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marvelstoriesepic · 9 days ago

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Like a Phoenix (7)

Pairing: Mercenary!Bucky x Princess!Reader

Series Summary: An attack on your palace thrusts your only hope for survival into the hands of a mercenary who is forced to protect you, all due to a vow he made many years before. Though, those are circumstances neither of you have chosen.

Word Count: 7.7k

Warnings: mentions of murder, fire, death, knives, blood, loss of parents, fever, betrayal; injuries; grief; self-loathing; crying; heavy revelations; tension

Author’s Note: Omg I'm over 50k into this story, I can’t believe it lol. I'm actually proud of myself. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter! ♡

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

The collections of brilliant greens and golden blossoms are spread out before you. The merge of all the wildflowers and herbs is sharp with pine and earth and mint and honey-like. Invigorating.

You kneel on a patch of mossy ground near the campfire. Bucky had lit it the second you got back. The fire is crackling.

Pine needles shimmer faintly with dew, their resinous tang sharp in your nose. Feverfew with its delicate flowers nestle beside clusters of clover blooms, their soft pink petals almost luminous in the flecked sunlight.

Contemplating with what you are going to begin, you run your fingers across goldenrod stems, their tiny mustard-colored buds crumbling slightly under your touch. The medicinal scent of yarrow stands proud among the rest.

The familiar smells and colors again bring echoes of your mother’s voice from the palace gardens. Patient and gentle as she taught you the properties of each plant.

The pale leaves of Lily’s Balm feel waxy on your fingers. They are good for soothing inflamed wounds and drawing out heat from infection. Feverfew against his overheated skin, lowering the fever, its green frilled edges so delicate and lace-like. Wild mint will ease his breathing and calm his body. Clover blooms for their gentle healing abilities. Yarrow and Goldenrod, both strong bases, to slow his bleeding. Wild thyme to cleanse, and pine, sticky with resin, pungent and purifying.

You exhale slowly, deliberately dragging air through your lungs. This is your time to be useful. To actually do something other than dwell in your sorrows and the losses you had to endure.

Bucky is slightly hovering in your line of vision. He is silent. But you don’t like him walking and shuffling around the way he does while the fever sweat hangs onto his brows and the freshly stained blood lingers on his shirt. It makes you queasy. You don’t know if he hid his injury due to oversight or simple stubbornness, but either way, he should not walk around like that.

“You should sit down,” you tell him while beginning to strip the yarrow leaves from their stems.

He doesn’t answer right away, so you glance up. He stands there stubbornly arms crossed over his chest, looking right back at you with a guarded expression. Though he definitely looks paler than he should be. And you avoid looking at the blood stain on purpose.

“M’ fine,” he grumbles, brushing you off. And before you get to an answer, he continues. “Your side,” he counters, voice gravelly. “Let me check it first.”

“I am not the one bleeding.”

His lips purse. “You callin’ me color blind, darlin’? I know what I'm seein’. That’s definitely red there.”

Well, maybe you did bleed through Bucky’s bandage, but that will have to wait.

“We can get to that later.”

Bucky takes a step closer, shadows flickering across his face from the low fire. “Princess-”

“No. Now sit,” you instruct, cutting him off and surprising even yourself with your tone.

Bucky is silent for a beat. You hear him shifting but stay focused on your herbs. “You tellin’ me what to do now, princess?” There is a sparkle of amusement in his voice and in the tug of the corner of his mouth.

Briefly glancing back at him, you meet his eyes with a steadiness you don’t quite feel. “No,” you tell him. “I am telling you I would not know what to do if you passed out.”

He scoffs, clearly offended by the suggestion. “Gonna take more than that to knock me out, darlin’.”

Your lips twitch despite yourself. “Humor me?”

He watches you for a moment longer, eyes narrowing, trying to decide whether to argue further. But then he relents with a low huff, lowering himself onto a flat rock by the fire basically in front of you. The movement is slow and you catch the wince he tries to hide. But he looks more relaxed sitting down.

Satisfied, you turn back to your work. The yarrow leaves are crunched between your fingers. Their pungent smell rises while you release the healing oils from the leaves and add them to a small tin cup filled with clean water from the stream.

The goldenrod comes next. The yellow of the flowers vivid against the darker-turning liquid.

Furrowing your brow slightly, you swirl your head around to look for something that might help you prepare and stir the herbs. And then you remember. Hurriedly, you get up and walk over to the discarded cloak, the one you had laid over Bucky in his sleep. There’s something safely tucked inside that you can use at the moment.

It’s a dagger. It’s not as lengthy as Bucky’s, but it is enough. You took it from the fight. Obviously, it is not the very same one you picked up to throw at Rumlow, because that one is likely still buried in his body, but you found it lying on the ground and picked it up.

You just did not find something useful to do with it. Until now.

You walk back to the herbs and Bucky at the fire.

Since Bucky’s gaze followed you, he catches sight of the blade immediately and looks up at you in surprise. “You kept that?”

Not looking back at him, you settle down and focus on slicing the leaves of Lily’s Balm into thin ribbons. “Didn’t know whether I would have to save your life again,” you quip.

You don’t know where that came from. Perhaps having a real purpose for once is making you regain something akin to confidence.

The sound that follows though, startles you. It’s a laugh. Bucky’s laugh. Sudden and loud and gruff, lifting somewhere far within his chest. It’s so unbridled, stemming from surprise. And it is utterly captivating. It makes your hands halt. Never have you heard him laugh before. Really laugh. Not like this. You are entranced. The sound floats for a while and you never want it to stop. It makes his voice to a soft glow of mirth.

You stare at him, half amazed, half in disbelief.

But he isn’t even looking at you. His head is tilted to the ground, shaking. He’s still chuckling to himself. Lips pulled into a wide grin. “Aren’t you full of surprises, darlin’.”

You watch him for a few seconds longer. The corners of your mouth lift and there is nothing you can do to stop them. “I am glad that this is entertaining for you.”

Turning back to the leaves, you try to calm the fast pace of your heart. The blade slices cleanly through the stems and leaves. But you can’t really focus on that. The shake of Bucky’s shoulders in a silent laugh catches your vision. His laughter keeps ringing in your mind. And you still want to hear it again.

Pine resin is sticky on your skin, the sap gleaming amber in the sunlight. You crush the prepared leaves into the dark liquor and mix it into a fine paste, adding the pine resin to create a thick, fragrant balm. The yarrow adds a cooling element, its sharp scent cutting through the heavier tones. It is perfect to stop the bleeding and prevent infection.

You take a quick glance over at Bucky. His head is bowed, forearms resting on his knees, but his eyes are fixed on you, sharp despite his fever. There is something quiet in the way he watches you. Astonishment. Curiosity.

“Where did you learn that?” he speaks up quietly, as if using a normal voice would disturb something intimate. There is something about the way he uses his voice and winds his tone, that almost makes you believe he is admiring what you are doing. As if this is a wonder.

You don’t look up at him, hoping he won’t notice the slight flinch in your fingers. Or the pang in your chest. “My mother taught me.” Your voice is even quieter than his has been.

He doesn’t say more. Perhaps he doesn’t even have to see the pang in your chest. He heard it in your voice.

You start the second tincture, the one for him to drink. Feverfew, wild thyme, clover blooms, and wild mint. Combined they will help ease his fever and cleanse his body.

Your hands almost move on their own, preparing the leaves. On instinct. It feels unexpected. But it makes you realize just how important those moments with your mother really were to you. And now they turn so monumental, it makes your chest close in on itself. You carry this from your old world. Something useful. Something that has survived of her even if everything else now lays in ruins.

Your breath trembles on the cusp of grief. But you get a hold of it.

Another glance over at Bucky makes something cold skate down your back, leaving a trail of tension.

Sweat accumulates again on his forehead despite the coolness of the forest. His lips are pressed together. The bloodstain on his right shoulder has again spread further than you hoped, darkening the brown leather of his armor. His fever is climbing. That’s not good.

You rush through the second tincture, mixing everything in water again and heating it over the fire at the same time. The liquor is thick and green with a sharp scent. Carefully, you pour it into another small tin cup, making sure it’s not too hot for him to drink.

Rising, you cross the short distance to him and crouch down again.

“What’s that?” Bucky asks immediately, eying it warily.

“It will help you relax and lower the fever,” you assure him gently. “Drink it.”

He leans forward slightly, skepticism written all over his face. He grimaces faintly at the smell and you have to hold back an amused smile. For a man like him, he surely acts like a diva.

“You sure you’re not tryin’a poison me, darlin’?” he drawls, humor winding through his words. However, if you’re not wrong, you can detect a hint of nervousness.

It makes your heart sink but you manage to play lightly, rolling your eyes. “You are the reason I am alive, so I am pretty sure poisoning you would be counterproductive.”

His brows inch upward as he looks at you with an unreadable, but intense expression. With a deep sigh, he then takes the cup from your hands and downs it in one swift motion. His face twists with disgust and he swipes the back of his hand against his lips, releasing a cough. “Tastes like dirt,” he rasps.

Biting back a smile, you get up to retrieve the balm for his wound. “I think you will live.”

You watch him set down the cup with a heavy sigh, the lines of his face softening.

“You don’t gotta do this, darlin’.”

“You have done it for me,” you retort, walking back over to him and kneeling down. This time with the tin cup holding the balm for his wound.

Bucky lets out a breathless laugh, shaking his head at your stubbornness. He watches you with intrigued eyes. But there still is that nervousness surrounding him.

“Let me see,” you request, almost timidly, but willing strength into your voice.

He shifts where he sits on the rock, clearly uncomfortable with the request. His jaw is hard. Muscles are tense beneath the bloodied remains of his shirt.

“You are still bleeding,” you acknowledge more firmly. “Take it off.”

His brows rise at your sudden authority, but there is amusement in the motion. A smirk curves his lips despite himself. He doesn’t make a move to do what you say though.

“Gettin’ a little too bossy there, for my likin’, princess,” he teases, each word dripping with sly delight.

“Bucky.” Your tone turns soft again, but your resolve remains firm. His shoulder is worrying you. “Please.”

After a tense moment of quiet, he drags out a long and sharp breath through his nose and straightens up. With a grimace, he slowly shrugs off his brown armor. His shirt underneath is sticking to his torso, dark with sweat and dried but also fresh blood.

You swallow hard as he peels the fabric away from his shoulder, revealing a part of the wound he’s been keeping to himself.

The gash extends out from his shoulder and dips slightly towards his upper chest. It’s an arc of torn and angry flesh. A mass of swelling blood crusts around the edges under a layer of sweat, laying a dreary tapestry of red and brown on the skin below. It looks puckered and bumpy, suggesting that the blade that pierced him must have been of serrated or distorted nature upon impact.

You might have stared at it a second too long because Bucky lets out an uncomfortable cough.

“Lucky swing,” he says tersely, to make this a little less awkward. It does not quite work out, because now you are staring at his face oddly. To you, this does not look like someone got lucky, considering the fact that the man responsible for this is dead now and Bucky has to carry this around.

But what snaps your attention back to the wound is the heat you feel radiating off it. And it confirms what you already suspected - infection is setting in. The skin around the wound is inflamed, making it glisten ominously.

However, what makes your hands tremble lightly in discomfort is the fact that you won’t be able to access every part of that gash with his shirt on.

“You, uhm-” you start nervously, unsure of how he will react. “I am going to need you to take your shirt off as well.”

He stares at you.

“I will not be able to reach everything like this,” you explain, still timid.

He sighs, dropping his head a fraction, before slowly starting to peel his shirt off. He winces with the movements of his arms, fabric tugging against drying blood.

The full extent of his wound looks even uglier. You try your best to ignore the pale lines of violence scattered across his skin, especially his other shoulder - the scars you caught glimpses of at the river. Your gaze quickly moves to the flesh injury.

You don’t want him to feel uncomfortable. Well, not more than he already seems to be.

“Lean back for me,” you instruct, not wanting to waste more time, but keeping your voice kind.

There definitely is something surreal about telling Bucky what to do. You’ve been doing that basically your whole life - giving instructions and following the ones you’ve been told by people higher than you - but with Bucky, it feels different. The words taste odd in your mouth.

Bucky hesitates. His lips press into a thin line and he eyes the tin cup gloomily. He looks as though he might argue but then he thinks better of it. Reluctantly, he shifts his weight and braces himself against a tree behind him.

You dip your fingers into the balm, the cool, thick paste sticking to your skin. Bucky watches you, his whole body full of tension. A tremor passes through his throat as he forces a breath past the lump there.

He is not used to this. To being cared for in this way, to having someone’s full attention on his pain. That much is clear.

“This might sting,” you warn, voice quiet.

He grunts.

Steeling yourself, you let your hand hover over his shoulder. “Are you ready?”

He grunts again, giving you a tight nod. You try to ignore the way he watches you. He seems to be bracing for more than the sting of the tincture.

Warming the balm between your fingers, you press it gently against the torn flesh. The scent of the wild herbs is strong in the air.

Bucky goes incredibly rigid. His breath hitches sharply. His eyes flash for a fraction of a second before settling into a void you can’t decode.

Even the forest around you seems quieter while you spread the self-made lotion on his shoulder. You are precise in your sweeps, careful not to meet any of his skin that doesn’t need your touch.

The more you work, the steadier he gets. He doesn’t make a sound, but the discomfort doesn’t entirely leave his body. Discomfort of pain or vulnerability, you can’t tell. Probably both. His hands are clenched into loose fists at his sides. But you do notice the few relieved sighs he lets slip unintentionally after a few swipes over his skin.

The wound resists at first, but you move your fingers with patience and caution, in even strokes. Quickly, the ointment begins to calm the irritated areas, drawing out some of the heat.

Bucky’s chest rises in a deep inhale against your fingers and you avoid the almost magnetic pull his piercing eyes have on you. He watches you so intently, all you can do is to keep your gaze on your task and resist whatever heat simmers in his stare.

The herbs already seem to ease the swelling a little bit and you are confident that they will stave off the infection. It makes you breathe easier, despite the intimacy of your current situation. You’re so close to him, asking so much of him, and with every careful sweep across his torn skin, you are getting more aware of it.

Then, without warning, one of his hands reaches up and wraps around your wrist gently. Making you still mid-motion.

“Stop,” he says quietly, his voice rough but not unkind.

You freeze startled, blinking at him. “What?”

“Keep some of that for yourself,” he insists, slowly pulling your hand away from his shoulder. “You need it.”

You take a moment to consider what he even means. Then, you shake your head. “I do not-”

“You don’t wanna argue with me, darlin’. Keep the rest for yourself,” he repeats, more sternly this time. His eyes darken into something bordering on concern.

You stare at him. And then you don’t. Eyes going to his now-covered wound, and the tin cup in your hand that still holds some of the paste you made.

Biting pressure makes your heart seem to seize.

You didn’t even consider using the balm for yourself. Your side is still stinging. The bandage is still red with blood. But you did not spare it a single thought. Did not think about caring for it in the way you did for Bucky’s wound.

Every leaf, every petal, every drop of resin has been meant for him. The idea of keeping any for your own wound has never so much as crossed your mind. You haven’t thought about it consciously, but now it is glaringly obvious. You would use every last drop of the balm for him without hesitation. There’s something wrong about that, something you dislike confessing even to yourself.

Bucky is still watching you with his brows drawn together. He nods toward the tin cup in your hand but keeps his eyes on you. “If you knew how to do that the whole time, then why don’t do it earlier? For yourself?”

You take a pause. His hand is still warm around your wrist, basically lying on his lap. Sharp eyes are gauging your reaction.

“I just- It did not come to my mind,” you admit, shaking your head dismissively. “But it is of little consequence now.”

His expression is hard. Not the kind of hard you knew his features to hold when you met him. It’s not meant for you directly. But it still is there because of you, because of the way you think. His jaw shifts, muscles moving in tense vibrations, grappling with words he isn’t sure he should say. “That’s bullshit,” he voices with a stiffness in his tone.

The blunt language of this man is an insult on its own. But the meaning of his words still hit you.

A shaky breath falls from your lips.

Never once have you thought of soothing the pain of your own conscience or making a balm for yourself.

Your side has ached, the wound pulsing and throbbing and hurting, but it faded to insignificance as soon as you saw the streaks of sweat trickling from him and the blood blooming across his shirt. Every instinct has driven you to help him.

And why? Because you somehow deserve the agony, don’t you? The thought is bitter in your chest. You don’t believe you deserve the care, the relief of healing herbs, the preservation of your own body.

You haven’t been of use to him, needing his protection at every waking moment. You killed a man. You failed to stay out of harm’s way like Bucky had told you to. That’s what got you injured in the first place. Stupid girl.

It is shameful to think of how invulnerable you have thought him to be. You relied on him so utterly, so selfishly, leaned on him without a care in the world, and laid all your troubles upon his already burdened shoulders. How many times did you assume he is untouchable, indestructible? And now here he is, bleeding, just like everybody else, and keeping it to himself. Because you haven’t been enough.

This is your fault. You relied on him too much, demanded too much, not even considering the toll.

Darkness engulfs those thoughts.

Your throat feels bound. Your heart works in stuttered pauses. Breathing doesn’t feel like relief. Swallowing doesn’t drag down the tide of self-loathing making its way up your spine.

Bucky’s thumb brushes against your pulse and it snaps your attention right back to him. You pull away from his hold and he releases your wrist immediately. Though his hand retreats to his side rather slowly.

“Whatever you’re thinkin’, don’t” he states rather calmly but somehow still so intensely. His voice is so low it seems to be scraping against something hard.

You meet his eyes then. They are insistent. Resolved. Sharp. They make you attempt another try to gulp down the knot in your throat but it doesn’t work.

“What?” you ask weakly.

His persistent eyes remain fixed on you. “I know that look. Stop it.”

A choking sensation cinches tight around your throat. It is strangling and stifling and makes you want to turn away. But he somehow manages to keep you on the spot.

“I-”

“Don’t,” repeats, softer this time. His hand twitches at his side and he takes a quick glance at the quiver in your own fingers. “This isn’t on you, got it?” His voice is rough with conviction, so fierce.

His gaze still is so relentlessly focused on you to get his point across.

It makes you want to vomit. His words push against the very flimsy barrier of defenses that you have constructed around your guilt. He sees right through it. His gaze makes it see-through. Ineffective. Worthless. Fruitless. Just like how you feel.

“It is not about that,” you try to defend yourself, but it comes out with a frail voice.

“Yeah, it is,” he maintains. “Whatever you’re punishin’ yourself for. Stop. It ain’t gonna get you nowhere.”

The tension in your shoulders doesn’t fully ebb, but something grows warmer around you.

Letting out a long, reluctant sigh, you let your shoulders slump with surrender. Bucky’s gaze softens, something like gratitude crossing his face.

“Thank you, darlin’,” he says quietly, his voice sincere and grounding. “For this.” There is no bravado, just a genuine gratefulness.

You shake your head, heat flooding your features. Your knees ache when you shift and the pain in your side kicks in again.

Bucky stands up slowly and his expression shifts, something resolute settling in his features. “Now,” he announces. “Let me help you with that.”

You blink, thrown off by the sudden change in his tone.

“You don’t-”

He cuts you off with a raised brow and a gesture that brings back his commanding nature. “Sit down,” he orders, pointing you to the stone he sat on moments before. “And better do it now. Because that’s not lookin’ too good.” He throws a concerned look at the tear in your dress that reveals the bloodied dressing he put on.

You open your mouth but his eyes are authoritative enough. You stand up, only to reluctantly sit down again on the very same rock he’s been sitting on. You calculate your movements, to not show him how painful it actually is.

“You always interrupt me. That is not very nice,” you exclaime, perhaps to make his attention on you waver, or just to throw him off with another topic and distract you or him from what he is going to do. Or maybe you should really be annoyed at the way he doesn’t let you finish speaking. But somehow him constantly interrupting you even feels endearing in some kind of way you can’t explain, considering the fact that he only ever does it when he knows he won’t like the words coming from your mouth. Maybe because you tend to talk yourself small.

Bucky’s lips quirk into that maddeningly amused smirk as he takes the tin cup out of your hands. “Not used to people interruptin’ you, princess?” The title carries no cruelty, only an enjoyable warmth that causes a tingling sensation on your skin.

You huff. “Well, I am getting used to it now,” you grumble.

And there it is again. The sound that has caught you off guard before. That laugh. Full-bodied, sonorous, and so utterly disarming in its power over you. It makes its way into your chest. His head is tipped slightly backward, exposing faint laugh lines at the corners of his eyes.

You find yourself staring breathlessly. It’s a sound so human, so rare, so special, that you wish you could bottle it up and keep it safe.

You’re mesmerized by the perfect way his teeth are gleaming at his wide grin.

He catches your gaze and you quickly avert your own, neck turning hot.

Bucky shakes his head, an amused look on his face he obviously tries to stifle. “Come on. You made me listen. Now it’s your turn.”

You sigh, while Bucky moves closer to you in a crouched position. His eyes move to your side and his expression shifts to something far more serious.

“Let me see,” he orders, tone gentle, but somehow not meant to go against it.

The weariness in your body wins out. Or rather, his voice wins out. You pull apart the torn pieces of your dress to give him enough access to the makeshift bandage wrapped around your side. His brow furrows as he takes it in.

“You should’ve said somethin’,” he mutters, seemingly more to himself somehow.

“I was otherwise occupied.”

He snorts, clearly unimpressed with your lame excuse. “Bein’ the stubborn girl you are.”

“Do you feel a change yet? Is the fever going down?”you inquire after a beat.

“You tryin’a distract me, princess?” he hums with amusement. His lip tugs upward lightly.

“I might.” You guess, you can't directly tell him you're genuinely concerned about whether he's feeling any better yet. He certainly appears better, however. He ceased sweating, his eyes are focused and his actions are more precise than before. It causes you to inhale deeply. A sigh that is full of relief.

Bucky breathes out a small laugh. “Don’t know what it is that you did there exactly, but it worked,” he acknowledges with a lighter voice. There is something like disbelief in his tone. Delight. Appreciation. That tiny hint of admiration that seems grow an inch or two.

You watch him carefully remove the fabric around your wound, to look at the injury beneath it. His brows immediately cease together tightly. Tension draws along the lines of his face, knotting his jaw. His face is hard again.

He doesn’t waste time, dipping his fingers into the salve you prepared, the thick paste now covering his calloused fingertips. His other hand brushes against your soft skin as he rather unnecessarily helps you peel back the fabric of your dress on your side.

His other hand moves to your gash so slowly, reverent almost. The first touch to your wound makes you hiss through your teeth and he lets you adjust to the feeling before spreading it around gingerly.

Blue eyes glance up to your face, watching closely for any sign of discomfort as his fingers move over your side, slowing his pace, when he sees your brows twitch, and your breath hitch.

The light of the day shimmers faintly against the angry red margins of your wound getting deliberately covered by the dark paste.

The trail of the many intertwined scents goes for your nose, mingling with faint metallic tangs of blood.

The mixture tingles against your skin, cooling and soothing the angry redness.

It’s a distraction from the fact that he hasn’t bothered to put his shirt back on.

He’s still shirtless.

The forest air kisses bare flesh. The light brings a glimmer of sweat to stand out like bronze, bringing to life the scars and distortions of his muscles. You try and tear your gaze away, dizzy with heat as it spreads over your neck and cheeks, but curiosity is what pulls your eyes back.

He is so very close in front of you. You basically see everything. Each of those lines across his naked chest and shoulders has its own tale you are sure you will never be told. You look away again, but your gaze goes hopping back.

He’s so mesmerizing in every way. He was bleeding in front of you just a moment before, but he still looks so strong. So bulky, despite the fact that he can’t eat much out here and keep his muscles trained because he has to keep an eye on you.

“You’re starin’,” he remarks quietly, not looking up. Fixed on applying the ointment.

The next beat of your heart skips. “I was not-”

“You were,” he confirms, though his tone isn’t accusing. It’s rather light. Lighter than you would have imagined. Amusement underlines his statement.

You bite your cheek, seeking to say something. “I was just thinking,” you mumble, half-heartedly attempting a defense.

“That right?” Soft and subtle humor winds around his tone. He doesn’t glance up, still thoroughly smearing more of the balm over your skin, respecting your reactions. Concentration on his features.

Silence hangs in the air, only interrupted by the rustle of clumps of leaves and a softly wafting breeze.

You hesitate. Your heart gallops in your ears. You tentatively nod at the tin cup in his hand. “Maybe this might help with your scars?” you ask, voice so soft, they almost turn into a whisper. Your fingers are clammy. It’s a feeble question.

Bucky’s hand stills. For a moment, you think he might pull away, but he does not. His finger continues to sweep but a shadow of thought passes over his face. It is not hostile. Not repelling. Just contemplative. Maybe a little surprised.

Then, there is a faint shake of his head. “They don’t hurt anymore,” he says finally. There is a subtle thickness to his voice. But he seems to have control over it.

“We could try,” you say quietly, almost in a hopeful way. So full of good intention, it makes Bucky freeze again.

He huffs out a tiny and gasping laugh. It reaches your collarbone, grazing it faintly. His head drops as though it has become too heavy for him momentarily.

“It won’t work, darlin’.” He says it so softly. Carrying an almost apologetic tone, sympathy wringing his voice dry. His thumb lightly swipes over your skin right above where the wound sits as if it is you who needs the grounding.

Your eyes move to the forest floor. There is a stillness in the air between you, unsaid things hovering in the void. The only sound is the fire crackling undisturbed.

The balm is starting to cover your wound, fragrant with mint and resin, its healing properties also somehow meant for wounds deeper than skin.

The firelight dances across his scars, making them look almost alive. Like memories etched too deep to fade.

Timidly, your quiet voice breaks the silence. “How long?”

Bucky’s brows twitch further together, lips pressing into a thin line. He watches his fingers move over your skin. You see the glimmer of reluctance in his eyes, the internal debate waging behind them.

You immediately regret asking. “You do not have to answer that,” you rush to say. “I apologize for asking.”

He exhales slowly, a sigh heavy with something unnamable rising and falling with his chest. After a long, deliberate pause, his voice is almost indifferent. “Five years.”

The simple answer hits you harder than expected. Five years. A timeline begins forming in your mind, grim shadows stretching across those years - the kind of scars that can’t always be seen.

Your back tightens as a cold shiver winds through you.

Five years. You find it hard to process. Five years of carrying whatever - whoever - has carved those scars into his body.

“You were a soldier,” you express quietly, voice so small, almost fragile.

His eyes are detached when he nods once. It’s a simple gesture and yet so complex. “I was.” His voice is clipped, but not harsh. He lets out a sound resembling a cough.

You needed the confirmation. Needed to hear it from his own lips. It solidified something inside you.

You feel your breath grow shallow, thoughts going into a haze. You have heard the bitterness in his voice whenever your father was mentioned, words tinged with disdain. He didn’t hide his contempt. He even let it out on you. But it begins to take shape. Those scars. The way he no longer claims the title of soldier as if that privilege was taken from him along with something far more precious.

He still carries himself with that form of discipline, even when standing still. Always ready for the next hit to strike. But he tried to shrug off the remnants of that past as a soldier - a soldier in your father’s army, no less.

Something has happened. Something shattering. Something traumatic.

A shiver of unease crawls along your spine, prickling every nerve.

Your father always held you to impossible standards. His love was a conditional thing that you were forever grasping to earn. He has always been a man of authority, his word was a law, and his decisions were never questioned. But there were cracks in that facade, fractures that you have chosen to ignore a long time ago. And now, those cracks are gaping, yawning wide, and you are meant to fall into them.

Your gaze falls back to the marks on his shoulder. Throat feeling constricted.

“Did my father have a hand in that?” Your voice is wavering. Anxiety gnaws at your chest, each heartbeat heavy with dread.

Bucky’s gaze lifts to you. He looks you in the eyes so intensely. Whatever he’s thinking remains locked behind his gaze, hidden from reach. But he seems to be contemplating whether to shield you from the truth.

“Yes,” he admits then, the single word falling like a stone into the silence.

It struck you with breathtaking force. The earth seems to have slipped beneath your feet and the world tilts, causing a sudden strain in your chest with the awareness that came.

You want to deny it. You want to argue that your father wasn’t capable of such treachery. But deep down, you know better. The cracks have always been there. Carefully tucked behind his walls.

Your throat is a clenched fist, made of muscle, gripping hard against the swell of emotion threatening to rise. Every breath that tries making it up your throat is only getting squeezed out by that fist.

Tears are gathering behind your eyes, the sting of them uncomfortable.

Bucky watches you. He is gauging your reaction with a poignant gentleness - not cruel, not gloating. Just honest. His expression softens, guilt shadowing his features as he takes in your reaction. He clearly does not revel in your heartbreak. It’s clear he regrets having to say it.

You fidget with your fingers. It takes Bucky finishing attending to your wound - smearing the last bit of the balm onto it and dressing it again - until you get a hold of your voice again.

“What happened?” Your voice cracks. Part of you wants to withdraw the question, fearing what he might answer. Or if he even will.

He sighs again. A hand moves to slide over his face as he sits back down, keeping the tin cup in his hand. His forearms lean on his knees, head tilted to the ground. He stays like that for a little while.

He only lifts his head for a second to see the shake in your hands.

“We were in battle. Rumlow and his men went behind our backs. Slaughtered every standin’ soldier. Got me real good, but I wasn’t quite dead. Learned to stay real quiet. Lyin’ on the ground, and all.” He huffs out a humorless laugh. He can’t meet your eyes.

You don’t know if you’re still breathing. It feels like you aren’t.

Your hands clench instinctively, grasping for something that might steady you, but the air only offers shifting shadows.

“And my father-” you choke on a swallow. “He-”

Bucky nods once, sharp and terse. His jaw locks, bracing for words he’d rather not say. “He covered it up.”

An intense pain builds in your heart, burning through the last traces of your faith in the man who has raised you.

The muscles in your face are trembling and there is that stubborn pulse inside your chest where that sob you won’t release tries to carve its way free.

Your father had a hand in Bucky’s pain.

Not just the scars on Bucky’s body, but the ones that run far deeper, the ones so deeply embedded into his very being. A soldier, abandoned by the kingdom he served, betrayed by the very man who should have protected him. Betrayed by the very man whose daughter he’s now been forced to protect. It is such a cruel irony, you can’t breath.

You feel like the air is trying to choke you. Gravity itself seems to conspire against you, pulling you down into the earth’s depths where the air is thin and hope does not exist. It slips between your lungs before it can soothe you.

A picture forms you haven’t dared to assemble until now.

And it makes tears well in your eyes. Pain stabbing and stabbing and stabbing your heart to death. You blink furiously, unwilling to let them fall. You can’t look at him. Not even closely.

Bucky told you about his mother and sister. He told you that your mother sent them away for their own safety. But he didn’t tell you why they were in danger in the first place.

Now you understand.

Your heart races, seeming to try and outrun the collapse of your world. It hammers against your ribs like fists on a locked door. The more it hammers, the more chaotic it gets, beating to the tempo of misery.

“No,” you whisper, lips wobbling. Tears cling to your lashes. Your chest heaves with the effort to breathe through the pain.

Bucky’s brows are deeply furrowed. His eyes never left you, teeth grinding together. His features are full of a struggle he tries to break out of.

Bucky Barnes was a soldier, abandoned by the kingdom he served, betrayed by the very man who should have protected him. And worse, threatened into silence by the safety of his family.

“No,” you repeat, the word a single quiver. “Your mother, and- and your sister-”

Bucky’s head drops. His hand moves over his hair. His breath leaves him with a harsh, strained sound.

Your father has threatened them, using their lives as leverage to keep Bucky silent about whatever horrors he had endured. Because exposing the truth would have cost Bucky everything he held dear.

Bucky’s eyes are the confirmation of what you are already puzzling together.

And you can’t look at him any longer. A choking sound leaves you. Your gaze moves to the flames of the fire lazily flickering upwards into the sky. The heat sears in your eyes but you don’t look away.

If you weren’t sitting already, you’d be lying on the ground by now. Your muscles are unsure whether to hold firm or buckle under the pressure. A tremor starts in your knees, making its way upward like a warning your body already understands.

How could the man you once idolized be capable of such cruelty? And how has Bucky borne it all, carrying all of this silently, without breaking?

Shame prickles under your ribs, seeping through every breath. It’s like a slow erosion happening inside you. A sense that you are both too much and never enough. You burn, consumed by something that leaves no smoke but scars all the same. Each breath fans the flames. No matter how full or brittle.

Bucky’s eyes burn you down and you can’t help but meet them again.

His face is softened in a way you’ve never seen before - not even in those rare moments when his walls seemed to crumble just enough for something warmer. There are shadows in those blues but they lock onto yours with a gentleness that has your muscles trembling.

A tear slips from the corner of your eye and you swipe at it hurriedly. You try desperately to pull your thoughts together, but there is nothing left to be done. The dam has already burst. A sob leaves you.

Another tear follows, streaking down your cheek, hot and bitter, filled with all the hurt that has just been released between you.

“Hey,” Bucky says quietly, a gritted note in his voice full of kindness. “No.”

A large, calloused hand cups your face, his thumb swiping the damp trail across your cheekbone.

The unexpected tenderness makes your breath quake, and more shame creeps onto your skin for having allowed yourself to shatter in the open.

“C’mon don’t do that,” he murmurs under his breath. He sounds pained by the sight of you. The sight of your tears. Again. Like something in him is crying out for an answer to your broken heart.

He leans closer, shifting on the dirty ground, to brush his other hand gently against the side of your jaw, framing your face between rough palms. His palms feel warm in contrast to the hot current running through your body, but he holds on steadily.

Bucky tilts your chin enough for you to meet his gaze, blue irises that grapple with guilt, but also something more subdued. Something soft and real you aren’t sure you even earned from him.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart. Please,” he pleads near a whisper and it rips something off inside you.

The pain in your heart only seems to get stronger. You want to claim him wrong, that if anyone should rightfully feel grief or tears for the pain they carry, it is him. But the words refuse to leave your throat. All that comes is a strangled sound, a whimper, a sob, followed by a few more sweltering tears.

His thumbs continue to diligently brush your cheeks once more, painstakingly slow as if erasing the evidence of your hurt could undo it altogether.

“I mean it, darlin’,” he implores quietly. His voice is still rough. “Don’t.”

It does not feel easy though. You just found out how much has been robbed from him, how your father has contributed to it all, the man who has loomed over your life like a shadow not easily warded off with a single light. The personification of cold judgment.

And still, Bucky is softhearted and steady-eyed against your breaking moment, offering kindness and comfort.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper thickly. “I am so sorry.” Your voice is fractured. It feels inadequate. Hollow. Not enough.

Bucky’s thumbs rest against your temples as if trying to reground you.

He bites down hard on a slightly trembling lip, the muscle in his cheek standing out sharply. For a moment, his eyes seem to look for a distraction somewhere far away, somewhere only he can see.

When they return to you, there is a pool of his own apology shimmering within them, deep enough to drown in.

He releases a gruff breath. “Not on you. This is not your fault, Y/n.” His voice is firm but also breaking with a sorrow he can’t fully express. “Wasn’t exactly easy on you,” he says lowly, gravelly. He clears his throat. “I was wrong. About you.”

You shake your head, still wedged between his hands. Your lips are wobbling, your voice in cracks. “You had every right.”

“No.” His voice is resolute. Tension pulls at his jaw. His brows almost meet each other. He shakes his head, letting his hands slide into your hair. “I didn’t.”

You sniffle. A harsh, wavering breath falls from your lips. A sob crawls up your spine. “I do not blame you for hating me.”

Bucky’s hands against your face go still. They stiffen. He even seems to flinch ever so faintly and it makes you look at him briefly. He bites back a dry swallow as if something wedged there might never leave. Something urgent pulls at his jaw, making it tick.

“I don’t hate you,” he leans his head in, looking you directly in the eyes. “Don’t hate you, princess. Alright? Don’t think that. God, please don’t think that.”

Your hands are still shaking in your lap and Bucky’s own hands fall from your face for an instant so he can trail the pads of his fingers along your wrist.

“I’m the one bein’ sorry, sweetheart.” His voice falters, a huskiness catching in his tone.

Your chest is swollen from the hard work of breathing against its pressure, while new tears still threaten to slip out of the corners of your eyes. But Bucky stays close. Still kneeling right in front of you.

“Look at me, please.”

You do, although your tears blur your vision.

“I’ll say it again,” he murmurs, swallowing dryly. “Please don’t cry, darlin’. Don’t cry.”

His eyes hold the pain he is too broken to voice.

“Yes, you will rise from the ashes, but the burning comes first. For this part, darling, you must be brave.”

- Kalen Dion

Part eight

Taglist: @cjand10 @unaxv @bellamoret @singsosworld @mrsnikstan @melsunshine @hawkinsavclub1983 @homiesexual-or-homosexual @vvs-dlxodyd

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fireheartpages · 2 months ago

Text

enough | b.d.

bodhi durran x reader chapter three. series masterlist summary: everyone has their demons, you just chose to run from yours. straight to basgiath war college. and definitely not towards the grinning tall, dark, and handsome marked rider that seemed too kind to be in a hardened place like the rider's quadrant. leave it to you to catch his attention, but will it be enough to bond a dragon? word count: 2.2k notes: second person pov with she/her pronouns for the reader, as well as a dirty-dancing inspired stolen nickname and a last name (no y/n in this house). pretty sure i've just started making shit up about the empyrean universe when i needed to. i want a dragon real bad after writing this. half of this was written while wine drunk!

He owed Ané his first born after that balm. And he might just have to give it to her, because the soft smile that had bloomed on your face had been worth every coin he'd owed Ané. Every last one.

It had been two days now, and he hoped it had been enough for you. Enough to heal your hands, at least just a little bit. Enough to get you bonded to a dragon.

He looks for you on the field, but your squad isn't here. Yet. You would come. They can't be missing a while squad. Right?

Right. He felt like an idiot with the way he had panicked.

"You're acting like one," Cuir chimes in helpfully. Bodhi just sighs.

Professionalism is key right now. He can't spare a second glance at you right now. He's an acting Executive Officer, and it's an important day in formation--

You look really pretty. Your hair is braided back, and the way your flight leathers cling to your figure--

"Seriously?"

Bodhi just sighs, and settles in for a long day.

You rub Ridoc's back as he empties his stomach onto the roots of the tree beside you, grateful for the stomach of steel years of being tossed around on choppy waters had granted you. The warmth of the sun did nothing to bite the cold of the morning, the freshly October air sharp against your skin.

You hand Ridoc a water canteen as you try to pay attention to Kaori at the front, but maybe you're hallucinating because there is no way he just told you to listen to your heart while bonding a dragon. That cannot be enough. That cannot be real advice.

It's not long and far too soon before the professor offers you good luck and turns away, releasing you to a riot of dragons that could have every intention of eating you alive rather than bonding you. Second squad turns to one another, no more wise cracks or well wishes left to say. With a stay alive order from Ridoc, you're off. And then you're traipsing through the valley, and honestly, just hoping for the best.

You pass by a few reds--terrifying fucking things, and if there were any room for doubt, you'd be thinking you're not cut out for this. There's no way you can be allied with something that vicious.

An orange and a brown both stop in front of you, and the brown cocks its head as if you're a puzzle it needs to solve. Not that one, you realize. Neither of them. Your gaze stays glued to the floor the entire time, and it's far too long for your liking before they both meander away.

It's a few deep breaths before you're steady enough to continue on.

The only color left for you to see is a green, and you know--you just know one will be yours. Or maybe you really want it. You want a dragon with cunning. A green is your best bet.

Another brown crosses near you, and your heart picks up again. It's followed by a green, and you freeze. This is it, this--

They both pass right by you.

Oh. Okay. No problem, yeah. It's just not that green.

You've got to keep moving. There are more, and you know it, because you haven't bonded yet. You've watched dragons launch into the sky with newly minted riders on their back, counting how many are off. How many are left. It's only an hour and a half in, and already you've seen close to twenty riders emerge.

That leaves just over eighty dragons to bond. Yours is out there, you know it. Can practically sense it, feel it in--

Okay, maybe Kaori had a point.

You just had to keep going so they could find you.

Through the trees, you saw four greens, a brown, and two reds. You were about to make your way to them when he materialized on the edges of your vision.

Second- and third-years weren't supposed to interfere with Threshing, but were there any rules about interacting? From the way he was looking at you, open and expectant, you had to assume not.

You came to a stop, turning to look at him, and when your gazes locked, it felt like the world around you stilled.

"Hi," he says.

"Hi," you say.

"Hi," he repeats, and he's grinning, except one side of his mouth is just a little higher than the other, as if some invisible force had strung it up and tugged. You wanted to run your thumb over his lips and smooth it out. See just how pretty those big brown eyes were when they were focused on you all up close and personal.

Oh, no, that's not--

"You're still out here, so I assume it's not going well, but I'm gonna ask anyway." That grin widens, his eyes dancing, and you have to take a deep breath before you can respond.

"I feel it. Something. I don't know what, but--" You bring a hand to your chest, the way Kaori had. "Here."

"Yeah," Bodhi breathes. "They have their eye set on you before you even know it sometimes."

"Is that how it was for you?" you ask, and you have no idea why you do. You're wasting valuable time standing here chit-chatting. You're not even supposed to clump up. This boy is going to get you incinerated.

You eagerly wait for his reply.

"Yeah," he says. "Cuir knew before I did. I don't think I was out here more than an hour before we found each other."

You nod.

"I got lucky. Imogen was out here all day. I think Glenn wanted to fuck with her a little." He laughs, and you falter, unable to suppress the smile that weasels its way across your lips.

"That's rather unfortunate," you say on the tail of a laugh, and suddenly Bodhi's staring at you in a way you can't discern.

He rubs his palm along his jaw and you chance a step towards him.

"Having a..." You trail off, unsure if you should ask. How stupid can you sound while actively trying to bond a dragon? "If I have a feeling, it's a good sign, right?"

"Yeah," he agrees, without hesitation. "Absolutely."

You nod, unsure of what to say now. Because you don't know if the feeling in your chest is anything more than sputtering hope. If your parents fucked you by giving you the desire to do something great without the means to do it. If you inherited their cowardice.

No. You would not be a coward. Something you did would have to be enough. You were bonding a dragon today.

It was like Bodhi could read all of those thoughts on your face. Not that you'd ever been particularly good at hiding your facial expressions, but it was as if he has a secret key to all of your emotions.

He inclines his head to you. "We did it," he says hesitantly. "Marked ones. They didn't think we would, but we did."

"I'm not Marked," you say quickly.

"No, you're not," he responds, and his gaze tracks your body from head to toe, leaving shivers in its wake. "You should go. You have a dragon to bond."

You nod, not finding your tongue before he disappears back into the foliage.

And that's when you feel it--a puff of hot air at your back, and you don't know if you should turn around slowly, or just send up a prayer to Malek now. You opt for the former, spinning as slowly as possible with a downcast gaze until you see the gleam of navy scales. You chance a look up a bit, and you meet golden, keen eyes. A blue scorpiontail, and its nose is so close to you you're convinced it's about to blow a plume and end you right then and there.

There was no way you were making it out of this interaction alive. Perhaps that feeling in your chest had been your last moments os peace before doomsday.

The blue lowers its nose until it's level with you, and you suck in a breath as it goes to your gloved hand. Fuck. Of course your stupid skin is what's going to keep you from--

Did the dragon just set your hand on its nose. Holy shit.

You look down, a furrow finding home between your brows as your breath saws in and out of you, and you see that this massive dragon had placed your hand on the top of its nose. It shuts its eyes, letting out another warm puff.

"Hi," you whisper. You're really racking up these multiple syllabic interactions lately.

The dragon chuffs, bumping your hand. "You are enough."

And it feels like your chest cracks in two.

"How did you--"

"I know you."

Holy shit, you were talking to a dragon--

"What do you mean?" you ask. You needed to catch up before she changed her mind.

"You're nothing like your father. It's why I've chosen you." She straightens, extending her leg. This is probably the moment you're supposed to mount. You stumble, and it's not the most graceful thing in the world, but you make it up, figure out your way to where you're supposed to sit, a hand resting on the pommel of her scales.

"You choose me?" you ask aloud, still in disbelief.

"You're surprised?" she asks, her gentle voice filtering through your mind. You never thought you'd describe a dragon as gentle.

"Maybe," you answer. "A little bit."

"You knew." Her voice is almost chiding. Did you just get stuck with a mother hen for a dragon?

"I guess," you say. "I knew something, I just--"

"You're ging to need thicker gloves. It's colder the higher in altitude we climb, and the ones you have aren't going to have enough grip to keep you safe." She launches into the sky without warning. Something like a laugh filters through your mind as your scramble to grip the pommel, your gloved hands sliding against her scales as your brace with your thighs and hold on for dear life.

So, she doesn't even care about your hands. You swallow the rising lump in your throat.

"Obviously, I don't care about your accommodations. I know you. I also know you're about to fall off. Please, don't embarrass me on the first day."

You tighten your grip on her pommel as best you can, the wind whipping tears from your eyes and--

Oh. You were flying. On the back of a dragon.

It was more than anything you'd imagined, better than anything you could have dreamed up. It was pure adrenaline and joy, the freezing air kissing your cheeks, ripping the strands loose from your braids. You gingerly loosen a hand, slipping the glove off and tucking it away. You trace your hand along the wind, letting it dance between your fingers as she loops around. It was unlike anything you had ever, ever experienced. It was like your entire life, you'd just been waiting for this moment.

And you made it. You did it. You had proved yourself worthy.

You're a fucking dragon rider.

You'd given her name to the roll-keeper--Shocairinntinn--and turned around only to have Rhiannon barrel into you, talking excitedly about her new bond. She drags you away, demanding to see who you'd been chosen by, and when you approach Shocair, you noticed you've gathered a bit of an audience.

"A blue?" someone sneers. "She bonded a blue?"

Something in your chest sinks, and you blink hard. Shocair snaps at the boy that had said it, and when his orange starts to put up a fight, all it takes is a rumbling growl for the larger dragon to stand down. Shocair was small for her breed, smaller than most of the dragons on the field, but you had a feeling what she lacked in size, she made up for in viciousness.

"Your assumption is correct," she muses into your mind, sounding indignant. "Though I find the observation unnecessary."

You open your mouth to apologize, but she speak into your mind again.

"Don't. I chose you for your sharp mind and quick wit." You swallow, surprised. "And you better figure out how to talk back to me. I don't do discussions with others."

So, your dragon was an introvert. A warm feeling filled your chest, and you had a feeling she approved of this descriptor.

"She's beautiful," Rhiannon muses, and you shoot her a smile.

"She is," you agree. Shocair lowers her head in inclination, reaching until she's level with you. The riders around you take a step back, giving the two of you a large wake, but you just raise your hand until it rests on the tip of her nose. Something that sounds suspiciously like a sigh comes from her.

She straightens, extending a leg, and you take the hint.

"Cadet Marho," a professor calls. "Stay grounded!"

Shocair waits until you're mounted before moving to growl at the professor, and he has the wits to raise his hands in surrender and back off.

And then she takes off into the sky, and you're flying again. Tracing the clouds with your hands.

A dragon rider.

#y'all i want a dragon #okay enough set up the next part is literally what had me writing all of this LMAO #bodhi durran #bodhi durran x reader #bodhi durran x you #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #the empyrean #emmmaswrites

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thatonesonicfanfictionwriter · 1 month ago

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I have a very cute shadow the hedgehog x fem&mobian!reader fanfic idea

So basically the reader is a HUGE AND I MEAN HUGE otaku and mostly 🌟magical girl fan🌟, she wears all magical girl outfits loves anime like smile precure, cardcapture sakura, sailor moon etc etc and Shadow takes notice pretty quickly so when he goes to a mall to get gifts for reader for Christmas mas he finds a whole store dedicated to just anime magical girl stuff so he practically buys the whole store just for the reader🥹💗🌟

(also this may or may not be projecting myself to reader..hehe..oopsies..(о´∀`о) )

“Minor Obsession”

Pairing: Shadow the Hedgehog x Reader

Requested: Yes (by @shadowchan009 ).

Description: When you had gotten into your current obsession, you did not expect Shadow to pick up on it, let alone get anything for you. Boy, were you happy you were wrong.

Notes: I’m happy to do this one for you!! And don’t worry about projecting onto Reader; you ARE Reader, after all! I hope I do your request justice!

(Reader will use They/She pronouns.)

(Not proof-read/beta-read.)

– – – – – – – – – – – –

You were pretty sure your boyfriend was just- completely done with you.

All of your streaming services were filled with different anime (Sailor Moon and Cardcapture Sakura being the one he notices the most), you made references that he didn’t understand, and every time you two had a movie night, it was something anime related.

You definitely thought he was done with you.

But you were (luckily) wrong.

Shadow started keeping mental tracks of the different anime you liked, and whichever anime you disliked.

It gave him the perfect amount of time to get you something for Christmas.

Frankly, he didn’t understand any of it, but Gaia forbid he gets you something mediocre for Christmas.

Right now, he was at the mall, searching every store he could find for any of your interests. He grumbled to himself, leaving the twelfth store that day, not having found anything.

Not wanting to give up, he checks the nearby map, and then…he spots it out of the corner of his eye.

A brightly-colored store (far too bright for his liking), showing multiple magical girl anime character cutouts outside it.

Bingo.

Shadow quickly heads over to the store, looking around for a moment before realizing something.

How much of this did you already have?

He thinks to himself, remembering that your collection was rather small due to your parents’ hate of anything related to anime.

Shadow starts grabbing a lot of different items from your favorite anime before going to the counter.

Flash-forward a few days, and it’s now Christmas.

The tree seems to have…far too many gifts under it. Not that you’re complaining.

“…Shadow,” You start.

“Yes?” He questions.

“I love you very much, and thank you for all of this, but where did you find this much stuff?”

“Why don’t you open them and find out?”

You shrug and give Shadow a kiss on the cheek, rummaging through the presents and picking one out at random, also picking out one of your presents for Shadow and handing it to him.

“Open yours first.” You suggest.

He nods, carefully tearing into the paper to reveal a hand-knitted sweater, colored a cherry red, that reads in blue letters, “MY FAVORITE BOO”.

“Did you…knit this yourself?” He asks, caressing the soft material of the sweater with his thumbs.

“I did.” You tell him, a smile on your face.

“It’s lovely,” Shadow says, returning your smile.

“I’m glad you like it,” you tell him.

You go ahead and tear into your gift to reveal a decently-sized, mint-condition Sailor Moon figurine.

You let out an excited squeal, peppering Shadow’s face with kisses.

“ThankyouthankyouTHANKYOU!” You yell excitedly.

Shadow lets out a chuckle, his face slightly turning green with your affection.

“There’s more where that came from, [Name],” he tells you.

The rest of the day is filled with you opening what was probably way too much anime merchandise, but neither you nor Shadow cared.

You were happy, and so was he. You couldn’t ask for anything else.

#sonic the hedgehog #sth #sonic fanfiction #shadow x reader #shadow the hedgehog x reader #sonic characters x reader #sonic character x reader #x reader #etc #insert tag here #shadow the hedgehog #reader #xmas after xmas wooooo /j

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number1jeonginstan · 1 year ago

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Ok, so sry to be bothering you... AGAIN😭Guess who's back with some more hard thoughts~?

But this has been on my mind all weekend

Lee Know asking if you wanted to hang out with him and the boy who r also bringin their girlfriends. He gives you the context of amusement park or arcade. You're like, I know the perfect outfit. It's a collared crop-top and a pleated skirt(idk what colors ill let you decide on that) The skirt just hugs your waist so nicely that it gets him hard. So he purposefully throws his glasses to the other side of the bed(It's against the wall), when you're not looking and asks so sweetly, "Hey, Baby? Can u get my glasses for me." And when you do what he asks he can see your cute little cotton panties and he can't help himself. He pushes you on the bed and devours you While he's fucking you, he's like, "Who were you dressing up for huh? Such a little slut with that tiny skirt. Trynna flirt with my friends?" He knows you would never but he's just too riled up

But, idk, just hard thoughts

-🥠

A/N: THIS WAS SUCH A GOOD REQUEST. I loved writing this, because Lee Know is definitely very protective, and seeing you in that short of a skirt would make him go feral…

WC: 1.9k

Minors don't interact, 18+

Pairing: bf! Lee Know x afab!Reader

Warnings: Lee Know calling reader a slut, unprotected sex, one ass slap, spitting…

It was finally the weekend and you were excited to relax and do nothing with Minho. You were upside down on your bed, scrolling through your phone when he barged into your shared room.

“Babe!” he yelled, running towards you, Soonie following behind him, swishing his tail. “Yeah what’s up?” you replied, rolling over onto your stomach to look at him. “Okay so, you know that new arcade that opened,” he said while sitting on the bed.

Soonie followed suit, jumping and curling into a ball next to you. “Yeah?” you replied, unsure where he was going with this. “Well, the boys wanted to go with their girlfriends, and they invited us.”

You just giggled along as he continued to explain. “Well, he rented out the place for us to play, so do you want to go?” He flopped onto the bed next to you, arms behind his head waiting for your response.

“Yeah, how long do we have though, we can go get lunch beforehand.” You said, slowly getting up. “We have a couple hours, it’s only 11, and they were thinking around 5 so we can go out and watch a movie after.”

“That works for me, let me go get ready.” You fully got up from the bed, giving Minho a kiss as you went to take a shower.

Before you got into the bathroom he yelled at you. “Are you sure you don’t want me to join!” in a teasing voice. You stuck your head out of the bathroom sticking out your tongue to him and locking the door.

You were only wrapped around in a towel as you got out of the shower, your body still a bit damp. You got out of the shower to meet Minho’s eyes tracing your body in the towel “Do you want to go in while the water is still hot?” you asked him.

He put down his phone, rubbed Soonie’s chin, and walked up towards you. “You really should have taken my offer and showered with me,” he said, kissing your lips and heading to the bathroom.

You just giggled, turning around and heading into your shared walk-in closet. You wanted to dress comfortably, but also cutely for the arcade. Thankfully, it wasn’t too cold, so you could get away with wearing just a skirt. You looked through your closet finding the new shirt you had just purchased, a mint-green collared shirt, and a pleated denim mini-skirt that worked perfectly with the shirt you chose.

Minho was still in the shower as you began to do your makeup. Sitting at the vanity mirror in your shared bedroom, you were contemplating doing just light makeup because you guys weren’t going anywhere special.

Minho had gotten out of the shower, towel still on his hips as you were applying your concealer. “What shirt should I wear?” he said from behind you, looking at you through the mirror. “I think a hoodie would look good, don’t you?”

He just nodded, kissing your temple, not fully seeing the outfit you were wearing, too occupied thinking about his own. As he finished finding an outfit, he placed his glasses on the bridge of his nose, laying on the bed waiting for you.

His back was towards the headboard, scrolling through bubble asking stays what he should eat for lunch as he finally looked up at you. You had gotten up to wet your beauty blender, what you vowed perfected your dewy makeup, which he always laughed up. His eyes roamed your body, taking in every inch. He had never seen that shirt before, or that skirt.

The skirt hugged your torso perfectly, flaring out on your smooth thighs. The shirt on the other hand was his favorite color. He could see the outline of your bra, and he could feel himself getting hard. You had been holding out on him, and he wanted you right there and then. He started thinking about what colored panties you were wearing under your skirt. How easy it would be to bend you over and see them. He put his plan into action. Before you came back, he threw his glasses to the other side of the room. You would be a good little girlfriend and receive it for him if he asked.

As you sat back down, he was trying to think of a way to get your attention. You had finally finished your look, applying mascara to your lashes, and you looked at him through the mirror. “Where did your glasses go?” you asked, taking note of the frames no longer being on his face. “I sneezed and now I don’t know where they are.”

“Do you want me to find them for you?” you asked, getting up from your chair and walking around in search of them. He just nodded, getting up as you bent over on the floor in hopes of finding them. They had ended up under the bed, as you bent over, trying to get them, Minho had rutted his crotch on top of yours, throat around your neck.

He pulled you off the floor, putting your back directly against his chest, and whispered in your ear. “Who did you dress like such a slut for?”

Before you could say anything, he threw you on the bed. You squealed in surprise, Minho was dominant, but he had never done anything like this before. “Fuck, look wearing white panties and acting all innocent while dressing like a slut.”

“Do I need to remind you who you belong to?” Minho said, opening your mouth by pressing it together with his hands. “Take my spit like a good girl okay? Let me mark you.”

You stuck out your tongue, waiting for him to put his fingers in your mouth, but instead, he spit into it. The string of saliva still being there as he told you to close your mouth. “Stop gaping at me like a fish, and swallow.”

You just nodded, closing your mouth and swallowing his saliva. “Good kitten, now turn around I wanna see your pussy.”

You did as he asked, turning around, your ass facing out as your face was slightly faced into the bed. He could already see a wet spot on your panties, “What a whore, already wet from me just spitting in your mouth. Maybe I shouldn’t even prep you?”

You just whined at his words, begging for any sort of stimulation, and began humping the air slightly. “Fuck, can’t even wait for sir to make you feel good. Maybe I should just get off by myself?”

“No please, will be good, will be good for you Sir.” you pleaded, you needed him. “Then be a good girl, and listen at once.”

He smacked your ass, eliciting a moan from your lips. “Fuck, gonna eat this pussy like it’s my last meal.”

He kissed your thighs, slowly going up to your covered pussy, kissing the fabric. He slowly took the fabric off of you, letting out a sigh of contentment when he saw how wet you were for him. “Sir please” you moaned, feeling the cool air coming in contact with your bare cunt.

“Shut up or else” he groaned into your cunt, wanting to enjoy the moment. You quickly became quiet, covering your mouth with your hand as he began to lick a stripe in between your folds. He flipped you around, wanting to be face-to-face with your cunt.

You began to try and take off your skirt, but he slapped your hand away. “Wanna fuck you while you are wearing this skirt. Want to make you cum in this so it reminds you of who owns you whenever you wear it.”

You just nod your head, placing your hands on your face as he begins to suck on your clit. Licking it and sucking on it as he began to slip one of his veiny fingers into your cunt. “Fuck baby, taste so good, only for me right?”

You moaned as he began to thrust his finger inside of you, still sucking on your clit. “Take off your shirt and your bra, I want you to play with your tits.”

You did as he asked as he still ate you out, barely able to comprehend anything as you felt the fabric of your bra shifting off your nipples. He looked up from your cunt, your juices splayed against his chin as he leaned in to kiss you.

You could taste yourself on him, moaning as one of his fingers came to pinch your nipple. “Be a good girl and play with them for me okay?” He said kissing your lips another time. You nodded, bringing your fingers to them, as he began to take off his shirt. You could feel his cock rub against your thigh as he was doing so.

It was getting to be a bit much, you were soaked and you needed him inside of you. You pawed at his pants, trying to get them off faster. “Fuck baby, that’s why you wore this skirt, because you want my cock that bad?”

You nodded, “Can I please have your cock sir?” you begged. He obliged, reaching over to get a condom, but you stopped him. “Want you in me raw today” and he groaned out loud. “Fuck baby, want to wake around with my cum? Want everyone to know you belong to me?”

You nodded, “want everyone to know that I’m your Sir.”

“So my baby isn’t a slut for my friends, she’s just a slut for my cock,” he said, kissing your lips again.

He began aligning his cock with your cunt, slapping your clit a few times with his tip, trying to get you to squirm underneath him. “Please sir, I need it” you moaned, wrapping your legs around him trying to get him to put it in already.

He finally obliged, slowly putting his cock into you, inch by inch. “Fuck kitten, you are so tight, I need to fuck this cunt more often then? Get you nice and stretched out for me so I can use you anytime.”

“Yes sir, please fuck me anytime, where ever you want, will be good for you.”

He fucked into you like a madman as soon as you said that, his cock disappearing under your skirt and into your tight pussy was all he needed. “Fuck baby, this cunt is squeezing me so tight.”

He could feel your cunt squeeze around him, fluttering, so he brought down his hand rubbing your clit as he sped up his place a bit. “Are you close kitten?”

“Yes sir, need your cum, please need it in me.” Your pussy was convulsing around him and you could feel yourself reaching your peak, especially because he was hitting the spongey spot inside you. “Fuck kitten, cum for sir, cum on my cock.”

That was all you needed to cum around him, moaning his name over and over again. That was all Minho needed to cum inside you.

He slowly pulled out, watching your pussy dribble out the mixture of both your cum onto your skirt, ruining it.

“Fuck baby, sorry if that was too much,” he said, trying to fix your hair a bit. You just giggled, falling back into his arms. “At least this time we won’t be too late” you giggled into his ear. He just laughed, you still in his arms,

#skz #stray kids #straykids x reader #skz smut #skz x reader #straykids smut #ju <3 answers #ju <3 thoughts #lee know x reader #skz lee know #lee know smut #lee minho x reader #lee know #ju <3 writes #ju's <3 anons

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kinley-cafe · 6 months ago

Text

Kinley Café Current Menu

The menu may change based on the season or special holiday. Text version with full menu and item descriptions can be found below the cut

ORDER NOW

CONTACT DISPATCH

Drinks

🔥 "You Still Owe Me that Beer" Float A deliciously tart and creamy root beer float made with quality craft beer and decadent French vanilla ice cream. This delightful treat comes with one turnout straw and one flight suit straw. 🔥 Fake Mouth Static Sparkling Tea Extra fizzy kshhh butterfly tea ksshhh with honey, berries ksshhh and a helicopter ice cube 🔥 Cat 5 hurricane Cappuccino A rich and creamy cappuccino in a (possibly stolen) LAFD Helicopter themed mug. 🔥 “I took a guess” Mystery Coffee Not like that. It’s definitely not what you want, but Buck tried his best and that’s all that matters. It's a random coffee with undisclosed, completely random ingredients, served in a green to-go coffee cup wrapped in a cardboard coffee cup sleeve, decorated all over with brown hearts and flames. 🔥“That Fire Was A Beast” thirst quencher Hydrating strawberry dragon fruit, topped with whipped cream and soot colored chocolate drizzle. Served in a fire hydrant cup.

🔥 “You’re a vision” Birthday Cake Hot Chocolate A flirty and festive Belgian hot chocolate served in a red and blue cup, topped with a cloud of confetti whipped cream.

🔥 Buck’s Cozy Cup of Tea A nice, hot cup of black tea with lemon and honey. Each cup is wrapped securely with an (un)official LAFD crocheted cozy.

🔥 Harbor Station Pumpkin Spice Latte A mix of delicious traditional fall spices, topped with whipped cream and cinnamon. It’s served in a special Air Ops Winged Cup with a golden pumpkin stirrer.

🔥 Saturday Sparkling Cider A warm malted cider, with all the Saturday Night craft flavor, and none of the alcohol. Served at room temperature so it’s not too hot, and not too cold. It’s just what you’re ready for.

Desserts

🔥 118 Cream Donut Bavarian Cream Donuts with fire engine red strawberry frosting and ember sprinkles.

🔥 Flying Lessons Fudge Bon Bons Delicious fudge-filled bon bons molded with a headset and wrapped in a pilot jumpsuit colored wrapper.

🔥 Are We Still Talking About Cake? Layered Vanilla cake with Strawberries, buttercream icing and a candy LAFD logo. Go ahead and take it to your table. So you can eat it.

🔥 Open Channel Chocolate Muffin Chocolate muffins topped with cream cheese frosting and chocie talkies (chocolate walkie talkie shaped chips) 🔥“I’m An Ally” Cookie Bar Delicious copycat Italian cookie bars with bisexual flag layers. Made for any ally, or…more than an ally.

🔥 Date Night Cookie Pizza A delicious skillet cookie pizza topped with ice cream strawberries and. A perfect treat for your (hopefully) uninterrupted first date.

🔥 “Be With Your Man” Brown Sugar Mug Cake This warm and delicious brown sugar mug cake captures the ambiance of Buck and Tommy’s cozy dinner at home. The patterns on the cup are inspired by items from Buck’s dinner table.

🔥 Adorable Apple Pie Super sweet mini apple pies baked by Tommy as an ode to Buck and just how adorable he is. Each one is baked in a turnout tin and brushed with strawberry jam to resemble Buck’s birthmark.

🔥 Firefighter’s Flaming Candy Apple A sweet, sugar candy coated California grown Gala apple, decorated with a blazing flame.

Buck’s Happy Hour

🔥“I am free” This eye opener cocktail is a refreshing and invigorating beverage that features rich coffee with deep, malty notes of stout that lingers in your mouth, much like the sweet taste of a first kiss. It combines vodka, cold-brew coffee, coffee liqueur, stout beer, and a sweet brown-sugar syrup. Garnished with heart shaped mint.

🔥The 24 Hour Shift A highly caffeinated, creamy cocktail with sweet and smooth flavors, made to keep you going for hours. This cocktail is blended with nitro brew, bourbon, brown sugar, and half and half, topped with whipped cream and a cinnamon stick. 🔥Intermittent Showers This cocktail is excitement in a glass. A rush of sweet, smooth and fizz, made with cold-brew coffee, club soda, berry infused rum, simple syrup, topped with silver storm cloud whipped topping and a mini chocolate helicopter.

🔥The “Tommy, Actually” Made with craft beer and espresso to combine strong, bold coffee with the rich flavors of beer, featuring the unexpected sweetness of the heavy cream, coffee liqueur, and whipped topping. Topped with whipped cream and Edible gold Air Ops Pilot Wings.

Anytime Menu

🔥 The Q Word Have you been jinxed? Order one of these special to-go combos to help you get through the chaos ahead.

🔥 “Badass Coffee Mug” Ready to go up? Order this combo whenever you’re in the mood for a Harbor Station tour from a hot pilot to put a smile on your face.

🔥 “I Need Mo Joe” Looking for a little comfort? Maybe a certain adorable firefighter can whip up a firehouse family combo for you

Call Dispatch (send an ask) anytime you’re looking for a little pick-me-up and put in an order for one of these combos.

#.kinley cafe current menu

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anyamaris · 1 year ago

Text

The Games We Play

Word Count-6572

Summary- Beware the fae and the games they play. Straying off the path on the way home from yet another boring date, the bustling city night gives way to the bright midday sun. Confused yet intrigued, you stumble upon a beautiful man by a stream who is much more than he seems.

Pairing- Pixie!Felix x fem!Reader

Trope-Fantasy AU/Strangers to lovers au, smut

Rating- 18+ MDNI

Warnings- Vulgarity, sexual language, unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), some deception (he's a fae after all) but the intercourse is definitely consensual, he's a bit cheeky with a touch of playful meanness, as always 18+ Minors dni

Tags- @cultofdionysusnet @ksmutsociety @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @yoonguurt @shinestarhwaa @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @starlitmark@millennial-fangirl @ericssmile @wooahaeproductions@changbinslovelylegs @yeosxxx @millennial-fangirl @starillusion13 @duchesskaren @minki-moo @1-800-shedevil @woosanbby

@cafekitsune Thank you for banners and dividers! 🤍💜🤍

A/N-This is my first time writing Felix and it's my second addition to the Thrill of the Hunt collab with CODN. Make sure you check out all the authors stories!

@sanjoongie I swear I couldn't have done this one without you, all of your help and listening to me rant about anything and everything. This one is definitely dedicated to you 💘

@starlitmark your beta read really helped me finish this and I can't thank you enough! I love you!

@1-800-shedevil thank you so much for reading and letting me know how I'm doing, as well as being encouraging and supportive as you always are, I adore you!

@mint-yooxgi as always my partner in crime and aus, you are always there to hype me and keep me going, I love love love you!

“And the return on my stocks-” your date was droning on, and you dip your head to take a sip of your water to cover your yawn.

You have no idea why you continue to try to date in this city. In your personal experience, there were only three outcomes from such excursions.

One was the scenario you currently find yourself in; a boring, pretentious date who just wanted to talk about money, politics, his most recent car purchase. Too full of themselves to even ask a single question about you without having to volunteer anything on your own.

The second was the overly eager, handsy types that were a little too interested in you, but for all the wrong reasons. Your last date had asked what color panties you’d worn ‘for him’ as the waitress tried not to drop the salad into your lap.

And of course, there was the third. The dates that started well, they seemed very interested in you as well as being interesting themselves. Enough to make you let down your guard, but not enough to have you escaping out a bathroom window.

Yet this third category was pure chaos for you, and not in a fun way. Between finding out the guy has a girlfriend by the approach of a second date, or they turn into the complete opposite of what they represented during the date….

At least the first two were up front about what they were. Dating has just become boring, annoying, lame.

Between your work life draining you six days a week, and little to no social life, it was soul sucking when you had to listen to some suit drone on about the cost of his designer socks.

So here you found yourself, struggling through another boring meal, smiling and nodding along with a bombardment of information you will forget the moment you walk out the door.

Sighing, you look up at the night sky, wondering if there is more to life than this monotony.

Declining the shared cab with your date, you bid him goodbye and decided to take the long route to your apartment.

The park was quiet, the surrounding trees muffling the busy sounds of the city behind you.

Stopping to appreciate the plush green grass, you slip off your shoes to leave the path and let your bare feet sink into the cool blades.

There was a small clearing with a beautiful tree that you’d always longed to read a book under, if only you could find the time.

The urge to just go sit underneath it right this very moment hits you hard and before you realize it, your legs are moving on their own.

“It won’t hurt anything if I just take a moment…” you find yourself saying, blinking lazily as the sunlight cuts through the leaves over your head.

“So pretty…” you hum before it suddenly hits you.

Sunlight? It was night time….

The sound of rushing water plays in your ears as you spin around, shoes still dangling off your fingers. “What the f-” you whisper under your breath, taking in the terrain around you.

“We’re not in Kansas anymore…” you hum mindlessly as your brain tries to process where you are. For some reason, you can hear your granny’s cackle in your mind as you let out a weary sigh.

“Stumbled across a faery ring, did ya?”

“Oh Gran…” you sigh, shaking your head.

Folklore and fairytales, but she’d always warned you.

“It’s a dream, I just fell asleep in the park.” You shrug, not really believing it as you turn to look up at the midday sky, and the lush green plains that appeared to end in a rocky drop off in the distance.

“Well…this is better than my stuffy date.” you snort, marching along the mossy earth to the edge of a wide stream. Rocks jutted out on either side, and the pleasant trickle of water sounds like music to your ears.

A few moments pass before you hear the tinkling laughter of what sounds like children, eyes widening as three creatures leap across the stream.

Their giggles sound like delicate windchimes as they call to a fourth figure, a low voice calling out what can only be obscenities, though none you’ve ever heard before.

“Not so funny when it’s you, eh?!” a childlike voice rings out as the laughter trails off, leaving the soft sounds of the stream behind as you study the now still being.

At first you only take in his form, the lean figure seemingly sulking at the edge of the water.

He…the creature definitely looks as if it’s a male at first glance. The sound of the voice as well is deep and rich enough to be considered masculine.

His obvious unhappiness is apparent as he turns and you can see him a bit better, a pout adorning his full lips as he kicks a pebble into the rushing stream.

“This is ridiculous.” He grumbles loud enough to overhear as he kneels down to trail his fingers through the water.

“Ridiculous!” he repeats, the childish tantrum from what appears to be a grown man has you letting out a laugh before you can stop yourself.

Slapping a hand over your mouth, you can’t help but admire the grace at which he rises and spins as he looks in your direction.

“Who’s there?” He calls, brilliant eyes searching.

Green…no…blue…purple?

Your eyes widen as he meets yours, stunned by the beauty and vibrancy of their colors.

Heterochromia, you think. One brilliant emerald green eye beside a beautiful violet blue.

He gracefully makes his way to you, curiosity and some hesitation to his expression.

His beauty is undeniable as he comes closer, and it nearly has you speechless as he studies you.

His platinum blonde hair curls over his ears, a spattering of freckles covering his flawless honeyed skin. His lips speak of berries and cream, drawing your gaze as he forms words directed at you.

Blinking as you realize he’s spoken, you flick your eyes up to his multicolored gaze. Those lips curl into what you could only call a smirk as his eyes sparkle delightedly.

“Are you lost?” he repeats, those colorful eyes closing slowly as he leans forward, appearing to inhale the air around you.

“Lost?” you ask dumbly, shaking your head at his question. “Can one be lost in a dream?”

His laugh is so different from his face, deep and resonant, rich and smooth like velvet on silk, caressing your aural senses.

“Ah, this is not a dream, love. You appear to have stumbled across a ring.” he hums as he sits upon the rock cross legged.

“Sure it’s not, I just appeared randomly in the fae realm.” Your sarcasm laden words appear to amuse the man as he rocks back and forth to laugh once more.

“Ah you’re going to be one of those.” He hums, his smirk far too adorable to take.

“One of those?” You raise an eyebrow at his comment, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you settle down on your own piece of earth.

His sigh sounds weary to your ears. “Yes, yes. Those that stumble upon faery rings have a variety of reactions. Disbelief, fear, the occasional excitement that leads to despair as they realize-” he stops suddenly, a mischievous smile curling his rosy lips.

“Realize what?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him.

He merely hums and raises one shoulder into a shrug. “This is only a dream, remember?” He teases, raising his hands to gesture around him, palms up.

“Why would I explain anything if you don’t think this is real?” He asks in a sing-song voice, glancing around the beautiful area.

“Alright then, keep your secrets.” You respond with a wink and a smile, giving him your own shrug, looking away to take in the lush scenery.

“Why are you upset then?” you ask, glancing at him from the side. For some reason, his reaction at your response has you wanting to giggle as his lips pull down into another pout.

“Upset? I’m-” He stops, lip curling as he looks down to poke at the moss growing upon the rock.

“A trick was played upon me.” His low voice is almost inaudible, and you have to lean forward to catch his words.

“What sort of trick?” you ask, curious now. “Were you lured over here as well?”

His eyebrow raises at your interest, seeming to be thinking about answering. A moment passes as he contemplates, then he suddenly sits up and starts to rock once more.

“I have an idea!” He exclaims, clapping his hands together delightedly.

“Why do I feel as if this isn’t a good thing…” you hum under your breath and he just pouts at you once more.

“What is this idea?” You ask him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Let’s play a game…if you win, I’ll tell you.” he says, beaming with glee at his idea.

“And if I lose?” you inquire, feeling like he’s up to something.

“Hm….” he crosses his own arms, hand on his chin as he makes a dramatic thinking face, causing you to roll your eyes at him.

“You’re just going to play some kind of weird trick on me, aren’t you?” You huff, shaking your head. “No thanks.”

His lips part as he gasps, eyes widening at your words. “How little you think of me!” he says, hand upon his chest.

“I don’t know you, so the bar is pretty low.” You say, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Well, play a game with me and you’ll get to know me better.” He responds, his long eyelashes fluttering over those radiant eyes.

“What makes you think I want to get to know you better?” You ask him, rolling your eyes a bit.

To be fair, the idea of learning a bit more about him was enticing, though you weren’t going to admit it to a stranger. Honestly, thinking back to your dates, this was much more enjoyable already.

Fuck it, you think. If this wasn’t a simple dream and you really had accidentally stumbled into the fae realm….

This was infinitely better than your current day to day.

“Well, what else are you doing?” He spreads his hands out, and you can’t argue with that logic.

“Hmm….I suppose that’s true,” you mutter, those mostly innocent eyes studying you with a bit more intelligence than you gave him credit for.

A sudden thought hits you and you grin as you lean towards him.

“What if….when I win, you’ll help me find my way back home..” you challenge him, biting your lip as he tilts his head at you, those gorgeous mismatched eyes processing the idea.

“‘When?’ Ha! …..and if I win?” He asks softly, leaning in with a cheeky smile.

Your breath catches at the way his eyes dance with merriment yet still hold that undercurrent of cunning.

A shiver caresses your spine as his eyes trail down to your mouth, then to your neck. His tongue darts out briefly to wet his lips as a few strands of his blonde hair fall over his forehead.

“If I win…you allow me to kiss you.” he whispers melodically, and you have to blink to stop yourself from being drawn into his enticing gaze.

He grins knowingly as you catch yourself, shaking yourself back to reality.

“You…want to kiss me?” Your brain races at the implications, wondering what the harm is in a simple kiss. The gods know you haven’t gotten any action in awhile and well….

“Just a kiss, right?” you narrow your eyes at him, wondering what his game was.

“Are you some kind of weird pervert?” You ask suddenly, and he throws back his head to laugh at your question.

“Are you afraid of a little nibble?” He teases, leaning back as he crosses his arms once more.

“Nibble? You sound as if you want to cannibalize me.” You wrinkle your nose at him, shaking your head.

His expression is comical as he raises his eyebrows, pausing for a moment before he gives you a small wink. “Just a kiss, for the purposes of this game. I definitely won’t cannibalize you…you have my word….”

You swear he must have momentarily thought about it given the twinkle in his leer but you just shake it off, rather enjoying this little bit of flirty banter.

You give him a slow nod as he watches you, chewing your lower lip as he awaits your answer.

“So…you help me find the way back or…a kiss?” You ask hesitantly and he beams, uncrossing his arms to spread them wide.

“Exactly so.” He repeats, a sly grin curling his pretty mouth.

“What game will we be playing?” you realize you should have asked this first as his eyes light up and he suddenly spins up to his feet gracefully, arms splayed.

“Hide and seek?” His lilting laugh settles a calm over you when you should be worrying, and you narrow your eyes at him once more.

“You want to play a children’s game?” You retort, frowning a little at him, then glancing around at the terrain surrounding you.

Honestly, there are plenty of stone outcroppings and trees dotting the field that spanned as far as you could see. Little mounds rise from the ground and the grass is tall and wild.

“Do you have something else in mind?” He hums, and you glance back over to him.

His seemingly wicked grin softens and you feel a mild wave of comfort as he steps towards you, holding out his hand.

“Let us agree, then. I’ll show you the way to get back, if you should happen to win.” he repeats, and you look down at his hand, feeling as if you should be more wary than you are.

“And…you may have a kiss if I lose.” you respond, taking his hand in yours.

His palm is warm and firm as his fingers wrap around yours, a smile of amusement dancing over his features and he slips his thumb along your knuckles.

His eyes trace your neckline as he grins, and for a moment you swear you can see a sharp fang in his mouth. At your gasp, he merely grins wide, and his teeth all appear to be normal.

Blinking as you shake your head, you draw your hand back, the thought of his touch conjuring not so innocent thoughts in your mind.

“You have to catch me then, not just find me.” you state, bringing your brain back to the matter at hand.

“Of course, what fun would it be if I merely spotted you…” his grin looks almost hungry and you frown momentarily, wondering why you are even agreeing to this.

His smile suddenly lights up, causing you to focus on his excitement.

“I’ll give you until the sun reaches the treeline there.” He points, and you gaze off at the large tree in the distance.

“Um…?” you turn to look at him and that musical laugh washes over your senses once more.

“About fifteen minutes, love.” he teases and tosses you a wink.

“Stop calling me that.” you grumble but he ignores you as he leans back on the rock, hands behind him to prop himself up.

“Tick tock…love.” he grins.

You merely roll your eyes as you stand, glancing down at the heeled shoes you had set next to you. Likely better barefoot…you think, leaving them behind as you jog off into the field to find a place to hide.

“Cheeky little bastard, flirting like that. Just because he’s hot…” you grump, enjoying the soft cool feel of the earth beneath your bare soles.

You turn to glance behind, giving him a brief once over. His long hair brushed his neck, the light platinum seeming to shiver in the midday sun. He appears to be humming to himself and not peeking as you turn to run off.

After a few minutes, you’ve wound your way down a small path leading to a small wooded area along the cliff’s edge. You can barely make out the small area you’d emerged from, only able to see the stream leading off inland.

He’d given you plenty of time, but for some reason your mind seems to be trying to grasp a thought you can’t quite reach.

What are you missing?

What … was there something you should have asked?

You shrug off the questions and look around.

You eye some of the taller trees as you make your way into the little copse of trees near the edge, smiling as you look up.

When you were young, you used to love to climb trees and heights were never an issue. With all of the rocks and mounds scattered throughout, you thought perhaps this was the best spot, as he’d be more likely to check the ground.

The leaves were lush and the branches were thick, so given your time restraints you merely shrug and begin your ascent.

By the time you are perched quite a ways up, you glance over to the tree in the distance he’d mentioned, wondering if it’s been fifteen minutes already.

After a moment of searching, you adjust yourself to look out over the beautiful body of water just beyond the cliff’s edge.

It’s gorgeous here, lush and vibrant. It’s so relaxing, such a change from the dreary city with all the smog and buildings smooshed together. Everywhere you look, there’s something to admire or become fascinated with.

Beware the fae, they are dangerous as they are breathtaking.

“I know Gran, I know…” you hum, shaking your head again to clear it. Once more you wonder how you went from a boring date to playing a silly children’s game with an unknown man.

Man? Are you sure-

“Ah there you are!” the deep, lilting voice startles you to the point where you lose your hold on the trunk of the tree.

You can only let out a yelp as you spot him, hovering at eye level a moment before you feel yourself tumbling from your spot.

Breathless from the fall, eyes clamped shut at the impending impact, you can only think, “This is it, going to break my neck-”

But then a pair of hands are catching you, and you’re being yanked against a hard chest. You immediately throw your arms around the neck of your savior without a thought.

A melodic rumble of a laugh vibrates your shoulder as you ease open an eye.

Still tense from the close call, you are startled yet again to look up at the face of the man by the stream. His eyes are dancing with glee as he gives you an almost wolfish grin.

“How-” you start, then gasp at the span of iridescent wings fluttering behind him.

“Looks like I’ve won.” He states with a smirk, hoisting you up to settle better in his arms.

The ease at which he’s carrying you, like a fucking princess, both amazes and annoys you.

“You! You’re a fucking fae?!” You manage to get out, still clinging embarrassingly to him despite your sudden surge of anger.

“Of course, love.” he whispers close to your ear as he inhales deeply.

“But-you-fucking WINGS?!” your brain seems to clear from the fog it was in, and you just glare at the fae holding you.

He grins at you, and you realize how ridiculous this all is.

Of course, fae are tricky. Your Gran had warned you so many times, but you’d merely brushed what she’d told you, believing her to just be talking nonsense.

Yet here you are, outwitted by some glamour and a pretty face.

“You never said you were a fae.” you grump, ashamed of the sudden pout on your face.

“You never asked.” he responds simply, biting his full bottom lip as he studies you.

“Well that’s not very fair, then. You were always going to win this easily.” you tell him as his eyes dance with amusement.

“Fair?” His laughter causes your heart to flutter, only adding to your annoyance over the situation.

First, he’s this hot with that voice and now he has wings….

Girl, you need to get laid.

WHAT AM I THINKING?!

His breath tickles your ear as he tightens his hold on you, the rich depth of his voice causing you to tremble.

“Who ever said anything about fair, love?” His nose bumps against the shell of your ear and you can’t stop the instant twinge between your legs from the contact, nor the small gasp that escapes your lips.

“Put me down. I’m not letting you kiss me.” you withdraw your arms from his neck, folding them over your chest.

He pulls back as a frown tugs at his lips, his eyes darkening at your words.

“A deal is a deal, love…but…if you’d like me to put you down….” his sudden smirk should have been a warning.

You weren’t prepared for the sudden departure of his arms as he tips you out of them, falling so quickly that you couldn’t even make a noise.

Your stomach turns as your mind races, as the warm air rushes past you while you fall but then you hear a deep laugh as he swoops in to catch you once more.

Clinging to him desperately, you can only shake as you regain your senses. You hadn’t noticed before but he must have flown over the edge of the cliff before he dropped you, because now you were below the edge.

Looking up at the jagged cliff wall, then to the rocks below, you turn your teary eyes to the fae holding you.

“Are you rethinking that phrase?” he asks, the teasing in his tone making you angry enough to glare at him and bare your teeth.

You can feel your heart beat pulse in your neck as you try to calm down, swallowing down your anger. He speaks before you can gather your thoughts enough to protest any more.

“It’s not polite to renege, love. You agreed to the terms before we played.”

Glancing up at those vibrant eyes, you can sense the danger lurking behind them. You knew…you knew well not to anger a fae, and you take a moment to collect your thoughts before you say something without thinking.

“I don’t know if you’re messing with my emotions right now.” You let out a soft sigh, feeling your heart slow to a steady, normal pace as you try to think of what to do next.

“Hm…depends on the emotion.” he winks at you and you can only roll your eyes.

“Can we…go somewhere on the ground where we can talk?” you ask hesitantly, tightening your grip as you glance down once more, to the craggy coastline hundreds of feet below you.

He immediately turns and begins to fly you both inland, much to your relief. Returning to the spot where you’d first come across him, he settles you onto your wobbly feet then steps back to study you.

Clearing your throat, you rub your neck at the momentary resistance you feel at letting him go.

Fucking hell, why am I getting horny over a winged fairy? A cheeky little bastard, at that.

Because he’s interesting, and this is exciting, a little voice whispers.

Quiet, jerk, you tell it, but you find yourself trying not to smile.

“I don’t even know your name.” You find yourself saying as you watch his face. Your eyes are drawn to those beautiful wings, gleaming brilliantly in the now setting sun. You can’t help but notice the weblike design on them, inwardly laughing sardonically at how very trapped you feel just by looking at him.

The sudden darkening of his eyes simultaneously draws you in and causes you to step backwards, slipping on the loose stone under your feet. Before you can fall on your ass, he’s beside you, arm slipping easily around your waist as he pulls you against him.

“You wish to know my name, love?” He hums, those beautiful orbs of his flicking over your face; lingering on your lips, on your tongue as it darts out to wet them.

“Only if you wish to tell me.” is all you manage as your body reacts to his. His chest is firm, the arm tightening around you strong. In your confusion and annoyance before, you’d overlooked just how ridiculously muscular he was.

His pretty face does not match the physique under his clothing, and the sudden spurt of excitement that dampens your panties causes your cheeks to flush.

A wicked smile creeps across his features as his nose flares, leaning into you as his eyes seem to brighten yet darken at the very same time.

“Naive little human, so many questions you never asked…” his eyes flutter as he inhales deeply, his voice dropping even lower as he lets out a soft growl.

“Your name is not what I wish to…discover…”

You swear your swallow is audible as he dips his nose into the crook of your neck, nuzzling gently as your skin breaks into gooseflesh.

“What-” the break in your voice darkens your cheeks as you try to figure out if your trembling is fear or arousal.

Perhaps both…

“What…do you wish to discover?” you finally grate out, your mutinous fingers slipping up into his silky platinum hair.

The sudden hitch of his breath emboldens you- unable to stop yourself, your other hand slips around him to trace up his spine.

Then your fingertips are dancing along the base of his wings.

The muscles there are tight, firm. Your lips part as his body trembles, the deep moan from his throat causing you to soak right through your panties.

Any doubt about his arousal evaporates as his hips jerk, the rigid length of his cock pressing firmly into your thigh.

His fingers suddenly entwine into your hair, gently pulling your head back as he leans back to look at you.

“You play a dangerous game, love.” he whispers, but the words vibrate through your body as you knead the area between his wings.

His fingers tighten in your hair, bringing his full lips to yours, a hair's breadth from coming into contact. The warm breath rasping from him has you yearning to close that tiny distance but his hand keeps you in place.

“I…thought you wanted a kiss…” you murmur, thighs shaking from the possibilities you can see in his hungry gaze.

The puff of air from his exhalation alone is making you insane, his rich, soft laugh reducing you to a quaking mess.

“A kiss is what I’m owed, love. Yet…I never said where I wanted to kiss you…” he grins, exposing a set of sharp fangs.

It should cause you to panic, yet it has the complete opposite effect. It seems that the choked moan that leaves your throat is all he needs to hear, as he suddenly drops his hands to cup your ass.

“Allow me to claim my prize…” he whispers, then you’re being lifted suddenly. You can’t even process anything as his hands lift your thighs to wrap around him.

Before you even register what’s happening, you’re being dumped gently onto a soft surface.

He’s hovering over you, his gaze raking over your prone form as he yanks off his flimsy shirt to expose his well formed torso.

“If you won’t tell me your name-” You gasp as he grabs your shirt, tearing it open to expose your bra underneath. Continuing as he cups your breasts, you shakily ask, “Will you tell me some form of name to call you?”

Humming, he appears to think as he yanks down one cup of your bra, palming himself through his pants as he kneads the soft flesh.

“Show me just how much I please you, and I’ll give you a name you may scream for everyone to hear.” His hands are working at your jeans now, growling low at the annoyance of the material keeping him from you.

“If you can make me moan-” you gasp out as he finally unzips and rips them off of you.

“Oh love…” he chuckles as his palm cups you between your legs. “I haven’t even set my lips upon you yet, and here you are quivering under my touch.”

You reach for him as his fingers dance along your panties, combing back the long strands of his hair as you arch beneath him.

“Your fragrance begs for my kiss, love.” the sudden tearing sound of you panties is lost in your cry as he presses his thumb against your clit. Shame over how soaked you are is washed away by how he rolls it over the nub, slick and gentle.

“Here?” he whispers, his well toned arm holding him above you as he looks down at your spread legs. Your now naked body is exposed completely to him and he licks his lips as he watches your hips move in time with his motions.

“Please-” you whimper, tugging gently on his hair as he glances up at your flushed face. You part your lips on a small moan as his forefinger teases along your slit.

“Ahhh…there it is…that’s what I want to hear, love.” he growls as his fingertip teases at your hole.

Your gaze drops to the straining pants, barely holding back his erection. Your free hand slips down his bare back, dipping into the waist of the material.

“Let me see you-” your voice is laden with need and his eyes dance with lust and amusement.

Leaning back, he makes quick work of the remaining clothing, allowing you to rake your eyes over his gloriously naked body; his thick, rigid cock seeming to beckon you, to enthrall you. Just like him, his penis was pretty and masculine all at once.

It creates an extremely powerful need within you, and you find yourself unable to control the spasms deep within as his palms settle on your thighs to part them.

“Your cunt is begging for my kiss, love.” he whispers as his head delves into your pussy. His hot breath tickles your core as he rubs his nose into your clit.

“Please!” You cry out, trailing off on a moan as you feel his tongue flick out to taste you. His hungry groan has you bucking your hips upward, eager and ready to feel his lips on you.

“Good girl, love. That’s it.” you barely make out the words as his lips encircle your sensitive nub, looking down at him as he sets about his feast.

Incoherent noises leave your throat and mouth as he sucks harshly on the bud, only his hands on your thighs keeping them from wrapping around his pretty head.

His teeth nip gently at you as he pulls back, causing you to whimper in despair.

“Don’t stop-” you rasp out, and he grins fully at you, seemingly delighted at your reaction to him.

“Felix.” he whispers, opening his mouth and letting his tongue dip briefly inside of you, then using the organ to lap at your folds, sucking them into his mouth as he watches you.

“Felix-” you gasp out, tugging firmly on his hair as he teases at your cunt.

“Yes…” he plants a kiss on you, his lips wet and glistening as he parts from you. “Moan for me, moan my name-”

His hands slip down your thighs, then his thumbs are parting your folds, opening you up to his gluttonous stare.

“Such a pretty little cunt, love. Would you like me to stuff it full?” he asks, the gleam in his eyes undeniable.

There’s no universe in which you’d ever say no.

“Anything, please-Felix-” your hands are grabbing at him, desperate for more, for all of him.

“Anything?” The danger in his grin only fuels the need to know what is lurking behind it, and you nod without thinking beyond that.

“Felix-fucking hell, yes, anything-”

“As you wish, love.”

Your head spins as he pushes a finger into you, clenching around him as you cry out wordlessly. His growl only increases your desire as he pumps it slowly in and out of you, curling it gently to tease at your walls.

“That’s it, love. Just like that…though I don’t think it’s enough…” he adds another finger, stretching you as he watches intently.

“More?” he inquires, raising an eyebrow at you. You barely are able to nod as he seems to know exactly where to touch deep within you.

“You-fuck please-” you whimper, panting heavily as he hums. He removes one hand to trail up your body, finding your soft breast. Slowly he moves up your body, never stopping the motion of his fingers inside of you.

“Please what, love? Tell me…tell me what you want…what you need…”

His head dips down, capturing your taut nipple in his mouth, wetting it as he licks and suckles on you.

Your moans only increase at the sensation, and you can feel a familiar tension building within your womb as he pushes yet another finger into you.

A popping sound mixes with your cries as he removes his mouth from your tit, grinning wickedly at the sounds leaving you.

“Cry my name out loud, love. Scream for me and I’ll fuck you until you can’t even see.”

Without hesitation, you do just that, his name falling from your parted lips over and over as your thigh wraps around his leg. His soft, rich tone washes over you as he whispers encouragement, urging you ever closer to the edge.

It’s when he rubs his length along your clit as his fingers continue their relentless assault that you feel everything upend.

Before you can take another breath, your chest tightens along with your pussy around his fingers. The orgasm rips through you like you’ve been hit by a freight train, the sudden tensing of every single muscle and nerve you possess causing you to arch, rising from the soft moss beneath you with a piercing cry.

Before it’s even over he’s yanking out his fingers, plunging his cock deep into you and smashing his mouth against yours to swallow your cries.

You can only cling to him as he thrusts hard and fast into you, your tongues meeting desperately as the area is filled with muffled moans and the wet slapping sounds of your bodies.

Pulling his mouth from yours, his eyes seem to radiate a shimmering light as he looks down at your sweat soaked body beneath him.

“So fucking tight, love. Like a fucking glove-” he growls, looking down to watch his cock pound into you. His eyes roll as he shivers, and you run your hand up his back once more to knead at the muscle between his wings.

A guttural snarl rips from his throat as his eyes flash, widening at your touch. It only encourages you as he grabs your free hand to pin above your head, his mouth crushing yours once more.

Impossibly, he quickens his pace as you wrap your legs around his waist. The force behind his thrusts likely bruising you but it only adds to the pleasure as you feel the wave of another orgasm building quickly.

“Felix-fuck-FELIX-” You cry, looking down between you where his eyes are glued. His thick cock is gleaming with your moisture, his full throaty moans causing your eyes to roll as you throw your head back.

“LOOK AT ME.” He commands, his voice powerful and deep, resonating through the clearing. It sends a shock through your lower body, clamping tightly around him as you teeter on the brink.

Your eyes meet his darkened gaze, completely at his mercy as you long to only obey him.

“Mark me-” you cry out, your fingers gripping the base of his wings tightly. You want him in every way you can possibly conceive of, and the need for him to claim you is overwhelming.

Before you can take another breath, his teeth are flashing and he buries his face in your neck. The sharp sting as he breaks the skin sends you spiraling, his hips sharply snapping into you.

The inarticulate scream of pleasure as you come around him causes his hips to stutter, then you can feel him bursting deep within you. His lips are stained red with your blood as he throws his head back, emptying himself as you cling to him.

Drawing him down to your lips, he kisses you deeply, the taste of iron causing you to moan as his tongue delves into your mouth. His thrusts become sloppy as he whimpers and you can feel the mixture of both of your fluids seeping out every time he plunges into you.

His damp body finally stills as he settles atop you, his kiss slowing to soft pecks, his plush lips brushing against yours.

You brush back his sweat soaked hair, gazing up into his beautifully mismatched eyes.

“Well…” you hum as he gazes at the bite mark on your neck. He leans in to lick it gently, pulling back to grin at you.

“Don’t say it, I already know.” you tell him, and he tilts his head at you questioningly.

“Oh? What do you know, love?” He whispers, rolling you so that you’re settled on top of him.

You finally take a look around the little area he’d brought you to. It appears to be within the trunk of a massive tree, and you’re in a sheltered area deep within the trunk. It’s quite cozy and you just hum happily as you tease your fingers over his chest, tweaking one of his nipples.

“I can’t leave now, you claimed me, yadda yadda.” you toss out, shrugging a shoulder as he blinks at you.

“Yet you-” he just stares at you in disbelief. “Why would you…?”

You let out a sigh, looking at him with a simple smile.

“Well, I suppose my life back home is pretty boring and tiring. And well…” you rake your gaze over his gorgeous form.

“I’m just a sucker for fairy dick?”

His laughter delights you as he pulls you tight against him.

“Pixie. I’m a pixie.” he tells you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I thought pixies were like…” you hold your finger and thumb about two inches apart and he looks at you sheepishly.

“Well…so you see ... .funny story…” he says, blushing.

Raising an eyebrow, you settle your chin on his chest as you await his answer.

“I normally am about that.” He takes your fingers and kisses them.

“A trick was played on me and well…” he shrugs, motioning to himself.

“Human sized pixie.”

“Well…that’s going to be an interesting dynamic when you change back…”

“Perhaps it’s a trick I don’t wish to fix.” He whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Is that even possible?” you ask him, curious. You should be concerned, thinking about what your life is going to be like now.

Yet somehow, you just can’t find it within yourself to plan everything out like you did before.

“I suppose we’ll find out, love.” he hums, tracing his fingers along your back.

“Felix.” you murmur, smiling in delight as his pretty lips curl up to flash that sharp fang once more.

Life has suddenly become exciting, dangerously fun and not knowing what is coming next thrills you more than you ever expected.

#cultofdionysusnet #ksmutsociety #Felix smut #Lee Felix smut #SKZ Felix smut #Stray Kids smut #Stray kids felix smut #Pixie Felix #stray kids fanfic

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lunarw0rks · 1 year ago

Note

Hi can you do a fluff drabble where you do a facial mask with 141 +köing kinda like a at home date night

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.･ﾟﾟ･｡♡ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

PRICE

never, and i mean never, does anything to pamper himself unless it involves his facial hair.

but, if there's one thing that he loves more than his beard — it's you, and your endearing domestic date ideas.

what's the harm? it's no fun being strict and hardened 24/7 — and he swears by that when he's home with you.

you do it with him, slathering on a charcoal mask on the both of you while you set up in the kitchen.

"sorry, lovie. 'm not used to this." he grumbles when you tell him to sit still, peaking at you through his closed eyes. you maintain a gentle touch, putting an even coat of the spread.

you cuddle on the couch, surely staining his shirt when you forget you have the tacky mask on your face.

he doesn't care, because this will be a fond memory next time he's away. or worse.

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SIMON

he's always been interested in your pampering. what you're doing, what that bottle does, what scents you like, etc...

often, he leans on the doorway and just watches you go through the motions of your skincare routine.

it's just another small detail for simon to remember about you — and that's enough for him.

so, being asked to participate, he acted as grumpy as ever.

but did he join you in the bathroom, allowing you to put whatever on his face? of course, he did.

"like the smell of that one." he says, instinctively scrunching his face while you smooth the rose-scented mask onto his often untouched skin.

while you wait on it to dry, he uses a magazine to fan his face, "how exactly is this helping me? 'm not the prettiest of test subjects, love."

well, his skin ended up glowy and clean for a few hours, until he put his mask on again.

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SOAP

it's constant questions. "what's this? what does that do?" and etcetera.

to your horror, soap only does skin care after he shaves, which isn't always consistent when he's deployed.

years of sand, dirt, sweat, and other grime not being properly scrubbed out of his pores — oh god !!

you have to put the face mask on for him, otherwise he would've put too much or too little.

probably tries to bite your fingers when you swipe the paste along his jaw... he's like a feral raccoon.

"don't know why ya' bother with this stuff. too much work. and you're already smokin'." he says in a pout, giving you a sly wink when you roll your eyes.

but, by the time he washes it off and feels his skin; smooth and hydrated, he eats his words.

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GAZ

gaz has an intricate and strict skincare routine that he follows, so you've had self-care dates often.

it's usually his idea before yours !!

he has the pricey stuff — any drop in quality and his skin is wiped and irritated for days.

"now put this on, it'll cool our skin off after the scrub."

he hands you a squeeze bottle of a peeling mask; mint and eucalyptus-scented, cool against your fingertips and exfoliated face.

laying in bed, wearing hair and face masks together until they're set and ready to be peeled.

best believe, you're not going to bed without a proper lotion routine — it's customary with dating gaz !! he wants you well taken care of !!

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KÖNIG

he has little, if not no time for skincare/self-care, so if you're able to convince him — you got lucky !!

forcing him to sit still and kneel in front of you, putting all kinds of skincare on his dry skin.

how he's gone on this long without moisturizer, especially when in such gritty climates, you have no clue.

"i don't get it, schatz. this is unnecessary." he grumbles, merely going limp and allowing you to apply the peel mask. "i bought these things for your face, why waste it on me?"

his pores desperately need it, that's obvious !!

the sight of a giant man, dressed in dark colors, now wearing a cucumber green mask — is definitely one you're going to remember.

still, he does it for you, because you asked him to.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.･ﾟﾟ･｡♡ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

#rachel speaks #mw2 #task force 141 #call of duty #141 headcanons #141 hcs #cod headcanons #cod hcs #mw2 hcs #mw2 headcanons #tf 141 #141 task force #cod 141 #141 x reader #tf 141 x reader #mw2 fanfic #task force 141 x reader #task force 141 x y/n

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orqheuss · 2 years ago

Text

Seven new ways that you can eat your young

(Ominis Gaunt/Sebastian Sallow/F!Reader SMUT)

Summary:

I'm starvin', darlin', let me put my lips to something, let me wrap my teeth around the world. *** In the midst of the end-of-the-year Slytherin party for the graduating seventh years, Ominis hears something that makes his blood boil. *** Smut based on the Hozier song, "Eat Your Young."

word count: 6.4K

AN: I'm reposting all of my fics from ao3 on to here for easier access! We're starting with the smut.

Slytherin’s always threw the best parties. That’s what everyone said, at least. It was the eve of the last week before the seventh-year’s graduated. All of the older students gathered in the Slytherin common room, ready to shake off any stress they had about the inevitable future. The merriment flowed like the goblets filled with firewhiskey and butterbeer sloshing in their hands. The room smelled heavily like sweat, alcohol, and sex. Some couples had already retired to their respective common rooms, leaving the main living area filled with green-colored horny teenagers and a few singletons still floating around.

Ominis stood off to the side of the party, back leaning against the cool wall of the common room. The glow of the black lake through the large cathedral style windows danced across his face, making him look ethereal. He wasn’t a fan of parties— much too loud for him. But, he promised Sebastian that he would try to have fun at the last party of their school career. Many people have approached to ask him for a dance, but he declined each time. He did not dance, even with his closest friends. His limbs were too long, too gangly to move smoothly. While he had filled out some since he was a newly minted young adult, he was still made out of all bony angles. From his vantage point in the room, he could hear absolutely everything that was happening. With his enhanced hearing, he could even go as far as pinpoint exactly where his companions were and what they were doing. He had memorized their sounds long ago— their distinct walking pattern, their strong heartbeats, their melodic voices. It was like recognizing his favorite song coming out of a gramophone across the room from him.

Sebastian was in the far corner of the room, over by the fireplace. There were multiple, feminine shaped forms around him. Ominis could hear him laugh at something one of them said, or maybe at a joke that came out of his mouth. Either way, the man was most definitely trying to have some unseemly fun with one of his many admirers that night. His heart was beating at a steady pace in his chest; the alcohol definitely calmed his nerves. Sebastian may have been a ladies man, but he fumbled around like the best of them when he thought too hard. There was something so drawing, so enticing about him. Maybe it was the cadence that he held himself with, how he was so confident in himself but still so humble about his achievements. Or maybe it was his charismatic voice— he could charm the pants off of the Minister of Magic. Either way, Sebastian Sallow was attractive. To anyone else in the common room, it would just seem like the brunette was just using his charm on the ladies of Slytherin house. But, Ominis knew the truth; Sebastian always liked to tease him about his jealous tendencies. Even if they weren’t together, not unless they were drunk, of course, the brunette knew that it bothered the blond to his very core that he was so irresistible to the rest of the student body. Any other time of the day, or other level of sobriety, it probably would bother the Gaunt man, but he knew that once this night was over and all of the others had gone to bed, he would be in the Undercroft absolutely pounding the brattiness out of his best friend. The blond smirked to himself, looking down at his foaming drink and taking a long sip to hide his smugness. Images of the last Slytherin party filled his mind, like when Sebastian danced into their shared room and took his hand before eagerly dragging him to their secret hideaway. He remembered the feeling of his smooth skin against his fingertips as he shoved him over the arm of the settee he had conjured up and lined up with his entrance; the mental image caused the slight bulge in his trousers to jump. He was pleasantly tipsy, the alcoholic concoction that Imelda made him sending little shivers of warmth through his system and making his thoughts disapparate into a lovely fog. Oh yes, he knew that he would have a good night tonight. What he hadn’t expected was for his other best friend to be a part of it, as well.

Ominis’ ears twitched in the direction of his female companion, hearing your twinkling giggle coming from the dance floor. He could sense the shape of your body dancing against the pelvis of someone else, someone much taller and much more muscular. The soft curves of your body were visible for once to the boy— the sound waves from the thumping music cascaded around you and formed a distinct shape in his mind. You were truly captivating, each sound you made jumped from his ears directly to his heart and more private places. A new feeling of jealousy bubbled under the surface of his skin at the idea of someone else touching you. The man’s hands were on your hips, pressing your behind into his front in a raunchy show of lust. A deep chuckle filled his ears, his eyebrows stitching together in annoyance. Weasley. That rat had his hands on his best friend, drawing those delicious mewls from your throat. He could hear your harsh breathing from his post; you were absolutely panting in need. Your hips gyrated on the redhead’s lap, swinging back and forth in captivating circles that caused Ominis’ mind to go to some dark places. He could see the shadow of the Gryffindor’s pinky enter the band of your skirt, his head tip towards your stretched taut neck, and his vision filled with red. Jealousy flooded his body at the thought of Garreth Weasley, of all people, touching something that was rightfully his . He didn’t know when his subconscious had taken ownership of you, but in that moment it was singing for revenge.

Absolutely not. Fuck that.

Downing the rest of his drink, the blond slammed his goblet on the nearest bookshelf and stalked towards the pair grinding on each other. Steam seemed to come out of his nose in anger like a charging bull. Grasping you by her shoulder in a strong grip, he spun you away from the redhead and pressed your backside against his front, a protective arm wrapped around the top of your chest. Ominis glowered at the startled Gryffindor, shoving a finger against his chest and sending him stumbling back slightly.

“No Gryffindor’s allowed, get out.”

Garreth stuttered in confusion and outrage, gesturing with his hands to the people around him. “What, who said that?”

Ominis growled, “I did. Now leave, Weaselby, before I make you.”

With a huff, the redhead stalked off of the dance floor, mumbling about how he didn’t even want to be there anyway. The blond smirked triumphantly in his direction, raising his hand from his side and twiddling his fingers in a snarky goodbye. The woman he had taken wiggled against his chest slightly, turning your head towards his arm and looking up at his face.

“Ominis, what was that—”

He squeezed the arm across your chest tighter, pressing you back further into his chest. It was now or never, he supposed. He leaned down towards your ear, his hot breath fanning against your pulse point with captivating warmth. He nosed at the base of your throat, dragging the tip up, up, up and behind your ear, slightly nibbling at the cuff before pulling away and hovering his lips over your ear canal.

“Saucy thing, you are, thinking you could dance with someone else when you belong to Sebastian and I.”

Your breathing caught in your throat, a warmth spreading down your chest and straight down to what was between your legs at his tone of voice. You had never heard Ominis sound so hot and bothered before.

He chuckled at how tense you had gotten, licking the edge of your ear and whispering, “Only we are allowed to touch you like that, darling.”

Ominis had never thought these words about his companion, never once considered the idea of them being together, but something about it felt so damned right. Your heartbeat stuttered against his arm, speeding up to a rapid rate. You gasped a small sigh, your breath fluttering out of your chest in captivated bliss.

“Ominis, I—”

“Shh, pet.” He leaned down once again and pressed his lips to the part where your shoulder met your throat, leaving a bruising kiss on the skin. “Just let me worship you.”

He didn’t think that your heart could beat any faster— the organ thumping against your rib cage at the speed of a hummingbird's wings. Ominis smiled against your skin, lightly biting where he had kissed and beginning to move his hips against your plump rear. His hot breath fluttered over your neck and down your chest, a soft “fuck,” leaving his mouth at the new friction. The crassness of his language sent another burst of warmth to your most intimate place; the blond very rarely swore, and the taboo-ness of it sent a shiver down your spine in pleasure. You slowly began to rotate your hips against the lithe man, pressing further into his pelvic bone and feeling his prominent arousal against your lower back. Soft moans of pleasure drifted out of your parted lips, your eyes shut in ecstasy as a hand reached up and buried itself into the man’s silken hair. His other arm stretched around your waist, gripping your skin there with enough pressure to leave fingerprints on you tomorrow. If you were to die here, on that dance floor, you would consider it a blessing.

In your state of bliss, you did not notice the second man approaching the pair of you from the front. Another pair of strong arms wrapped around your form, one hand resting on the small of your back and the other pressing the blond closer by his rear. A familiar, gruff voice filled the ears of the two.

“Please, don’t let me stop you both from enjoying yourself.” Sebastian laughed breathily against the other side of your neck, releasing you from his grip, pulling the collar of your shirt down slightly further, and pressing a hot, open mouthed kiss on your newly exposed shoulder. You were now sandwiched between your two best friends, and Merlin, you loved every second of it. Sebastian grinded his hard-on against the front of your clothed center, drawing a startled whimper from your throat and a buck of your hips against his. He groaned softly, his hand trailing to your neck and closing around it, slightly cutting off your air supply. Ominis grasped the brunette by the scruff of his neck, pulling him slightly further into the throes of your hot bodies and pushing him to mouth at his pulse point. A near silent moan rumbled against your back, his voice bleeding into your sensitive skin and lighting your nerves on fire.

Visions filled your mind of the two boys and what you wanted them to do to you.

You were on your back, stripped of your clothes and your legs spread and pressed up near your ears. The brunette pounded into you with the strength of ten men, sending pleasurable shock waves through your entire body and causing a cascade of moans to leave your open throat. Ominis soon joined you both in the sweet sin, crawling towards the pair of students on his hands and knees with a look of hunger decorating his face. He leaned up and whispered something in Sebastian’s ear, grinning in delighted villainy. Sebastian smirked down at you, grasping you by the hips and flipping you quickly over onto your stomach, pulling your rear towards his awaiting cock and sliding in once again. You mewled at the new angle that his hot member could reach inside you. Ominis made his way to your face, his cock swinging in your eyesight and causing your mouth to water. He lifted your chin, gently rubbing his thumb against your cheekbone and smiling down at you. He pressed the tip of his dick against your slightly parted lips, dragging it along your bottom lip and wetting it with his excitement.

He swore at the feeling, whispering, “Be a good girl and pleasure me with your mouth. I want to feel your moans around my hard cock. Let me know how much you’re enjoying us.”

Your jaw went slack at his words, eyes rolling into the back of your head at the dirty words that flowed from his kiss-bruised lips. He took your hair into his hand, gathering it up into a ponytail at the base of your skull before pulling you gently forward and letting your lips wrap around his head. You stuck your tongue out and ran it along the prominent vein on the underside, drawing a stuttered moan from the boy above you. The one behind you gave you a particularly harsh thrust, pressing your soft behind roughly against his crotch. You groaned at the feeling, sending vibrations around the swollen member filling your mouth and throat.

A sharp tug at your hair brought you back to reality, both boys harshly grinding against you at the same time sending a moan rocketing out of your lips. Ominis laughed behind you, leaning down and whispering in your ear, “Dirty girl! Thinking those crass things about us and what we could do to you. Were those thoughts just for me to see?”

Fuck. You forgot he was a legilimens.

He laughed even more when you stiffened against him in embarrassed shock. He leaned away from you, instead slightly craning his neck towards the other boy you were sandwiched between.

“Sebastian, if only you could see the things going through her mind right now. It’s downright filthy.”

The boy groaned at the sharp thrust the blond made against you, sending your clothed heat directly into his waiting, throbbing bulge, before humming in thought against the side of your neck.

“I suppose we should go fulfill her dreams, then.”

The men detached themselves from you, both grabbing a hand and pulling you towards the direction of the exit. Hoots and hollers could be heard at their back, their fellow Slytherin’s cheering them on for the show. Ominis could hear Imelda amongst the masses, cheering alongside them and shouting, “About bloody time, ya bastards!”

You three stumbled out of the common room exit and spilled into the castle dungeon hallway, giggles wracking your frames as the warmth of firewhiskey and pure arousal burned through your bodies. Sebastian quickly turned towards you, wrapping an arm around your waist and heaving you over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. You laughed hysterically, hands playing bongos against his peachy rump. He swatted yours in return, before turning towards the Grand Staircase and sprinting off towards the Undercroft, Ominis on his heels and laughing into the wind.

The three of you bounded down the abandoned castle halls, laughter bouncing off the tall ceilings and echoing into the beautiful night sky. Ghosts watched as you all passed by, before turning their heads back towards each other and shrugging, softly smiling at the feeling of young love shedding off of the trio in waves.

Sebastian did not place you back on the ground until you crossed the threshold of the secret hideaway. As soon as your feet touched stone once again, he quickly pulled you against his chest and brought your lips to his, teeth clashing together in his rush and desire to feel your kiss for the first time. Ominis listened to both of your sounds, his cock pulsing once again and threatening to burst through the zipper of his trousers. He quickly transformed three of the crates lined up next to each other into a large, four poster bed. He ran towards the cushioned surface, leaping into the air and body slamming on to the linen quilt adorning the top. He laughed heartily into the blanket before turning on to his back and leaning against the bed frame, his legs crossed elegantly in front of him and his arms raising to cross behind his head in relaxation.

The brunette released you from the bruising kiss, looking over to his companion across the room and feeling a large smile stretch across his cheeks. He grasped your hand in his, pulling you towards the large bed and lifting you up, setting you down right on the edge and pushing his way between your thighs. His arms caged you on either side of your hips as his lips found yours again, tongue tracing your bottom lip and asking for access to your awaiting mouth. You laughed against his soft lips before opening yours, deepening the kiss and drawing a growl from his chest. You felt the blond behind you push your hair to the side, leaning down and nibbling at your pulse point once again. His teeth nipped at your skin before smoothing away the slight pain with his tongue, doing this all the way up your neck and stopping just below your jawbone where he sucked a dark hickey into your skin. His hands trailed down your shoulders and over your chest, slowly undoing the laces of your corset and throwing it over the side of the bed before grabbing your collared shirt by the top and pulling it apart. Buttons broke away from the fabric and scattered along the stone ground, but you couldn’t care less if they suddenly came to life and started doing a tap dance routine— you would tell them to fuck right off and leave you to the absolute pleasure you were about to experience.

Sebastian hungrily grasped at the skin of your waist, now exposed to the cooling air of the Undercroft and littering you with goosebumps. He slid his palms up your sides before brushing his thumbs gently against the band of your brassiere, his mouth still ravishing yours. You nodded your head minutely against his lips, and he slid his fingers carefully under the fabric, tracing your rib cage and sending a shudder down your spine. Ominis put his nimble fingers to use once again, unhooking the stays at the front and sliding the straps down your shoulders before tossing the undergarment in the same direction of your shirt.

You shifted on the bed, bringing your body to kneel in the middle of the mattress. Your chest was heaving in lust, a rouge color spreading from your cheeks to your collarbones. Sebastian stood enraptured by the rise and fall of your breasts, your nipples standing at attention in arousal. He quickly made his way fully onto the bed, kicking off his boots and yanking the tie around his neck undone before kneeling at your side, each thigh pressed on either side of yours and his hardness rubbing against the area where your thigh met your hip. He grasped at one of your breasts, shoving his face back into your neck and biting . He could hear the other man do the same on the other side of you before assuming the same position as the brunette. Ominis pawed at your other breast, taking your nipple between his pointer finger and thumb and pinching it while capturing your lips with his. Both boys kissed you with a bruising strength, biting at your bottom lip in ownership and sending fire to your loins. Sebastian reached around your hips, undoing the button at the side of your skirt and shucking it from your body, leaving you just in your knickers. Moans and whimpers filled the space around you, the three of you deep in the throes of pleasure.

Ominis pulled away, your lips chasing his in a desperate attempt to keep the kiss going. He grabbed ahold of your throat, gently squeezing your windpipe and turning your head in his direction. He spoke directly to you, his voice flushed with absolute debauchery and seriousness. "Say the word and this stops right now. I need your explicit consent before this goes any farther."

He released your neck so you could reply to his demand. Your heart fluttered slightly at his concern for your well being; you didn't need to think hard about your decision at all. "Yes, I want this, Ominis. From the both of you." You grinned cheekily at his predatory gaze, meeting it in a silent challenge. You were nothing if not competitive. You giggled at his shift in demeanor, whispering teasingly against his lips, "My safe word is Graphorn."

The blond barked a laugh, before grasping you by the neck once again and pulling you back in for a searing kiss.

With your consent still fresh in the air, Sebastian leaned back against the plush pillows, dragging your body down with him and twisting you so your back was against his chest and his feet held your legs apart. Ominis could smell your arousal, similar to your normal scent but more musky, more primal. He licked his lips hungrily, his pupils blowing up to twice their size. He felt around the bed, finding first the brunette’s leg and then one of yours. He slotted himself between your supple thighs, elbows bent and pushing down further on both sides while his fingertips dug into the meat of your hips. He breathed hotly against your clothed sex, mouthing at the damp cloth and drawing a loud gasp from your open lips. Sebastian continued to fondle at your chest, taking turns twisting each nipple between his two fingers and squeezing at the soft flesh. Ominis turned towards your left inner thigh, placing open mouthed kisses at the burning flesh and sucking hickeys into your skin before turning to the other thigh and doing the same. More lust filled mewls spilled from your lips and were swallowed by the plush comforter below. The blond grasped at the sides of your panties, silently asking for permission to fully expose yourself to the both of them. You went to nod your head, but thought better and instead stretched your hand towards the boy, running your fingers through his hair and pulling lightly. He nipped at your hip in warning before pulling the cloth down your legs— you raising your hips slightly to help him get them all the way off. He was the one in charge tonight, not you, with your increasingly strong ancient magic and domineering personality. The hums that slid from your throat filled the blond with pride, his ego expanding tenfold. He was doing this to you; he was the one reducing your once boisterous energy to complete putty at his hands and mouth.

You were now completely nude before your best friends. Sebastian choked on his inhale at the sight of your glistening lips, absolutely dripping with arousal and emitting enough heat to keep them warm all winter. Ominis stretched his lips in a wide, toothy smile, looking very similar to the Cheshire cat, and whispered against your dripping cunt.

“You smell so wonderful. I am going to devour you.”

He then dove into your sweet paradise, lapping at your folds like a starving dog and drawing loud groans from your chest. Each flick of his tongue sent a shock wave of pleasure through your stomach, the knot in your lower abdomen beginning to form and tighten. Sebastian continued his assault on your breasts, but you craved even more. Grasping at the ends of his tie still dangling loosely around his neck, you pulled him roughly under your arm and brought his mouth level with your heaving chest. The boy got the message quickly, taking your nipple between his teeth and lightly biting— his other hand reaching around and tweaking the other once again. You cried out in pleasure, their names flowing into the air and disappearing like a puff of smoke. Ominis moved up towards your throbbing clit, taking it in his mouth and sucking it. Your cries got louder, your orgasm teetering at the very edge of the precipice. Each wiggle of your hips rubbed against the straining bulge in Sebastian’s pants, causing him to groan and rut against you in desire. Ominis couldn’t take the sounds of both of your moans, his composure completely dissolving around him and leaving him panting and thrusting his hips against the silk sheets. Each of his groans sent a vibration through your clit, heightening your pleasure and sending more whimpers from your lips.

"Fuck! Ominis, Sebastian."

You distantly remembered a conversation you had with Imelda a few days ago about his particularly long fingers when he ran his middle finger along your opening before slowly entering your pussy. Absolutely abhorrent sounds flowed from where your opening met his hand, wet noises filling the room and permeating the air with the smell of sex. He listened to your arousal spiking in captivated awe, pushing in a second finger and curling them against the spot that made you see stars. It became a competition about who would cum first, you, Sebastian, or Ominis. Both boys continued to rut against you and the bed respectively while also providing you immense amounts of pleasure. Your legs shook, an inhuman strength ripping them away from their confinement, and clamping around the face of the handsome blond. Ominis grasped onto your thigh with his free hand, shoving you deeper into his awaiting mouth. If this was where he died, he would go out a happy man. The knot in your stomach pulled taut, threatening to snap at any moment. Your hips were moving against your will, circling and bucking into the air while you chased the orgasm just out of your reach. You pulled harder at the blond’s hair, a loud grunt leaving him and causing a harsh thrust against the mattress below him. One particularly hard bump downwards and against Sebastian’s cock made him exhale harshly out of his nose and roughly bite at the skin of your side to muffle his shout. You felt his teeth sink into you and draw blood, and with that little taste of pain, the knot inside you snapped and you were launched into sweet oblivion.

Ominis happily helped you through your orgasm, gently licking the slick from your leaking cunt and cleaning up the cum that spilled out of you. You whined from over-stimulation, and with a chuckle he detached his lips from your dripping pussy and leaned up on his elbows, resting his chin against your pubic bone and listening to the sweet sounds that flowed from your throat; your drippings coated his mouth and chin, glittering in the low lamplight.

In your blissed-out state, you decided that your boys were wearing far too many pieces of clothing. You tugged at their sleeves, hoping that they would get the message without you having to say anything. You did not trust your voice at the moment, your bones feeling like jelly inside your skin. Luckily they did, and Ominis stood up from the bed and began to quickly disrobe. Sebastian followed soon after, gently moving you from his chest and resting you against the soft pillows as you continued to hopelessly try and catch your breath. You turn to the side and gaze at your best friends, their hands fumbling uselessly around the other’s body and pulling at the cloth like it’ll come off on its own. Their mouths clashed together, uncouth moans spilling from their mouths only to be swallowed by the other. Ominis reached his hands down frantically towards Sebastian’s belt, threading the leather through the buckle and unlatching it, quickly pulling it from his belt loops and tossing it to the ground with a loud clang. Sebastian undid the buttons of the Gaunt boy’s shirt, throwing it off of his shoulders and chucking it to the ground like it affronted him. He mouthed hotly against the blond's collarbone, causing Ominis to throw his head back and whine . Pure burning heat shot down to your pussy at the sound and made your clit throb. The boy threaded his fingers through the brunette’s curly hair, gliding up the back and stopping just at the back of his skull before yanking as hard as he could. It was Sebastian’s turn to whine, and you had never heard a more beautiful, more filthy sound. Ominis let go of his hair and clasped his hand around his throat, squeezing slightly like the brunette had done to you in the common room. With his other hand, he undid the buttons of his companion’s shirt, tossing it unceremoniously somewhere in the vast cavern below Hogwarts, before shoving his trousers and pants down his toned thighs, leaving him bare and ready. Ominis then grabbed at his burning cock, giving it a sharp stroke. The brunette’s head fell back in pleasure, a silent moan leaving his open, smiling mouth.

The blond leaned closer, whispering at the column of his neck, “You go get her ready, I’ll be there in a moment.”

Sebastian turned towards you once again, hunger still burning in his irises, and began to climb back up the bed. He positioned himself between your spread thighs, leaning down and capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His hard cock rubbed against your slick folds, sending moans out of both of your lips only to be swallowed by the other. The tip of his dick found your entrance, slightly pushing in before pausing. A hiss left his clenched teeth as he clutched at the pillows on either side of your head with his fists.

“I am going to ruin that pretty pussy of yours. Please, can I feel you?” He begged against your lips.

“Yes, Merlin, please, yes,” you cooed at him, lashes fluttering at the sweet taste of fullness.

Slowly, he began to stretch you out, the both of you releasing relieved groans in tandem. Slight pain knit your eyebrows together, and the boy inside you kissed at the wrinkles until it disapparated into sweet pleasure. You could feel every ridge of him inside you, he filled you up so well. Needy whines left your throat at each thrust, the heat of his member absolutely setting your insides on fire. You had never been so happy to burn. You grasped at the comforter under you, your knuckles turning white in the strength of your grip.

Just like your dream, Ominis crawled onto the bed and smiled at you like a predator hunting his prey. You were suddenly on your stomach, and Sebastian was pounding into you from behind with the greediest grip on your hips. The blond boy tilted your head up, his weeping cock inches from your mouth.

He chuckled at your fucked-out expression. “Let’s make that dream of yours a reality, hmm?”

You nodded, opening your mouth and allowing him to slide into your throat. He groaned at the sweet, wet feeling of your mouth around him, gathering your hair and holding it gently as he rocked his hips against you. You stuck your tongue out, letting him slide even deeper and vibrating his entire member with your moans. He gripped at your hair harder, fully fucking your face.

His eyes shut tightly in raptured pleasure, his mouth falling open and moans leaving his throat at a volume that would make a nun blush. He groaned, whispering from his very soul, “This is so much better than I ever imagined. Take my cock just like that, my darling. You’re doing so good, sweet girl.”

You nearly came on the spot from his filthy words. Sebastian growled behind you, thrusting faster into your boiling heat. You felt his hips stutter— he was getting close. You reached your hand down in between your legs in ecstasy, finding your button and circling it with your middle finger. Moans poured from your mouth like a leaking faucet, each vocalization sending Ominis closer to his own release. He heard the sound of you playing with yourself and he bit his lip, running his fingers through your hair in a strange moment of gentleness.

“Yes, my darling, pleasure yourself. Make yourself cum on his delicious cock. Show us exactly what we do to you— how we make you feel.”

Your steadily creeping second orgasm hit its all time spike at his direction. You circle your bud even faster, rocking back and meeting the brunette’s thrusts. He swore, grabbing your hips with a bruising strength as he felt you clench around him as your release tore through you. Ominis groaned at your sounds, quickly pulling his leaking member out of your mouth and edging off his orgasm.

"Shit,” he whispered, “I have to feel your hot cunt. I need to be inside you.”

He felt around the bed, sliding down underneath you and lining up with your bruised pussy. Sebastian stilled in his movements, pulling out and causing you to whine at the sudden emptiness inside you. He leaned back on his hands, closing his eyes and trying to steady his rapid breathing. Ominis shifted under you until he was in the perfect spot, tapping you lightly on the thigh and grabbing at your waist.

“Slide down on me, my darling. I crave you. I want your heat wrapped around me.”

You quickly complied, spreading your shaking knees further apart and slowly lowering yourself onto his swollen cock with little assistance. Ominis’ mouth dropped open in a silent moan, the warmth and tightness around him sending stars behind his eyes.

You groan above him, giving in to the dirty talk flowing around the room and gathering in the air, “You feel so good inside me. You both do, fuck.”

That was enough for the blond boy to lose his last shred of composure. With renewed strength, he grabbed you by the rear and began pounding into you like an animal in heat. Both of your voices blended together in sweet, blissful harmony.

Sebastian watched the show before him like it was the last thing he would ever see. He leaned back up on his knees behind you, spreading your cheeks and gently thumbing at your other hole. A startled gasp escaped out of your mouth and you pushed back lightly on his finger. He groaned in agony, wetting his thumb in your juices and slowly stretching you out. He didn’t know that you could get louder. If the room wasn’t so far below the school, he was sure they would somehow get caught. He carefully pumped in and out of you, feeling the other man thrusting into you through your skin. He slowly eased in two more fingers, stretching you out enough so he could fit himself inside. Once satisfied with his job, he took his still throbbing member and rubbed it along your wetness, gathering enough to serve as lube.

He leaned down over you, the head of his cock pressing lightly against your ass, and kissed a freckle on the back of your shoulder before groaning against your skin.

“May I please enter you again, my love? Do you think you can handle the both of us at once? You dirty girl, I know these pretty holes of yours can take it.”

You nodded your head rapidly, nearly giving yourself whiplash in your aroused excitement— a sound very similar to the word “please” made its way out of your mewling throat. Sebastian slowly pushed in, his teeth biting into your shoulder, drawing blood once again at the tightness surrounding him, before gently thrusting in and out. You were filled to the brim with pleasure, rocking back and forth against both of your boys and matching their rhythms. The feeling of their members rubbing against each other inside of you sent both boys rocketing close to their orgasms.

Sebastian panted against your shoulder, echoing an earlier statement from the blond below the both of you, “Merlin, you're beautiful. Touch yourself, pretty girl. Cum around our cocks.”

You brought your hand back down to where you and Ominis were connected, rubbing frantically against your clit and speeding yourself closer to your orgasm. No words were said from the three friends, each lost in their own personal raptures.

Stars danced behind your closed eyelids, your third orgasm crashing over you like a sudden wave, thrice as strong as the other two. You cry out both of your friend’s names, clenching around their throbbing members and sending them both into a state of pure bliss. You felt them release inside of both of your holes, their delicious cum painting your inner walls white. Your legs gave out, sending you sprawling across the chest of the blond boy under you and bringing down the brunette at your back with you. The three of you lied there for a moment, panting as the breath desperately tried to enter your lungs once again, before the blond began to struggle under the combined weight of you both.

Now on your sides, your head resting on Ominis’ chest and Sebastian’s arm strewn across your waist, you let your eyes shut into the beginnings of a blissful sleep. The brunette took a deep breath, preparing to speak and inevitably ask what all of this means now— he was always the more anxious of the three— when the blond patted around his cheek with his hand before eventually landing across his mouth. He quietly shushed the brown eyed Slytherin, smiling in happiness and whispering against the tuft of your hair tickling his nose.

“Quiet, we’ll talk about it tomorrow. Just sleep now.”

Sebastian thought for a moment before shrugging against your back, tucking himself closer to his two best friends and digging deeper under the soft covers, a soft smile dancing at the corners of his mouth. Ominis closed his eyes, a fullness filling his chest and sending butterflies into his stomach. Yes, they would all talk about it tomorrow, and inevitably admit the feelings that they had been most definitely harboring for the others in their trio for a long while. But for now, the three students were lulled into a gentle sleep, the sounds of each other's heartbeats filling their ears and becoming the sweetest lullaby each of you had ever heard.

***

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