was the last one to head out after talking to Steve for a while herself. You were always sort of jealous of their friendship. Of course, you had Nat. Who was your closest confidant in the group. But you also wanted to be close with the guys as well. You supposed Steve was your friend, but sometimes it felt like he looked at you as more of a younger sister.

Finally, it was just you and Steve alone in the room and you were still sitting in your same seat, Steve standing at the head of the table. He tilted his head towards you and quirked his eyebrows, waiting for you to say something.

“Why does he hate me?” You asked quietly. You had always wanted to go to Steve for advice on how to handle Bucky, but never wished to cause a rift in their friendship or make Steve feel like he was put in the middle of something.

His eyes went soft and he sighed, “Oh Y/N” He began gently “I know it may come off that way, but Buck doesn’t hate you. He just…” Steve looked to find the right words, “has a hard time handling his emotions and how he feels about people… especially people that bring up past trauma for him”

Steve’s little hint helped you clue in to what he was trying to imply. You knew that Bucky had a history with the red room, long before you ever did, but you never really knew the details of it or how he was involved. You were saved from Dreykov almost a year ago when Natasha returned to destroy him. You were one of Yelena’s closest friends and she had introduced you to Nat, who then saw how skilled you were and decided to invite you to join the avengers, since you really had no other home to go to. Yelena meanwhile, had wanted to enjoy her freedom a little more and chose to see the world a bit before deciding to join any sort of vigilante team. Though Natasha always held out hope that she would finally join one day when she felt ready.

“But Nat’s from the red room too!” You defended yourself, “And Bucky treats her perfectly fine! It’s not my fault that my past is what it is. I can’t help the fact that I was raised there, why does he have to hold that against me?” You started to get emotional and Steve could tell, so he began to try and explain his friends behavior.

“Well, he’s gotten to know Natasha for a few years now, so I think they’re on better terms. Plus he kinda owes her one for how she saved both our asses during the whole…sokovia accords thing” Steve said the last part quietly while sort of shamefully looking down. Despite the fact that it was worked out now, that whole incident with him, Tony and Bucky still deeply bothered Steve to even bring up.

He continued after a moment, “He doesn’t hold it against you Y/N, it’s not your fault. He just doesn’t like the memories you bring up for him, the things you remind him of. And he doesn’t know how to properly process and work through them, so instead he just takes out that pent up anger and self hatred on you. It’s not fair to you, but it’s also not your fault.”

“Get him to see a therapist then” you muttered.

Steve scoffed, “Believe me, I’ve tried.”

He then walked around the length of the table to where you were sitting and gave you a pleading look, “Just give him a chance. Hopefully this mission will be the thing that finally gets him to see you in a different light. I know it’s hard to believe, but he really does have a sweet, soft side under all that brooding, if you dig deep enough” And that was what Steve left you with as he walked out, leaving you alone to mull over what he had said.

———————

For the rest of that day, you and Bucky both avoided each other. You spent most of the afternoon locked up in your room or in the gym, perfecting a few moves with Nat’s help in preparation for your assignment. You didn’t see Bucky all day, you assumed he also was doing his best to not run into you.

Now, you were seated across from him on the quinjet, an awkward silence taking up the majority of the ride to a rural part of Virginia. He barely even looked at you for the entire 2 hour flight. Mostly staring down at his hands with airpods in, or having his head tilted back and eyes closed. As you neared the end of your trip, jet about to touch down, you noticed Bucky finally didn’t have headphones in, so you decided it would be a good time to set some things straight before you literally went into battle with him.

Cautiously, you spoke up, “Look, I know we don’t necessarily see eye to eye but we really need to-“

He cut you off sharply “Once we touch down I’ll take the northeast side of the compound and you can take the south side. They apparently keep their lab in a big room on the south side, so you head that way and ransack the lab while I take down Haverford, who’s quarters are up in the north end. Got it?” Not even listening to what you had tried to say, Bucky simply started barking out a game plan at you.

“Sure, but I was saying that we-“

Bucky sighed dramatically, “Look Y/N, we just need to do our damn jobs and get this over with. Alright?”

“But Steve said-“

“I don’t care what Steve said.” He snapped, “I’m not here to make nice.”

And with that, you sat in silence again for the last few minutes of the flight. The quinjet landed in an open forrest area, roughly a 10 minute walk away from where Haverford’s compound was supposed to be. Of course, you couldn’t land right next to it without risking them hearing and giving yourselves away. So, you and Bucky began the short trek to the complex, once again in complete silence the whole way there.

Finally, you arrived upon a large monster of a building. It took up almost the entirety of the empty field that it occupied, with no windows around it whatsoever. To anyone else, it looked like from the outside to be just an eery abandoned building. You and Buck snuck around to the backside where a hatch door was used to get into the lower level of the building.

“When we’re done,” Bucky finally spoke for the first time in over 15 minutes “How about we meet up back here at this door, so that we can leave asap and not waste time trying to find each other in this fucking maze. Good?”

You swallowed, remembering the “plan” Bucky had laid out earlier on the jet. You really didn’t feel right about splitting up with him. The compound was massive and neither of you had ever navigated it before. Sure, Steve had shown you a basic floor plan of it and talked about where he believed they were making the serum, but that was it. You didn’t know your way around this territory, and you didn’t know what Haverford’s men were like. And on this mission, it was just you and Buck. You didn’t have the other avengers around to look out for you, or be your eyes and ears over the comms.

“Bucky, I don’t know if we should separate. This place is big.” You finally admitted.

“It’s nothing you can’t handle” He grumbled out, which should have sounded like a compliment but came out as more of something to shut you up and get on with it.

“But what if one of us gets injured or can’t find our way back to the door?” You asked, embarrassed to be admitting your nerves to him. Bucky could see for a moment that you were genuinely anxious about this.

“We have the comms in our ears,” He began in a slightly softer tone than he had ever spoken to you before, “If you need help, just talk to me. I’ll be in your ear the whole time”

You nodded, still a little worried but trying not to show it.

“Splitting up is the fastest way to do this. And the faster we get this done, the less time we have to spend together.” Ah, there was the Bucky you knew. Back to making jabs at you. That was the last you spoke before he broke the door open and you were in.

—————————

As discreetly as possible, you made your way through the compound, quietly trying to get to the south wing without being heard or seen. Steve said that they most likely were keeping their lab in the largest room in the building, which supposedly should be through the last door on the south side. As long as you could find it, get the records and evidence that you needed, and get back to the exit in time to meet Bucky, you’d be fine.

You could hear Bucky through the comms, sounds of grunting and punching obviously coming from him fighting Ian Haverford’s men that he had come into contact with.

“Looking for something princess?” You immediately stopped in your tracks at the sound of a deep sinister voice snarling at you. Whipping around, you saw one of Ian’s goonies standing just a few feet from you.

Instantly he charged at you, but it was nothing you hadn’t ever dealt with. Before he could grab you, you took hold of his arm and twisted it behind his back, affectively turning his entire body away from you. Then, using the Widow’s Bite armor that were around your wrists, you tased him in the neck, causing him to fall completely unconscious.

It was then that you realized you had made it to the end of the hallway, and thus the last door which was supposed to be their lab. Prepared for men to potentially be in there, you unholstered one of your firearms, and promptly kicked down the door.

To your shock, the room had no occupants. You quickly reached over to find a light switch, and what you saw next was infuriating. It indeed was Ian Haverford’s lab. Full of tables and stations that held different mixed drugs and chemicals that he was using to create his own super soldier serum, one that he then used on himself and his accomplices. You also saw a station that was entirely made up of a large desktop connected to multiple computers.

You started to make your way towards the computers so that you could plug in your hard-drive and collect the data that would supply the team with how Haverford had been making the serums. But before you could get there, a white, powdery substance started to sprits down from what looked like emergency sprinklers that were on the ceiling. The substance reeked like chemicals, similar to that of bleach but not as strong. You began to cough a little, trying to wipe the shit out of your face and eyes. You had no idea what the fuck it was or what it might possibly do to you.

“Bucky” you half coughed half called his name into the comms, “Bucky something happened”

“What?” He grunted out, clearly still in the middle of fighting someone.

“I just got sprayed with some kind of white powder stuff. I don’t know what it was. It must have been part of some kind of booby-trap that they had on the lab, since I kicked their door in, it went off.”

“Are you okay?” Bucky immediately asked, seeming genuinely worried.

“Yeah I mean, nothings happened yet, I’m still fine. But-“

“I’m a little busy Y/N, if you’re fine for now, just get the data from the lab and head out fast. I don’t have time to keep talking” he quickly rattled off to you, and you heard a loud scream coming from a guy that Bucky obviously just injured.

You swallowed, still very nervous about whatever the hell just happened to you, but you didn’t want to distract Bucky any further and potentially get him hurt, “Alright. On it.”

Plugging the hard-drive into the main desktop, you waited patiently as thousands of files started to download from Haverford’s database. As you stood there and waited, an annoying, high pitched ringing began to go off in your ears. At the same time, your vision slowly started to blur slightly, as if you were wearing the wrong prescription glasses. A lump formed in your throat and your heart practically dropped into your stomach, you hated to admit it, but this was deeply scaring you. You’d never been poisoned before.

You rubbed your eyes, hoping maybe it would help, but nothing happened, the blurriness just got worse. On top of that, your head started to pound, most likely due to the loud obnoxious ringing. It was the powder, you knew it had to be. What else would just suddenly start causing all this?

“Y/N? You still good?” You heard Bucky ask through the comms, clearly still preoccupied with something else but wanting to check on you.

You debated telling him about your symptoms. You were teammates, he should know. But on the other hand, It was just a few mostly mild symptoms, and the files were almost finished downloading anyway. You’d grab the hard-drive, run out of the compound and meet him in just a few minutes. You could make it until then. Plus, you didn’t wish to further annoy or distract him from fighting.

“Yeah. Still good!” You tried to sound as enthusiastic and convincing as possible. It must have worked, because he didn’t question you further.

Standing over the counter, still waiting for the files to be done, you leaned over the table a bit and made the idiotic decision to close your eyes for just a second, trying to relieve the headache.

A moment later, you felt a sharp, intense fiery pain in your abdomen as someone reached from behind you choking your neck and thrusting a knife into your stomach. You were paralyzed for just a second with fear, not even able to cry out. The ringing in your ears was so bad, you must not have heard anyone come in.

Trying to ignore the pain, you instinctively kicked your right leg back hard, hitting the man in the groin and causing him to fall to the ground. However, on his way down, he didn’t miss the chance to slash you in the calve with the knife he had been holding. The stab was so quick you could only gasp in pain. A gasp Bucky must not have heard as he was fighting his own battles.

Turning around, you fumbled for your firearm for a moment before finally getting it out and being able to pull the trigger, sending a bullet right through his chest. Stumbling backwards a bit, you started to feel lightheaded and you were reminded of the red hot pain in your stomach. You placed a hand over the side the feeling was coming from, and immediately felt a sticky hot liquid coat your fingers.

You didn’t have time however to investigate the stab wound, because as you glanced up, you could see through your blurry vision that 3 more men were walking in through the kicked down door.

Lazily raising your gun again, gripping the table to keep from toppling over, you aimed as best you could, with ringing ears, blurred vision and now two stab wounds. Thankfully, your training in the red room had taught you how to aim with even a blindfold on, and with a few quick shots, the men were taken down, now lying limply on the ground in front of you.

Bucky heard the gunshots through the comm, but since you never called his name or made a noise that would indicate you needed help, he assumed you had it under control.

You let the gun fall from your hand, now that you were alone and for now, out of danger, you were finally able to feel the extent of your injuries as the adrenaline wore off. Ever so slowly, you peered down at your stomach and saw that the hand you’d been holding there was almost entirely now coated in blood. Without meaning to, you fell to your knees, which then painfully reminded you of the other deep wound in your calve. However, you were so tired, and the loss of blood was making it hard to do anything other than focus on breathing.

You knew you needed to alert Bucky. You couldn’t just lie here and wait, you didn’t have that kind of time.

“Bu-Buck” you whimpered, trying to be loud enough that the comm would pick it up. But even just trying to talk was proving to be exhausting. You knew you were losing what was probably a lot of blood. Wet hot tears started to roll down your face, you were dangerously close to just giving in to the blood loss induced exhaustion and closing your eyes.

——————

Bucky, meanwhile, had finished taking down the men on the other half of the facility and was waiting for you outside at the spot you’d both agreed you would meet. He spoke over the comms, “I took down Haverford and his men. I’m out here now. Hurry up.” Short and to the point. How he always was with you.

Immediately, more tears welled in your eyes at hearing his voice. You were desperate, in pain, and exhausted. Despite having a deep distaste for Bucky, you knew you needed him. You needed him to come and find you. You didn’t have enough strength to speak, but luckily the sound of his voice finally brought your own voice back and you mustered up a deep, pathetic and painful whine from the back of your throat…and it was enough to be caught over your ear piece.

He stood there for a few minutes, getting antsy. Especially since he didn’t hear fighting noises over comms, he assumed you were just taking your sweet time making it back to him.

After a bit of waiting he sighed, grumbling “C’mon Y/N, what the fuck could you possibly-“

His complaining ceased as soon as he heard your one singular cry through the comm. Bucky’s eyes went wide, heart dropping into his stomach. He’d never heard a sound like that come out of you before.

“Y/N?” He called your name in an almost scared tone, “Are you okay?”

No response.

Bucky swore under his breath, “I’m coming, just hang on” he made that promise to you like it was an oath, and raced back inside the building.

Sprinting to the side of the compound that you were tasked with handling, Bucky searched frantically through the hallways, popping his head into every room trying to find you….until he did.

You laid there, blood seeping across your shirt and a pool of it surrounding your one injured leg. The men that you had disarmed and killed were sprawled out around you.

After his initial shock wore off, Bucky ran to you, kicking one of the dead arms dealers out of the way to get to you. He dropped to his knees, eyes scanning your wounds.

“Oh, Y/N” He whispered with guilt and sorrow dripping from his tone. A million emotions flashed across his face. Including anger at the men who had attacked you, but mostly at himself for allowing this to happen.

You looked up at him, meeting his eyes, and the tears finally flowed freely now. Aside from the pain, you were relieved. Despite you’re not getting along, in this moment you wanted nothing more than for Bucky to hold you, and tell you everything was going to be just fine.

“Okay” he whispered in a stunned tone, trying to calm both you and himself down. His hands hovered over your body as he took in your wounds and decided what he needed to do.

“Okay, alright.” That time, it came out more sure, “It’s alright, doll. Just keep breathing for me.” He tried to comfort you as he whipped out his phone and let Tony and the team know they needed medical there immediately.

Bucky then swallowed, giving you a remorseful look for what he was about to do.

“Okay sweetheart,” he began tenderly, as he took off the black jacket he had on, and then promptly ripped the sleeve of it off with his metal arm.

“I’m gonna have to tie this around your leg to stop the bleeding. It might hurt a bit, but I gotta do it” He gently explained what he needed to do, waiting to see a sign in your eyes that at least you understood. You gave him a very weak nod, and that was all he needed to then wrap the sleeve tightly around your upper calf.

He was right, it did hurt. But it wasn’t anything you hadn’t expected or weren’t prepared for. However, you believe Bucky only told you about having to wrap your leg, in order to half distract you from what he did next.

A blinding, nauseating pain quickly overcame you as he took the rest of the jacket he had, and with his metal arm and half his body weight, pressed it over your abdominal wound.

You immediately cried out and instinctively reached for Bucky’s arm, trying to push him away.

“Shhh, I know, I know baby” Bucky, who almost sounded pain-stricken himself with guilt, began to hush you, “I know it hurts, but I have to, I have to” He grabbed your hand that had tried to push him away, and let you squeeze the life out of his own as he continued applying pressure. His thumb softly grazed your knuckles, trying to soothe you.

While continuing to comfort you, Bucky began to look around as if he expected someone else to also come to your aid. It was then that he realized he’d need to get you out of the building in order to get you onto the quinjet. There was no way the medical team would be able to find their way around in here to get to you in time. And he could see that you’d already lost a lot of blood, and even with the tourniquet and pressure he applied, you were still losing some.

He took a breath, staring into your eyes with a serious yet remorseful look on his face, “Ok doll, I’m gonna have to pick you up and carry you out, but we can’t let up pressure on your wound” he explained, “So, I’m gonna need your help.”

Bucky then took the hand of yours that he was holding and gently guided it over to your abdomen. Lifting the jacket, he placed your hand over your own wound, you whimpered a little at the contact. Bucky swallowed, “I know doll, but I need you to put pressure on it like I was, okay? Can you do that for me?” He looked at you pleadingly, praying that you understood what he was saying.

Having to bite your own lip to keep from crying out again, you started to press down on your stomach with the little strength you still had. Bucky could tell you were trying by your obvious change in facial expression, “That’s it. Just like that, that’s my girl” he praised, quickly swiping one of your tears away. It wasn’t a lot of pressure, but it would do.

Ever so gently, trying to avoid hurting your injured leg, Bucky gracefully slipped his arms underneath you and scooped you up, holding you close to his chest. You moaned a little at the shift in movement, “Shhh, I got you doll. I got you” he whispered into your hair as you shoved your face in the crook of his neck.

He quickly made his way back out of the compound with you in his arms, thanking god when he saw the medevac quinjet was already out there waiting for you guys. Bucky tenderly laid you down on the stretcher, taking hold of your hand again as soon as he was able.

“She was poisoned with something and then stabbed in her lower left calve and left quadrant of her abdomen” He immediately started rambling off what had happened to the medical team and Dr. Cho.

“Poisoned with what?” Someone asked, he didn’t see who it was cause he wasn’t taking his eyes off of you.

“I- I don’t know.” Bucky admitted, “I think she said it was white and powdery, I can’t remember.” Internally, he was kicking himself so hard for not having immediately ran to you when you told him about the poison. He shouldn’t have just written you off and told you to deal with it. He shouldn’t have done a lot of things.

Bucky sat on the little bench in the quinjet right next you, still holding your hand, while the team got to work on your injuries. Technically, he should have been sitting at the front of the jet, out of their way, but no one was going to tell an upset Bucky Barnes what to do.

As they began working your leg, removing the tourniquet and getting a shot of lidocaine ready to numb the area, you saw them preparing the syringe out of the corner of your eye. You begin to hyperventilate, letting out a small whimper of fear. You hated all things medical, which stemmed from a deep rooted fear that dated back to your red room days. After years of being practically experimented on and shot up with god knows what, you didn’t particularly love the sight of needles. Even if you knew you were in a safe environment.

Bucky, who was still diligently sitting right beside you, immediately recognized your anxious reaction. He too knew that fear all too well. While he didn’t like to admit it, his time as the winter solider and being left at the hands of hydra often caused him to have visceral reactions to medical paraphernalia.

“Hey, hey” he softly called to you as he gently held your chin and brought your face to meet his, “It’s alright doll, you don’t have to look down there. Just look at me. Right at me.” He held your eyes, squeezing your hand a little tighter to let you know he was there. “That’s it. Just keep looking at me, Y/N. I’m right here” And that’s how you eventually went unconscious, staring into Bucky’s eyes as he quietly shushed you and ran his hand through your hair.

——————

The harsh lights of the medical wing practically blinded you as you tried to let your eyes slowly adjust to your surroundings.

“Hey hon” you heard a soft voice coming from your right side, whom you instantly recognized as Natasha.

“Well there she is” another voice, coming from your left who you thought was Steve, spoke up, sounding relieved at the fact you were awake. Your suspicions were proven correct when Steve leaned over slightly into your line of view.

“Welcome back, Y/N” he smiled, clearly exhausted but delighted by your opened eyes.

Your voice came out raspy and weak as you spoke for the first time, “H-how long have I been out?”

Natasha grabbed a cup from off your bedside table and offered you some water as Steve answered you,

“About three days. They had to get the bleeding under control and repair a portion of your stomach that was perforated. They also gave you some antibiotics to combat whatever the hell it was you were poisoned with,” he explained, “they seem to be working though. Doc says as soon as you’re strong enough, you can finish recuperating in your own room” He ended his spiel with a smile, but there was still one question he hadn’t answered that you were desperate for.

“W-Where’s Bucky?” You wondered why he wasn’t here, as you didn’t see him next to Steve or Nat.

“He’s right here, Y/N” Steve motioned to the back of the room where you couldn’t see, but Bucky was standing in the corner, eyes red and sunken in like he’d been crying. He immediately picked his head up when he heard you mention him.

“He hasn’t left this room in three days” Steve whispered to you in a hushed tone, hoping Bucky couldn’t hear him.

Nat cleared her throat, “We’re just gonna go get some coffee” she looked at Steve and jerked her head towards the door, beckoning him to follow her. They both left, leaving you and Bucky to yourselves.

Slowly, Buck made his way over to your bed, taking the seat that Steve was just in.

He was almost fearful of what to say, surprised that you had even asked for him in the first place. He blamed himself entirely for what happened, and was positive that when you woke up, you’d want nothing to do with him. And he wouldn’t blame you.

“Hey doll” he croaked out, voice sounding strained, “How’re you feeling?”

You swallowed, “My stomach hurts, and I have a headache” you admitted, still in a bit of pain from your wound healing.

Bucky nodded, “Do you want me to get the doctor? They might be able to give you more pain meds.” He asked, wanting to make sure you were as comfortable as possible. You didn’t know, but for the past three days Bucky had remained diligently at your bedside, alerting medical staff of any slight change in vital signs or if he thought you were cold and needed more blankets. He’d only left a few brief times when Steve had to force him to go eat or use the bathroom.

You shook your head, “no, no I’m okay. Promise” You offered him a slight smile.

Bucky stared down at his hands for a moment before he spoke up again, “Y/N, I am so so so sorry. This never would’ve happened if I had just listened to you and not had us split up.” He spoke with such guilt and shame you almost felt bad for him, “I was so focused on my own agenda and being a dick to you, that I completely ignored when you needed help. I can’t even-“

“Buck,” you interrupted him, reaching over and grabbing his hand with the little strength you had, “this isn’t your fault. It’s the fault of the men who stabbed me. That’s it. No one else’s” As much as you knew he fucked up with the way he treated you, you certainly didn’t think he should have to take responsibility for you getting hurt.

“But if I had come as soon as you said you were poisoned, if I had just listened to you instead of choosing to be an asshole, you probably wouldn’t be in this hospital bed” he insisted, eyes getting watery.

“Well, you were an asshole, I’ll give you that.” You smirked at him, trying to get him to relax, “but you also saved my life.” Bucky looked up at you, “You tied the tourniquet which kept me from losing more blood, and then made sure I didn’t have a panic attack on the quinjet. You might have fucked up a little Bucky, but you certainly made up for it” you gave his hand a little squeeze.

For the first time since you went under surgery, Bucky smiled, “All the same, I’m never separating from you during missions ever again.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, “that sounds a little suffocating, don’t you think?”

He shook his head, “Nope. Not to me. Nothings ever happening to you while you’re under my watch again”

“Well if that’s the case,” you scooted over a little in the bed, “will you keep me warm before I freeze to death in here?” You were genuinely very cold and were hoping for someone to bring you another blanket, but you supposed having Bucky there would do.

He chuckled softly, “you got it.” Lowering the hospital bed rail, Bucky climbed in and laid down next you, pulling you up close to him with his arm around your shoulders.

He placed a brief kiss along your hairline, “get some rest, doll. I’ll be right here.”

————-

Taglist: @patzammit @dpaccione @fdl305 @gh0stgurl

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes enemies to lovers #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #Bucky Barnes x red room reader #bucky barnes x avenger!reader

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awakenedevildays · 1 month ago

Text

「Roscoe」 Stiles Stilinski x F!reader

a/n: small thing I wrote to apologize for my absence, but the winter session is starting and it's stressing me out, hope you'll like it! not proofread.

━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━

"It feels wrong..."

"What do you mean?"

"It just… doesn't feel right doing this without her knowing, I feel like I'm cheating on her."

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her, it's okay..."

"It's still cheating… and if she finds out-"

"Stiles it's just a damn car. You can't keep on walking miles because you refuse to cheat on Roscoe!" You interrupt him frustrated.

"I'll have you know that I take offense to that. Roscoe is my car, my baby, my one and only!"

"Yeah… well, you left your one and only in Beacon Hills so either you get it here or buy another car and stop complaining that you have to wake up an hour earlier to go to work." You don't want to sound so annoyed, but you're pretty tired of hearing not only his waaay too loud alarm at 5 AM, but also his loud groans and sighs of annoyance as he slips out of the bed to get ready.

Stiles moves uncomfortably on the passenger's seat of the car he's thinking to buy and you lean down and rest your elbows on the lowered window next to him to see his cutely scrunched face better.

He continues to frown in annoyance, arms crossed over his chest. "This car is inferior to Roscoe, in every single way."

You roll your eyes. "How."

"It's too small, it smells funny, the color is awful, it doesn't have enough cup holders, the interior is wrong, it doesn't look as good, it doesn't even sound right! I bet the turning is all wrong, and don't get me started on the radio!"

"It's not small it's just not a jeep, you don't have to chose this color or this car even because there are many other models in here, the interior is not wrong but new and you didn't even start the car so how can you even say it doesn't sound right?"

"I-"

"And your jeep didn't even have a single cup holder or a radio, like- AT ALL, Stiles."

"That was a feature, not a flaw. It taught me resourcefulness!"

You sigh and stand back up with hands on your hips, you look down at Stiles, at his face molded into an expression of confusion and regret and you take a deep breath before walking around the car to sit beside him on the passengers seat, the door softly slams shut. Your head turn around to look at your boyfriend on the left, eyes down to look at his hands and pursued lips in thoughts. "… It's not about Roscoe… is it?" His shoulders sag at the released tension.

He leans back in the passenger's seat, avoiding your gaze as he speaks. "It's a stupid reason…"

"I'm sure it's not, tell me." You grab his right hand to bring it over your lap and rub it with your thumb.

"It's… It's the last connection I have to her. That was Mom's car, the last thing I have of hers. She wanted me to have it! If I sell it… then I don't have anything of hers anymore…"

"Stiles, why didn't you tell me? I would have never pushed you to buy another car if I knew you felt like this," it sounds like a soft scolding, the one you would use to scold a kid after he did something wrong.

He breathes out heavily, "I don't know. I didn't want to bother you… I know it's stupid. I shouldn't still be… grieving so much…" You feel tears prickling in your eyes "…But just thinking about letting it go makes me feel like I'm leaving her behind, leaving our memories of her behind. Getting a new car feels like I'm saying goodbye to Mom and I don't want to do it… again."

"It's not stupid Stiles, you have every right to grieve, it doesn't matter how many years have passed, she is your mom, there's not enough time in the whole universe to move on from this type of loss.." your voice trembles as you console him: of course it's not the first time he talks to you about Claudia, but your heart clenches painfully every time she's mentioned.

His eyes are clouded with sadness, like a storm is brewing in their depths. "I always feel like I should have had more time with her. More memories. I can't even remember her voice. I can't… remember her face. Not clearly… But thinking of Roscoe makes me feel close to her again" His voice is strained, struggling to hold back the tears.

You bring his hand to your lips as you both stay silent for a few minutes. "We could drive back to Beacon Hills and bring Roscoe here with us, we'll take her to the mechanic and fix her once and for all," you propose but Stiles shakes his head.

Stiles gives you a small, bittersweet smile. "I can't. There's only so much we can do to fix her." A sigh escapes him, looking down at his hands once more. "Besides, Beacon Hills is the Jeep's place, I'm sure my dad likes to have her there."

"'kay… what do you wanna do then?" You ask softly and he turns to look at you.

He considers your question for a moment, the creases on his forehead showing the effort he's putting to not admit he wants to use that car forever. "I guess I'll have to look into other cars. Maybe there's a car that won't feel wrong.

You nod, "...I'm so proud of you," it comes out as a trembling whisper, like it's a secret between you two.

Stiles' expression softens at your words, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. His grip on your hand tightens slightly, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your skin while his face leans in to kiss you.

As the kiss gently fades away, Stiles' forehead comes to rest against yours, his eyes closed and breath slow. "Thank you." His voice is quiet, nearly a whisper, heavy with emotion, "Thank you for putting up with me when I'm like this."

You want to tell him that there is no such thing as 'putting up with him' for you, that you wouldn't trade these moments between you two for the world, but you know that if you mutter even one more word you'll start to cry, so you only shake your head... and Stiles senses them, your unspoken words. His free hand moves to rest on the back of your neck, gently rubbing your neck with his thumb. His forehead stays pressed against yours, unwilling to let the connection dissipate just yet.

After a few more minutes of you sitting together in silence, simply leaning against each other, Stiles quietly speaks again, his voice soft and weary. "Can we just go home?"

"Yeah, you don't have to chose it today."

He nods silently, his mind still clouded with thoughts. Finally, he lets out a sigh, sitting up again and looking around. "Let's go, then." As he looks down at your intertwined hands resting on your lap, a small, tired smile graces his lips.

━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━

Do not copy or repost.

#madsstiles💌#stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski x you #stiles stilinski drabble #stiles x reader #stiles stilinski #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf x you #teen wolf x y/n #teen wolf

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mtfstuff · 2 years ago

Text

The desired role

I never thought my life could change this drastically. Let me tell you that I once was a strong and fair cop but I lost all of that quickly without fully realizing what I did. It all started a few months ago on this fateful afternoon.

On that day I was on my patrol, driving around in my police cruiser looking for potential trouble as usual.

I had gotten a call from a young woman that it seems like a young man is selling himself for sex to other men in a more remote area of the town. I was driving around there to see if I could spit him and I could after a fee minutes of searching. I carefully parked the cruiser and tried to sneak up on them. They were in the back of an alley. I could see the young man wearing skin tight latex from neck to toes. He was getting fucked by an older man with a beer gut while another man demanded the young man to suck his dick. I came closer but one of the older man noticed me and started to run. I quickly started to run towards them, shouting at them to stand still. The second man pushed the young man towards me and started to run away too.

I catched the young man and could only watch as the two old men ran through a backdoor and closed it. I handcuffed the young man and then walked up to the backdoor, trying to pry it open but to no avail. The thick metal door didnt move a bit. I got back to the young man and looked at him thoroughly. His body from neck to toes was covered in latex, even his hands. The only places free of latex was his crotch area and a hole around his butt. His dick was locked away in a chastity cage. He seemed intimidated by me as he didnt even reach my shoulders.

"Are you even old enough to sell yourself in this 'business'?", I asked him starting to walk him towards the cruiser.

"Is this regarding my size? Yeah I know I look young with my 5' but I can assure you that I'm 26 years old.", he answered cowardly.

"Do you have any ID to back up that claim?"

"No. I lost everything around 4 months ago."

I pushed him into the backseat.

I got into the car on the drivers seat.

"Whats your name?", I asked opening the criminal justice information system.

"Jordan Blight.", he said. I could hear him starting to sob.

I entered his name into the computer and found multiple things about him. It started with him disappearing, followed by multiple offensive crimes.

I exhaled deeply. By the looks of it this guy would now go to prison even though I knew that from the way he looked he wouldnt survive a week there.

Jordan must've had a similar thought as he started crying.

"Please... I'll do anything. I just cant go to prison. Please!", he cried.

"Sorry man, but I cant help you.", I answered looking at him through the rearview mirror.

"Please...", he continued crying. "I'll do anything... do you need sexual relief? I'm supposedly good at it. Do you need someone to talk to? I'm a good listener."

I stayed silent. I felt somewhat pitty for him and his situation.

"Do you need someone to get drugs? I know some who have them.", he continued.

I looked at him concerned.

"Or do you want me as an insider? Or should I be your slave?"

I subconsciously moved an eyebrow and unfortunatly Jordan noticed it.

"What was it? The insider or the slave?", he asked with a grin.

I cleared my throat.

"How did you get in your situation? I mean I wouldnt choose to walk around in a latex suit covering everything but my head, dick and ass.", I asked.

"Changing the subject, I see.", he snickered. "I was drugged by some I considered friends. They stripped me, put me in this latex suit and cock cage. They also made sure that I dont get out by welding the zipper fully into the suit. They then brought me here, into a city I dont know to make me a sex slave. And they succeeded. I got addicted to sex and drugs over the last few months. It feels like I know more about the taste of dicks and cum than real food. It feels like I dont even remember how it feels to wear something else than latex."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I - I dont even know what to say.", I said.

"Say if it was the slave or the insider.", he laughed.

"Neither. Just a weird thought I sometimes have."

"Tell me about it."

I felt torn. He had the right appearance for my weird wish but he was just a stranger, even more a stranger I've just arrested. But I still had this feeling that I could tell him.

"Since I was in pre-school I was the tallest guy and even without working out I was pretty muscular.", I said. "And I dont know why as my family isnt tall at all. Since then I started to get this wish, to feel small. Even get somewhat humiliated."

It was a weird silence.

"I didnt see that coming.", Jordan said. "You, this hunk of a good looking man, wants to be humiliated. You want to be in my position?"

"Yeah, I do.", I said. "I just want to know how it feels."

"Well, I'd do anything to not go to prison but I dont know how much I could humiliate you."

He chuckled.

"I mean I'm 5' and you're like 6'3.", he added.

"6'5 to be precise.", I said. "I could have something that would change this situation. Only if you're down for it."

"I'd be doing it if it means that I wont go to prison, so yeah. Tell me, what is it you have."

I moved around in my seat, fearing his reaction to what I would tell him.

"I have a body swap item with me.", I told him.

He bursted out into laughs. It was almost contagious. Almost.

He slowly caught himself again.

"You cant be serious!", he looked at me. "Oh shit, you're serious."

"I dont know if it works but it could be your way out of prison if you do it with me for a short time. Its said to be reversible so we'd swap back after that session of ours.", I said.

He thought about it for a moment.

"Sure, why not. I always wondered how it felt to have a body as incredible as yours."

"Then its a deal.", I started the engine and drove us to an even more remote area of the city.

When we arrived I turned off the cruiser and got out. I opened the trunk of the cruiser and took a strange needle out of it. I closed it and opened Jordan's door. I pulled him out and pushed him into an abandoned alleyway.

I unlocked his handcuffs and he rubbed his wrists.

"So how does this work?", Jordan asked.

"We have to prick a finger each with this.", I held the needle in front of him. "Then the pricked tips have to touch and then we swap or transform into each other. That wasnt fully clear."

"Then lets do it.", he answered.

I took one of his fingers and pricked the tip. He let out a slight gasp. Then I pricked my finger and held it up. He pressed his finger against mine and I immediately felt a weird sensation, as if a force was pulling my whole body from my finger.

Jordan musst have felt it himself as he pulled his hand away. I looked at him and noticed that he started to grow, not just in height but also in terms of muscles. His latex suit got pulled thinner and thinner before it finally ripped in multiple places. The scraps of latex fell to the ground, revealing Jordans new muscular body that was still growing. I could immediately see that his muscles looked like mine. Jordan marveled at his new body, already smelling his armpits or feeling his abs. I looked down at his dick to see if it was growing too and it did. It was already straining against the cage before the cage sprung open and fell to the ground. Jordan's dick was the spitting image of mine and it was rock hard.

Jordan was almost the same height as me now and only his face looked different. A beard stubble was starting to grow on his cheeks as his bone structure started to morph into mine. His hair grew shorter and his eye color changed. It took only a few seconds and it was as if I was looking into a mirror. A naked mirror.

"This is incredible!", Jordan said feeling his biceps. "We could be twins right now! But shouldnt you look like me?"

"Yeah, I thought I would transform too but until now I only have this strange feeling.", right then the feeling changed and I started to shrink. While shrinking my uniform felt heavier and the gun holster looser every second and suddenly my pants, including my boxers, fell to the ground. My jacket and vest were huge on me, my hands didnt even stick out of the sleeve anymore and my dick was hidden behind the vest but I could feel how hard it was. It was almost painful.

I looked at Jordan and he had a huge grin on his face.

"Your manly face on my body wearing a uniform thats to big for you is just a funny sight to behold.", he said not letting go of his new muscles.

I started to feel my face change. The receding beard as well as the quickly growing hair tickled. With a faint plop I could hear my bones change and then the feeling vanished.

"Looks like I'm the officer now.", Jordan said.

He grabbed me by the throat and lifted me up. I could feel my socks and boots slip off my feet before I felt the cold ground beneath my butt. Jordan had dropped me.

"Man this strength is crazy!", he exclaimed.

I coughed a few times, trying to get my throat to feel normal again.

Jordan grabbed my arms and quickly pulled the rest of the uniform off of my body. I was now sitting on the cold floor completely naked.

Jordan dropped the vest, jacket and undershirt. I could hear him breathing heavily.

"I havent worn real clothes for months.", I could hear him say to himself.

He picked up my boxers from my pants and looked at them in his hands. He quickly smelled them and let out a quiet moan before carefully slipping his legs through them. He pulled them up to his hips and took his time to position his new big dick in a comfortable place.

It looked like Jordan quickly forgot about me because of the uniform.

He continued by pulling my socks out of my boots before pulling them over his feet and muscular calves. He wiggled his toes and giggled.

He grabbed the undershirt and pulled it over his broad chest. I marveled at how great it fit him. I now saw that I truly knew how to show off my body.

He removed the gun holster from the belt before stepping into the pants. He closed the belt and added the holster back.

He grabbed the jacket and quickly put it on before adding the vest onto his torso.

The last thing left were the boots. He seemed to almost celebrate this. He grabbed them and slowly unlaced them. He relished stepping into them, I could see it. He tied them again and took a few steps.

"This feels so good. Wearing real clothes, a uniform even. And then wearing shoes again. No more barefoot in latex.", he said.

Standing before me really was the spitting image of me, officer Stephen Benson. An officer with a bright future, thinking about how he could do anything as me now made my dick even harder.

"What are you going to do with me, officer?", I asked trying to get his attention.

He helped me up before pushing me face first against the wall.

"You can be more than lucky I got my uniform back. Impersonating an officer is a serious crime!", he said.

I felt him rubbing his crotch against my back.

"That was all just a big misunderstanding sir!", I answered.

I suddenly felt how he put the handcuffs around my wrists on my back.

"Misunderstanding or not, you're going to jail.", he said.

I got nervous, was he just roleplaying or taking over my life. I wanted to be submissive but I didnt want to go to jail. The thought of him taking over made me even harder. My dick was pressing so hard against the dirty brick wall.

"You're lucky as I'm in need of sexual relief.", he turned me around to face him. "And you may not go to jail if you go down and do a thing for me."

Jordan had a devilish grin on my old face. I went down and he immediately pushed my face into my old crotch. I could smell the fabric as well as the stench of my old sweat. But most of all I could feel the outline of the beast inside the pants that was once mine.

He continued pressing my face into his crotch.

"Worship me. Worship my muscles and uniform!", he said.

I couldnt answer because my face was pushed so hard against his crotch but I managed to move my hands behind my back to get his attention there.

He bent himself over me to unlock one side of the handcuffs again.

I immediately moved my hands to his firm butt and squeezed it. My hands slowly ran down his legs, feeling the muscles beneath the fabric every time he flexed his legs. I knew that it should be wrong, worshipping your real body but it just felt so good.

My hands went down further, now slightly massaging his calves before I ran my hands over my combat boots he now wore. Touching the leather felt surprisingly good so I kept working on his feet. That combined with inhaling the musk of my old crotch and uniform felt intoxicating.

"Take it out and suck it!", I heard Jordan order with my old deep voice.

It sent chills down my spine knowing that I sounded like that before but now I wasnt in control of it or any other part of that body.

I opened the belt and pants and pulled out his dick. It was more than massive from my point of view and it was already throbbing and leaking pre-cum.

I opened my mouth and Jordan saw that as his opportunity to push the full 8 inches down my throat. I thought that I would have to throw up but this body had like no gag reflex anymore. I continued sucking on my old dick while Jordan controlled my speed by having his hands behind my head.

It felt weird and at first I didnt knew what to do but it only took a few seconds before the muscle memory kicked in and I started sucking like a pro. I could feel the veins pulsate in sync with Jordan's heartbeat. I used my tongue to play with it and I heard Jordan moan every now and then.

He suddenly grabbed my head more tightly before I felt his dick erupting in my mouth. I immediately started to swallow and tasted cum for the first time. The salty but still somewhat sweet taste was weird at first but it felt more normal with every string Jordan shot into my mouth.

"Dont spill.", he said panting.

I swallowed everything before he pulled me to my feet again. He turned me around again and I could immediately feel him running his dick along my ass. He pushed it in without warning but it didnt hurt at all.

"Damn, my hole was loose.", Jordan said. "I have more to give to you."

He pounded me hard but it still turned me on more. Knowing that the roles would be reversed in reality. I should be the muscular officer and Jordan should be this twink but right now I was living my phantasy.

His thrusts changed pace and I could feel how he prepared to unleash another load into me. He pushed me tight against the wall, his hands on my hips as I felt him shooting his warm and slimy masculine seed up my ass.

He pulled out and I felt him wiping off his dick on my butt cheeks.

I was covered in sweat but it felt great to have been used like this and I bet Jordan loved being a muscular officer too.

I was awaiting that he would unlock the handcuffs again so that we could swap back but he suddenly grabbed me with full force by my neck and threw me to the ground.

"You let something drip out of your ass!", he said firmly pointing at his feet. "Go on and clean my awesome combat boots."

I got on my knees and licked the cum off of my old boot. It tasted just like before, only that it had now dirt mixed into it. I was almost done licking as I felt a few finger intrude my butt. Jordan pulled them out again and tasted it.

"Damn man, this body tastes good.", he said.

Suddenly we both looked intensely at each other knowing exactly what caused it. It felt like a damn broke in our minds. My mind got flooded with the memories of Jordan and he probably got access to my memories.

"This- this changes everything!", he said.

He pulled me up.

I cleared my throat to sound manlier.

"Are you ready to change back? There are spare clothes in the trunk of the cruiser you can wear after that.", I said.

"No man.", he said.

"What do you mean, no?"

He pushed me against the wall again.

"You wanted to be me. You wanted to be humiliated and I agreed to escape prison.", he flashed me a quick smile. "But I'm the man now. I have the muscles. I wear the uniform. We'll do this my way now."

"But- but you cant just be a cop and do my job. I cant stay like this."

"You enjoyed being like this."

He gestured to my small, hard and slightly leaking dick.

"And I more than enjoyed being you.", he continued. "You have two options now, 'Jordan'. Keep complaining about swapping back and I'll send you to prison. Or get into the car and be me."

I stared at him in shock.

"It's Thursday, right?", he asked.

"Yes."

"Then lets make a deal. We stay like this till Sunday. If you then still want to swap back we'll do it. If you want us to stay like this we'll stay."

"Deal!"

He grabbed my balls tightly and I let out a loud, uncontrolled moan. He laughed.

"Good. I still have to be on my patrol for 2 more hours. So I'll leave you here. You wanted to be humiliated so you have to make a choice. Stay here until I come back to get you or look around searching for clothes. But if you do, time is running. I wont wait here for you when I'm finshed.", he said.

He laughed again and walked to the cruiser. He stepped into the driver seat, started the engine and left.

Only then I noticed that Jordan managed to place his old chastity cage on my dick.

I didnt fully understand how it got this far but I felt good. The humiliation was everything I always wanted but I still felt the urge to get my body back. I was excited to see what the last few days would bring.

#body switch #male body switch #body swap #male body swap #male body transformation #male transformation

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candylix · 8 months ago

Text

plus one and a half | lee felix & han jisung

Pairing • BF!Felix x Fem!Reader x Jisung

Summary • A friends wedding is coming up, and Jisung asks you and Felix if you're bringing any plus ones. You are actually— each other. Because you're dating now. You'd think Jisung would congratulate you, or say something positive, but instead he laughs and doesn't believe it. Whatever it takes, you're going to make him accept that you're telling the truth.

Genre • smut, reverse fake dating au where you are actually dating but no one believes you

WC • 3k

Content • making out, dry humping, unprotected sex, piv penetration, threesome, clit stimulation, overstimulation, masturbation, groping, rough sex, felix is a bit inexperienced but jisung helps him out

"Did you guys bring any dates?" Jisung asks. He leans forward in his recliner, curious as to what you and Felix would say. You both sat on the couch, the warm lighting of the living room painting a cozy atmosphere in the cottage you were staying at.

You, Felix, and Jisung had been invited to a friends wedding. You came a week early, split an Airbnb, and treated it like a vacation. The location they picked was so beautiful, it would be a shame to only be there for a day or two.

Of course, you were allowed to bring a plus one to the wedding, but you all had been single for so long that the idea of having a date for the wedding was laughable.

At least it was, until very recently.

You and Felix look at each other, knowing glances adorned on your faces. You had only been dating for a month, and you've kept quiet about it in case things didn't work out. If you decided this wasn't right for you, you could go back to being friends without the hassle of having to tell anyone about it.

However, things have been going better than expected, and even though it's only been a month, you can see how well you two fit together. He's already better than your last partner.

"Actually," Felix starts, and looks to you for confirmation. You nod, and he continues. "We're going together." He gestures at the two of you.

"Well you're going with me too," Jisung says, "but I meant, like, a romantic date."

"It is a romantic date. We're dating," you say. This is the first time you've told anyone about this, and you feel butterflies in your stomach.

Jisung takes a pause to look at you, then to Felix, then back at you.

He releases a full belly laugh.

"You? And Felix? Together?" Jisung says. He thought it was completely absurd.

"What's so funny about that?" you ask. You had no idea he'd react like this.

"Come on. I know the guys you've dated. You go for like... cool, detached guys. Guys that wear biker jackets and ride motorcycles and don't know how to talk about their feelings. Not soft guys like Felix," Jisung says, "no offense."

"I don't know what to tell you, Jisung. We've been dating for a month now," Felix says.

"You know, you can just tell me you're embarrassed to go to the wedding without dates. I get it."

You cross your arms. It's true that Felix is different from who you normally date, but is it so hard to believe?

"Jisung, come on," you say.

"If you want to convince people you're not alone, I could go with you instead," Jisung says, winking at you.

"Uh... I'll just go with my boyfriend."

Felix's head snaps to look at you. You've never used that word with him, and the surprise is visible on his face.

"See, even Felix is surprised to be your boyfriend," Jisung teases.

"No, it's just.." Felix starts, "I didn't know we were there yet." A smile builds on his face, and you could just melt at the way he looks at you. "I like it."

He leans in for a quick kiss, a small celebration of the change in your relationship status.

"You're gonna have to better than that," Jisung says.

Felix's eyebrows furrow in frustration.

"What, do you want us to make out?"

"If you're trying to sell it, then really sell it. Otherwise no one is gonna buy it."

You sigh, and crawl onto Felix's lap, straddling him on the couch. His eyes widen in surprise, not expecting the sudden boldness. It's not unwelcome though, and he finds himself a little turned on.

"Jisung's being annoying, so let's just do it."

"O-okay."

This relationship is still new to you, so you don't know everything he likes yet, but you hope this will at least convince Jisung.

You cup Felix's cheeks and lean in, pressing your lips against his. He smiles into the kiss, and his fingers thread your hair. You part your mouth when you feel his tongue asking for entrance, quiet moans passing between your lips as he explores.

His hands travel down your back, lowering to your hips and pulling you towards him. You feel something rub against your core, and absentmindedly rock against it. He deepens the kiss, tongues melding together while he presses his body further into you.

You can feel his bulge getting harder as you grind into him. He groans at the feeling, and his hands reach under your shirt and up your back. You start to unbutton his shirt, getting halfway down before Jisung interrupts you.

You completely forgot he was watching.

"Great performance guys, maybe some people will believe you after all." He claps slowly at your demonstration, and you peel yourself off of Felix's face. You can't believe you were dry humping your boyfriend in front of him, and he still didn't believe you.

"I don't think anything is going to convince him at this point," Felix says. He leans into your ear. "Do you want to finish this is private?" he whispers, and you feel your core throb. You nod your head, and he stands up, lifting you up with him. You lock your legs around his waist while he holds your ass, and carries you to his room.

"Where are you guys going?" Jisung asks, standing to follow Felix, but the door is shut before he even gets a chance to take a step.

Felix drops you onto the edge of his bed, wasting no time to pull off your shirt and unclasp your bra. He unbuttons the rest of his own shirt, revealing the faint outline of his abs. Your fingers trace them, moving down his stomach and over his bulge, and he whimpers under your touch. He grasps your jaw, leaning down to kiss you while you stroke him through his pants. It doesn't take long before he pulls them down, and you help him rip off his boxers. His cock practically jumps out, already leaking from excitement.

"God, I just want to be inside you already."

He spreads your legs open for him, and he sees how wet you already are from grinding against him.

He wastes no time stretching open your entrance enough to fit himself in. You feel his dick push into your walls, hungry to feel you around him.

Inch by inch, he buries his cock into you, until he's completely bottomed you out. He pulls out slowly, and thrusts back in to hit a sensitive spot. He rocks into you at a steady pace, savoring the feeling of how tight you are around his dick.

Suddenly, the door opens, and Jisung sees exactly what you're doing. Felix freezes mid thrust, cock throbbing desperately in your pussy.

"So what-" he starts, but completely forgets what he's about to say. He doesn't know what's more shocking— the fact that you actually were together, or that you started fucking 3 seconds after leaving him alone in the living room.

He could leave, in fact he knows he should leave, but... it would be funnier to pretend he still doesn't believe them. That's definitely the reason why he stays, and not because his dick is getting hard and it's clouding his judgement.

"Wow, you guys really are committed to this bit."

"Oh my god, Jisung, go away" Felix says, grabbing the blanket to cover you both.

"Aw, come on. If you're going to fake a relationship, at least make it believable."

Jisung moves closer, ignoring the wide eyed look you both give him, and he snatches the blanket from Felix's hand to uncover you. You are both completely naked in front of him, caught in the act, but he doesn't seem to give it a second thought.

"Jisung, what are you-" you start, but he cuts you off when his finger goes to your clit, rubbing circles around it.

"See, you gotta do this if you want it to look real," he says. You twitch when he grazes over a sensitive spot, and he rubs into it with more pressure. You body acts on its own, humping into his hand, and Jisung smirks at how you react to his touches. He then lightly pushes Felix forward, and his dick plunges deeper into you. "Now keep thrusting."

Felix doesn't know why he listens, but he does as he's told. His thrusts start back up slowly, and when you open your mouth to complain about Jisung, a moan escapes instead.

"I-I think I've got it from here," Felix says, but Jisung shakes his head.

"There's so much more you could be doing to pleasure her. Like this," he says, and grabs one of your breasts. He squeezes your chest, palm rubbing over your nipple until it's erect, and then pinches it.

"Jisung!" you say in shock, but it comes out less like surprise and more like you're moaning his name. You feel Felix's cock twitch inside of you. He grabs your other breast, not wanting to be shown up by Jisung, and massages it. With both of them groping you, Jisung's finger rubbing your clit, and Felix pumping his cock in and out, you can barely think straight. Your head leans back in pure pleasure, and you can feel your orgasm quickly approaching.

"See, there you go. Look how happy she is."

Jisung watches you frantically buck against Felix, hoping to get every last inch of him inside you. Felix pumps into you faster, hitting your g-spot more forcefully, and you moan his name in a string of words that become incomprehensible the more they touch your body. Jisung doesn't let up either, and his fingers trace deeper circles around your clit. You grab Felix and pull his body closer, and his cock slams into you

"Fuck, I'm cumming," you're barely able to say, before a gush of liquid drenches Felix's cock. You fall onto the bed in exhaustion, but they don't stop. Jisung's touches on your clit and breast become softer as you ride out your high, but Felix pushes in harder and rougher. He can feel his own climax coming, and he groans as he fucks your twitching body. You're extremely sensitive, and his thrusts give you no time to recover.

A loud moan escapes Felix's lips, and his cum shoots inside you, hot white fluid coating your walls. His pace slows down, and you're finally able to catch your breath. His legs tremble as he pulls out, and he has to sit on the bed next to you.

"Not gonna lie, that made me really horny," Jisung says, and when you lift your head to look at him, you see his massive erection bulging in his pants. "Do you mind if I fuck you too?"

"Bro," Felix says, still panting as he looks up at Jisung, "I'm not gonna let you fuck my girlfriend."

"Girlfriend? Whatever could you mean?" he asks, words exaggerated for dramatic effect. He's not even trying to hide the fact that he knows you're together anymore.

"Jisung, get out!" you yell, throwing a pillow at him.

"Ok, ok!" he says, and finally leaves the room. He would have to take care of the throbbing in his pants on his own, but at least he got to have some fun before he was kicked out.

Felix collapses on the bed beside you, tired from both the sex and dealing with Jisung. He looks at you, and you both crack a smile, laughing at the insane thing that just happened.

"Well... I have to admit. He knew what he was doing," Felix says.

"We should invite him again."

Felix pauses, and remembers how you reacted to his touches, moaned his name, shook under him, all because Jisung started 'helping'...

"Do you want me to call him back?"

"I mean... if you're ok with it."

He sighs, and kisses you on the forehead.

"He's already helped you orgasm once, one more isn't going to hurt my pride."

Felix pushes himself off the bed, not bothering to put his clothes back on, and leaves the room to find his friend. He doesn't see Jisung in the living room, so he's either jerking off in his room or in the bathroom.

He can hear quiet groans coming from further in the house, coming from Jisung's bedroom, and he pushes the door open. As he expected, Jisung is in there, pants down with his dick in his hand.

"Jisung," Felix says, startling the other man.

"What are you doing!?" Jisung yells, quickly pulling his pants back up to hide himself.

"Oh come on, don't act all embarrassed now."

"Can't a guy crank it out in peace? Why are you here?"

"Oh, right," Felix says, and remembers what he came here for. "Well... if you want to have sex with a real human being, you can come back to our room. But if you prefer your hand-"

"Say no more!" Jisung says, and his pants are back off before Felix can even blink. Jisung runs past him, his hard cock bouncing with every step, and rushes to come find you.

He barrels into the room, Felix a few paces behind him, and eyes your body sitting on the edge of the bed. You look delicious there, waiting for him to stuff his dick inside you.

He walks over to the bed, and stands in between your legs. His dick throbs in front of your core, but he makes no attempt to put it in. He rests his hands on your thighs.

"Are you sure you want this?" he asks.

You look down to his cock, eyes widening at what you see. He's extremely hard, so you see exactly how thick he is.

"Yes, absolutely," you say, and he smiles.

You hear Felix clear his throat, and see him standing in the doorway.

"This is just a one time thing, ok?"

"Yeah, yeah," Jisung says, shrugging his shoulders, "now get over here and help me fuck your girlfriend."

Felix quickly makes his way over to the bed, and Jisung gestures for him to sit behind you. He climbs up, and you feel his body press against your back.

His hands immediately go to your chest, and you lean back into him as he messages them. You feel his lips on your skin, a light trail of kisses left from your ear, down your jaw, and to your neck, sucking on the flesh. You tilt your head to the side, and he takes advantage of it, nipping and licking at the exposed skin. He pulls on your nipples, and you can't help the gasp that escapes you.

Jisung watches this, enjoying the show in front of him. He watches as Felix plays with your breasts, loving the way you groan under your boyfriends touches, and he almost forgets what he's here to do. He wanted to just ram his dick inside you and finally ease its frenzied throbbing, but he's here to pleasure you first and foremost.

His fingers once again find purchase on your clit, rubbing the spot he knows makes you twitch. He could almost cum just watching you writhe under him.

"This feel good?" he asks, smirking at the way you nod frantically. Of course it did, he knows exactly what he's doing.

He loves when you buck against his hand, hoping to get every last bit of friction from him as he traces rough circles around your needy cunt.

"This is going to feel even better."

He especially loves the loud moan you let out when you feel his dick stretch out your tight hole. Inch by inch, he shoves his massive cock inside you, groaning at the pressure of your walls as he fills you up.

With every push, you feel his dick press against you, too large to fit but forcing it deeper anyway, until he finally manages it all in.

"Oh my god, you're so tight," he says, voice coming out hoarse. He can't believe he gets to feel this, to feel you. His mind is clouded by lust; he just wants to fuck you like a toy, fuck you so hard you're left limp under him.

His thrusts are fast and desperate, too horny to ease you into his girth. He grabs your hips, pulling you into his cock deeper, and sounds of your wet pussy being rammed are only drowned out by your loud moans at every thrust.

Felix matches his pace, sucking down harder on your neck, and pulling harder at your breasts. Your entire body shakes from the impact of his dick pounding into you, and you can feel your orgasm coming fast from the overwhelming sensations. You don't have time to speak, their only warning of your climax coming from a loud moan as you clench around Jisung's cock, and you drench him in your cum.

"Oh, fuck," he groans, and he spasms inside you. His climax overtakes him, and he ruts harder into you as his cum fills whatever remaining space is left. He rides out his high, slowing down until he can barely stand.

Felix holds you close as you catch your breath, his arms wrap around you and his chin rests on your shoulder.

"How was that, baby? You alright?"

"Y-yes," you say, weakly, barely managing to make a sound.

"Good." He kisses your cheek, and runs his fingers through your hair. "If you're happy, I'm happy."

Jisung slumps on the bed face down. For once, he's too tired to make a joke. Too tired to stay awake even, and you hear soft snoring coming out from him.

A small laugh escapes from Felix, looking at the state Jisung's in. He turns back to you, and kisses you one more time.

"I'm gonna go get something to clean you up, ok?"

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demonsword586 · 9 months ago

Text

Beelzebub Attacker part 1

Whew! This took a little longer than I expected. Then again,the first parts are always a bit longer. The next part is coming in a few days!

(Pg: Abyssos streets)

The crowded streets of Abyssos at night.

Nicknamed the Country of Pleasure,the nights were brighter than the days.

And there,you...

Sniff Sniff

Beelzebub: Ha....Smells nice...

You were walking down that busy,tumultous street with Beelzebub,a handsome man who smelled your hair and was openly horny.

Mc: Ah! Don't smell me there...

Beelzebub: Why not? It smells delicious-

Embarrassed,you tried to push Beelzebub away,but it was impossible because he had his arm around your shoulders,half-leaning on you.

The streets of Abyssos's entertainment district where even more devils come and became crowded as the sun set,

And you had no choice but to walk closer to Beelzebub to avoid being run over by other devils.

The devils grew in number,the neon lights of the night were blindly bright,and Beelzebub bamboozled you most of all.

His flushed face,his soft voice and his guidence.

Beelzebub: Welcome to the night of Abyssos,the city of drugs,gambling and pleasure.

Beelzebub: Abyssos is a country where everything is legal. Oh! Except stealing other's lovers.

Beelzebub: I wanted to introduce you to the back alleys of our proud Abyssos. For the pride of Abyssos is not in the palace but in the back streets.

Beelzebub: Everywhere in Gehenna is like a back alley,but no offense,it's nostalgic. Keke~

Beelzebub said many things as though he was excited. You had never seen Beelzebub in such high spirits before.

Beelzebub: Oh! I wanted to go to that store with you.

He raised his finger,pointing at the sign far away.

{White Lovers}

Beelzebub: That restaurant is famous for making it's sauce with the semen of the healthiest,best-batured male devils in Abyssos.

Beelzebub: It's such that you would dance at the healthy taste once you try it.

Mc: (What the....It's strange but I'm curious.)

Leaning on you to the point it made you staggger,Beelzebub spoke joyfully with his arm around your waist.

Then,he pointed at the sign on the next store with his finger and continued.

{Forest of mushrooms}

Beelzebub: The shop next door is a cafe rhat distills the saliva of the most handsome men in Abyssos to make a variety of drinks.

Beelzebub: It's been around for 800 years,so there's a lot of tradition and a lot of pride.

Beelzebub: At the end of the day,they collect saliva and put it in Baba Yaga's cauldron to distill overnight,then make a drink from it in the morning to sell.

Beelzebub: There's only a certain amount of spit you can collect per night,so there's a limited amount they can sell,and I've only tried it a few times.

Mc: (So weird,but I want to try it!)

Afterward,Beelzebub entertained you by showing you around as if he were taking you on a trip.

Of course,you were most excited and happy to walk through a main street with an extraordinarily handsome man-

Mc: (Ugh...Satan will be angry)

That was right. You were at the royal tower of Gehenna a few minutes ago.

(Pg changes to Gehenna halls)

While enjoying a cup of tea with Ppyong and Sitri,Sitri's tea was too strong and caused Ppyong to go into caffeine shock. So the two momentarily left you for a while.

Beelzebub: Shall we get moving?

Mc: Beelzebub?!

Beelzebub appeared from behind your back,slipped his hand behind your knee to scooped you up in a princess hug,and flew out through the window.

(Pg changes back to Abyssos streets)

As a result,here you were.

You werw casually enjoying your date with Beelzebub,as if you'd arrange it days before.

Mc: (Wait,why was he in Gehenna? I mean,since when was he nearby?! And how did we arrive in Abyssos so quickly?!)

You were full of questions,but you were too hectic. And whats more...

Mc: (It feels like Beelzebub can disappear anytime soon,so I don't want to waste time talking about trivial things)

Even if it was Beelzebub's strategy to make you think that, you were willing to be fooled.

Mc: (Because Beelzebub is so cool that I don't want to waste a single second even when he's right next to me...)

You furtively raised your head to look up at Beelzebub's side profile as he joyfully looked around his surroundings.

The man who was leaning against you so casually,that you almost felt regretful,was looking around with a faint smile of longing and affection in his eyes.

Mc: Come to think of it....the surrounding devils are quiet. I thought they would cause a fuss again with Beelzebub being here.

Mc: Don't tell me that you caused a spell or something?

Beelzebub: Well,what do you think?

Beelzebub chuckled instead of answering. A naughty man who never gave a serious answer. But this was as good as 'yes'.

Otherwise,it didn't make sense that they would not recognize Beelzebub when they were so close to each other, they were bumping shoulders.

Mc: Anyway,what happened? It's so sudden!

Beelzebub: Sniff* Sniff*

Mc: (I was an idiot for wanting an answer...)

Beelzebub buried his nose in the top of your head as though he didn't have time to answer.

Bewlzebub: There are about three places where you smell really strongly. One is here,another is in your armpits and the third is in your-

Speaking in joy,Beelzebub pretended to straighten up and whispered in your ear.

Beelzebub: And 'that' place which began to get wet as soon as I started sniffing you.

Mc:!!

You tightened your thighs before you knew it.

Beelzebub snickered and rubbed his cheek in your messy hair.

Beelzebub: I missed you. That's all.

Mc: !!!

Your heart thumped without resistence at the innocent confession,lightly delivered at the strange timing.

Strangely enough,you didn't feel like hiding the feelings in your heart.

Minhyeok's face momentarily flashed in your mind,but at the same time,another more honest emotion you had...

Mc: I missed you too.

Beelzebub: I thought you did. That's why I came here to see you.

The man's words had no weight,no modesty,but you thought it didn't matter.

Mc: (It's nice to hear)

With that honest emotion alone,you decided to enjoy this situation.

As though he had sensed your feelings,Beelzebub began to walk while pulling you closer to him and holding !ou more closely than before.

Just then,a sign poking out above the tall devils' head caught your eye.

Mc: Beelzebub,what kind of store is that? It has a drawing of a knife...is it a restaurant?

Beelzebub: Ahh,thats the store run by a devil who has the ability to change your gender.

Beelzebub: If you invest a few more seconds there,you can change !our gender right away.

Beelzebub: Its only available there,but it's a favorite spot for devils who want to swap positions with their lover.

Mc: T-That's amazing!

Beelzebub: Well,but it doesn't matter to you,right? All the devils here woudn't mind if you were a man or a woman.

Beelzebub said in a sing-song voice as thought the fact made him really happy.

Beelzebub: Ah,we're nearly there.

Mc: (You had a destination in mind?!)

You gasped in suprise and pointed at the nearest sign.

The sign had a drawing of a rope which looked like a noose.

Mc: Is that our destination?

Beelzebub: Ah,no. But shall we stop by there if you're intrested?

Mc: What do they have in there?

Beelzebub: It's a suicidal cafe. The customers can decide on the method of suicide.

Beelzebub: They can die by decapitation,dismemberment or drowning.

Mc: What?! Do they really die?!

Beelzebub: No,the owner of the store comes to save you just before you die,so you won't die for real.

Beelzebub: But it's just a place you go to feel that ectatic feeling of death.

Beelzebub: When you're really a second away from death,the owner uses his ability to restore you to your previous state.

Beelzebub: From what I heard,the owner is from Paradise Lost....He's a mysterious devil.

Mc: Is it alright for a devil from another country to do business here?

Beelzebub: Well,Bael will take care of that well,so - I don't really know about things like that.

Mc: (You're the king,but you don't know.)

Feeling trivially shocked,you sent words of comfort to Bael in your mind.

Just thwn Beelzebub came to a stop and so did you.

He had come to a stop infront of a bright red,steel door in the shape of a large arch.

Mc: Is this today's destination?

Beelzebub: No,this is a shelter.

Beelzebub: In human terms...a home in the woods? A bench in a large square in the center of a park? I don't know.

Mc: This flashy,prominent thing is a shelter?

Beelzebub: It should be flashy and prominent for you to notice and rest inside,shoudn't it?

Mc: Now that you say it,yea.

Persuaded by Beelzebub's reason,you opened the large door and entered with Beelzebub.

(Pg changes to the 'shelter' inside)

But you froze,your expectations of relaxing music or quiet room dashed as soon as you walked through the door.

Happy-looking Male devil: Ah...hnn!...

Happy-looking Female devil: Hn,hnn-hnngh...ah...ah!

Over the sticky,jazzy music,loud moans from around the spacious room overlapped,creating a cacophony that tickled your stomach.

In the reddish room,there was a plush couch that was obviously meant for relaxation, but it was covered in bodily fluids spilled by the devils everywhere...

And they were even conducting intercourse on the couch.

Mc: B-Beelzebub,I think we entered the wrong room...

Scratching your cheek in embarrassment,you pulled on thw hem of Beelzebub's clothes. He turned,then-

Beelzebub: Raise your arms. Say hooray!

Mc: Hooray?...

Beelzebub required it all too naturally,and you raised your arms without even doubting him.

Then the shirt you were wearing was pulled off the top of your head.

Mc: Huhhh?!!!

Startled,you raised your arms too late to cover your chest,

Beelzebub: How nice of you. Are you helping me?

Said Beelzebub,then casually threw his arms around you as if to embrace you,and immediately reached behind your back to unhook your bra.

Mc: Huhhhh?!

You made a stupid sound again,but you were already in Beelzebub's arms,stripped of your shirt and upper underwear.

Mc: W-Wait! I don't know what's going on now-

Beelzebub: We are going to take a break!

Beelzebub smiled as he hugged you.

You were about to experience a 'break' rhat you had never experienced before.

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb beelzebub #what in “hell” is bad?

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im-a-wonderling · 4 months ago

Text

Sloth Brains and Spine of Lionfish ~ George Weasley

This is a continuation of my ongoing George Weasley fanfic, so make sure you read the other parts first (here's part 1). I need to figure out what the overall fic name should be, so if anyone has ideas, let me know XD

Warnings: none

Word count: 5.2k

“And we’ve inquired about renting a place in Diagon Alley.” George easily skipped the vanishing step, turning around to offer his hand. I ignored it, jumping the step on my own and nearly losing hold of my books for my trouble. Unbothered, George gestured grandly with the untaken hand. “Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, we’ve called it.”

We reached the bottom of the staircase, making our way down the nearly empty corridor. I liked to walk to my classes before the castle walkways were clogged up with bodies and sounds, and most of the other students were still at lunch. Funny, George never seemed to mind the crowds before, yet now he walked with me in the empty hallways between every class.

George hopped up on the bench against the wall, walking along the wood with his arms stretched out for balance. “We should have a response before we all go home for Christmas, and possibly have the place rented before school lets out.”

I dodged the ghost of Erling the Great that had just appeared through the wall, hoping he didn’t see me. I did not want to get trapped into one of his onerous and endless stories again. “So you’ll be selling all those prototypes the two of you’ve been testing on the first years?”

“Yup." George hopped down to walk beside me again. "Plus a few more we’ve got up our sleeves. We’re testing another one tonight, and if it’s finally ready, it’ll be one of our staples in the shop.” The light in George’s eyes as he spoke about his dream was unlike his normal errant sparkle. The shine wasn’t born of mischief, it was born of passion, and it seemed to lift George’s very heels as he bounced excitedly forward.

“Well, I’m certain it’ll be brilliant.” Distracted, I hadn’t even thought about the words before they came flying out of my mouth. I pressed my fingertips to my lips, unsure if I were more horrified or embarrassed.

George’s bouncing paused, and he turned the full weight of his vexingly self-possessed smirk on me. “Is that so?”

Embarrassed. Definitely embarrassed.

My cheeks blazing, I scowled at him. “Don’t crow, it’s unbecoming.”

The redhead absentmindedly knocked the railing at the top of the next flight of stairs, causing the stairs to ripple a bit and then resolidify. “I’m just revelling in the compliment.”

“It’s hardly a compliment, more a statement of fact.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Oh?”

“Don’t look at me like that.” I forged past him down the stairs, ignoring the slight tremble I felt underneath my feet. The staircase—objectively the most sensitive staircase in the castle—was just pouting over George’s knock. “The two of you are persuasive, which is objectively a good skill to have for retail, not to mention the shrewdness required for the strategy of business and the creativity and intelligence to make new products. I’d wager you’ve already made a fair bit of coin here at Hogwarts, so with a centralised location that can be open full-time, you’ll make a fortune, and likely–” I closed my mouth, pressing my lips together.

Too much. I’d said too much.

The faint, impossibly warm chuckle from behind me made me shiver. “Well, when I have a fortune, I can perhaps afford to buy you a Christmas present.”

I stopped, rooted to the step. George passed me, continuing down a few more steps before seeming to notice I wasn’t beside him and turning to face me with a puzzled expression. "What?"

“Don’t buy me anything.” From my position three stairs higher than him, I had a tactical advantage were this to become a situation where my wand was necessary. Any offensive attack I unleashed would be that much harder to defend against.

But George stuck his hands in his pockets, seemingly unconcerned. “With trying to go into business and all, I couldn’t rustle up enough Galleons if my life depended on it.”

“Don’t spend anything on me,” I repeated, easily masking my sudden nausea as distaste. Gifts were pointless at best, painful at worst.

The incessantly inquisitive and contrary Gryffindor tilted his head, his eyes giving me a strangely sharp assessment that made me wonder if I wasn’t masking as well as I thought. “Why not?”

I forced myself to woodenly descend the steps and then turn the corner towards the Potions classroom. “There’s nothing I need.”

“But surely there’s something nice you want?”

“There’s nothing I want either.”

“Now you’re just joshing. Everyone wants something.”

“What do you want?” I shot back.

“I told you.” George opened the door to the Potions classroom. “To buy you a Christmas gift.”

I didn’t walk through the doorway. “Well, I want you to not buy me a Christmas gift.”

“Nah, that doesn’t work.”

“Why not?”

“Your wanting can’t just cancel someone else’s wanting. That’s like asking for it to drizzle when you don’t even like drizzles and only because I like the sunshine.” His tone was perplexingly even and carefree, despite the venom of my words. And he still held the door open.

I gripped my books tight to my chest. “Christmas gifts are like sunshine?”

“No, you are like sunshine,” George replied, the corner of his mouth curling in an infuriatingly charming smirk. He had no right to look like that when being sarcastic. “With all your suspicion and compliments and enthusiastic statements of fact, why, you just make me feel warm all over.”

“Then go step out in the snow,” I said crossly, finally walking under his arm into the classroom.

A cauldron bubbled merrily up by Professor Snape’s desk, just in front of the blank chalkboard. Reaching my potions station off to the left, I dropped my books down, the resulting thud much too loud but ultimately satisfying. I waited for the dungeon door to close, signalling that George had left and allowing the pit in my stomach to dissolve. But when it did close, I couldn’t help feeling a bit disappointed.

“Anyone sit here?”

I looked up in time to see George gently set a copy of Advanced Potion-Making on the station next to me.

“What are you doing?”

He flipped through the pages, his eyes trailing down the text. “Sitting in class with you.”

A fledgling of panic rustled its wings in my stomach. “You’re not in this class.” George hadn’t achieved the Outstanding required on his O.W.L.s to continue Potions at the N.E.W.T. level.

“Well, I see no harm in sitting in. Hogwarts rewards those who seek knowledge, you know.”

There was harm. There was much harm indeed. “George, class is going to start soon.”

George calmly met my gaze. “Lucky for us, I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

“Are you insane?” I hissed. “They’ll eat you alive.”

“Better me than you.” His light tone couldn’t disguise the weight of his words.

I paused, studying his freckled face. “Is that what this is about? You’re trying to rescue me again?”

“Prevent the need for rescuing, actually.” George pulled out his seat, sitting down and pulling out his potion-making kit, which clearly hadn’t been used in a while. “And be careful, or I’ll think you don’t want me to sit next to you.”

“I don’t.” Especially not when our peers were about to walk in, including Warrington. Not to mention Snape. George's misguided attempts would only succeed in making us both targets.

Unconcerned, George pulled a quill, an ink pot, and parchment out of his bag. “I promise I’ll be a model pupil.”

How did he do it? How did he brush it all off like the words meant nothing? Like consequences didn't exist? He just sat there, easily relaxing against the back of his chair like he had the ultimate conviction that it would hold him up as long as he needed.

The classroom door opened, and I immediately but subtly slid into my seat, hoping against hope that somehow our peers wouldn’t notice us.

But hoping George Weasley was unnoticeable was as useful as asking a kappa not to eat you. Warrington’s wicked eyes settled on George before sliding to me. I ducked my head. Maybe Warrington’s similarity to hippogriffs didn’t end with his looks and the sign of reverence would make him less dangerous.

But even as Warrington finally sat down, directly in front of Snape’s desk, I could still feel stares.

My peers didn’t often remember I existed, as I intended. I didn’t answer questions in class, I stayed out of trouble, I took care not to offend anyone who mattered and not overly involve myself in anything. It protected me, and it protected Clem. And yet as everyone, Gryffindor and Slytherin alike, stared at me with shock and disapproval, I knew they remembered me now. And that remembrance was going to bite me where it hurt.

I shrunk down in my seat, holding my elbows tightly. George leaned over to me. “Relax,” he said softly. “No one is going to curse you in the middle of class.”

“It’s not the middle of class I’m worried about,” I muttered, more to myself than to him.

His lips pursed, but before he could reply, the dungeon door banged open, and Professor Snape strode to the front, his cloak billowing behind him like shadows of prejudice and loathing. I could see the moment the potions master noticed George. His beady eyes narrowed, sending my trepidation through the roof. It was hard to know which house was more despised by the other in the Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry, but Professor Snape did not have the same amount of integrity within the rivalry as Professor McGonagall.

“A new student today,” Professor Snape mused, the slow delivery of every word promising trouble. I sat so stiffly, my shoulder muscles were beginning to hurt, but George stayed calm and seemingly unaffected. “Is there a reason for this…change?”

“Yes, sir, I just really wanted to hear today’s lecture,” George said politely.

“How studious of you.” Professor Snape crossed his arms, warning of the incoming confrontation. “I suppose, Mr. Weasley,” he said in his characteristically flat tone, “that you’re also studious enough to tell me what sloth brains are used for.”

George didn’t move from his laid-back yet attentive position. “Sir, that would be dragon dung fertiliser.”

The curl of Professor Snape’s mouth made me tense. “Of course. I would expect someone of your,” he paused as he rested a hand next to George’s worn textbook, “inclinations to misguidedly name dung as being the correct answer.”

A few snickers rang through the classroom, the Slytherins ready for the millionth round of Gryffindor mistreatment. “Daft Weasley,” said Warrington’s unmistakable voice, loud enough to echo through the whole classroom yet remarkably and predictably soft enough that Professor Snape didn’t seem to hear.

But I knew he had, judging by the hateful glitter in his eyes. The professor leaned in closer to George, who still hadn’t moved from his position. “Ten points from–”

“He’s not daft.”

I barely realised the words had come out of my mouth until everyone in the classroom turned to look at me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw George straighten in his chair.

“Excuse me?” Professor Snape finally asked. If the potions master could manage a sincere expression, he’d be aghast. As it was, he looked at me with the same chronically detached countenance he always wore.

Underneath the table, a hand brushed my leg, but I ignored it.

“Sloth brain mucus is used in the creation of dragon dung fertiliser, which Professor Sprout names as the superior fertiliser for magical plants. If you wanted him to answer what sloth brains are used for in this class, you should’ve specified, at which point he would’ve clearly said the Draught of Living Death.” I stared resolutely back at Professor Snape as the classroom fell silent aside from the bubbling of the example potion beside Professor Snape’s desk. “Sir,” I added belatedly.

The only sign of the professor’s surprise and uncertainty was the rapid blinks. “He would’ve clearly said it?” Professor Snape asked finally. “Then I suppose Mr. Weasley would also be able to tell me what colour sloth brains turns the Draught of Living Death, hmmm?”

“Cyan.” George’s posture, straight as an arrow, revealed the strain he was now apparently—and tardily—feeling. “It turns the potion from pink to cyan.”

See? I thought victoriously as I watched Professor Snape’s jaw move in a suspiciously gnashing way. I was right. He’s not daft.

“Detention,” the professor finally said.

“Yes, sir,” George responded, lowering his eyes.

“Not you, Weasley.” The dark eyes turned on me. “You, Miss Y/L/N.” George’s hand balled into a fist. “For speaking out of turn.”

I met the head of my house’s eyes without flinching. “Yes, sir.”

As Professor Snape continued the lesson, I noticed with slight triumph that he’d completely forgotten to take ten points from Gryffindor or give George detention for showing up.

But the triumph shrank as the class continued and George’s posture remained stiff.

After brewing a nearly perfect Antidote to Veritaserum and being assigned a 42-inch essay on exactly how the antidote combatted compulsory truth-telling, class ended. Instead of waiting for Warrington and the others to leave, I shoved everything into my bag and was the first one to the door. But nowhere could I go at no possible speed to avoid the fiery anger burning behind me.

“What were you thinking?” George hissed as I walked towards my common room.

“Snape doesn’t get to treat you that way,” I replied with equal fervour, wondering at how completely my compliance had disappeared. “And neither does Warrington, the prat.”

A hand closed around my elbow, turning me around. “Beg Snape’s forgiveness,” George demanded. “Maybe you can beg off spending the night in the dungeons.”

“I won’t,” I snapped, wrenching my arm out of his admittedly gentle grip. “Because they were wrong; you’re not stupid. It was a stupid question. He just wanted to mock you–”

“I’ve been mocked nearly every day of my life!” The response was so impassioned that George’s cheeks were going red. “I can handle it.”

“Well, I can’t!” I said sharply. “It’s not fair.”

“Oh, like you serving detention on behalf of your brother?”

I glanced around quickly, noticing the few seventh years loitering in the corridor. Were they gathering more evidence about the sudden and unorthodox alliance between George and I? Would any of them report back to Warrington? Or Snape? Or Merlin forbid, Umbridge?

Seizing George’s wrist, I dragged him off into an alcove, pulling so roughly that he nearly bonked his head into the sloped decorative wood carving of the tiny space. “How is what I did any different than what you’ve done for me?” The snarling tone of my words made me think of my lioness Patronus. Perhaps a lioness was more apt than I’d originally thought.

George, however, looked nothing like his mischievous and light-hearted magpie. “Because you disrespected a professor!”

"So did you! If you hadn't sat in the class, the whole thing could've been avoided!"

"Snape already hates me! But he's your head of house, and now you've insulted him!"

I glared at him. “And if McGonagall treated me like that, would you just sit there and not say anything?” He wouldn’t, we both knew it.

George scoffed deep in his throat. “That doesn’t matter, she would never do something like that.”

“Come off it, George!” I impatiently readjusted my heavy books, resisting the urge to toss them at him. “You would stand up for me!” He had stood up for me, many times over.

George pressed his lips together so tightly, they started to whiten, stubbornly refusing to say what we both knew was true. “You shouldn’t have done it.”

I scowled. “You don’t get to tell me what I should and shouldn’t do.”

“Someone has to, since you clearly weren’t born with basic self-preservation!”

Livid, I tossed my head and stormed out of the alcove towards my common room where the foolhardy twin couldn’t follow me.

“What happened to not lifting a finger to help or hurt anyone?” George called after me, so loudly that the other noises in the hallway hushed.

I lifted a finger over my shoulder in an obscene gesture as my only reply.

My footsteps echoed through the dungeons as I neared the potions classroom. Somewhere above my head was the Great Hall, lit up with enchanted candles and everlasting torches. In the dungeons, however, the torches were so sparse, it was easy to grow convinced that there was something lying in wait in every shadow.

“I received a new Spine of Lionfish shipment this morning,” Snape was saying, gesturing towards my potions station where a stack of boxes lay before returning to the parchment he was writing on. “You will crush them all into powder without using magic. When you are finished, and only then, are you allowed to leave.”

Spine of Lionfish. Capable of causing pain and paralysis. I licked my lips. “Sir, am I allowed to wear my gloves?”

The potions master paused in his writing, making my heart sink as I tried to guess how great a punishment Professor Snape meant to inflict on me. “Yes,” he said finally.

Worried my relief would make him change his mind, I concealed it before nodding and sitting down at the desk, pulling out my dragonskin gloves and getting started.

It would’ve been meditative to pulverise the white and red spines if I wasn’t constantly aware of how long it would take to grind three boxes of spines when my mortar could only hold five spines at a time. I glanced over at the desk to see Professor Snape hunched over, his nose inches from the parchment he wrote on, as if he was struggling to see it.

I popped open a vial, holding my breath so that I wouldn’t accidentally inhale any of the powder as I poured it inside the vial and labelled it.

Each vial could hold the powder of about fifty spines, and I’d filled four vials when Professor Snape suddenly rose from his desk. He pulled at his cloak, untangling it from his legs as best as he could while holding a letter. Whatever the letter was, it was either important or elicited some sentiment to make him clench it so tightly. Without saying a word, Professor Snape left.

I poured the powder into the half-full vial before dropping new spines inside the mortar. It might take me all night to finish my detention, but finish it I would. Once punished, my defiance would hopefully fade in memory.

Detention would ease Snape’s ire, but my classmates would likely look to retaliate in their own ways. I took a deep breath. As long as they stayed away from Clem, I would accept whatever punishment they doled out.

A soft rasp sounded behind me, making me freeze. And in that stillness, the unmistakable sound of a footstep sounded from behind me.

Would they interfere with the completion of my detention? Would Warrington, Parkinson, and Goyle really try to subject me to further wrath from our head of house?

Keeping the rest of my body still, I slyly slipped my hand off my pestle and into my pocket, gripping my wand. After a moment’s pause, I whirled around, thrusting my wand out. “Immobulus!” The blue spell shot from my wand tip.

“Protego.” My attacker’s wand arced, my blue projectile dissolving upon contact with the invisible shield.

Lifting my wand, another spell was about to leap from my lips when I finally recognized the face in the shadows. “What are you doing here?” I hissed.

George pocketed his wand before flinging himself down on the nearest seat as if it were a fainting couch. “I came to help my knight in shining armour. After defending my honour, I could hardly leave my dainty yet plucky princess to toil away in the dungeons.”

I clenched my wand, my heart beating at a pace I would fiercely deny if it were brought up. “I thought you said I was a knight.”

“Maybe you’re both.”

“Maybe I’m neither.” I glanced at him. “You’re a lot more dainty than me anyhow.” And a lot more chivalrous, though he didn’t need to know that.

George sighed like the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. “Can’t help it if I have easily bruisable skin, can I?” How strange. He seemed to have completely recovered from our fight earlier.

“Seriously, Weasley, what are you doing here?”

“Ooh, she brings out the last name.” George grinned. “That’s how I know I’ve got your stylish knickers in a twist.” I raised an eyebrow, and his smile fell. “Not that I’m making assumptions about your…knicker…preferences.” His cheeks were red again, but instead of accompanying the flush with a glare like earlier, he averted his eyes over towards the window where darkness was quickly falling.

“I’ll repeat my question,” I said, sparing him from acknowledging his obvious embarrassment. “What are you doing here?”

I definitely imagined the relief on his face as he dropped into the chair beside me. “Serving your detention with you.”

I returned to my mortar and pestle, grinding the spines with more aggression than before. “I know you have better things to do, perhaps some testing to do on first-years?”

“Fred can test the Canary Creams without me.”

“He’ll rename your business ‘Fred’s Wizard Wheezes’.”

George gave a short laugh, crossing his legs. “Naw, FWW doesn’t have the same ring as WWW.”

“If Snape finds out you helped me with the work, he’ll get angry.” I didn’t want the professor getting any angrier at either of us.

“Then I won’t touch anything. I’ll just help you pass the time.”

“By regaling me with more business plans?” My words were coming out all wrong, sharp and heated. George was being thoughtful, and yet I couldn’t seem to check my prickliness.

“If you like. I also have some fabulous stories to tell about pranks or family or even the sausage rolls I ate for breakfast.”

My pestle scraped a little too hard against the mortar. “Maybe your knight prefers silence.” I glared down at the lovely pink powder. Without the proper knowledge, someone might mistake the powder for something innocuous, like fairy dust or rose sugar. But the seductive material could cause serious damage.

“I think I know my knight better than that.” His voice had no right to be that gentle.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” He wasn’t being flattering, he was right on, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. “Maybe you don’t know her at all,” I said lightly, pouring the powder into the vial before dropping the next five spines into the mortar.

A hand found my waist, and I stopped grinding the chalky spines. My eyes fluttered shut at the sparks flying beneath my skin. I turned around, resting my gloved hands on his shoulder to push him away, but my muscles wouldn't do it.

I felt as though the warmth in George’s brown eyes was somehow pouring into me, chasing away the chill of the dungeon and shadows.

“Trust me,” I warned, “you don’t want to get close.”

“That’s just like you,” George said softly, his eyes fixed on some point beneath my nose, “just like you to tell me what I do and don’t want.”

“George, I’m serious.”

“So am I.” He licked his lips. “Uncommonly so.”

Fear flooded my body, tangling with the warmth to make a strange buzzing sensation. “Is this your plan?” I asked shakily. “The Gryffindor gets close to the Slytherin and then makes fun of her to all his friends because she fell for it?” I pressed my hand over the wand in my robes, prepared to pull it out again. “I won’t fall for it.”

George's hand brushed against mine. I wanted to pretend that he was trying to keep me from drawing it, but the gesture was too tender, too comforting to believe it. He stepped closer. “Maybe the Gryffindor is the one falling for it.”

“Sounds more accurate.” My voice was embarrassingly high-pitched and breathy. I cleared my throat. “Gryffindors are more gullible than Slytherins.”

“Can this gullible Gryffindor ask a question?”

He was too close. I needed to step away, to put some space in between us, but one step away was my potion station with venomous powdered Spine of Lionfish. “No,” I managed to say. “No questions.”

George lifted a hand to tuck my hair behind my ear. “Can I kiss you?”

My hands shook. If I needed to draw my wand, I wasn’t sure I would be able to hold it. “I said no questions.” Especially no questions that I didn’t know how to answer.

His face came closer to mine until all I could see was the expanse of fair skin beneath freckles. “I’d rather drink the Draught of Living Death than be like Warrington…and yet I’m trying not to read into the fact that you seemed more ready to kiss his boot than kiss me.”

I couldn’t respond or think when he was this close. When his lips were so close that I could feel his breath on my face. He couldn’t even do me the favour of having halitosis or even just onions and garlic for lunch?

“That’s…it’s…I mean,” I stammered. Why was it impossible to form anything coherent? I would’ve been happy with a snarky comment or a quick denial.

George tilted his head back slightly, looking me in the eye. “Say no. Say no, and I’ll sit back down and tell you about the recipe for Canary Creams.”

The refusal was prepared on my tongue, ready to launch and return both of us to the refuge of platonic banter with sporadic sincerity. Things were already too dangerous for the two of us, and the true threats of the castle and beyond hadn’t even started yet. It was better for both of us if I said no. I needed to say no.

But I couldn’t do it.

I never before had trouble doing what would keep myself and my brother safe, but being with George Weasley flew in the very face of safety, and I couldn't bring myself to back away.

His nose brushed against mine, and I marvelled at how smooth his skin was. I’d half-expected to feel bumps on the skin from his freckles. “Say no,” he whispered.

“I can’t,” I whispered. I wasn’t sure if the words referred to saying no or to kissing him, but George seemed to know.

Arms encircled my waist, secure and unavoidable. Lips pressed against mine, warm and soft and utterly, completely George. He was everywhere, even where he wasn’t touching me because all my body could do was sigh and all my mind could conjure were red locks and brown eyes.

He pulled back. “Do you–”

I rose to my tiptoes, kissing him before he could finish. George, apparently, didn’t mind, giving up on his words immediately to kiss me back. His fingers brushed back my hair, a gesture so comforting that I melted into him.

I pulled my gloves off, desperate to feel his face with my hands. The dragon scales let out a loud noise as they hit the stone floor, but I didn’t care, finally able to caress his face.

Without breaking the kiss, George stepped forward, moving me back on my tiptoes. I didn’t know where he was taking me, and I didn’t care enough to stop what we were doing and look.

George took another step forward when there was a clunking sound.

The latch of the door, I realised in horror. Instantly, George’s warmth disappeared, and I whirled around, frantically grinding at the spines while sweeping my gloves underneath the potion station with my toe.

Heart hammering, I heard the door open. The torches in the hallway casting momentary shadows before the door closed again.

Act natural, I thought frantically. Act like you've just been here the whole time, serving detention. But my inability to take a full breath undermined the nonchalance I was attempting. My lips burned, as if by kissing George, I’d kissed pure flames.

“Miss Y/L/N.” Somehow, Snape’s voice was more chilling than before.

Slowly, I swivelled to face the potions master. He didn’t look any more suspicious than he normally did, but he was never the type to emote.

There was a flash of movement over his shoulder, and I looked to see George with his back pressed to the wall of the dungeon, perfectly in between two torches where the shadows could partially conceal him. Quickly, I looked back to Snape, noting for the first time in my life with relief that the professor’s beady eyes were trained on me.

“You are free to go.”

I blinked, trying to ignore George creeping over to the dungeon door. “Sir, I haven’t finished–”

Professor Snape waved his wand, enchanting the mortar and pestle sets against the wall to soar over to the boxes and start grinding spines of their own accord. “You’ve been here for long enough.”

George reached the door, lifting the latch silently and sliding through a tiny crack in the door.

I nearly crumpled with relief, turning my attention back to Snape. “Sir, are you sure–”

“I’ve already taken points off Gryffindor.”

I frowned before quickly making my face blank. George lost points, regardless of my outburst. My actions today in class accomplished nothing.

“As for you, I won’t take any house points.”

Predictable.

“But I’ve written to your parents.”

I froze.

My parents—who represented just a blip in the long history the Y/L/N family of pureblooded Slytherins and yet championed the legacy with every movement—would soon know. As I looked into Snape’s glittering eyes, I knew he’d told them everything and knew the magnitude of punishment I’d be receiving. His grin widened as I remained still as a statue. Not only did he know, he relished it. “You’re dismissed.”

Snape lowered himself into the chair behind his desk, taking his time as he folded his long, bony fingers.

So thoroughly unable to move, I wondered if some of the dangerous pink powder had somehow made it into my body.

“Did you hear me?” The displeasure in Snape’s voice sounded like the cracking of a whip, and like a frightened mare, I stirred into action.

“Yes, sir, goodnight, sir.” I swiftly knelt to grab my gloves and put them on before dumping the spines in my mortar into the box again.

It wasn’t until I was pulling the dungeon door open that I remembered George, my fear only increasing.

But instead of George awaiting me, it was the cantankerous caretaker, Mr. Filch. “Out of bed, are we?” he snarled, looking quite pleased.

“I w-was finishing detention!” I burst out. “I’m on my way to bed, I swear!”

“You’d better hurry then.” Chapped lips curved upwards to show yellow teeth.

I fled from the teeth, from the spines, and from the consequences of the kiss. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, horror nipping at my heels.

“Advantage,” I said quickly, and the door to the Slytherin Common Room opened. I ducked inside and ran as fast as I could towards my dormitory, not stopping until I flung myself down on my bed, burying my face in my pillow.

Merlin, what had I done?

Overall tag list:

@thelastpyle @valiantlytransparentwhispers

Series tag list:

@onelemonoat @goldfishinpainttubes

#harry potter #hp #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #george #george weasley #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fanfiction #george wealsey x reader #george weasley x y/n #hogwarts #slytherin!reader #slytherin x gryffindor

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writer-by-the-sea · 4 months ago

Note

Jdndnnd Ur work makes me giggle and kick my feet... For the request I'd love angst to comfort, light angst ofc nothing too serious;

Farmer forgetting/not having time to visit Elliott for almost two weeks bc of farm work... and finally the writer can't take it anymore and goes to the farm to confront the farmer. They're not dating but they're having very intimate friendship with mutual pinning :p

(take ur time ofc 🫶!!!!!)

Like Home.

I thought I knew loneliness.

Until now.

----------------------

Slight angst, fluff, and loneliness. Thank you for the request! I am very rusty but I hope you like it!

Read below or continue reading on AO3.

In my youth, I thought I knew what loneliness felt like.

My mother would leave me at home for hours, picking me up and setting me down in her library. A library with books all the way up to the ceiling, encouraging me to reach as high as I could.

I would read book after book, tearing through the pages as if it would be taken from me at any given moment. Mystery, romance, biographies, fantasy, adventure, self help, horror, anything and everything that my little hands could grasp.

Of course, looking back on those times, those bookshelves weren't tall. The library wasn't a library at all but a small office with books collected over the years from garage sales or discount goods stores.

But the books, the books I would always hold dear. Because even in my loneliness moments, hunched over another story, when my thoughts would drift to my own family… my mother who is never home, or my father who didn't stay– books, were my company, my friends, my family, my home.

I thought I knew loneliness.

Until now.

Every morning, I stretch on the beach. Rain, snow, sleet, or hail; I make the effort to stand outside before the ocean and take in the fresh sea air.

And every morning, my favorite farmer would join me with a steaming cup of coffee. We would sip our drinks together, stealing glances at one another over the rim of our mugs, and we would chat. About anything and everything.

For the first time in my life, I didn't feel the need to run away to my library. I didn't feel like I was alone in the world, left out in the woods with no way home.

Because the farmer became my company, my friend, my family, my home. In the course of a year, I'd grown as attached to them as I did my books.

The first morning they didn't come to visit me, I took no offense. Winter was coming to an end and the ground was finally soft enough to till. It only made sense that they didn't visit.

The third day had me rethinking our last conversation. Had I said something to offend them? Had my eyes lingered too long over their body with too obvious of want?

On the fifth day, I began writing a very strongly worded letter. All teeth and no kindness, demanding to know why they didn't visit me and what on earth I could have done to warrant such behavior. For an entire year we would drink our coffee together, huddled close as we whispered secrets and gossip. I tore the letter to shreds, it was just caffeine withdrawal. Surely I would see the farmer again soon.

A week and a half passed. Not a single visit. Not a single letter despite myself sending them three. They didn't come to the inn, they never stopped by the bathhouse.

And yet– others had seen them. Pierre told me how the farmer came in a few days ago. Selling and buying goods for the farm. He smirked at me and said, “did the two love birds have a little spat?”

I left in a huff, leaving behind the bread I was planning to purchase and made my way to the farm. All the while creating imaginary conversations with the farmer in my head. Preparing myself for the worst, preparing myself to be alone once more, left alone in a library while my tears slowly dripped down my cheeks and into the worn pages.

When I arrived, I stopped to catch my breath and took the time to look around. A few small sprouts of new plants poked through the ground, the wind giving them a light tussle, welcoming me to the farm with their own little wave.

Knocking at the door, I crossed my arms over my chest and waited. My foot tapped impatiently on the wooden deck. I didn't want to appear rude, or as though I owned all of the farmer's time to myself; but… a life without them wasn't something I was willing to have.

I knocked again, harder this time.

Still no answer.

Just as I was about to leave, gritting my teeth and making my way back down the steps; I saw them.

The farmer was already grinning when they spotted me, waving me over excitedly before running back into their barn.

While I wanted to ignore the little ping in my heart at finally seeing them once again, to flip my hair and turn away from the barn to make my way home– I found myself entering the barn.

Inside the farm sat on their knees, their hands and forearms covered in dried blood.

And a baby calf, peacefully lounging in the straw with its mother stroking her tongue all over to clear them up. The farmer laughed at the mother gave them a quick lick on the side of their face.

“She’s been ready to deliver for nearly two weeks now,” the farmer said as they helped to clear more of the signs of birth from the babe. “I've hardly even left the farm besides running to Pierre’s to get more seeds and towels for the delivery.”

I could only stand there in shock. Their absence has nothing to do with me.

It had everything to do with their family.

“I see,” I said, defeated. Perhaps… at this time, the farmer is my company, my friend, and nothing more. “Well, I will leave you to it–”

The farmer laughed and held their hand out to me, beckoning me to join them. “Don't leave, I've missed you so much!”

“You did?” I blurted and took a tentative step forward.

“Of course I did,” the farmer’s smile dropped, their face twisting into confusion as they gazed back at me. “Did you not miss me?”

I dropped to my knees beside them, pulling the farmer into my arms and hugging them tightly. The farmer wrapped their arms around me, one hand rubbing over and down my back.

Tears I didn't know I was holding back began to fall and the farmer held me tighter.

“I love you,” I whispered into their neck, closing my eyes and preparing for them to pull away.

Time slowed as the farmer placed their hands on my shoulders and pushed me back. Their eyes glassy with tears, their cheek smudged with dirty, and a smear of dried blood across their forehead leading up into their hair.

“I love you, too,” they breathed out. Their lips crashed against my own, their kiss as desperate and needy as I've felt for all this time. It was slow but overflowing with heat, their tongue sliding over my lower lip and into my mouth as I melted into them. A moan escaped me as they pushed closer, one hand slipping into my hair and tugging me towards them.

“Moo?”

With a laugh, the farmer took their lips away from mine, much to my displeasure. They reached over and pet the mother cow on the top of her head.

“I've been wanting to do that for months,” the farmer smiled and grabbed my hand, rubbing their thumb over the back of it. “Since I first met you, actually,” they said, their cheeks filling with heat.

I leaned forward and brushed my lips against their own, softly and with all the ease in the world. “My sweet farmer,” I whispered against their lips, kissing them again. “You have no idea how much you mean to me.”

Like home.

(Please like, comment, and reblog. I am a plant and your enjoyment is my sunlight.)

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slvthrs · 2 years ago

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okay well now i need more dealer!vinnie x reader 😫

ofc babes!!

STARGIRL INTERLUDE | vinnie hacker

— MINORS PLEASE FUCK OFF FOR UR OWN GOOD —

after you and your drug dealer start dating and he just can't help feeling just a little too possessive of you

DRUG DEALER!VINNIE X FEM!READER

WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT MINORS DNI, use of drugs, relationship sex, degradation n praise kink, pet names, unprotected sex (use birth control idiots), choking, jealous/possessive vinnie, daddy kink, spanking

word count: 1.7k

Me and Vinnie had been dating for nearly a month and we were planning to celebrate our anniversary by going to have dinner at his apartment but we both had to go to our friend's house for different reasons- I was there to support my best friend during her birthday party and he was there to sell drugs.

So cut to me currently sitting in front of my mirror doing my makeup- it’s was my everyday look of black smudged eyeliner but I added some shimmer on my eyelids to make them pop and added a deep red almost black lipstick to the middle of my lips and smudged it out- Vinnie’s favorite.

I fluffed up my hair and tried to find some sort of hairstyle to wear but I just ended up wearing it down. I was wearing a mini skirt with a red corset top- I was wearing a jumble of rings and necklaces along with his silver choker from hard jewellery. On my feet were platforms along with knee high black lace socks and to finish the outfit I was wearing Vinnie’s oversized leather jacket.

I had finished my makeup and now I was sitting on my bed grabbing the stuff to put into my black purse- my phone, airpods, cigarette box, money, ID, lighter and my weed pen. That was when Vinnie walked into the room and looked at me with a sort of excitement which I then realized was due to the fact I was wearing his jacket and just in general of how good I looked.

“Peaches” God I loved that pet name, he sat in front of me on the bed, “You look so fucking good” he sad planting a kiss on my lips,

I giggled against his lips, and he continued “Do we have to go out, I bet Chloe won’t even know your missing” he argued

“Babe, it’s Chloe. I’ve known her since forever c’mon we just have to make an appearance and you have people who expect you to be there” I say with a pout and then drag him off our bed and then plant a kiss on his temple.

He was wearing a white david bowie top along with boyfriend jeans in blue and some nike air forces. The outfit was completed with gold rings on his hand and a gold necklace around his neck. To put is easily he looked fucking amazing I ruffled up his blond locks a bit and planted a kiss on his lips and pull him out of the apartment.

We end up situated in his car and I connect my phone to the aux and scroll through my spotify to find a good song but I just end up putting my likes on shuffled and it ends up on ‘Stargirl Interlude’ and I start dancing in my seat and lip syncing to the song,

“I had a vision,

A vision of my nails in the kitchen,

Scratching counter tops, I was screaming,

My back arched like a cat, my position couldn't stop you were hitting it”

The lyrics just end up causing Vinnie to end up in a fit of laughter and I end up smacking his arms and asking him to stop acting like a middle schooler with fake offense in my voice,

“Holy shit what is this song called” He asks while trying to compose himself, I just grin at him and tell him it's called Stargirl Interlude,

“Oh wait it’s like the song you made me listen to um what was it OH WAIT STARBOY” He exclaims and I just nod at him chuckling at myself,

“So wait if I’m Starboy does that make you my Stargirl” He asks and I think about it, “Hmm I guess so, I’m your stargirl” he just laughs, “You bet you are,” and then he kisses me again

— — TIME SKIP — —

We’ve been at Chloe’s party for about 3 hours and both of us want to leave but Vinnie has one more thing he has to do so I just end up waiting for him while on my phone when a guy come up to me,

“Oh hey I saw you from across the dance floor, you look really pretty” He says, he’s about 6 foot, and is wearing a black dress top and black jeans, damn nice clothes,

“Oh thanks” I saw with a friendly smile hoping to end this conversation

“I was wondering if I could get your number your just like really hot” Fuck this is going to be an annoying conversation

“Uhm actually I have a boyfriend so no thanks” I say trying to be as nice as possible

“Oh c’mon I don’t see him anywhere” He says trying to convince me

“He’s in the back and I’m seriously not interested” I say backing up but eventually hitting a counter

He keeps trying to get my number for about 3 more minutes while I keep telling him to stop until I meet Vinnie’s eyes across the room in front of the door looking like he’s about to hurt someone, and that's when I remember that it might look like something entirely different to him.

I maneuver around the guy and I run to Vinnie who is almost outside the door as I call out his name, “Vinnie just listen to me!” I yell and all he does is tell me is to get into his car

We just sit in the silence waiting for eachother to say something, we don’t say anything until we get into the apartment and as soon as the door closes he’s on me.

His lips smash onto mine as I’m pressed on the door and he’s pulling my jacket off, “I thought I was gonna go crazy seeing you flirt with him” He says as he pulls his lips off mine and onto my neck.

“Vinnie, fuck, I wasn’t flirting with him” I moan out

“Fuck, I know baby I know but I need to remind you who you belong to got it?” He says it like it's a question but it’s a statement, a command and a promise.

He pulls me off the door and I’m bent over his countertop with him pulling of my skirt and my panties in one swift motion and smacking my ass causing me to yelp and he grabs the base of my neck making me look up at him into his eyes that have darkened with something more sinister,

“I’m gonna make sure the only thing you can say after this is my fucking name, got it whore?” He says while slapping my ass again causing me to moan a ‘yes daddy’ under my breath

He takes his dick out, pumping it a bit and then running it through my folds and slamming it into me, gaining some of the most porngraphic moans that have ever left my mouth.

He places his finger around the choker on my neck and then pulls my head back and then spits in my mouth, “C’mon whore swallow it” he says as his eyes narrow and darken

His hands don’t leave my neck instead they let go of my choker and now he’s choking me letting me see stars, it doesn’t take long for my orgasm to come crashing as I cum around his dick.

He pulls me off and then spins me around and picks me up and takes me to his room and places me on his bed but he doesn’t join me he gets up and walks to the living room to grab my purse and pulls out my weed pen.

He sits in front of me and takes two puffs of the pen and then pulls my mouth close to him and blows the smoke into my mouth, the mixture of the weed and the eroticness of the situation makes my head spin and I pull Vinnie into a messy kiss still recovering from my post oragasm haze.

I climb on top of him and I rub his dick with my cunt making him moan in my mouth and letting me relish in the power I have. But it doesn’t last long until he’s pulling me off of him and pushing me on the bed and climbing on top of me to fuck me.

He lines his dick up with me and slams into me again causing me to tip back my head and arch into him, I claw at his shirt and he gets the hint and pulls his shit of but not before he pulls of my shirt and I run my hands up from his abs up to his chest and I start biting in hickies into his chest until I grab his hands and start kissing his finger and then put the digits into my mouth swirling them around with my tongue and sucking on them as if they were his dick.

I open my eyes to see him staring deep into me just watching as I suck on his finger, he’s so focused on looking and me that he’s stopped moving and is just staring, “God your such a whore for me aren’t you, your my little bitch” I don’t respond I just moan around him finger and pull them out with a pop!

He takes the hand I was just sucking on and brings them to my clit and starts circling it and continues thrusting into me chasing his own orgasm, I’m so close that my legs are shaking and I’m about to cry while he just places a kiss on my lips and continues his agonizing pace.

He finally cums after I cum for a second time and pulls out of me rolling over and he gets up to walk to the bathroom to grab a towel to clean me up and then finally lays down next to me grabbing the weed pen, and doing a few puffs before he passes the pen to me letting me take a few puffs before I succumb to my tiredness but not before he kisses me and calls me “My precious girl” as he cuddles up next to me and we succumb to our exhaustion.

#bella fawns over vhacker #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie hacker x reader smut #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker imagines #vhackerr #vincent hacker #vinnie hacker oneshot #vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker x you #vinnie x reader #vinnie imagines #vinnie #bella's full works

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gaysindistress · 5 months ago

Note

Requests? Honestly, anything that sees that beautiful old Hellrider happy and no longer pent up.

Pent up you say? *cue evil laughter* pent up Zevlor you shall receive.

pairings: Zevlor x f!reader

Warnings: suggestive nsfw

Bg3 masterlist

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on google/Pinterest

Paladins are holy warriors, soldiers trained to fight for a divine cause and never hold anything about it. Marriage is difficult to uphold when your spouse is programmed to think about a god’s well being above yours. Sex is not exactly a great time when your partner is consumed by thoughts of their god rather than indulging in the one before them. Conversations are no easy feat if you do not share the same faith and you’d be hard pressed to find a paladin who would even give you the time of day in that case.

But an oath breaker?

They are godless.

They are devoted fighters with no faith to draw strength from.

They are searching for something, or rather someone, to place their faith in again.

Before the events of Moonrise, Zevlor would’ve felt guilty for the thoughts he has about you. Before he would’ve been disgusted by the way he envisioned what your body would feel like against his. He would’ve hated himself for imagining the arch of your back as you bent over his desk. He would’ve detested the way his body betrays his self control and grows rigid at the sound of his name falling from your lips.

But what I think he would hate the most is how he was deprived of you for so long, especially when you’re mewing out for him in his bed.

It takes every ounce of strength and thread of self control that he has to not

“Where are you going?”

I hear a voice call from behind me and I briefly glance over my shoulder at Aradin. He’s basking in whatever shitty afterglow he finds himself enjoying and lazily trailing his eyes up my naked form.

“Where does it look like I’m going?” I respond in a clipped tone while I search for my clothes.

“No you’re not. Come here,” he says in that awful wannabe seductive tone and tries to grab at my arm.

My reaction is almost too violent and by me ripping my arm away, I almost hit it against the headboard. He makes some comment under his breath about how ridiculous I am and if I really hated him that much then why do I even come here. It takes everything in me to not shout at him that I would rather let Astarion use me as his personal blood bank than continue to sleep with his pompous ass but a girl’s got needs.

I finish getting dressed and leave the suffocating room without a second look at Aradin. The full body shutter washes over me the moment the door closes behind me. My stomach feels empty yet sick from the lack of food and self disgust that I’m feeling. As if on auto pilot, I find my way out of the Elfsong and to the street where a young girl is selling fresh baked goods. I hand her a few gold coins for an orange roll that I mindlessly tear pieces off of as I stroll through the city. The morning is still new; the air is moist and smells of salt while the sun quickly rises in the sky and begins to warm the day. I pause in front of the docks and close my eyes as I take a deep breath, inhaling the smell of the sea.

“Excuse me! Y/N!”

The sound of my name being loudly yelled forces me to open my eyes and turn towards my right. Alfira is wildly waving at me while racing down the street to catch up to me.

“Y/N! I’ve been trying to talk to you for weeks now but you’re surprisingly hard to find.” She says, albeit out of breath and with a wide smile on her face. “You should come over so we can talk.”

The traces of Aradin still cling to me and I grimace at her statement before I can stop it. Her brows knit together in confusion and subtle offense.

Fuck.

“I would love to Alfira but right now is not a great time. How about I come by tomorrow night?”

She narrows her eyes at me as they survey me. I shuffle under her sharp gaze and freeze when she stares at my neck. Her eyes grow wild as she makes eye contact with me.

“Oh gods please tell me Zevlor didn’t do that. I don’t think I could handle hearing about your escapades,” she giggles and feigns playful disgust. Her giggles fall short when I don’t share them. My grimace grows while her eyes grow even wider and she lets out the loudest gasp imaginable. I grab her by the arm and pull her towards a less busy area when people start to look. I hiss her name at her to get her to quiet down.

“Who did that to you? Does he know? Oh gods he’s so hopelessly in love with you, y/n! What are you going to do? Are you going to tell him? Please tell me you’re not going to see who ever tried to eat your neck last night!” She all but shrieks in rapid succession.

I hiss her name again, “Alfira! You need to quiet down before the whole city knows my business.”

“Well?”

I let out a groan of frustration and rub my hand down my face before I answer. “No i didn’t spend the night with him. I spent it with….someone else.”

“Who?”

“I’d rather not say.”

“It was Aradin wasn’t it?”

We share a look of mutual concern for my sanity after I slowly nod. She lets out a scoff and crosses her arms over her chest.

“Him? Of everyone in Baldurs Gate, why him?”

I shrug while shoving the rest of my roll into my mouth so I don’t have to answer her.

“I can smell him in you, you know that?”

Double fuck.

My chewing freezes. I shake my head.

“And that means if I can, then Zevlor will be able to as well so you’re going to come over, scrub your skin until it’s raw, and pray that I have enough candles to cover it all up.” Her tone is final and leaves no room for me to argue with her so I don’t. I let her boss me around and we fall into idle conversation as we walk to her apartment.

Tea has been brewed, candles lit, food made, and my body thoroughly cleansed. I can hardly move without being hit with a wave of orange blossom thanks to the hair oils and lotions Alfira let me borrow. Even my clothes were taken to be washed so i had to borrow clothes from her as well but with how large they are, I know they can’t be hers or Larkissa’s. The billowy white shirt smells faintly of metal, the forest, and something else I can’t put my finger on.

The two tieflings are being grossly cute together stealing love sick looks at each other as Alfira and I talk. At one point I mock throwing up at one particularly adorable look and earn myself a playful shove from the bard. We descend into a fit of giggles so hard that I have trouble catching my breath. Alfira sniffles from the tears that have sprung from her eyes and wipes away at them.

When I do catch my breath, I take a deep breath and wind my hair into a loose knot so it’s off my neck. I’m in the middle of thanking Alfira for bringing me over and forcing me to stay when the front door opens. Lakrissa greets whoever it is and I assume it’s one of their friends so I tip my head back to say hello too. My voice stalls about half way through the word when I make eye contact with the Hellrider Commander.

Alfira lets out a squeak and glances quickly at my neck, causing Lakrissa to do the same. The tiefling wives share a look of understanding as Lakrissa steps between us and Zevlor while Alfira practically yanks my hair down. Everything happens so quickly that all I can manage to do is let out a small yelp of pain and glare at her.

Zevlor sits down next to me, scanning both Alfira and myself with a sharp eye. His entire body tenses when he gets to my neck. I quickly look at Alfira who’s gone pale if that’s even possible and has her lip trapped between her teeth.

“Anyone hungry?” Lakrissa loudly announces and partially saves us from the suffocating tension that is filling the room.

I wait about 15 minutes before quietly excusing myself from the table and disappearing up to the roof. Before I leave the room, I glance back to find that Zevlor is already watching me. the eye contact we make is fleeting but there’s no mistaking the longing and heartbreak that’s pooling in his eyes.

I’ve lost track of how long I’ve been out on the roof but it’s grown dark by the time I hear the hatch open. The wind blows a gust of a familiar scent towards me; the same as the shirt I’m wearing and one I dreamt of for months now.

“Join me?”

There’s nothing for a moment and I fear that he would pretend to not hear me and walk away. That fear is nullified when he does join me and sits beside me on the blanket that’s been left up here. There are only a few inches between us but our shoulders are close enough that I can feel his natural warmth. Like a moth to a flame, I want to lean into him and enjoy the heat that lives within him.

“How did you know where to find me?” I choose to ask so I don’t lay my head on his shoulder.

“She’s worried about you,” he responds while staring up at the night sky, “she asked me to come check on you.”

Sighing, I drop my gaze to my hands that are draped over my knees. My fingers dance with each other in the pale moonlight, twirling and rolling over one another.

“Do you wish to be alone?” He asks in a quieter voice. I can’t bring myself to look at him just yet nor do I trust my voice so I simply shake my head.

We sit in silence for some time, watching the stars enjoy their nightly party and dance together in harmony. The longer we stay like this, the closer I feel we become. By the time he finds his voice again to say my name, my shoulder bumps into his and he pulls away slightly to my dismay.

“What’s that look for?” he asks when I look between him and my shoulder.

“You didn’t have to move away. I don’t mind that you’re….that we were….it was okay.”

He stares down at me with an unreadable expression before shaking his head and turning back to the sky.

“You are with someone. It would be inappropriate for me to… to touch you.” His tone is clipped as he grits out the words. I don’t miss the way his jaw flexes or how his hands curl into small fists before slowly unfurling.

“I am not,” jumps out with my breathy voice and he blinks at me with an arched brow. “I’m not with anyone.”

“His scent lingers on you still,” he nearly snarls between clenched teeth. His infernal eyes are squeezed shut and his nose is flared with his breath coming in short, swallow breathes.

I take a calculated risk and grab him by his chin, forcing him to look at me, “I’m not with him, Zevlor.”

“You reek of him, Y/N. You must think me a fool if you think that I’d believe you’re not with him.” He grips my wrist and tries to pull it away but I can’t let him. I can’t let him slip away again, not when I have him so close.

“I've been trying to forget you.” I whisper and let my gaze fall to his lips. His hand flexes on my wrist, tightening around it as he searches my face for a hint of dishonesty. Maybe I’m stupid or maybe I’m bold but either way I lean towards him as I tell him that Aradin has been a failing attempt to forget him.

“That’s a lie,” he chokes out with eyes squeezed shut. His features are pulled taunt from his internal struggle of whether or not to push me away or to believe me.

Pressing a light kiss to the corner of his mouth, I whisper to him that it’s not.

“Prove it.”

We meet in a desperate yet slow kiss as we try to commit this moment to memory. My hands slid from his chin to his jaw, cupping it as I begin to lose myself in the feeling of him. I feel his cradle my neck but it’s not enough. I need him to touch me. I need to feel him gripping at my body in the way I know he wants to.

I find myself moving closer to him until one of his hands falls to my waist and his claws dig into my hip. I take the opportunity to climb onto his lap and let my fingers grip the hair at the base of his neck. Zevlor lets out a deep guttural breath when I sit down and pull at his ponytail. My own embarrassing moan slips out when I feel him press it against my core. He pulls away from me causing me to chase after his lips but his raspy voice stops me.

“Y/N,” he whispers, “I will either have you to myself or not at all.”

Before he can say anything more, I hurriedly whisper back, “you’re the only one I want.”

He dips his head to plant wet kisses down my jaw and whispers against the skin of my neck, “tell me that you’re mine.”

I quietly mumble something incoherent and let out a high pitched whine when he sucks a bruise at the edge of my jaw. He urges me to say it.

“I’m yours, Zevlor. Only yours.”

#zevlor imagine #zevlor x reader #zevlor bg3 #zevlor #zevlor x tav #bg3 imagine #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 #bg3 tav #zevlor smut

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livesincerely · 9 months ago

Text

”Hi,” a voice says, much closer than he expects. Davey turns to find a woman at his elbow—pretty, with long, tawny hair and big brown eyes—and her smile is sweet and a little shy. “I’m Julia.”

”Uh, hi,” Davey replies, a little confused.

His first thought is that she needs help flagging down the bartender; Davey’s tall and the place is packed, so it’s a reasonable assumption.

Instead, she says, “I don’t usually do this, but, I thought, maybe— And, my friends said I should just be brave and go for it, so, uh, would you be interested in maybe going out sometime? With me?”

”Oh, uh,” Davey rubs a hand over the back of his neck, a little thrown. He scrambles for a good way to turn her down without being mean. “I’m actually not—“

”Dave, did you want any food or just the drink?” Tony asks, tugging at his shirt sleeve to get his attention.

Davey latches onto him like a lifeline.

”I’m here with my boyfriend, Tony,” he lies, throwing an arm around Tony’s shoulders and pulling him in close.

Tony, because he’s the absolute best and Davey’s new favorite person, doesn’t even miss a beat.

“Oh, hey,” he says, curling into Davey’s side. “Sorry, this one’s taken, but believe me, I understand the appeal.”

”Oh my god,” Julia says, looking mortified. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize—“

”No biggie,” Tony says easily. “It happens.”

He turns back to Davey, lifts up on his toes, and presses a chaste kiss to his lips. “Come on, babe,” he says, with a ridiculous eyebrow wriggle. “Help me carry our drinks.”

Julia excuses herself with another flustered apology—Davey almost feels bad, but mostly he’s relieved at how relatively painless the whole exchange was.

“I owe you one,” Davey murmurs to Tony as they escape, heading to their table.

Tony snorts. “Oh, trust me, I’m about to get it back, with interest, in sheer entertainment value.”

“What do you mean?” Davey asks.

“Judging by the look on his face, Jack definitely saw what just went down,” Tony says, oddly vindictive. “And he ate the last of my fucking Froot Loops yesterday, so he deserves what’s coming to him.”

“What’s coming to him?” Davey questions, a little too drunk to follow this new thread of the conversation.

“Don’t worry about it,” Tony says, patting his shoulder. “Here, sit.”

He pushes Davey into the open seat next to Jack—who's watching them with a strange expression, tension pulling at the corners of his mouth.

That tension only grows more pronounced as Tony plops himself into Davey’s lap and makes himself nice and comfortable. Davey just wraps his arms around Tony’s waist, resigned to this becoming A Whole Thing.

”Everyone here owes me money,” Tony announces gleefully to the table at large. “He didn’t even make it five minutes.”

There’s a collective groan.

“Who was it this time?” Specs asks, digging into his pockets for his wallet.

”Girl at the bar,” Tony says, nodding in the right direction. “The one in the green dress.”

The whole group turns to look as one, not even trying to be discreet. Davey resists the urge to sigh.

“She actually seemed normal,” Tony continues, with audible disbelief. Davey wishes he could take offense but, unfortunately, it’s well-warranted. “Cute, too. I wouldn’t’ve chased her off if Dave hadn’t signaled.”

”And where did kissing him factor int’a the equation?” Jack asks, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans back in his chair.

“You kissed Davey?” Albert asks loudly, looking intrigued. He turns to Davey and continues, “You let him kiss you? Don’t’cha know where his mouth has been?”

“Fuck off, Albie, I’m fresh as a fucking daisy—“

“No one should be kissin’ Davey,” Jack insists with a scowl.

“Dave didn’t mind,” Tony says with a smirk. He’s clearly enjoying this way too much. “And anyway, we had’ta sell it.”

“Oh, I bet you fucking did,” Jack mutters under his breath.

“How come Racer gets to mack on Davey?” Albert complains, which tracks—tequila always makes him pouty. “It’s my birthday! If anyone gets to kiss Davey, it should be me.”

“Pretty sure that’s not how that works,” Romeo tells Albert as Jack sputters soundlessly.

“Sure, it does,” Al insists. “Hey, Dave, can I kiss you?”

“No one is kissing Davey!” Jack says. He kind of looks like he’s got a swarm of bees in his mouth, his cheeks flushed and puffed out, his jaw working furiously.

“Uh, not with that fuckin’ attitude,” Albert scoffs, extremely unimpressed. “How ‘bout it, Dave?”

Davey blinks. “Um…”

“No one else is kissing Davey,” Jack orders.

#newsies #javid #*editor's note #*the writing desk #bits & bobs #is this anything? trying to decide if I like it enough to keep going #and I was due for shenanigans #and I always love writing jealous Jack #anyhoo

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rotworld · 6 months ago

Text

Fitting the Collar

that weird guy from the club wants to go for a walk in the woods in werewolf territory. a continuation of sheep's clothing and savior.

->sawyer/reader/corbin. explicit; contains noncon, coercion, implied stalking, feral behavior, typical werewolf-pack human power imbalance, outdoor sex, thighfucking, knotting (doesn't actually happen but discussed in detail)

WOLVES IN THESE WOODS screams the vandalized trail kiosk. These words are scrawled over a map of the mountain, each big red letter spray painted in so many thick, messy layers that they drip like blood. This eyesore greets you at the edge of the parking lot where gravel turns to dirt and sunlight strains through the leaves. It’s not news, to you or to anyone who’s lived near the mountains for any amount of time. Dogwalkers and families on bikes barely spare the sign a glance as they set off, because of course there are werewolves. They shop at the hardware store and sell produce at the farmer’s market. Once a year, they come to Eastridge City Hall to negotiate another year of peaceful cohabitation and give the local news something to catastrophize about.

And yet, the graffiti gives you pause. It’s probably just some mischief but it looks so dire, clashing with the rustic charm of the wooden kiosk and the tranquil beauty of the forest all around it. You tell yourself there’s nothing to worry about. You’ve seen werewolves before. But the fearful part of your brain that makes you flinch and look around nervously every time a twig snaps reminds you that this is different. You’ve seen them in town, in public, at gas stations and second-hand stores, one time at a coffee shop. You’re on their turf now. You glance back at your car, parked in the shade, and think about backing out. Texting an apology and an excuse, some last minute emergency that you can’t neglect.

“Hey, you made it!” You don’t see him coming because you’re watching the parking lot, not the trail. An arm slings around your shoulder, dragging you into a sideways hug. You’re startled and off-balance, too stunned to do anything about a relative stranger nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck with an uncomfortably deep inhale until it’s already over. He pulls away with one last stroke of his thumb against your cheek, and then he shoves his hands in his pockets and stands at a distance like it never happened. “I’m glad you came,” Corbin says. He looks like he’s been hiking without you, prickly seeds stuck to his jacket and mud caked to his boots. Those vicious markings littering his neck are on full display with his hair pulled back. You try not to look at them but your gaze is repeatedly drawn back down. Some of them look fresh, still puffy and irritated. “It wasn’t too hard to find, right?”

“No, it was fine,” you say, wondering for the hundredth time how he talked you into this.

“Great! You’re gonna love this trail. It’s super easy, don’t worry. And we can go slow…” Something over your shoulder catches his eye and his brows furrow, his mouth pressing into a tight frown. “Well, that’s annoying. And covering up the map like that! Packless—” He cuts himself off abruptly, glancing at you with a sheepish smile like he said something you might find offensive. Strangest of all, he goes out of his way to take a picture of it, standing back with his phone raised so he can get the whole sign in frame. “Some people, right? Anyway, let’s get moving.”

You remember the conversation that led to this outing. Idle chatter in a mall food court, held hostage out of polite obligation because he’d bought you lunch even when you insisted he didn’t have to. You smiled nervously while he went on and on about how nice the weather had been lately, how perfect it was for long walks in the woods and how all the best trails were in the next town over. You should’ve seen the invitation coming but instead you were thinking that it was weird, right, that this random guy had suddenly become such a big part of your life, weird that you kept running into each other when he didn’t even leave in Eastridge.

You were relieved when he stopped showing up at Club Mountainview to tip you obscene amounts of money for serving him appetizers and occasionally refilling his water between drunk, demanding customers, but then he started showing up everywhere else. Not all the time, though. Not so often or so conspicuously that you could confidently call it stalking. Sometimes he comes into your favorite coffee shop just as you’re leaving and he doesn’t even wave. Sometimes he disappears for weeks at a time without explanation. But when you do talk, when he smiles at you and pulls you into his shamelessly intimate affection, rubbing his face in your hair or humming in contentment against your neck, something in you responds with embarrassing eagerness. Maybe you’ve just been too busy lately, starved for interaction. You can’t shake the feeling that he can see right through you. You never say much, but he seems to know you better than you know yourself.

“I appreciate you coming all this way. It doesn’t seem like you get a lot of time off,” Corbin says. The trail is wide enough that you can walk side by side with some room between you, but he sticks close. Your sleeves brush sometimes.

“I’m glad I did,” you tell him. “You weren’t kidding, it’s really nice out here.”

His eyes light up, smile widening as though you complimented him instead. “It is, isn’t it?”

The trail is a gentle winding path into the mountains full of birdsong and warm breeze. You see speckles of moss and wildflowers, a sea of swaying greenery that seems to go on forever. Corbin stops halfway across a bridge straddling a river and you clasp the railing beside him, watching the water stream white-capped over the rocks below. You linger for a while, enjoying the sound of the rapids and the occasional glimpse of a fish darting downstream. You catch him staring in the corner of your eye. He smiles, unashamed, and scoots closer. His shoulder rests against yours.

“This is wolf territory,” he says. His tone is strange and hard for you to identify. It’s not sad, exactly, but it’s stern. Solemn. Like he’s telling you something profound. “Do you know much about the pack that lives here?”

He’s watching your expression carefully and trying to pretend he isn’t. The scrutiny makes you uncomfortable. You push back from the railing and he follows with a small frown but begins walking again, giving you more distance than he did before. “Not really,” you say, shrugging. “I don’t know much about werewolves in general.”

It’s an odd question, you think, and it’s odder still when he hums in acknowledgement and drops the subject. You keep walking, keenly aware of his presence beside you. You’ve wondered for a while now if Corbin might be a werewolf. You’re sure he was with some when you first met. It wasn’t just that they were a little intense and eccentric. You felt cornered when they looked at you, a spark of fight-or-flight igniting in your chest. It was instinct. You sensed something wild and powerful, and you braced yourself to run if it bared its teeth.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks. The way he looks at you, the sly smile on his lips, makes it seem like he already knows.

You don’t want to ask. That would be rude, right? And what difference does it make? Werewolves haven’t been going around hunting and eating people for centuries, no matter what the tabloids say. “Just thinking,” you say.

“Mhm? About what?”

“Just…stuff.” Now he’s staring and not being subtle about it at all. You keep expecting him to trip but he keeps his eyes on you the whole time instead of on the path ahead without any trouble. Like he’s walked this trail a thousand times, you think. Like it’s second nature. “What do you do?” you ask, desperate for something else to talk about.

“Like, for work?” His gaze wanders away for a moment and he tilts his head, his expression becoming amused and wistful. For such a simple question, he takes a long time considering his answer. “I guess it’s kind of like a human resources job.” He grins. You feel like there’s a joke you’re not getting. “Not the stuffy office kind. I work out here, actually.”

“Out here?” you echo. “Like with the Parks and Rec service?”

“With parts of it, yeah.” The path splits, a fork meandering into thicker brush and foliage. You’re not sure if it’s a proper trail or just a common footpath worn into the grass. It’s narrower, rougher and more uneven, carpeted in fallen leaves as though few people have been through to disturb them. There’s a tree right where the smaller path breaks off, a symbol carved into the bark. You don’t know what it is; a mishmash of jagged lines intersect with squiggling curves, gouged into the wood with something sharp. Corbin insists on going this way despite your reservations. “It’s part of the trail, I promise,” he assures you, his hand resting on your lower back with just the slightest pressure, urging you to keep moving. “Unless you’re tired and wanna go back?”

You wouldn’t mind seeing more of the trail, but you stare down the path with apprehension. You see it curves gently upwards as it goes, slowly ascending further into the mountains. “We could head back,” you say, but Corbin doesn’t let go. He keeps pushing, offering a reassuring smile.

“Can I show you one more thing?” he asks. “Just a little further. Then we can go.” Just like that time at the mall, you plan on refusing. The words are on the tip of your tongue but you can’t seem to get them out. There’s something about Corbin—not any particular thing he says or does, just the way he is. He stands close to you. He looks you in the eye. His hand rises from your back and slides up and down your arm instead, a soothing gesture that you find yourself embarrassingly reactive to, and then he takes your hand in his. “You’re afraid of wolves, aren’t you?”

You shake your head, not trusting your voice to stay steady if you answer. He just smiles.

“It’s alright, I get it. They seem kind of scary, right? A lot stronger and faster than us. But y’know, they’re actually pretty gentle. I’ve been living and working with one of the local packs for a while now. They take good care of me.”

“You live with them?” you ask, disbelieving.

Corbin laughs. He takes your hand in both of his, rubbing his thumbs into your skin. “I want to show you something,” he says softly. “Please? I promise, you’re safe with me.” He does it again somehow; quells your worries and draws you closer, talking you into something you didn’t want to do. He keeps holding your hand when he starts walking, looking over his shoulder periodically to smile and tell you it’s not far now. You pass a fallen log with squirrels shuffling around inside, a wooden guardrail at the edge of a ravine, a hill dotted with wildflowers. The birds are louder here, the sunlight even softer where it manages to trickle through the trees. Corbin slows his pace when you almost trip and fall, the toe of your shoe catching on a tree root snaking across the path. He’s looking for something. He keeps talking, telling you the scientific names of everything you can see, but his gaze scans the forest as you walk.

He must find it, because suddenly he stops and drags you to a halt beside him. You’re quickly ushered off the trail, dragged into a crouch beside Corbin behind a mossy boulder. He doesn’t respond to your nervous stammering except to press his finger to your lips with a mischievous smile. Then he points, over the boulder and up ahead. You don’t see anything. Corbin exhales sharply in amusement at your pinched, confused expression. He gets closer, an arm draped over your shoulders to pull you in as much as he can. He smells like these woods; earth and grass stains, sharply evergreen. His body heat warms your side. He points again.

This time, you see it but only because it moves. There’s something out there. A blur. A shape. Brown, black and gray, drifting in the spaces between the trees. With a sudden surge of breathless panic, you realize those are wolves. Not one but several, moving with nearly silent, predatory grace. Their tails flick as they trot briskly through the dappled shade. You can tell they’re enormous, even from here, bigger than any dog you’ve ever seen. The one in the lead has thick, coal black fur, and it stops suddenly with a quiet bark. The others spread out in a semi-circle, ears pricked and attentive.

Corbin squeezes your shoulder as if to remind you he’s there. He leans in, whispering into your ear. “Shepherds. They’re on patrol.”

You’re not sure if you’re watching a meeting, an argument, or something else altogether. The wolf in charge chuffs and paws at the dirt, the others watching, tilting their heads. They seem to reach some kind of understanding because all but the leader start moving again. That one lingers, watching them leave. It sits in a sunbeam, its dark fur looking silky in the light. Then it lurches forward with a strained whimper like it’s going to be sick, foamy saliva dribbling from its open maw. You watch in speechless horror as the wolf’s fur starts to bulge and shiver like something is moving under its skin. Corbin’s grip on you tightens just as you tense, ready to run.

“It’s alright,” he whispers. “He’s just shifting. He has trouble with it sometimes.”

You don’t want to watch this but you’re afraid to look away. The wolf curls around itself with limbs that are all wrong, too long and bending strangely. Its paws stretch and lengthen. Its snout shrinks. It groans and the sound is wet and throaty, its fur receding in patches that expose the shift of sinew in sudden, cracking snaps that hurt to hear. You see skin, slick and shining with sweat. You see fingers tipped with thick, black claws. The sound of bones popping in and out of sockets finally fades and you hear soft panting. The wolf is halfway to man. It goes no further. Still breathing heavily, he sits up and runs a hand through long, messy bangs the same dark color as the stubborn patches of fur still clinging to his limbs and back. He climbs to his feet and—

he’s naked. Completely head to toe naked, soft cock and heavy balls dangling between his legs. You think, for the second time, that you shouldn’t be seeing this, but Corbin still doesn’t let you get up. You find him watching you, studying your expression intently. Has he been doing that the whole time?

“Corbin.” The werewolf’s voice is low, rough and growling. He’s looking right at the two of you like the boulder’s not even there. Corbin laughs. He lets you stand up when he does, but he keeps you trapped against his side. His hand slides from your shoulder to your waist.

“Beta,” Corbin greets. He lifts his head and tilts it to the side, exposing his throat. The werewolf makes a sound in his throat, something like a dismissive grunt. “This is Sawyer,” he tells you, nodding to the wolf. “He’s not a shepherd anymore, but sometimes he goes with them—”

“Who is this?” Sawyer asks. He approaches slowly, almost cautiously, pointed ears twitching.

Corbin tries to push you forward but you dig your heels in. “My friend—”

“Shouldn’t be here.” Sawyer’s eyes are like a wolf’s—no sclera, only inky black and golden-brown. You’re afraid to even breathe when his wide-eyed animalistic stare pins you in place. “You’re lucky I found you first, before this became a problem. No one’s thinking clearly this time of year.”

“My friend,” Corbin insists. “The one I told you about, from the club in Eastridge.” Sawyer’s gaze leaves you momentarily, meeting Corbin’s eyes instead. Corbin’s practically vibrating with excitement. His fingers tap a quick rhythm into your side.

“Ah,” Sawyer says. He looks at you again, still frowning and pensive. “Should I go?” you ask nervously.

“No.” Your heart skips a beat when Sawyer and Corbin answer in unison, the word pronounced as a firm growl. Corbin laughs. Sawyer doesn’t, shifting uncomfortably. His tail sways in a slow, uncertain wag. “No,” he repeats quietly. “I’m sorry if I scared you. I’m…cautious with outsiders.”

You never expected to hear a werewolf sound so anxious and awkward. “It’s okay. I get it, I’m in your home.”

“My home is open to you.” He looks off into the distance. It’s hard to deny that he’s handsome. He has unusual features, everything sharpened and wolf-like but still recognizably human. He’s taller than both you and Corbin, lithe and muscular, the story of a long, difficult life told across the many scars carved into his skin. His limbs are long, unnaturally so, like something didn’t settle where it was supposed to while he was shifting.

“They’re a little nervous around werewolves,” Corbin chuckles, making your face fill with embarrassed heat.

“I just haven’t met very many,” you insist. Sawyer glances at you and you still can’t tell if he’s angry or not. You break eye contact and hear him take a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

“You can look at me, if you’d like,” he offers. He tilts his head, a gesture that strikes you as very dog-like and endearing. “I prefer doing search and rescue in wolfskin, but some people are afraid of dogs. So I approach slowly. I lay down and let them get a good look at me first. It tends to help.” You try to insist that it’s not a problem, you’re not afraid of dogs, but Sawyer just shakes his head. “Come look. It doesn’t bother me. I know I’m a little strange compared to the others.”

Corbin nudges you gently. You resist the first time, more weakly the second. The third soft push sends you a few steps forward. Sawyer doesn’t move, letting you come to him. You’re still nervous but Corbin encourages you with a nod and a grin. “He doesn’t bite. Not unless you’re really good, or really bad.”

“Corbin,” Sawyer says, his tone almost scolding. He’s still not smiling, but maybe that’s just how he is. He looks calm, at least, no longer terse or frustrated. His posture is loose and open, arms at his sides and gaze casually wandering the woods, but his tail is moving faster now. Wagging, like a happy dog. It’s hard not to find him cute. The closer you get, the more details emerge. He has freckles on his shoulders. A habit of leaning, resting all of his weight on one leg or the other. Old scars, mostly on his chest and upper body, a few bald patches in the fur on his arms in jagged stripes. When you’re close enough to touch him, you notice he has scars on his face, too, mostly hidden by his unkempt hair. “You’re from Eastridge,” he says. It doesn’t sound like a question, but you nod. “Corbin says you work at a…nightclub.” He says “nightclub” like it’s a city in a foreign country, some place he’s heard of but never seen.

“Yeah, in the restaurant. I wait tables, nothing fancy.”

“Hm. Sounds unpleasant. Thankless.”

Thankless. Didn’t Corbin use the exact same word when you first met? “It can be sometimes,” you admit.

Sawyer looks at Corbin again. You get the feeling that they’re communicating somehow, sharing an understanding you’re not privy to. “Do you mind if I…greet you?” Sawyer asks. There’s a rasp to his voice that wasn’t there before, some emotion he’s trying to mask. “The traditional way.”

“Uh, I guess that’s fine?” You’ve barely finished speaking when he steps forward. Two long strides and he has you, his thumb on your chin tilting your head to the side. He has to bend slightly to bury his face in the side of your neck. He takes long, audible sniffs and rubs his face into your skin, one cheek and then the other. Your hands are on his shoulders but you don’t push him away because this is familiar, you realize. Corbin does this to you all the time. It’s a little more intense with Sawyer because he wants you as close as possible, right up against him so it’s impossible to ignore the twitching heat of his cock nestled against your abdomen.

Sawyer makes a low, rumbling sound, something between a growl and a purr. “Mm. Hello,” he drawls. He sounds happy, almost intoxicated. He nuzzles into you again with a relieved sigh. “Sorry, again. Hard to tell at a distance. You smell trustworthy.”

It’s such a strange thing to say that you can’t help but laugh. “What does that smell like?” you ask, nervous. Trying to pull away doesn’t get you anywhere. Sawyer’s arms are a vice around you and it’s a struggle just to turn far enough to look back at Corbin for help.

“Like me, basically,” Corbin says. He almost sounds smug.

“Like him,” Sawyer agrees. He cups your face in his large, clawed hands and “greets” you again, cheek to cheek, forehead to forehead. Your heart flutters when he noses along your jaw and under your chin, maneuvering you as he likes. He speaks in a low, steady murmur while he explains. “Some emotions come through, if they’re strong enough. Some intentions. What isn’t there also matters. No wolf blood. No gunpowder. No chemical accelerant. I can tell the difference, you know. Whether you were just filling up your car or if you’ve been…up to something. Especially out here.”

“Gunpowder?” you repeat, startled. “Accelerant? Wh—why—?”

“Hunters.” Corbin is closer than you remember him being. He stands right behind you, rubbing your shoulders. Trying to move away from Sawyer presses you against Corbin instead and he chuckles like you did something cute, nuzzling the back of your head. “The regular kind’s bad enough,” he mutters. “But the worst ones are infiltrators, acting like they want—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Sawyer says sharply. You feel Corbin stiffen behind you. He bows his head meekly, kissing your shoulder. Sawyer takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. He rubs his cheek against yours one more time and then he pulls back far enough to look you in the eye. “It doesn’t matter,” he repeats, his tone softening. “It was nice to meet you. I should…” He trails off. You watch the muscles in his throat tense and bob when he swallows. His gaze lowers to your lips, your neck, your chest. His cock twitches again. You feel it stiffening, filling with blood.

“How do they smell?” Corbin asks. His hands slide down to your hips, fingers kneading their way into the waistband of your pants.

Sawyer grips the back of your neck with sudden firmness. He makes that rumbling sound again in response to your frightened stammering, hushing you softly before he inhales against your throat. “Afraid,” he murmurs. “But not just afraid.” He rocks his hips, grinding his hot, hardening cock against your clothes. There’s not enough room to struggle. Trying to wiggle out from between them just makes them both close in harder, chest to chest with Sawyer while Corbin drapes himself against your back.

“You’re okay,” Corbin coos, his gentle tone completely at odds with how roughly he grabs your wrists and yanks them behind your back. “Shhhh, no, you’re okay. He’s not gonna hurt you.”

Sawyer tilts your head back and makes you look at him. Fight or flight fails you. You freeze in terror. Those haunting black and gold eyes don’t belong to a man but an animal, hungry and about to pounce. “Please let me go,” you beg him, your voice quivering. “Please, please don’t—” His hand wraps around your throat. He doesn’t squeeze. He doesn’t have to. The threat is there, his callused palm resting on your windpipe. Why didn’t you scream earlier? Why aren’t you screaming now? You can hear your own thudding pulse in your temples. “It’s okay,” Corbin whispers. “It’s all okay. You’re safe, and you’re so special and so loved. Do you want him?” You stammer out a refusal, pleas, scared sounds. Corbin chuckles and noses against your ear. “You can be honest. It’s okay if you do. Wolves want us, and we want them. That’s just how it is.”

Sawyer’s trying to undress you. He tugs at your pants but he stops when you make a shrill sound of panic and start to twist and fight. He seizes the back of your neck again, harder this time, and you go completely still when his teeth scrape the tender flesh of your throat.

Corbin takes over for him. He holds both of your wrists in one hand, the other gradually exposing your hips to the cool air. “You’re being so good. That’s it. Deep breaths. He’s not mad at you. He wants you so much.” He’s hard, you realize. Fully hard and throbbing in his pants. Corbin’s breath hitches and he moans softly into your ear, getting off on all of this. “He’s gonna use your thighs,” Corbin whispers, low and excited. He gets your pants down just far enough to expose your sex and the swell of your ass, keeping your legs trapped. “Just your thighs. Don’t be scared. He’s gonna let you feel his knot.”

Sawyer growls. He grabs you by the hips and you feel his cock poking your inner thigh. He drags you into his movements, long, slow thrusts against your sex that make you whine. He’s still growing, still getting harder every time he pushes against you. His fat, flared tip narrows to a point, a pearl of precum beading right on top. He changes his angle to smear it into your skin, rubbing his tip back and forth against your sex until you’re both a sticky mess. His hands slip behind you, between your bare backside and Corbin’s clothed erection, groping your ass and kneading the cheeks apart. He gets your thighs open just enough to slip his cock between them, nestled right under your sex. You feel every inch of him when he moves back and forth. His shaft is long and thick, bulging along the bottom.

You can’t remember when you started holding onto him, when Corbin let your wrists go, but Sawyer growls, “Good,” in a gravelly rumble that sends heat rushing between your legs. The praise startles you, makes your heart race faster. “So good, giving in like this. Your instincts know what to do.” He moves faster, harder. You hear your bodies together, skin to skin, the slap of his balls against your thighs every time your hips meet as if he’s really fucking you, as if you’ve taken him all the way to the base. Your sex throbs. Sawyer pants and grunts and ruts like an animal, needy like he’s been waiting for this all his life. You’re lightheaded with a heady mix of fear, shame and desire. He mouths at your pulse, hungrily lapping at your neck like he can taste how much you want him.

“God, you’re a natural,” Corbin whispers. He’s still touching you, still humping your ass while Sawyer fucks your thighs. When did he get his pants off? You can feel the metal of his open zipper warming on the back of your legs, his cock sandwiched between your cheeks. “That’s it. Don’t think so much, just feel. Move with him. Just like that, sweetheart. You’re right where you’re supposed to be.”

You feel delirious, dizzy and burning. You’re really doing it, grinding back on a stranger, a werewolf, in the middle of the woods. It feels good to let go. To not worry or think or even decide what happens next, letting him guide you, letting Corbin tell you how perfect you are for it. You arch your back, pushing yourself into Sawyer’s steady thrusts and Corbin’s frantic grinding, hearing them both groan appreciatively. There’s something swollen at the base of Sawyer’s cock, an engorged, sensitive bulge that he loves to shove between your thighs and grind back and forth, shaking his hips so you feel just how big it is, hot and pulsing under your sex.

“Squeeze your thighs together,” Sawyer says. His voice is low and broken, more growl than human speech. You do what he asks without hesitation. It feels good to trap his knot right under your sex and feel it throb against you. It feels even better when he hisses “yes, fuck, yes!” and ruts mindlessly, short jackhammering thrusts into the tight warmth of your thighs. “Good, so good. Sweet bunny,” he moans. He buries his face in your neck again, alternating between deep breaths and sloppy kisses with his sharp teeth threatening to break the skin. He says more but you can’t understand him with it all slurred and muffled, sounding like another language entirely.

“Fuck!” Corbin wraps his arms around you when he cums, clutching your waist. He presses against you everywhere he can reach, his chest to your back, his cheek against your shoulder, humping like a rabbit in heat. He babbles and whimpers as his thrusts go from fast and hard to long and trembling, cum splattering your hips and ass and dampening your shirt. “You’re so good, so sweet, want you again, wanna see you on alpha’s knot…” He’s determined to take you over the edge with him, groping and grabbing at you even while he’s still trembling and catching his breath. He nuzzles into your neck on the opposite side from Sawyer, kissing and licking, nipping the lobe of your ear. “You want that? You wanna get stretched on a werewolf knot? There’s nothing else like it. You’d be so fucking full. And our beta’s so big, he’d get nice and deep. You’d be stuffed…” He rubs your stomach. “All the way up to here,” he whispers.

Sawyer swivels his hips again, grinds his knot against your sex one more time, and that’s all it takes. You’re grateful when he surges forward and crushes your lips together, swallowing the embarrassingly loud sounds you make as you buck your hips and ride out your orgasm. You cling to him like you’re drowning, arms around his neck and moaning helplessly into his mouth. His claws dig into your ass and you wonder what this would feel like if those hard, grinding thrusts were inside of you instead, if his length was dragging on your inner walls and his tip was hammering your sweet spot, his knot popping into place. The heat and the friction build to maddening overstimulation and you’re whimpering, begging wordlessly for mercy. His tongue strokes yours and you’re drooling, slack-jawed and fucked senseless from nothing but this frantic, animalistic humping and Corbin’s voice in your ear.

“You’re so cute,” he purrs. “It’s like you already know how to submit. Not so scared now, are you? No, you’re perfect. You’d take a knot so well. Fuck, I knew I was right about you.”

You don’t know when Sawyer cums. You don’t know much of anything but heat and sensation, pleasant friction and painful chafing, Sawyer’s tongue and teeth and claws. Eventually, his knot shrinks. His cock slips out from between your legs and you’re lowered gently to the forest floor, held between two spent, sweaty bodies. You feel sticky and disgusting. Someone strokes your hair and someone squeezes your hip and you aren’t sure who’s doing what, just that they’re there with you.

“Really wish you’d warned me first.” You can feel the vibration of Sawyer’s voice against your skin, a deep rumble.

“If I did that, you’d just run and hide,” Corbin says quietly. One of them kisses the top of your head. “You and Linden have that in common.”

“Watch yourself, hrefn.” The words are playful. They shift around you. You hear a kiss exchanged, a soft sigh. “Are we bringing them up now?”

“No. Gonna do it properly, next time. This was just a test. I had to make sure.”

“Next time?” Sawyer asks, concerned. “I’m not the human expert, but…”

“Well, I am. So trust me.” Corbin reacts immediately when you start squirming, trying to sit up. He helps you, steadying your shoulders. “Hey,” he coos. “Welcome back. Feeling alright?”

You don’t say anything. The reality of what you just did—of what just happened to you—creeps in slowly. He tricked you. Pressured you into this. Kept pushing even when you didn’t want to, even when you were terrified. You tug your pants back on, wincing at all the cum sticking to your skin. Sawyer tries to touch your shoulder and you flinch, leaning away from him. His fingers twitch like he thinks of grabbing you, forcing you to show him your neck again, but he never does. He lowers his hand slowly and you let out a shaky breath. You only let Corbin pull you to your feet because your legs are shaking too badly to stand up alone.

“Let’s get you back to your car,” he says sweetly. Like he didn’t just lure you into the woods to trap you between him and a werewolf. “I’ll be back in a bit, just gonna walk them down the trail.”

“Mhm.” You don’t look at Sawyer but you feel him staring. His gaze burns into your back when you stumble away, clinging reluctantly to Corbin. You look back just once to make sure he doesn’t follow you. The trail is empty. There’s only trees and bushes and fallen leaves. Somehow, you still feel like you’re being watched all the way to the parking lot.

“It was so nice to see you—”

You slam the door in Corbin’s face. He just smiles, stepping back as you hurriedly shove your keys in the ignition. You need to get out of here. Need a shower, need the safety of your home, need to throw a few things in a bag and find somewhere else to stay for a while. Corbin is still standing there at the start of the trail when you start driving. He waves at your rearview mirror and then he walks away. Not into the parking lot, but back up the trail. Into the woods and up the mountain. When he’s gone, all that’s left is the trail kiosk standing sentinel, casting its shadow across the trail.

WOLVES IN THESE WOODS, it says.

#rotpeach writes #meanwolves #sawyer #corbin #this was meant to be about sawyer and his history but the concept is giving me a bit of trouble #so instead here's the next part of the “corbin shopping for a new pack human” saga #will try to salvage the sawyer focused draft some other time because it had a solid start

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