#of like who buck is on the outside verses who he is inside verses who he was

[chheese-mmmhh]

fine i’ll say it…i think bucktommy is fine but him solely calling buck “evan” is a little blech to me…and that’s mostly just from a storytelling perspective because before this “evan” meant something… it was either used by his parents to show they don’t understand him or by maddie to show that she’s seeing him as her kid brother in that moment or by eddie just to show that he sees him and the conversation is important…and even then it was used very sparingly so the name didn’t lose its meaning but now we hear it so often it just seems like it doesn’t have as much meaning as it used to

[devildom-moss]

February poll story

NSFW - Simeon x Barbatos x MC

(Barbatos x Simeon x gn!MC)

(NSFW) (switch!verse!Barbatos / switch(/bratty sub?)!bottom!Simeon / dom!top!MC) (poly/threesome; MC with cock/strap-on; partially outdoor sex; exhibitionism; voyeurism; oral - receiving/strap sucking; anal - giving Simeon and Barbatos; frottage; Simeon gets double stuffed because he's a good boy; slightly cruel and teasing MC; but also plenty of soft MC; multiple orgasms - but no MC orgasm specified; no condom (bad, don't do); anal creampie; cum used as lube (also bad); begging, fingering; handjob; overstim; praise; pet names "good boy(s)" "angel"; slight degradation (slut-praising?); slight aftercare mentions) (established relationship with Simeon; relationship hierarchy) (no plot, all horny)

Word Count: +2,900

“You’re so fucking pretty like this.” You bent down to whisper in Simeon’s ear, keeping your length still inside him as he squirmed, desperate for the slightest bit of friction. You smirked. “So. Fucking. Pretty, angel.”

“Please –” Simeon begged, grinding back against your hips “– more.”

You straightened your spine and placed your hand on the small of Simeon’s back, making him arch against the railing of Purgatory Hall’s balcony. A quarter moon hung in the sky, providing just enough light to make his skin glisten, highlighting every soft edge of his body. He was luminous. The view of the stars twinkling above mountains and over colorful city lights was overshadowed when you had Simeon bent over the rail and moaning on your cock/strap. His skin burned from arousal, and the cool night air felt nice against his burning cheeks as desperation rose in him. How much more would his skin burn if he could think about the potential of someone looking up and seeing him? It bore repeating:

“So. Fucking. Pretty.” You punctuated each word by sliding out of him and thrusting back in with a ravenous force, earning a soft groan every time. Dissolving into a mess of lust and pleasure, Simeon was reduced to whimpers and loud, needy whining.

Those noises echoed into the hall, where they alerted Barbatos, who had stopped by to deliver some sweets that he had baked. Simeon was supposed to be all alone for the weekend, and Barbatos was worried that the angel might get lonely. Upon hearing Simeon groaning, Barbatos used magic to rush into Purgatory Hall and scanned for the source of the noise. The doors to the balcony were left open. Barbatos felt a cold breeze blow in, carrying the sound of Simeon’s moans on the wind. He ran outside.

“Simeon! Are you –” Barbatos stopped dead in his tracks. He should have known better.

You and Simeon both turned to the entrance to see Barbatos standing there. Simeon wanted to look shocked, but all he could manage was a blissful, desperate stare – his mouth still agape and his eyes glossy. He tightened around you, and you smirked at the sudden sensation. Well, Barbatos had already caught you, and if you were going to get in trouble anyway, you might as well keep going.  Besides, you couldn’t resist teasing Simeon. You pulled out halfway, feeling his resistance, and bucked your hips back into him.

“Simeon,” you cooed, “You got so tight when Barbatos caught us. Do you like being watched that much, my angel? Should we give him a show?”

“MC, wait, please,” Simeon whined as he tried to push himself upright. But you didn’t wait. You thrust into him, rubbing up against his prostate. He steadied himself against the railing. His sweet moans flooded the air, and without thinking, Simeon started to rock back onto you. The pleasure grew until the cusp of an orgasm brought him back to his senses. “Wait, wait. I’m –”

Yet again, you didn’t wait. Why should you? He was still grinding on you like a desperate little cumslut. You brought his hips against yours as he came over the edge of the balcony with a loud groan. Simeon bent back over the railing and buried his face in his arms, absolutely humiliated.

The mortifying silence in Simeon’s post-orgasm comedown was broken by a chuckle from Barbatos’s direction. Barbatos mused aloud, “Oh my, you know, I was actually worried for a second. I should have figured even you would indulge in such activities.”

You laughed along with Barbatos as you slowly pulled out of Simeon. Despite your careful motion, Simeon still whimpered at the emptiness. He immediately stood upright, turned to you, and attempted to hide himself in the crook of your neck. The feeling of his hot breath and soft lips moving against you as he apologized profusely only made you want to tease him all over again.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologized again, tilting his head so that Barbatos might hear him more clearly. “I didn’t mean to cum in front of you.”

When he was this adorably embarrassed, you also felt the need to dote on him. You scratched his head, massaging small circles into his scalp, and pulled back just enough to kiss his hair. With sweetness laced into your voice, you reminded him, “He stayed and watched, angel. I don’t think there’s anything to apologize for – not if that bulge in his pants is being honest.”

Simeon shivered against you and turned his eyes to Barbatos, catching his gaze before lowering it down the demon’s body. Desire reignited in him. Barbatos set the bag he had brought over down on the nearby table with a mischievous grin. “Can you blame me for getting aroused – watching a cruel, teasing master and their precious, little slut?”

The words burned in Simeon’s ears. You knew that Simeon loved knowing he was yours; to hear Barbatos call him your slut probably validated those sweet little fantasies in his head. As if you wanted to take him down a peg, you turned to Barbatos and asked, “would you like to try being a precious, little slut, too – if my angel doesn’t mind, of course?”

When you looked back at Simeon, he took your hand and brought it up to his cheek. He leaned into your touch and shook his head while nuzzling into your palm. Barbatos took his cue, and without another word, he loosened his tie and walked over to you. In one obedient gesture, Barbatos dropped to his knees at your feet and stared up at you seductively. Then, he shifted his eyes to Simeon, holding his gaze as he licked up your shaft before taking you deep down his throat. His tongue swirled around you as he pulled back, and he left kitten licks on your tip. Simeon squirmed under the heat of Barbatos’s eyes.

“Barbatos.” You clicked your tongue and tilted his gaze back to you. “I believe Simeon has had enough of your leering eyes.”

Your attention to his comfort gave Simeon butterflies; he leaned into your ear and begged seductively, “Can I help Barbatos while he cleans you up? Please?”

“Can he?” you asked Barbatos, placing your hand under his chin and running your thumb along his jawline. Barbatos pulled away from your cock/strap, saliva staining those pretty lips. He smiled up at you blissfully, showing off his sharp canines, and glanced at Simeon quickly. Then, returning his eyes to you, Barbatos bit his lower lip and nodded twice before opening his mouth and taking you halfway down his throat. You groaned and rolled your head back. Collecting yourself, you turned to Simeon and leaned over to kiss him – messy and heated. When you pulled away, you relished his lecherous gaze and gentle panting. “Play nice, angel.”

Simeon walked around Barbatos and kneeled behind him, crawling between his legs. Simeon’s hands wandered from Barbatos’s hips up to his chest. Slowly, with lingering caresses, Simeon helped Barbatos strip out of his shirt. He groped the demon and teased him through his pants with a touch unbefitting an angel. With your cock/strap still down his throat, Barbatos groaned, causing Simeon to giggle.

“You’re pretty cute, aren’t you, Barbatos?” Simeon cooed into his ear, feeling Barbatos twitch through the fabric under his hand. Still rubbing Barbatos with one hand, Simeon used the other to undo Barbatos’s pants, finally freeing his dick. Eagerly, Simeon stroked Barbatos, earning more moans from the demon. Simeon slowly stripped Barbatos of his pants and underwear as he teased him, “You’re so hard. Do my hands feel that good?”

Barbatos’s cheeks were flushed pink as he bobbed his head on your cock/strap, trying to match the pace of Simeon’s hands. You watched his brows knit together. His chest heaved. A loud whimper escaped him. Simeon hummed and showed you his cum-painted hands. Barbatos, as diligent as ever, continued to serve you.

“Good boy. That’s enough, now.” You ran your fingers through Barbatos’s hair and pulled his head back. His tongue slipped out of his mouth, shiny and slick with saliva, as he caught his breath.

It was hard not to lose your composure when Barbatos stared up at you like that – like he was silently begging for more. The dim moonlight illuminated his face, emphasizing the blush that rose up to his ears. Unfortunately, Simeon wouldn’t let your attention stay fixed on Barbatos for long, and he brought his cum-stained hand up to your cock/strap, using Barbatos’s cum to lube you up.

“Shit –” you hissed. That was sexy. You let Simeon do his job while Barbatos’s lower lip trembled in anticipation. When you were coated, you looked down, catching Barbatos’s gaze, and instructed him: “Turn around and bend over.”

Simeon tried to move out of the way as Barbatos turned, but the demon caught his arm. With one hand, Barbatos grabbed his clothes, balled them into a makeshift pillow, and set it down behind Simeon. Barbatos pushed Simeon down on his back, using the clothes to cushion Simeon’s head, and crawled over him. He scoffed through a wicked grin. “Oh no you don’t, little angel. After that, you’re not getting away so easily. I’m sorry if this is uncomfortable, but I need you to bear with it for a while.”

It was hard to believe that you had gotten so lucky as to get both Simeon and Barbatos below you. You joined them on the ground and aligned yourself against Barbatos’s ass. Without warning or preparation, you grabbed his hips and pushed into him, spreading him open with your tip. Barbatos gasped.

“MC!” Simeon glared at you over Barbatos’s shoulder, and scolded, “You should have prepared him.”

“Actually, my angel, you should have prepared him. Besides, I couldn’t let all of Barbatos’s hot cum go to waste, now could I?” Your tone was cold yet teasing, and Simeon’s defiance crumbled into a pout. You pushed yourself deeper into Barbatos’s ass – still only half-way inside. Barbatos groaned and panted, trying to relax and loosen up.

“I’m sorry, Barbatos.” Simeon sighed and brought his clean hand up to Barbatos’s cheek, caressing him gently as he endured the slight discomfort. “Do you want me to distract you with a kiss?”

“Yes,” Barbatos squeaked out as you pushed deeper. He squeezed his eyes shut and leaned closer to Simeon, but to his surprise, Simeon’s lips didn’t meet his. Instead, Simeon reached between their bodies, grabbed both of their dicks in his hand, and started to stroke them simultaneously. Simeon whined and Barbatos moaned, rolling his head back and arching his ass up. He was so overwhelmed that he was able to take you to the base. Fuck, they were cute. When the initial wave of pleasure died down, Barbatos grit his teeth and growled. “You dirty fucking tease.”

Unlike you, Barbatos had the decency to prepare Simeon’s ass before fucking him – although he did have your cock/strap in him just a few minutes ago. Barbatos balanced himself on one arm and stuck his fingers in Simeon’s mouth, teasing his tongue. Being so obediently trained, Simeon sucked on Barbatos’s fingers until they were all wet. Between your hips slapping against him as you filled him up and the feeling of Simeon’s hot tongue, Barbatos found it hard to focus. He pulled his fingers out of Simeon’s mouth with a pop and slipped them into the angel’s ass, stretching him out slowly.

You took a wicked pleasure in watching them both fall apart, melting into pants and moans. Barbatos was at his limit. The sight of Simeon writhing under him, still stroking their cocks simultaneously, was too sexy. Barbatos took his fingers out of Simeon and pulled his hips back, forcing your cock/strap deep inside himself. He aligned his aching cock with Simeon’s ass and pushed into him – your thrusting nudging him deeper than he intended.

“You’re so tight, angel,” Barbatos groaned, finally burying himself to the hilt. “No wonder you’re MC’s precious little slut.”

“My favorite little slut,” you corrected him. Your tone softened to lather on a bit of praise, “and my good angel.”

Simeon’s face burned from both of your words – but your praise ruined him more than he wanted to admit. He would do anything to hear you praise him more – for you to call him “yours.” Your sweetness made his hard cock twitch against Barbatos’s stomach.

“What does that make me? Your good demon?” Barbatos tried to tease you through his moaning as his thrusting picked up. He synced up with you, slamming his hips back when you rocked into him. “Your second favorite toy? Better than eighth, I suppose.”

You chuckled in his ear, acknowledging his little joke. As good as he was making you feel, you were pleased that he knew his place. You rewarded him with quicker, harder thrusts. In a low whisper, you praised them both, “my good boys.”

Barbatos moaned your name as he tightened around you, and his thrusting got erratic until, at last, he came inside Simeon. He didn’t even have enough time to come down from his high before you pulled out of him, earning a pathetic, needy whine from the demon.

“MC,” Simeon interrupted, moaning your name like a sweet, desperate plea.

It was all too clear that he wanted more. As precious as Simeon was when he begged for more, and as much as that turned you on, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave him unsatisfied tonight. You gently pushed Barbatos down onto Simeon – forcing him deeper but also giving you just enough access to shove your cock/strap into Simeon’s ass. They both whined and gasped.

“MC, please,” Barbatos whimpered.

“Don’t be selfish, Barbatos,” you scolded him teasingly. “My poor angel didn’t get to cum a second time yet.”

Barbatos looked down at Simeon’s pleading face and nodded. He started to rock his hips again and used one hand to play with Simeon’s chest, pinching and rolling his thumb over Simeon’s nipples. A bit of overstimulation was worth it to watch Simeon’s face twist up in desperate lust as he whined and moaned. Simeon wrapped his arms around Barbatos’s neck, and their lips crashed in a sloppy, hazy kiss. It was a sweet, tender distraction from the pleasure ravaging them both – and Simeon would do anything to savor the feeling of you and Barbatos filling him up. But Barbatos could feel Simeon throbbing against his stomach and tightening around you both, and he broke the kiss, causing Simeon to whine again.

“No more kissing, angel,” Barbatos growled through his panting. “Let me see that face as you cum again.”

Simeon’s eyes screwed shut and his moans hit a fever pitch as he came all over Barbatos’s chest and stomach. When he opened his eyes, Barbatos was staring down at him affectionately. Simeon craned his neck to catch a glimpse of you behind Barbatos. His voice was spent, and he wasn’t certain he had the energy to speak, so he mouthed the words “thank you.”

“Cutie,” you teased.

You grinned and slowly pulled out of Simeon. Apparently, his voice was strong enough for a quiet yelp. Barbatos sighed, trying to calm himself. As you got to your feet, you looked down at them and started to laugh. Barbatos’s back was covered in bright pink scratch marks – with some breaking the skin enough to form small pinpoints of blood.

“I might have to start calling you my kitten, angel. You really did a number on his back,” you informed him with a melodious chuckle.

Once again, Simeon was mortified. He slapped his hands up to cover his face, but Barbatos moved them aside by pinning Simeon’s wrists above his head with one hand. Barbatos gave him a reassuring smile. “Not to worry, angel. I quite enjoyed myself with the both of you. I’ve never had a threesome with a human and an angel before. It was an amusing experience – and now I have a temporary memento. Although, I suppose you do, too.”

Finally, Barbatos pulled out of Simeon. As if prompted by an all-commanding narrator, all three of you looked down to watch cum leaking from Simeon. You pulled yourself together, resisting the urge to milk another round out of Simeon that instant, and offered Barbatos a hand up. He took it, stumbling to your side with shaking legs.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. I had a good time, too,” you told Barbatos. You leaned in to kiss him – just passionate enough to pull a content sigh from each of you without riling you up. When you parted, you both offered Simeon a hand, pulling him into your arms. “I think it’s about time to give my good boys a shower – or would you prefer a bath?”

“A shower is fine with me,” Barbatos replied.

“And you, angel? Is a shower good?” you asked, caressing his cheek. Simeon nodded against your hand. You cooed, “my good boy. My sweet angel.”

“Shall I prepare some tea afterwards?” Barbatos offered, slowly returning to baseline. “I can choose something to go with the pastries I brought with me.”

“So that’s what was in that bag,” you laughed as you guided them both back inside. “Yes, Barbatos, thank you. that would be very nice, my sweet demon.”

“Of course, master,” Barbatos teased. Simeon, still in a daze, could only bring himself to pout. Barbatos noticed and stopped in his tracks to snake a hand up Simeon’s neck. “However, I brought them for you, angel.”

Simeon’s face burned, but Barbatos was no better with a noticeable blush on his cheeks as he turned and continued towards the bathroom. You were in for an interesting weekend.

A/N: Sorry I'm a little late on this one. I hope you enjoy this everyone. I hope it's not too out of character... I just really wanted them to get ruined. It felt kinda dirtier than the other stuff I've done. Anyway, yeah. This one's really for the doms/dommes and tops. Also, expect a new poll up March 1st at midnight PST.

[aribarilol]

Soccer | B.Barnes x Reader

Summary: Reader challenges Bucky to a game of soccer, and their competitive side is brought out. I know some people might not like or play soccer, but in this you are really good and trust this is really cute!!

Notes: Did yall see Seb at SDCC 2024?? raaaaahh go see photos rn

♤~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♤

"BUCKY!!" You yell out for your boyfriend from the front yard of the Compound. It was a bright, sunny day and the team had taken full advantage of that. Everyone was sat outside on the lawn, either reading, or chatting and eating. You had taken it upon you to challenge everyone on the team to a game of soccer. You had already whooped Sam, Steve, Clint and Bruce in 1 on 1 matches and was looking for your next opponent. Tony said no because apparently playing soccer was beneath him. Bucky was sitting- more like sulking because he didn't want to be outside. You knew Bucky had a big competitive side, but then again, so did you. Bucky looks up from his spot under a tree, sighs and gets up and walks towards you.

"What is it doll?" He says, and you throw the soccer ball at his chest. "Verse me. 1 on 1. First goal wins." You say as he catches it. "y/n you know I'm not gonna go easy on you, right?" He says, putting the ball on the ground. "Neither am I." You say. You point out whos goal is whos and he agrees. "Don't sulk when I beat you doll. Your ego is already soaring from beating the others." Bucky says, and you grin. Steve had probably gone easy on you, and Bruce didn't really know how to play, so he gave it his best shot- ending up in him tripping over the ball and you scoring anyways- Sam was a little bit tricky, but you found out that if you kept dribbling the ball around, he eventually got puffed out and you could score easily. "Who said you were going to beat me?" You say, grinning. He huffs and starts dribbling the ball towards your goal. Since you were obviously smaller than him, you were able to easily slide your foot in between his feet, dribbling the ball and take possession of it. You crossed Bucky, surprising him as the ball was stolen from him, before he chases after you. Luckily you were good with footwork and were able to keep the ball in possession. 

Bucky was secretly going easy on you, but he would never tell you that. He was grinning on the inside as you avoided his pathetic attempts of re-taking possession of the ball and took the lead, dribbling the ball closer to his goal. He decided he didn't want it to end yet so he ran behind you and picked you up, placing you behind him, as he stole possession of the ball and ran back to your goal. "Hey! That's not fair!! I can't pick you up! Arrgh!" You yell, running after him and he grins. "Too bad!" He says, dribbling the ball. Fine, if he was going to play dirty, so were you. In a burst of speed you run up behind Bucky and slide tackle him, taking out his feet from the floor. He topples over in a heap and you gain back possession of the ball. The bigger they are the harder they fall. Also just going for the feet is easier. He yells at you from the floor and you grin and don't look back. Sam yelled from the edges of the grass, "C'mon Buck! You really gonna take that?? What a wimp!" and Bucky shoots him a glare. He gets back up and runs towards me and you Rainbow Flick the ball behind you, surprising Bucky yet again as the ball goes over your head and lands in front of you. Bucky was gaining on you and you were running out of options to get out of it.

You decide to gamble it, shooting the ball for the goal standing from where you were, which was at least a good 10 meters (32 feet) from the goal. Somehow during all this, you gained an audience consisting of Sam, Steve, Bruce, Wanda, Nat and Tony who all watched in awe as the ball soared towards the goal. The ball looks as if its going to miss, heading towards the top-right of the goal. By some crazy luck- or your amazing skill, it goes in and the net goes backwards, catching the ball. Wanda, Nat and Sam cheer and Bucky grins. You let out a whoop and turn to face Bucky, who quickly changes his expression to one of fake disappointment. "You said you were going to beat me Bucket, what happened?" You say, taunting him. He rolls his eyes and speaks. "I was off my game today. Next time we match i'll beat you." He says, confidently. "Sure, sure, we'll see about all that Bucky." You say, getting the ball. He grins and wraps his arms around your waist, placing his head on your shoulder. "Good job doll" he says, and you turn over, placing a kiss on his lips. You pull away and run back to the others, yelling "WHOS NEXT!??" and in that moment, he fell in love with you even more, if that was even possible.

[bcolfanfic]

Love your young vets au

I’d love your thoughts on how they settle into their daily routine as a new couple once they’re discharged and home; introducing each other to their families as husbands, finding a place together, Bucky wanting to take Buck on a first official date (when they realise they haven’t actually done that yet), figuring out how to live a life together outside of the routine of the army and adjusting to that 💜 basically the sweet coupley stuff they experience alongside managing poor Bucky’s PTSD

ahhh yes yes! first off bc i feel like everyone that writes post war stuff kinda spins the wheel on where they send the boys- my plopping them in sheridan came from that being where real buck cleven was living by the end of his life. in au land i’ve decided that’s where his sister lives too and some other people he knew before he enlisted.

i think they stop and see bucky's family is wisconsin before they go to wyoming. so they dont technically have their marriage on paper yet, but bucky tells his family they're planning on doing it when they're home and introduces gale as his husband anyways. still formulating all my thoughts on bucky's family- but i think at least his mom just adores gale. she knows bucky can be quite the loose canon and worries about him- so when bucky wrote about him it did her heart good to know he had someone watching out for him. and in person it just multiples because she sees the way gale looks at him, puts his hand on his back, checks in with him etc etc. knows her baby is in good hands <3

gale’s sister wants to beat his ass for the whole ‘we got a marriage license the literal second we got home, we’ll have a wedding eventually buttt’ thing LOL. loves her brother, thinks bucky is perfectly nice (and already knew about him from calls/letters etc) but she’s just a girl. her brother getting married without telling her even if just on paper is a mortal sin /j. his mama feels the same way a little- though with less baby sister theatrics. bucky is a sweet boy. they can’t stay mad that long. in my mind he's no contact with his dad...though it would be interesting to think about him finding out via word of mouth and there being some drama there.

in my head they maybe stay with his sister while they’re looking for a house? this is before bucky’s ptsd gets really bad so there’s no Incidents or anything and she’s happy to have them there. thinks bucky is cute- who wouldn’t!

this is the house they end up in my mind- at least the first one pre: josie. though i think they maybe do some renos and rip out the shower to put a tub in. it’s small- but it’s just very Them. cozy and homey.

they're such sweetie pie doofs on their first real date. bucky realllllyyy leans into the 'first date' thing because he likes that it makes gale get all red. makes him wait inside while he gets his car and drives in a circle around the block to come 'pick him up'...who is bucky really if he is not his theatrics y'know? but they're so sweet getting all dressed up and having a nice dinner together. (bucky ribs him later- later- about how he didn't seem like the type to put out on the first date)

before bucky's shit really hits the fan he truly is just so happy to be home with his gale. gale falls asleep first most nights and he loves just watching him sleep, stroking his face, lightly scratching his hair. and same vs verse with gale normally being the first one awake. watching bucky sleeping in the morning light of their bedroom makes his heart so content. that's his darling boy (,:

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Run These Streets {7} || Street Racer!Bucky

Summary: It's time to finally see who is the better driver but things don’t quite go to plan. Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, illegal racing, smut WC: 2.1k

Bucky's Masterlist || Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six || Part Seven

Hundreds of spectators filled the space around the starting line, screaming their excitement for the race that had become the most anticipated one of the night. 

They all pushed as close to the crudely spray painted lines that indicated where the track began and you looked across the passenger seat to see Bucky idling beside you. His grin was infectious as he revved his thunderous engine that drowned out all the other noise and you blew him a kiss that he caught and pretended to pocket it. 

“Alright, love birds listen up!” Steve shouted as he walked between the cars to take his place at the start line. “I know you two like to get down and dirty but none of that tonight, we are here to race. Buck, you ready?” Bucky answered with another rev that shook his entire car and Steve turned to you. “Ready?”

Adrenaline flooded your body faster than the fuel injectors in the engine that you revved, its response a higher pitched whine compared to the muscle car beside you. 

Time seemed to slow as Steve raised one hand, then the other. The noise of the crowd turned to silence as a calmness washed over you and his hands dropped. There was only you, the car and the asphalt that was eaten by the hungry tires that gripped the surface and threw you forward. 

All the extra power that the Mustang had lifted the front off the ground and stole precious seconds as the slicks burned rubber in your rearview mirror. The small headway wouldn’t help once Bucky’s front tires touched back down and all that horsepower came chasing after you so you had to make the most of the head start and get out onto the streets.

You burst from the underground ramp fast enough to have a second of airtime and it was only the harness that kept you seated before you hit the road and skidded left to head north along the track that had been marked out. Horns tooted and drivers shouted as other Miami racers blocked busy streets until you passed but you paid them no mind as the black beast in your side mirror inched closer.

“Come on, baby, don’t hold back,” you murmured to yourself as you chopped down a gear and pulled the e-brake to drift into the next turn when suddenly Bucky was on your inside. “Now we’re talking.”

You dared a glance across and saw Bucky’s lips moving like he was talking to himself too. It was a reflex, after years of being on the other side of his headset, you could hear his voice talking to you even now. He would definitely be flirting, telling you all the things he had planned for you after the race finished. 

“Concentrate Bucky,” you warned him as if he could hear you, “focus on the road. There’s a tight double turn coming up.”

The street lights blurred as you headed into the turn, braking enough to send Bucky further ahead but it gave you the space you needed to pull to the outside lane and swing in tight and close to the turn. A whoop of excitement tore from you as you undercut Bucky before powersliding straight out of the following turn but the shout was silenced as a deep pulsing sound grew above you. 

You shifted forward and peered up to see a helicopter hovering above the street before your phone rang with Bucky’s ringtone. “Is it police?” you asked after answering the call and putting it on speaker as he pulled up alongside you.

“Looks like it. We’re gonna have to lose it.”

“Fuck,” you growled, knowing that there was only one way to do that. “That means splitting up.”

“I don’t like it anymore than you do but you take the next alley up ahead and I’ll head to South Beach,” he stated calmly, going through the motions that were well versed after years of evading the police in car chases. But this wasn’t a car chase. “There’s a tunnel at the port that it won’t be able to follow in. I’ll ditch the car and take the emergency exit. The underground isn’t far from there and I’ll meet you at the Northside train station.”

Another wave of adrenaline washed through you and you committed his instructions to memory, remembering the layout of the streets you had studied since Bucky started racing on them. “Till the end of the line?”

“End of the line, doll,” Bucky promised. 

There was no goodbye, no I love you. You had your instructions and you would follow them trusting Bucky wholeheartedly as you slammed on the brakes and turned down a tight alleyway that the helicopter had no chance of following. The spotlight disappeared from you and you sent a prayer to anyone that would listen that Bucky stayed safe as you slowed down to the speed limit and merged with the traffic to avoid detection. 

Two cop cars passed by and you held your breath until they were gone but still your eyes were glued to your rearview mirror as you feared they would suddenly appear behind you. Whenever you heard sirens your heart threatened to stop entirely and you pulled into the first carpark you came across, locking the car and heading to the nearest train station on foot.

“Steve, have you heard from Bucky?” you asked as you sat at the Northside train station after trying Bucky’s phone for an hour.

“No, what the hell happened? The scanners picked up a citywide ABP on the cars.” 

You quickly recapped the story and explained Bucky’s plan before Sam took over the phone. “The trains won’t run through Northside until morning.”

Dread began to settle in your bones as you hung up the phone and saw it was a little past 1am and you chewed your bottom lip worrying about Bucky. You called Bucky’s phone again and clenched yours tightly as it rang and rang.  “Come on babe, answer your phone. I swear to god I will-” the words were lost as Bucky skidded through the entrance of the empty train station. 

His hair was a mess and his shirt was drenched in sweat like he had run all the way from South Beach but he was in one piece and even managed a charming smile as he bent over his knees to regain his breath. “Sorry…I kept…you waiting…doll.”

You jumped from the bench you had been sitting on when you weren’t pacing the platform and raced over to him, throwing your arms around him. “You fucking scared me! Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

Bucky grimaced as he pulled the device from his jeans and you saw the shattered screen. “Fell out of my damn pocket.”

You relaxed in his arms for a moment to reassure yourself he was fine before pulling away to call Steve and organise a ride back to the motel. It would a while before they got there so you sat beside Bucky on the bench and rested your heads against each other and laced your fingers together. 

“Guess we’ll never know who’s faster,” he murmured quietly with a chuckle.

“I think I am okay with that,” you replied honestly, “what I am not okay with is us splitting up again. Not knowing where you were nearly killed me.”

Bucky let go of your hand to wrap his arm around you and draw you closer so he could capture your lips in a searing kiss. “I’ll take this as a sign from the universe that we are meant to be on the same team.”

A horn tooted outside and Bucky rose with a groan before massaging his thighs that were cramping from the unplanned half-marathon. The moment you made it inside the motel room you went straight to the bathroom and started running a steaming hot bath for Bucky to soak in and the sound he made as he lowered himself into the water had you biting your lip. 

“There’s room for one more,” Bucky invited with a wink as he spread his legs for you to join him.

“Aren’t you sore?” you asked as his cocked stirred to attention and he laid back further.

“I’ll never be too sore for you.” His hands reached for you and tugged your shirt off when you came closer. Next your jeans disappeared and then your underwear before he pulled you across his lap. “I need to feel you, doll.”

You had the same urge, like how you hadn’t been able to let go of him in Steve’s car. There had to be some part of your touching at all times. Right now you needed more and so did he. Unable to wait any longer, Bucky shifted his hips beneath you and lined himself up with your entrance before pulling you down on him.

Your lips parted with a delighted gasp as he stretched your walls and filled you completely. Water sloshed over the lip of the bath in waves as he guided your hips up and down his length and he tipped his head back in ecstasy after watching the way your pussy took him perfectly.

“I was scared,” Bucky admitted as gently rode him. “I thought I was going to prison for good.”

Your throat constricted at the thought of being separated from him and he swallowed at the look on your face before he cupped your cheeks and pulled you closer. His kiss was all consuming as his tongue danced with yours and his moans filled the air before he rested his forehead to yours.

“I can’t risk this, us,” he whispered as he teased a hand down your navel until he found your clit. “I won’t. I’m done. No more street races, doll, I’m going legit.”

“What do you mean?” you asked as you struggled to think clearly with what he was doing to your body.

“I mean proper, legal racing. No police.” He stopped touching you so you could clear your head. “We’re flush for cash after this week but it’s not worth a thing if we get caught. I could still race, with my best girl by my side where she’s meant to be.”

You smiled at the thought. It would still being doing what you both loved but safer in every way and you quickly nodded. “But Bucky is too well known as a street racer, you wouldn’t be able to go by it anymore.”

Bucky shrugged though there was a small frown above his brows. “I’ll have to get used to being called James again. It’ll be just like high school again.”

“Almost like high school.” You rolled your hips to remind him of what you were in the middle of doing. “There was none of this back then.”

Bucky grinned and pulled you down his shaft. “Trust me, we did all of this in my dreams. And more.”

You moaned at the depth he hit as he rutted up into you and your walls clenched around his cock. “More? Fuck, show me.”

Bucky growled at your neediness and flipped you over onto your knees. You braced your hands against the end of the bath as he towered behind you and thrust himself back between your folds.

“I fantasised taking you in every position imaginable, pictured it was you I was fucking when I was jerking off.” His words spread fire across your skin and the heat centred on your core that fluttered wildly with each thrust.

The throb of your clit had you reaching down your own body and you cried out at the added sensation while Bucky fucked you. “I thought about you too. Imagined it was your fingers inside me when I touched myself or your tongue. It was your name on my lips when I came.”

The purely masculine sound he made behind you sparked your orgasm and it ripped through you with wave after wave of release. Somewhere in the abyss Bucky had lost himself and when your mind came back to your body you felt the warmth of his cum filling you.

You both sank back into the tepid bath water breathless and trembling. You lay there in a peaceful silence while the room slowly lightened with the approaching daybreak until your legs felt coordinated enough to carry you to the bed where you collapsed in Bucky’s arms.

[fullofgutsndopamine]

big brother!hasanhalloween odds and ends

not a cohesive fic, mostly ramblings on traditions they do and whatnot

fitps verse (masterlist here)

hasan, who saves up money a few weeks before halloween, slowly pocketing it, taking careful note of which houses have different decorations

(on a folded notebook piece of paper, shoved deep in his pocket, because phones are a luxury he can’t afford,) you’ll see: 42 Elmer Drive pumpkinhead blow up or 26 Fulmer Lane has those ridiculously large skeleton men in front yard. best view is coming in from Anderson’s house saves up money from odd jobs (“The Samson’s have needed their lawn mowed for literal months might as well make a few bucks off of it”)

pockets the money away to fill his truck up, the one you hear before you see it, needs a screwdriver and a prayer to work most days-and drives her around town until her eyes get heavy and she sleeps against the window, hasan driving carefully to avoid potholes and he slowly putters back to the house.

and his sister loves it-she ohs and awes over the elaborate decoration, giggles and gasps at the skeletons and pulls on hasan's shirt like he didn’t take note of this for her, to make him see (“I see, sunshine, i see.”)

but still: his sister is disappointed getting home, their dark little house with the porch light that’s been out for months, the front step stair begging to give out, one bad step away from caving in: it’s hard not to compare.

so hasan picks up more odd jobs. she sleeps soundly in his bed as he works downstairs, fixing up the old bookcase to resell, sews old shirts with holes in it until his fingers are bloody from poking them, will take them to resell tomorrow, even if he only gets a few bucks (at best) for them. stays late in town and sets up and takes down chairs and tables for the local church group-

he waits patiently, collects the money and shoves it deep into his pocket and picks her up one day in his truck, the back tailgate filled with dollar store bags, the plastic spider web netting for the dying bushes out the front of their house, plastic pumpkins for inside the windows, plastic skeleton hands to shove into the rough of the earth, uses those plastic kids vampire teeth to decorate the flower box.

and what he can’t afford-sets down construction paper in front of her, markers he has to dip into water to make work again, and has her draw: scary pumpkin faces to keep monsters away, ghosts with large smiles, witches on brooks flying into the moon-proudly displays them on the front door, and in the windows, puts her on his shoulders and walks outside, her tiny fists filled with little chunks of his hair gently, as he oohs and awes over the pictures, the little paper ghosts on sticks that he sticks into the earth that lead up to the driveway, one good rain will take ‘em out (he watches the weather religiously after this, even though it’s a few days from halloween, pads outside at 2am because the rain chance went up and he’ll be damned if her halloween is ruined)

and costumes. makes do with what they have; the one year she was a hockey player (like her big brother) in his too big jersey that ate her up, or when she was a ghost in the old bedsheets he had been meaning to throw away but couldn’t make himself part with (“sunshine,” he says as he adjusted it over her, two crooked eye holes for her, “the rips make you look more badass, i promise.”) his old white button up and tie from his brief private school stay (before he got kicked out for talking with his fists) when she wants to be a teacher.

stays up late with her, whatever he recorded on VHS plays in the background; one year it’s a charlie brown halloween, the next year it’s Halloweentown-the two make little goodie bags, candy is expensive, everyone gets a single piece of candy, a little picture she drew gets tucked in, a sticker-it’s not much, it’s for her classmates, but whatever he can do to make someone’s halloween magical, especially if they’re stretching a penny as hard as he is-he’ll do.

loads her up October 1st, as soon as her eyes pop open, brings in halloween the only way he knows: the library.

puts her in the little red wagon, the wheels replaced so much now it’s a miracle it works, and surrounds her in halloween books; to read to her for bedtime, to tell her when he makes the little campfires in their backyard, (his face only illuminated by the ghoulish color of the fire, stands by the fire and holds the book up, much like a teacher, and reads in an animated voice to her, her eyes wide and mouth open the entire time, loves his stories-) to have her get extra practice in, all the animated kids movies on VHS he can find (luckily, vhs is not a hot commodity and he swears he feels as if he’s physically picking off cobwebs on the old battered paper cases) and loads her up again, the cart so full on the way back home that she sits on his shoulders.

homemade halloween candy to pass out for trick or treaters, after they get home and light all the candles up in the house (“for the spooky effect!” he’d insist, and not to save money on the electricity bill that’s slowly killing him) she stayed up late the night before, kneeling on a little stool in the kitchen as she slowly, carefully, dipped the pretzels into the melted chocolate that he dyed purple and orange, listens with wide eyes and mouth open as he talks about their mama, and what they use to do growing up, his favorite traditions he wants to pass down to her

she’s stubborn, just as much as he is, stays up as late as she can curled into his side as they marathon her favorite vhs’ tapes. would wait until he hears her snoring to gently walk up the steps, her arms wrapped around his neck, to get her ready for bed.

[kylesvariouslistsandstuff]

Here we are... Best Animated Feature noms...

My predictions were 4-out-of-5...

THE BOY AND THE HERON, NIMONA, ROBOT DREAMS, and SPIDER-MAN: ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE all got in...

The one I got wrong was TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES: MUTANT MAYHEM, which to be fair, I did say in my previous post that that one was the wild card out of my predictions. Despite the high praise and tons of nominations TMNT:MM got elsewhere, in addition to a single win, I guess those who were nominating it for the Oscar just didn't think the oozy gross-out turtle action-superhero movie cut it.

Instead, we have ELEMENTAL, so Disney Pictures gets at least one slot this year. The last time they were shut out entirely was for the features of 2011, the year they released the critical dud CARS 2 and the completely dumped WINNIE THE POOH. I was pretty sure that this year, they also wouldn't make it. ELEMENTAL's critical reception was fine at best, nowhere near the acclaim MUTANT MAYHEM got. WISH was both a critical and commercial dud, so that had no chance, only ELEMENTAL did... Maybe the Academy just didn't feel like pulling a 2018 and nominating two superhero action animated movies. Maybe they decided to have just one IP-based movie in the race, and opted for an original story. (As NIMONA and ROBOT DREAMS are based on pre-existing source material, BOY AND THE HERON references a novel that plays a part in its story.) Maybe something else about it wasn't all to their liking. Maybe Disney is just that powerful that they got themselves a slot.

I still think this is a strong line-up, and again, it speaks to how robust this year was for features both mainstream and independent.

And I will admit, even though I wasn't in love with the movie, ELEMENTAL getting into the race is very nice, I feel. Director Peter Sohn's first Pixar feature, THE GOOD DINOSAUR, was both a box office flop and didn't get a nominated for the Oscar (it shared the year with sister Pixar movie INSIDE OUT). It was also a film that he inherited after its original director got removed from it. ELEMENTAL was his personal project from the ground-up, and after a rough opening and all the press jeering that it was going to be this big flopperooni, it had excellent legs at the box office... and now... It has a Best Animated Feature nom. Talk about staying power! Maybe Pete Docter should think twice about that statement he made back in the summer, about trying to go back to Pixar's "roots" in trying to figure out what audiences supposedly want from this studio.

Anyways, Pixar usually gets a nom every year. For 2022's animated features, TURNING RED was in the running. 2021, LUCA. 2020, SOUL, which won for that year. Last time Pixar didn't get a nom at all was for 2016, their sole feature that year was FINDING DORY. Got good reviews and made beaucoup bucks, but it shared a year with Disney Animation's ZOOTOPIA and MOANA, two heavy hitters which ended up getting the noms. So, outside of FINDING DORY, MONSTERS UNIVERSITY, and CARS 2, Pixar usually never misses a nom whenever they release a single movie in a calendar year.

Most of Paramount's Oscar noms in animation were for DreamWorks movies they released circa 2006-2012, which are all now Universal movies since Comcast owns all of DreamWorks Animation outright. Funnily enough, the inaugural Best Animated Feature nominations included Paramount's JIMMY NEUTRON: BOY GENIUS, which was up against eventual winner SHREK, and MONSTERS, INC. Paramount then began distributing DreamWorks movies in 2006, and scored nominations with KUNG FU PANDA, HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON, KUNG FU PANDA 2, and PUSS IN BOOTS. For a non-DreamWorks nom, there was RANGO, which won for Best Animated Feature of 2011... Ever since then? Only one movie, ANOMALISA. The films they released from 2015 to now just never made it: SHERLOCK GNOMES, WONDER PARK, SPONGEBOB 3, RUMBLE, etc. MUTANT MAYHEM really had a good shot at getting in... Maybe TRANSFORMERS: ONE surprises later this year, I don't know. Paramount's animation history post-80s is so weird...

Anyways, congrats to everyone. I'm personally rooting for either BOY AND THE HERON, or NIMONA.

[tharros-auris-black-asimi]

Warmth

Pairing: Alpha Beefy Bucky x Female Mutant Reader

Summary: Being paired off with Bucky Barnes on a mission was hard enough. Hell, the two of you being a part of Hydra a long time ago was already hard enough. But when the two of you are forced to seek shelter in an Avengers safehouse, it gets even worse.

Because there's only one freaking bed.

Will you survive the night with the grumpy Alpha by your side? Or will you rip your hair out?

Who knows. The nights are unpredictable.

What you do know is, is that Bucky Barnes is too fucking hot for his damn good.

Maybe you just might pull your hair out.

Warnings: Heavy A/B/O dynamics. Mentions of past torture from Hydra for both Bucky and the Reader. This Bucky is sort of a mix between CW!Bucky, (hence the beefy!Bucky), but also TFATWS!Bucky bc I love grumpy old man, sassy Bucky. Some angst/hurt/comfort, because I'm a hoe for angst. No heats/ruts in this lil fic, just good ole rough smut. Some biting and some mild blood too. This sex would be considered unprotected irl, but in the a/b/o verse, I don't think you'd need protection??? Who knows. Italics are for when Bucky and the Reader are talking in Russian. The Reader also has a nightmare, which ties back in with the whole mention of past torture from Hydra. If I missed any other warnings in this, let me know and I'll make sure to add them!

Additional Notes: This was written for @agentofbarnes's writing challenge! Congrats on 7k, Zee! I'm sorry this took so long. I started writing this in July, and let it marinate for far too long. But it's here now. I hope you enjoy!

All writing mistakes in this fic are mine, as usual.

Word Count: 4,602

Hell.

This was absolute pure fucking hell.

As you and the former Winter Soldier, James "Bucky" Barnes himself stared at the front door of one of the safehouses for the Avengers in case of emergencies, you couldn't help make eye contact with him.

Great. This was just great.

No one, not even Clint had told you that it would be snowing in freaking January in rural Ohio, of all places.

Then again, you had faintly remembered doing gymnastics before you had been taken by Hydra with some arrogant Alpha guy named Lance. He had been a real pain in your ass and you remembered you had made him cry once. After you had escaped from Hydra, you had bumped into him again. Funnily enough, he was still just as scared of you as he was all those years ago. Which, you know, was nice.

But what was not nice was the Alpha that was currently looking back at you. James Buchanan Barnes, Bucky, Buck, White Panther, Jesus, Bionic Staring Machine- (the last three nicknames, all given to him by the Alpha Sam Wilson himself), scowled at you. His blue eyes even narrowed at you.

You wouldn't call what you and Bucky had a friendship. You two weren't even enemies. Heck, colleagues? Teammates? That was just putting it lightly, the relationship you had with the Alpha. Even when you had been captured and brainwashed into serving Hydra, the two of you had never crossed paths. It had been only after Hydra had fallen, did the two of you actually meet in person. Other than that, nothing. Nada. Nope. No with a capital N.O.

"Come on, let's go." Bucky all but grumbled. Realizing he didn't have the key to get inside, he looked at you. Like you had the key or something.

"James, I don't have the key." Bucky groaned. "Do you have a bobby pin, Omega? Something?" He asked in Russian. You plucked a bobby pin from your hair. A stray piece of hair fell. Putting the flat side in, you managed to unlock the door. You turned to look at him, giving him a toothy grin.

"Learned that from Pit Pocketing for Dummies, 101."

Bucky rolled his eyes at that. You just sniggered as you opened the door, greeted by cool air smacking against your face.

It made you shiver.

Because, unlike Bucky, you did not have any of that good ole supersoldier serum in your veins.

You were a mutant that could control water. Sometimes, you wished that you had the ability to control fire, because then, at least you could be warm in such dire situations such as these.

Taking your shoes off and putting them at the door, you surveyed the place.

It was a small house. Like a cozy little cottage. Probably only had at least two rooms at the max. It certainly gave off that vibe. There was a fireplace in the living room. A fully furnished kitchen, complete with a little wooden table with benches instead of individual chairs near the window.

Your grip on your bag of clothes became tighter as you realized that you needed to take a shower. Your stomach grumbled, alerting Bucky that you were hungry. Your comms had died. The two of you could contact no one until you charged them.

Which meant for at least tonight, or whenever the snowstorm outside stopped, you only had Bucky Barnes for company.

Well. That certainly would be pleasant.

"Go and shower first. I'll make dinner."

***

After your shower, you walked back into the kitchen, your sweet smell that reminded Bucky of deserts that his Ma used to make for him and his younger sisters back in Brooklyn drifted towards his nose. Thanks to the serum, he had already smelled it a mile away.

Cinamon rolls. Apple turnovers. Apple pies. Pumpkin pies. Bucky felt his Alpha rumble at the smell. Even Winter stirred at the familiar scent he loved so much.

When Bucky had gotten the trigger words wiped away from him due to Princess Shuri's genius, the Winter Soldier hadn't gone away from him. Rather, Winter had become a part of Bucky. Winter had been what Bucky became to survive Hydra. Winter was Bucky, only darker. More possessive. The deepest, darkest thing of him that the Wakandan Elders had helped him find again and reconcile with.

It was during times like this, making dinner in the kitchen that reminded him so much of his time back in Wakanda. Taking care of his farm and his pet goats, (that he sadly couldn't bring back with him when coming back to America), that he missed the most. It was domestic, in a way. He could almost feed into the fantasy, the thought that you were his Omega, his Bondmate, and that he was just making dinner for you.

From an outsider's perspective, it might've looked like Bucky didn't like you. That he just tolerated you. Treated you like how he treated everyone else in his life.

But it was the contrary.

He liked you.

He liked you very, very much. Other than Steve, Natalia, and heck, even the winged pigeon- you were one of the only people to truly understand him. You were probably even on the same playing field as Natalia, because you knew what it was like to be controlled by the Russian government. You held him at an arm's length at most, and you never treated him like he was some fragile, broken man. When you treated his wounds, you never fretted like other Omega's. Nor did you dottle. Ask him if he was okay every five seconds. It was disappointing in a way.

Bucky turned his head, just as you hopped yourself onto the counter, away from the conduction stove.

The smell of butter pasta was filling your nose. You watched with rapt attention as Bucky shut off the stove, grabbed the freshly grated cheese, and dumping it in. To hell with calories. Stirring quickly for a few seconds, he stopped. Turning his head to look at you, he gave you a low smirk. His scent of something sandalwood, oceany filling your nose. It made your Omega preen.

"Get some bowls, will ya doll? And forks too." Hopping off of the countertops, he heard a chirping, yet sarcastic reply.

"Yes, Sarge."

He felt his pants tighten at the thought. Hearing you grab all of the stuff, he swallowed.

Not that he would tell you that.

No.

Never.

***

"Oh, you've gotta be fucking with me."

So, as luck would have it. There weren't two bedrooms.

Nope.

There was only one.

Not only that, the entire room was fully furnished. A closet was on the left side of the door, against the wall. There was a window and just a bit to right, in the middle of the room, was a queen-sized bed, all made up with all the fluffiest blankets, comforters, and pillows imaginable.

"And you're sure this is the only room?" Bucky said. "Yeah! It's the only one, James. It's either this or the couch. And I'm not sleeping on the couch. It's too cold. Whoever built this safehouse didn't have any heaters built in either. Fuck, is this how I die? Freezing to death?" Your voice was getting higher with concern.

Bucky just rolled his eyes.

"No, doll. You're not to freeze to death. We're going to share that bed."

You turned your head towards him like he had just grown a second head. "What?" you exclaimed. "No. No, no, no. Noooo. James. Nu-uh. Uh-uh. I'm not going to sleep with you in my tank top and underwear. the least you've seen me in is a pair of short shorts and a tank top."

Bucky inhaled deeply through his nostrils.

Get yourself together Barnes.

Don't throw her over your shoulder.

Don't do that.

"You're a water mutant, doll. You're not a fire mutant. You aren't a supersoldier either. I'm not letting you freeze to death. I'll keep you warm all night. Better yet, don't sleep in your tank top and shorts. Our body heats will do just fine." Bucky snapped at you. You were still trying to collect your thoughts.

And then the realization, the reality of your situation, smacked you right across the face.

Bucky was asking you to sleep naked.

With him.

In the same frigging bed together.

Oh you were going to die. You were going to die and go up to wherever other spirits went to after they died. You weren't really all that religious nor spiritual.

But tonight though?

Yeah. Maybe you believed. Maybe a little.

Just the slightest bit.

"Okay, okay," you grumbled, "I won't wear any clothes. Better yet, I'll even give you a show. That'll even out the odds, James."

***

Warm.

He was just oh so warm.

Your back was flush against his front, feeling skin-on-skin.

You had stopped shivering about an hour ago.

Bucky had scouted the safehouse, to see if there was actually a heater, in case you had missed anything.

Nope.

There were no heaters in the safehouse.

Absolutely none.

Not to mention, all of the blankets weren't as thick. From what Bucky had observed a few hours ago after dinner while you had tackled the task of doing the dishes, was that the safe house had been abandoned for a while. It was either that, or nobody had stocked this place up for a while.

He had chosen the latter.

With his strong arms wrapped around your stomach, he pulled you close. You were asleep. Dead asleep. Bucky felt and saw your body rise up and down as you slept, your breaths all evened out.

It was nice, almost. Outside was quiet. Bucky could hear other than your breathing only the soft wind blowing due to the snowstorm outside.

For a moment, Bucky was lulled into a sense of calm. His mind was clear. His Alpha and Winter were quiet. He didn't have to fret. Or look over his shoulder. Didn't have to second guess himself or his actions anymore.

And then he heard it.

Soft whimpers coming from the sweet-smelling Omega that he was currently holding in his arms. You had begun to squirm, arms thrashing out. Your legs smacked on his knees, trying to desperately claw yourself free from his tightening grip on you.

"... I'll be good... just don't chuck me in the freezer again... please sir... I hate it there... please don't chuck me in the freezer, please..." you were sobbing in your sleep. You started to blubber, continually trying to claw yourself out of Bucky's grip. The metal plates of his Vibrainum arm shifted as his metal fingers tightened around your stomach. Bucky knew not to apply too much pressure on you- you weren't like him, Steve, or Natalia. You didn't have the serum in you.

"Doll? Hey, doll. C'mon, wake up. It's not real." Bucky tried shaking you awake to no avail. You had continued to thrash in his arms.

Sniffling loudly, your Omega was thrashing in her cage, in the confines of your mind. She was whispering, yelling at you to wake up.

"Omega. Wake up."

Bucky didn't mean to use his Tone. But you were being so hysterical, shaking, and crying to the point where it was beginning to worry him. Your sweet scent had begun to twist and turn into something more burnt. Singed. It made his eyes water.

You stopped thrashing in his grip. Your body froze up at his use of his Tone. Your Omega stopped throwing her temper tantrum too. She had paused for a second.

Her Alpha had given her a Command.

So why wouldn't she listen?

Peering from her cage in the confines of your mind, she sighed happily.

Alpha. Alpha cares about us. She whispered in your ear.

Slowly returning to consciousness, you struggled to know where you were for a second.

You had been having a nightmare.

A full-fledged nightmare.

You hadn't had one of those in a while.

"... Where am I?" Your voice was gentle but confused.

You still didn't know if you were still in that godforsaken Hydra facility or not. But you just wanted to make sure.

"Here, doll. You're here with me. We're in Ohio, remember? Sharin' one bed together cause I don't wanna be a bad Alpha and letcha freeze to death." Bucky said.

You couldn't help it. You snuggled into him, hearing a deep rumble coming from his chest. Bucky's Alpha was pleased. Very pleased. Winter was quiet. Which surprised Bucky. The little shit was usually more vocal about his own needs these days.

For a moment, it felt okay. You felt that weird fog lifting. Your brain slowly settling in your current surroundings. Your sweet, filling scent that had twisted and burnt into something smoky and burnt was slowly wearing off.

You were still a little shaken up. You could still hear your screaming echoing in your head. Your voice trembling, and because you didn't know if you were still stuck in the facility, "How long?"

"Not long."

Bucky watched as you lifted your head up, blinking once. And then twice. And then again, just to be sure.

Your body felt like it still wasn't physically here. Your body still felt like it was back in the cryo chamber, stuck in that damn freezer. Bucky watched your chest heave up and down. Taking in deep breaths.

Then you flopped right back into your previous spot, your back facing his front. Bucky pulled you back with his metal arm. You heard the metal plates in his arm readjust and move. You couldn't help it. Your vagina throbbed at the sound. Chewing on your bottom lip, you wiggled a little bit.

A deep rumble had come from Bucky.

The metal-armed Alpha had pushed a little bit of his weight down on you. Making you feel all warm and safe with the sandalwood and salty scent wrapped all around you like a cocoon.

You wiggled up against him again, trying to get comfortable. Your eyes closed.

A deep groan came from Bucky.

Was he asleep?

You stopped moving.

Another groan came from Bucky. His arms were wrapped around you. Not tightly, but still. It was kinda nice in a way. You could feel every muscle on his broad chest against your back.

Maybe Bucky had the right idea to sleep naked after all.

You shifted again. Trying to wiggle out a little out of the embrace.

A deep growl rumbled from Bucky. His grip on you tightened. You squirmed against him again.

Voice gravelly, "Stop moving."

Your eyes flew open.

He was awake.

And you had been-

Letting out a hiss, Bucky pushed his entire weight onto you and grinded his half-hard cock against your ass cheeks. Not even caring about if his entire weight would crush you, because of the serum.

He saw red.

Pure absolute red.

You choked. A needy little whimper filled the room.

Bucky's metal hand traveled down, all the way down to your pussy, his knee pushing your legs apart. You were panting in anticipation, eyes wide as saucers. His metal fingers were shoved deep, all the way to the knuckles. A pitiful whine left your lips. A needy whine too.

When he entered you, a choked sob escaped from your lips. Your hands curled into fists, eyes rolling into the back of your head as the formerly brainwashed assassin let out a growl.

"So sick and tired of you teasin' me," was what the former Winter Soldier growled under his breath, hissing at the way your cunt wrapped around him. Slick was smeared around your inner thighs, and you couldn't help but sob at the feeling of being so full.

Bucky was groaning above you, his hands nearing shaking.

Never had he ever thought he could ever get to do this again.

Because Bucky very much still liked sex. He very much so was a sexual creature. Being inside you gave him flashes of his life before Hydra. It made him remember a much skinner, smaller Steve. A much duller, war-stricken Brooklyn. It made him remember the giggles of Omegas. It made him remember his Ma's cooking growing up. Rebecca's giggles in his ears. Just like the old times.

Not for the first time in his life, he didn't feel trapped.

He felt free.

This was freeing to him.

And when he began to move, position his hips against your back, smacking roughly. Good enough to leave marks in the morning.

Wet, squishing noise echoed noisily every time he bottomed out of you. Every thrust in, filling you, completing you. It sent you gasping and crying out into the pillows. His hands- both metal and flesh, reached under you, to grab ahold of your breasts in a tight grip that only made you sob for more.

"More, more, more, please James, please-"

Something snapped in him.

Broke.

Bucky had never felt this feral before. The last time he felt this feral had been the hours when he first presented.

You whined loudly when he slid out of you, crying out at the empty feeling. Your Omega screeched in alarm.

Why had her Alpha stopped? Why?

Grabbing ahold of your legs, he lifted them up. Before he thrusted back in again, filling you up to the brim. It was deeper than last time, and his cock hit that spongy part. Hit your g-spot so good that you screamed into the pillows.

You were coming. You were coming so fast, that deep coil inside you snapping like a bomb wire being cut that you never got the chance to feel your programs. Your body jolted, spasmed. Your legs lifted off of the bed or at least tried to. Bucky's body weight was still keeping you down. So all you could do was grip the bedsheets when Bucky started to pound into you again, taking all he could.

You couldn't help yourself. You glanced back, just to take a glimpse of him.

James Buchanan Barnes looked downright feral and your pussy clenched around him deeper at the sight. as if she knew.

Every thrust made him go deeper, hitting your cervix every time. It made your second orgasm piggyback off of your first one, sobbing into the pillows. It was only when your second orgasm came, your walls clenching down onto his cock that Bucky's teeth sank into your shoulder, shattering, breaking the skin there. The taste of copper filling his mouth. Bucky let out a grunt as he came. Filling you up with so much of his jizz that he was sure it would drip from you tomorrow morning.

Bucky lifted his mouth from your shoulder.

Pants filled the room as the two of you tried to regain yourselves.

Bucky shifted, moving off of you and lying beside you. His eyes weren't black anymore. They were back to their normal blue. They reminded you of the sea in the morning on a peaceful day.

Your hand came to touch his face. Your hand faltered, trembled though. Because you were nervous.

"It's okay," his voice was deeper, huskier. It made your pussy throb. "You can touch me. It's okay."

Your hands came to touch, cup his jaw. You leaned in, pressing your lips against his. His lips were soft. Your lips moved together, his tongue slipping into your mouth. The kiss became deeper. You hadn't expected it to become deeper. You had been just going for an innocent kiss.

You swore.

Like- you really did.

You didn't expect to be fully making out with James Buchanan Barnes.

But it wasn't like you were complaining though.

Because you weren't.

Bucky was the first one to pull away. He could see how red, bruised your lips looked. He didn't recoil from your gentle touch on his face. He welcomed it. He truly did. Hands holding your hips, he looked at you.

His lips traveled down to your mating gland. He touched over it with his tongue, giving it a broad lick. His teeth sank in, piercing the skin.

Your ears popped. You cried out. His grip on your hips didn't falter.

"Yes, yes, yes," you gasped. Bucky lifted his mouth up from your gland, before sinking his teeth back in and biting again. Making his mark all that deeper.

It was only when he lifted his mouth from your gland, wiped your blood off of him with the blanket did you come at him, sinking your teeth into his gland. It made him grunt, even groan. His flesh hand came to your head, pushing your head down, making you sink your teeth even deeper into his gland.

"Yesss," hissed Bucky, his flesh hand sinking into your hair, gripping it. "Deeper, doll. Go deeper."

Winter and his Alpha completely agreed.

Theirs.

You were theirs.

After what seemed an eternity, you lifted your head up. Wiping your mouth on the blanket, you spoke.

"I missed you. What did you do to get us paired on this mission? I thought I was going with Sam," you said to your Alpha. A smirk stretched over Bucky's lips. "Ah," your Alpha said, still smirking, "I might've put something in his drink to make him vomit his guts out. He got sick."

A noise came from you.

"You gave him food poisoning? James!" You scolded him. Bucky leaned back against the headboard. "Don't worry doll, it'll wear off when we come back to the Compound. Bird Brain won't even know what hit him."

You shook your head in disbelief.

"You're unbelievable, Sasha. Did you teach Natalia that trick, too? Hmm? She and all of your Widow students?"

Bucky was still grinning ear to ear at you when he responded back.

"Well little bird, someone had to teach them. After all, I was their teacher. They all called me Yasha. Speaking of my Widow students..." he trailed off in Russian. You looked at him.

"You've contacted one of the KBG? About that leaked Russian tape with the orange man that is, unfortunately, our President?" He asked you. You nodded. "Yeah, Sasha. Everything's going as planned. Although, I think assassinating the orange man would've been a much better option. We would've gone in there and made it a done deal by now! Fuckin' Steve and his righteous self." You grumbled unhappily.

"Hmm. It would've been great as a date night. Don't you think, doll?" Bucky drawled. You gave a serious nod.

"Although... seeing him freak out on Twitter is much, much better. The tea is better when it's hot." You grinned. Bucky just let out a sigh.

"I'm restricting your phone privileges. And your TV privileges. You need to stop watching those drama channels, Mega."

A noise of deep discomfort came from you.

"Sasha!" you whined, "then what will I do while you're gone on missions?"

"Wait for me to come back?" Bucky suggested. You just sighed. Even shook your head in fondest. You happily snuggled up to your Alpha, your nose rubbing up against your Mate's gland. "I always wait for you to come back, Sasha. I wait and I worry. I love you, James."

A deep rumble came from your Mate.

"I love you too, Little Omega."

Your head peeked up.

"So, can we tell the rest of the team when I leak the tape?" You asked, your eyes glimmering with mischief.

Bucky burst out laughing.

"Yes, yes, yes. We can tell them once you've wreaked havoc, Omega."

"Good." You were nodding seriously, in complete agreement. "It'll be fun. And... also, I forgot to tell you."

The joyful expression on Bucky's face was suddenly replaced with one of worry.

"What? What is it?" He asked gently. "When you were gone for your last mission two months ago... I... I came off of my suppressants. I'm ready, James. I want a family with you."

Shock flickered over Bucky's face. And then he was shoving you back into the bed with a shriek coming from you.

"When's your pre-heat?" He demanded.

You felt it. A cramp. It made you whimper.

"N-Now, James. Now," you stammered. Your Alpha pulled your legs apart roughly before he thrusted back into you, making you gasp.

"Say it," he hissed. "Say you want it. Say you want my knot. Say you want my pups."

"I want it, James." Your voice was a low whisper, even staggering a little bit. "I want your knot. I want your pups. Please. Please, Sasha."

His hands, both metal, and flesh gripped your shoulder tight as that vein of his neck nearly popped. His eyes were black with want. Soon, his Rut would be upon him and he'd breed you. Put his pup in you. You'd carry his pup. He'd have the pack that Winter and his Alpha desperately wanted after all these years.

A whine came from you when he pulled out, only to let out a scream when he thrusted back in. Hitting that part of you that made your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your mouth fell open, but no words came out.

His pace was brutal, not even letting you hold onto him. Your hands were left to grip the bedsheets again. You gripped them so tight that your knuckles turned white and you thought that they were going to pop.

Bucky continued to push, continued to shove his ejaculate deeper and deeper inside of you. A mixture of your slick and his ejaculate smeared all over your thighs and trickled down your legs, and you just didn't know what was happening. Your hindbrain was telling you that this was what was needed. That your designation wanted, nay, demanded this. After all the shit you had gone through, your Omega had found her Alpha and now, now she was determined to have a family. Have the pack she desperately desired.

"Mine."

A harsh thrust made you sob.

"You're mine now. I waited for you for so long. Wanted you for so long. You're mine now. Got my Mark. Got my clothes in your nest. Gonna give you my name. Gonna give you my pups. You're mine. All mine. Say you're mine. Say it!"

You came screaming. Your orgasm making you see white. Bucky continued slamming into you, the wet, squishing noises coming from your pussy becoming louder and louder the more he pushed in. Your teeth sank into his flesh shoulder, shattering and piercing the skin there. You tasted copper in your mouth.

Bucky came with a shout. He shoved you back completely, making you shriek. And then he was leaning in again, sinking his teeth into your gland. Making another deep mark. It made you fall limp into the bed as his knot swelled, locking the two of you in place.

He lifted his head.

Being inside you... knotted inside of you... it was bliss. It was just as good as cockwarming. His cock all nestled deep inside of you whenever you two would sneak off to sleep together.

"Bite me again. Give me your mark, Omega." he panted. Slowly, your head went up, you slowly sat up, before taking in a deep breath and sinking your teeth back into his gland.

Home.

You had brought Bucky home. He held you tight, whispering in your ear how much he loved you and how much of a good Omega you were.

"I love you Omega." His voice was rough.

Lifting your head from his gland. Blood still trickling down the corners of your mouth. You offered him a smile. A genuine one. One that made his stomach all fluttery.

"I love you too, Alpha."

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

This ain't no Fairytale

Part 2

Authors note;

Hi, gosh it's been a while but I've been writing again and it's been lovely. ❤️

This is part two of This ain't no Fairytale. I was listening to The Scientist by Coldplay while writing this and these two verses stood out to me.

* Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry, you don't know how lovely you are. I had to find you tell you I need you, tell you that I set you apart.

Running in circles, coming up tails, Heads on a science apart. Nobody said it was easy, it's such a shame for us to part, nobody said it was easy. No one ever said it would be this hard". *

I feel like it fits the tone of this story really well, anyway I hope you all enjoy this it's been coming for a long time and I've finally got round to writing it . 🌻💕

🌻

It should be a typical Friday night for Bucky, as usual when he's single he is at a bar with Sam and Steve except unusually tonight he just feels lost.

He doesn't want to be here, at this bar. Sam is gently encouraging sensing that he needs support rather than their usual banter and it is nice but it isn't helping his strange mood.

Steve keeps watching him intently, it unnerves him. It's like he senses the turmoil that Bucky is feeling, the empty pit in his stomach since y/n left.

Fantastic.

"Hey, I'm Lexi". A blonde sidles up to him fluttering her eyelashes while he's lost in his thoughts. Anxiety bubbles in his stomach as for one very brief moment he just wants to forget this ache that he's feeling.

Somewhere deep inside though he knows it wouldn't help and he steps away. He just doesn't want to be in another relationship situation that's all.

If he's being honest the thought of being with anyone turns his stomach cold, fuck, what the hell is wrong with him?

Shrugging away from the woman he hurries away needing some fresh air and to think.

It's one thing to feel this fucking ache all the time but now this happens.

Wasn't it just last year that Peggy - Steve's wife who told him things very bluntly and to the point) that one day his relationship style would come back and bite him on the ass and she was right.

Steve follows him out and clasps his shoulders gently.

"What's happening to me, Stevie?". Deep down he knows but he's scared, he's scared of accepting how he truly feels about y/n, of opening up and being vulnerable.

"Buck". He runs his hand through his hair while pacing back and forth.

"I miss her Steve". This isn't as big a surprise to Steve as it to him as Steve barely reacts. Fuck, he knows him too well.

"I know you do, you've been a wreck Buck, Sam and I are worried about you. We need to talk about you and y/n".

He sighs and sits beside Steve on the benches outside the bar and he swallows ready to slowly open up to his best pal.

"How do you feel about her?". Steve asks softly waiting patiently for an answer as Bucky mulls this question over.

"I love her and it terrifies me, I'm scared of getting hurt, heartbroken if I fully give myself to her. I've never been in love Steve and it scares me". Steve softens and takes a moment before replying.

"Buck we all get scared, we are all worried about getting hurt but at the end of the day, love is worth the risk. What if there is no heartbreak? What if she's the one?. You have a chance at love, real love Buck and you'll regret it for the rest of your life if you let her slip away from you".

Steve's words sink in and he buries his face in his hands, he feels a little lighter at getting his worries off his chest but still anxious if he has lost y/n for good.

"Did you know that I was falling for her Steve"? He asks his eyes widening as he realises that Steve and probably even Peggy and Sam knew. Was it that obvious to his friends but not to himself?

"Yup, honestly Buck, She made you so happy. You adored her, we could all see it, you gotta take a chance man, take a chance on love. Don't lose her over this".

Ice freezes in his chest.

"I broke her heart, I've lost her". She'd never forgive him he thinks stomach clenching in pain.

"How do you know that? if you won't even try to make amends?". Make amends?. Could he do this, win her back?

Where does he even begin?

🌻

"Oh, you've got to be shitting me". Natasha growls and y/n turns to her confused noticing Wanda's anxious expression as she peers out of the window.

"What is it?". Wanda turns to her as Natasha glares down at whatever has pissed her off.

"It's Bucky. He's here honey". What is he doing here? She can't see him like this, she feels wrecked inside so how will she be able to keep together?

Natasha wraps her arm around her, she loved that Nat was so fiercely protective but deep down she knew that facing Bucky was something she would do by herself, perhaps it would be cathartic seeing him one last time?

Or it would just break her already fragile heart all over again.

When Bucky arrives at the door she schools her expression to appear confident and ready to face anything he throws at her, strong.

That's what she tells herself and she sticks to it...just.

"Hey". He's nervous she can tell and it makes her want to rush over and comfort him but for now, she stays put and cuts straight to the chase.

"Hi, look Bucky I don't get why you're here".

Whatever she was expecting him to say she wasn't prepared for his features to crumple and his tough demeanour to shatter.

"I miss you, baby. I'm an idiot for letting you go".

She swallows down the emotions that threaten to bubble over and explode, she's a mess of confusion and anger. Anger because why couldn't he have figured that out before he broke her heart.

The other side of her, the side that is missing him so much knows how hard it is for him right now to be so vulnerable in front of her so she calms a little.

"I told you how I felt and you don't feel the same, I miss you so much Bucky but I can't be with someone who doesn't feel the same way as I do, that's not fair. Like it wouldn't be fair for you to be pressured into returning those feelings".

He shakes his head and takes a tentative step towards her wary of Natasha who is much calmer but still glowering at him.

"I know how I feel, his voice turns softer and he moves closer taking his hand in hers. The way I feel about you is exhilarating and terrifying all at the same time".

He takes a breath and speaks again reaching up to cup her cheek.

"I love you, I fell in love with you from the moment that we met and I promise if you give me a chance I will spend every single day making sure you know just how much I love you".

She melts into him and kisses him her heart soaring with happiness that he loves her, he's here and loves her and that's all that matters

✨🖤

God I've missed writing about this man 😭 hoping to get back into it.

Also I've recently started writing for the Stranger Things fandom, mostly it's just Eddie Munson x Reader for now but I'm a big fan of Steve too just FYI. 💕

[stardustnfreckles]

To celebrate the DeanCas100k on ao3 here's a list of my all-time favourite Destiel fanfictions:

CANON VERSE

A turn of the earth Dean’s your typical half-orphaned, monster-killing 22-year-old until a trenchcoated stranger crashes into his back windshield one September night, claiming he’s an angel that knows him from the future and that he’s on the run.

Early seasons!Dean keeps meeting Cas at the most random moments, till he isn’t anymore... Definetly a must read.

In the shadow of your wings

Set after the S11 finale. Dean kinda breaks Cas’ heart. Because sometimes he can be thick SOB. The Cas finds a new shiny and witty italian boyfriend and Dean’s not happy about it. and now Sam is missing, Mary is back and Dean has a mixed bag of feelings he has to deal with. Probably my favorite canonverse ever.

Like moses and batman and James Dean dean used to turn tricks. over a decade later, he met cas.

A masterpiece in characterization by saltyfeathers. I loved everything, The dialogues, the flashbacks, the way Dean and Cas emotions are portrayed. There’s angst and internalized homophobia but also confort and IT IS JUST SO GOOD OK?

The best bang for your buck It’s not like Castiel knows who this GotImpala67 person is. There’s no personal information listed on their profile. Except that they’re male, thirty-seven, from Kansas and, apparently, they like inserting things inside themselves.

Cas plays dumb even tho he really is not and I love him for it. Dean is the kind of buyer who leaves detailed reviews of the products he buys (which is the best kind if you ask me) I love the writer’s style and their sense of humor. It’s short although I never get tired of re-reading this one. Also Bring up the deep & Till the juice runs from the same author are with mentioning.

Kisses by sunflowers beds by fanforfanatics & Watched by K_K_TiBal

This two fics have a on thing in common: At the end of both you’ll be asking yourself how can less than 5k hurt you so much?

I cried, then I smiled and cried some more. This fics will crush you in the best way possible.

Take me home country roads The most IC Deamon!Dean I’ve ever read. It’s a rollercoaster of emotions.

What’s missing is found (our souls can exhale now) by sobsicles aka queen of post S15 fix-it fics

That black dog ache A simple case turns Dean upside down as he attempts to deal with the effects of a particularly strange love spell.

The perfect gift Castiel has a big problem concerning Dean... thankfully, Sam is always around to help

Really short Crack!Fic about Cas being clueless and adorable.

So says the sword by komodobits

Actually I suggest to go on their ao3 profile and read EVERYTHING.

The profet must die

Dean starts reading Chuck’s book out of curiosity and ends up having a epiphany about his apparently not so much platonic relationship with a certain angel of the lord.

A room of one’s own All Dean wants is a little privacy. Cas doesn't understand.

It mostly smut with a bit of healthy angst and great amount of humor.

My Roots Take Flight After forty years in Hell, Dean’s more than willing to accept the offer: become a guardian angel and earn his freedom. But his new ward seems destined to hunt alongside Sam, and there are secrets in Heaven that the angels don’t want found out. Dean’s going to have to choose between his duty and the people he loves- and to work out just where Castiel fits in.

Reverse!Verse set in season 4. It’s interesting to watch their relationship develop even if the roles are reversed.

The hands that bind me Dean is struggling with adjusting back into the civilized world after a year of fighting for his life in Purgatory. He's going to need some angelic assistance reining in his darker impulses.

If your’re into BDSM/Sub!Dean/Dom!Cas/Hurt/Confort/Dark themes then that’s the fic for you.

What has eight tentacles and isn’t allowed to eat pie? Dean is an octopus 🐙 and it’s weird but also kinda sweet.

Cuckoo and nest For a long time, Castiel thought that every earthly possession other than the immediately necessary was excess to requirement. But Dean – Dean who named his car, who keeps a photograph of his mother in his wallet, some thirty-plus years after her death, who still has the crumpled ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign with a sleeping pelican emblazoned on it from the Microtel outside of Roanoke where he first kissed Castiel, clumsy and unsure, under the unsteady fluorescence of an exhausted bathroom bulb – is sentimental. it puzzles Castiel, where Dean draws the line between what is meaningful and what it is worthless.

Established relationship/ they’re really bad at communication/ fluff / hurt confort

Put up your dukes Dean can't sleep. Cas offers to tire him out.

Along my restless palms Ever since Cas started staying in the bunker, Dean’s been having these crazy dreams—dreams that feature him and Cas in absurd, tawdry scenarios like something out of a filthy paperback. Dean chalks it up to exhaustion, or some monster messing with his head, anything to ignore the real cause: Cas in his personal space, in various states of undress, and, wow, way more muscular than Dean would’ve expected. But if it’s just physical lust that’s the cause, then that’s an easy fix, right? No big deal. There’s definitely nothing else that his subconscious is trying to tell him. Absolutely not.

last but not least Pretty much anything by xylodemon. The atmosphere and the way characters are portrayed are *chef kiss* There are a lor of case fics and they really feels like actual episodes from supernatural just way less omophobic and more fun.

[jungkook-fanfic-blog]

“It’s Not A Kink, I Swear”

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook/Reader

Summary: You always wanted to try something with your boyfriend, but never had the courage to say it. You’re always reminded of it whenever you look at his tattoos.

Genre: Smut, little bit of fluff, established relationship, idol verse

Warnings: PWP, dom/sub themes, dom!Jungkook, sub!Reader, dirty talk, praise, forearm riding, unprotected sex (wrap your dickies, don’t get kiddies), creampie, ass grabbing, nipple play, short handjob, somewhat cockwarming, name calling (Jungkook calls reader slut like once), cussing

Word count: 2.7K

☆☆☆☆☆ 

Walking inside the apartment you shared with your boyfriend you instantly felt relief, mostly because the AC was on while the world outside was on fire, but also because you couldn't wait to spend some time with your boyfriend, despite him coming home at a crazy time. Putting away the take out you picked up on your way from work you call out into the seemingly empty apartment, there was noise coming from the living room, like your TV was on even though you distinctly remember turning it off before going to work. 

"Kook? Baby you here?"

You heard a grunt in response coming from the living room, walking into it, you saw your boyfriend lying on the sofa, remote in hand and flipping through channels. It was a rare sight to see him at home before you, knowing just how demanding his job is and how packed his schedule is. It definitely was a rare sight, but one that put a goofy smile onto your face.

"Hello babygirl, how was work?" He asked, pouting his lips to get a kiss from you to which you gladly complied. Kissing his pouting soft lips you let out a small giggle which brought a smile to his face. Jungkook sat up, grabbing your forearm and pulling you onto his lap, hugging your waist. You let out a quiet 'fine' as you wrap your arms around his neck. Just noticing that he was wearing a tank top, his muscles and tattoos on full display.

You told him multiple times he should reveal all his tattoos to their fans, knowing damn well there are fans who would kill to see them all and see your boyfriend in a tank top, proudly showing them off. Jungkook was still a little hesitant about the whole thing, but he was getting more comfortable showing them. You secretly loved that you're one of the few people that actually got to see him, see his tattoos, like this. 

It made you feel special.

Although just the thought of his tattoos was enough to get you excited, thinking of his inked fingers inside you, fucking you until you can't think was extremely inviting and pleasing to you. You never really liked tattoos, always seeing them on men that would talk big shit, saying how they are basically gods against men. So really maybe you didn't have a problem with tattoos, but with whom you associated them with.

And then the pictures dropped. Pics of Jungkook and his new sleeve tattoos, his knuckles graced with the word ARMY on them, and honestly you thought it was the hottest thing you'd ever seen. You did message your boyfriend asking him about them, well more like sending him the pictures with a message attached that said "Motherfucker what the fuck?!!!" You were experiencing a lot of emotion at the time, one particular emotion, one spark, that you never believed would come from a guy with ink, but one that always came from Jungkook.

Fuck maybe you shouldn't have thought of it so much, you could already feel yourself starting to get wet, getting more comfortable on his lap you grind lightly on his crotch, catching his attention.

"What are you up to princess?" Jungkook smirks at you, watching how your eyes dilate slowly and your expression becomes more lust filled.

You felt his strong hands move downwards on your ass, squeezing it tightly. You always did joke with your boyfriend that he had an ass kink, no matter how much he denied it. Always showed him photographic evidence of it, pictures of him and his hands on his members' asses or videos of him slapping them, there was even the time Jungkook said touching their butts was a way to relieve nerves before a concert.

He truly was an ass man.

"You like it babygirl?" He asked while he massaged your cheeks and squeezing here and there. You let out a whimper, moving your hips more, your eyes darted to his right forearm and bicep every once in a while, catching Jungkook's attention.

"What is it baby? What do you want?" He was teasing you and he knew it, you always got shy when telling him exactly what you wanted him to do, yet he loved hearing you say it and beg for him to give you a release. Yet you couldn't utter the things you wanted from him, thinking it might freak him out although you knew he'd give you anything and everything you wanted. "Come on baby, speak."

His big hands moved to your breasts, immediately pinching your clothed nipples between his fingers making your back arch and have your chest pressed against his own. Your hands planted themselves on his pecs this time, always loving the feeling of his hard muscles under your fingertips. Jungkook suddenly twisted your sensitive buds, you were moaning in delight at the attention you were given.

He started kissing your neck slowly, "You're not telling me Y/N." He said in a sing-sang voice, tone teasing with a hint of dominance, he wanted you to tell him, and he wanted it now.

"I-it's a little dirty." You stuttered, cheeks hot at the thoughts that were swimming around your head, at the actions and feelings you wanted to act upon.

"Oh I'm counting on that princess."

"It is also something we've never done and might be a tad weird." You pulled your lower lip between your teeth, your brain telling you to turn back now while there was still time and do everything like you always have, but your body was craving it, wanting to experience this. At least once. Jungkook gave an amused 'oh' at that, leaving wet, hot kisses on your jaw.

"Now I'm extra intrigued." He began sucking hard on your collarbone, no doubt leaving red marks all over them. You could feel his hardened bulge directly on your pussy, igniting the fire between your thighs even more. Suddenly you wanted nothing more than to get out of your jeans, the barrier between the pleasure that was awaiting you. Moving away from Jungkook for a second you began unbuttoning your jeans, wanting to get up and get them off but your partner had other plans. Jungkook flipped you and pressed your back against the sofa, easily hooking his fingers in your pants, as well as your panties, and sliding them down with ease.

He flipped you back so you were once again straddling his lap, your juices leaking out and making a mess of his gray sweats. You could feel the ache of your pussy, your clit wanting to receive attention from your super fucking hot boyfriend. Fuck, he is so beautiful.

"Tell me your fantasy Y/N," Jungkook whispered in your ear, making a shiver run down your spine in anticipation. 

"I-I want to ride," you lick your dry lips, moving your eyes from Jungkook's intense gaze to look down at his shirt. Jungkook cocked his head to the side, urging you to continue, "I want to try riding your forearm." You mumbled the last word while burying your face in his neck, shyness overtaking you after placing the request, despite you being half naked on top of him.

Jungkook grabbed your thighs, spreading them more over his lap, a smirk playing on his lips. He moved his left arm underneath them but halted as you grabbed his wrist, "Not this arm." He let out a chuckle, moving his right arm under you and lifting it so it's pressed against your throbbing bud. A delicious moan left your throat at the feeling of his skin against you, making you instantly move against it.

You dig your nails into his shoulders to steady yourself, eyes closing as you lost yourself to the feeling. The smooth skin rubbing at your most sensitive part, the knowledge that you’re making a mess of his gorgeous tattoos made your hips buck into his forearm more, needing to feel more. You were moving faster, feeling your release close in the pit of your stomach. Jungkook's fingers grabbed your ass and squeezed it, loving the way a gasp fell past your lips at the added sensation.

"Ah...mmm...fuck Kook!" You moaned into your boyfriend's neck, wrapping your arms tightly around it.

"Close, my love?" His tone was teasing, you were getting sloppier with your movements, going from front to back, to one side and other, in circles which did mean you were close and he knew it. "Come on babygirl, cum. Cum all over my arm. Make a fucking mess like you fucking wanted."

And those dirty words were enough to push you off the edge. The sheer thought of getting to see his veiny, tattoo-covered forearm covered in your cum, glistening with your sweet release was the last drop that spilled the water out of the glass. "Fuck! Jungkook!" You were cumming with a loud moan, riding out your high slowly. Your hips slowed down their movements at the oversensitivity of your clit. You felt kisses on your cheek and forehead, silent praises of 'you did so good' and 'such a good girl for me' fell past your boyfriend's lips.

"Was it everything you hoped for?" Jungkook asked as you lifted your head from his shoulder, his big bunny smile in front of your eyes. You nodded your head mumbling a 'yeah' in affirmation. You took a glance at his forearm, whining in delight at the sight, his arm and tattoos glistening in cum under the light. 

Jungkook started kissing your neck again, sucking sweetly, licking and biting intensely, no doubt making hickies that he'll gloat about later especially if someone points them out. At some point Jungkook lifted his hips up and took off his sweats down to his knees, you suppose you were sucked into your pleasure too much to notice him undressing. 

You looked down at his boxers immediately noticing the tent in them and a wet spot at the top of it, you moved your hand to the elastic band of his boxers and pulled them down to expose his cock. As it sprung free hitting his lower stomach your hand hovered over it before squeezing and rubbing the head of his cock which was spilling precum down his shaft. Jungkook hissed at your touch, his cock was very hard and sensitive and ready to be slipped inside your wet, hot cunt.

He lifted you by your thighs and positioned you directly over his dick, his head rubbing at your entrance teasing you as he slid it in a little then out. You mewled at the teasing of it wanting to feel him inside hitting that heavenly spot that made you go weak in the knees and cry out in pleasure. You tried lowering yourself down on his cock but Jungkook held you tighter not letting you on it.

"Not yet babygirl, not yet." He kissed your cheek, "Beg for it little slut." He entered you suddenly, his girth stretching your pussy pleasantly, yet he didn't move just yet only stayed inside of you, hard and unmoving. 

"Beg." Jungkook's voice was stern practically ordering you what to do and you fucking loved it. You loved when he dominated over you, when you gave him all of you, your mind and body, he took care of you so well. You tried moving on his cock, lifting your hips to feel the thrusts that always make you scream but were denied once again.

You whined at the loss of pleasure, cheeks heating up as you muttered the next words, "Please Jungkook fuck me with you cock. Wanna cum again. Fill me with your hot cum, please." Your face felt hot at the dirty way you begged for his cock, begged him to give you the pleasure only he was capable of providing. Suddenly you felt him thrust himself into you hard, immediately finding and hitting your G-spot earning a loud moan like whine out of you, nails digging into his shoulders. 

You felt full, felt complete.

Jungkook didn't give you any time to adjust to his cock, thrusting deep inside you which made you yell out in delight. He never slowed down his thrusts only lifting his hips inside you in perfect rhythm, the head of his cock hitting your spot over and over again bringing you closer to another delightful release. His grunts and low moans were only fuel that made the experience of his relentless work that much better. You loved when he moaned, when he grunts in pleasure that he was receiving from you. 

"Fuck baby, so nice and tight for me." He nibbled on your ear, "Love fucking this pussy." His sultry voice whispered in your ear, he knew how weak you got when he spoke like that. He pulled your shirt up to your breasts, pulling the bra down to expose them for himself. He licked both nipples at first, but began sucking on the left one, squeezing and massaging the right one. You bit down on your lower lip at the excessive amount of euphoria you were experiencing. 

"Mmm...ah fhuck." Your words were broken, eyes closed tightly and mouth opening to let out whimpers and moans. You couldn't focus on anything but his sweet licks and sucks, his massaging and squeezing, his powerful thrusts which were bringing you closer to your second orgasm and closer to his orgasm as well. "Mmm Koo need cum." 

He detached himself from your sensitive nipples with a loud pop, there was a throaty chuckle from your boyfriend, "You need cum, hmm? Whose cum baby?" You whined at his teasing, nibbling your lip again, he knew what you needed yet he was being a little jerk about it. "Oh wait little one, did you mean you need to cum?" You could only nod in agreement as you started moving your hips to the rhythm of his movements. 

"Fucking - ngh shit - fucking cum for me again,” he moaned again, throwing his head back against the couch before telling you to look at him and locking eyes with you. “Cream around my cock babydoll, milk it dry." If you thought his thrusts were hard before they started being merciless now. Jungkook was chasing his own orgasm as well and every time he became sloppier and harder with his momentum. A particular harder push against your spot had you cumming around him.

“Jungkook!” You were screaming his name in pure bliss, pussy tightening and keeping his hard dick inside. You felt his cock twitch, the feeling of your tightness had him cumming deep inside you as well, filling your wet walls with his hot, white seed. “Mghm...fucking hell!” 

Jungkook slowed down, hugging you around the waist, burying his face in your soft breasts, panting heavily. His girthy cock was still inside you keeping all his cum where it belonged, as he would say. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you tried catching your breath, hair sticking to your foreheads as you moved his wet bangs from it, giving a quick kiss on top of it.

Jungkook cradled your face in his hands, giving loving kisses on your swollen lips. “I love you.” He mumbled giving you yet another kiss that had you smiling into it.

“And I love you.” 

Jungkook embraced you into his chest, laying down with you on top of him. “Do you plan on taking your dick out of me?” You ask with a giggle against his neck, placing a small kiss there. He hummed silently while locking his fingers in your hair, running through it gently.

“Just a little longer.”

You gave a silent noise in agreement, cuddling closer to him. You could feel his cock becoming softer inside, yet you didn’t really care, you always enjoyed being close to Jungkook like this. You knew you’d have to get up to clean yourselves, but you wanted to stay like this a little longer.

“So, how did that kink work out for you?” You ears felt hot at his simple question.

“It’s not a kink.” You tried to weakly defend yourself, fists curling into his tank top..

“Suuuuure.” Jungkook’s sarcasm was practically dripping from his voice.

You whined, “It’s not a kink, I swear!” 

Jungkook only laughed at your response.

[haddonfieldproject]

<<PREVIOUS⏺<<CONTENTS>>

1.3.13 SATURDAY NOVEMBER 1st 1:29 PM

Warren County, Illinois

Reverend Taylor snapped off his goggles and threw them down on his work table. He then put down his welding torch beside the goggles and inspected what he had done. Nodding approvingly, he picked the remote control up from the table. An old fashioned box shaped television sat on top of a behomith blue toolbox across the workshop. The Good Reverend, hit the VOLUME UP button and the room was filled with the voice of James Christian, the high profile reporter from Vision World News:

“You are looking live now outside of Haddonfield County General Hospital as we await Governor Kathleen Joyce of Illinois to come to the stage for an official briefing on the crisis situation going on in her state. As soon as she takes the podium we will cut in so we can listen together to what she has to say...”

Reverend Taylor held up his handi-work. Forging the symbol had not been difficult. He had decided that the pair of stainless steel chopsticks that his father had given him as a house-warming gift all those years ago to be the best instrument for the job. Stainless steel chopsticks had been quite the “far out” and novel thing to have in 1973, but he had maybe used them once in all those years. He was a meat and potatoes kind of man, rarely branching out from American cuisine, and when he did, he used a knife and fork like any normal red, white, and blue male. In Rev's mind, these pieces of retro utensil novelty had finally found a reason for existence in his house.

We all have our purpose, he had thought.

His welding torch was strickly that: a welding torch—-the small compact kind that he had bought at Hagan's Hardware Store fifteen years ago. What it was not, was a cutting torch, so heating one of the chopsticks to the point of severing the piece in two had been tedious, but it had been done.

Rev took one half of the now severed piece and flattened one end so it nearly matched the other, as neatly as he could. Then he took the other piece, and heated the center just enough to bend it into a right angle, forming two sides of a triangle. This piece, he then welded to the other, completing the triangle, but leaving about an inch of stick at the top and an inch of stick at the bottom. Like a straight vertical line merged with an arrow pointing to the right. Like this:

He then took the other chopstick and welded one end of this to the center of the long and straight piece to create a handle. This he held now as he padded across to the corner of his workshop and to the potbelly stove which stood there. The stove had belonged to his great grandmother when she had lived in a one-room shamble shack off Harris Road... what was then called Crow Coal Bluff.

Ina Shirlene Taylor sold the house, and her land on the “bluff” to Morgan Strode in 1906, who removed the escarpment from the landscape, scooped all the coal out underneath of it, paved Harris Road, turning it into a “street”, and by 1928, selling all of the land for retail development. The sight of the old Taylor shack was now the sight of a Crazy Chan's Chinese restaurant. The stove was the only relic from that old place, and now it most of the time gathered dust in Revered Taylor's basement workshop.

Rev opened the little door on the stove and stuck his masterpiece into the hot coals, leaving the handle sticking out of the hatch. He then turned toward the television. The Governor was taking the podium. Her expression, which generally always gave the impression of a lack of concern for the welfare of other people was enhanced by the severely short spikes adorning her head.

Reverend Taylor scoffed when he saw her, “But if a woman have long hair, it is a glory to her: for her hair is given her for a covering, sayeth God in Paul's testimony to the people of Corinth, chapter eleven, verse fifteen”, he thought to himself, pulling his little office chair from his work table toward the center of the room, and grabbing a seat in front of the television.

“Good afternoon.” The Governor began, “Beginning at midnight on Friday morning and ending at roughly eight o'clock this morning, an unfortunate and terrible series of events combined together to create a tragic state of emergency for our friends and loved ones in North-Central Illinois.”

The Reverend smiled to himself. The Lord hath made all things for himself: yea, even the wicked for the day of evil, sayeth Solomon's proverb, he thought.

Governor Joyce continued, “At 12 am on Friday October 31st, an extremely disturbed and dangerous patient by the name of Michael Myers escaped Smith's Grove Psychiatric Hospital during a routine patient transfer. We strongly believe at this time that he may be responsible for several deaths and injuries to persons both in Smiths Grove and Haddonfield. At this time, out of respect for the victims and for the integrity of our investigation we cannot give you the names of any of the victims or even an accurate count of the casualties.”

The Reverend stood up and walked to his work table, grabbing the gray oven mitt he had brought down from upstairs. The prophet Isaiah sayeth, 'I form the light, and create darkness: I make peace, and create evil: I the Lord do all these things.'

Rev put on the mitt and walked across the room toward the potbelly stove, listening to the Governor's speech: “In addition, approximatley twenty-four hours after Myers' escape, the brothers' Lloyd and Lee Chumway, two armed and dangerous and wanted individuals out of Biloxi Mississippi entered Warren County and were also responsible for several deaths in the area. Again we cannot turn over any names or any numbers at this time.”

Swinging open the door, Rev pulled what he had fashioned from the stove. The design on the end of the handle burned red hot. He looked at it with a smile and then he looked across the room. His basement was a long rectangular room with the stairs on one end, and the only window on the other. His work bench ran along one of the longer concrete-block walls. On the shortest wall, opposite the wall with the steps leading up into the rest of the house, was where the pot belly stove was, along with the furnace to the house and the large tank of the water heater. On the other long wall, opposite hit massive work table, stood his gun cabinet, his large blue tool chest that held up the television, and a long wooden table.

This table was mostly kept clear, and most often than not was for drying things that Reverend Taylor had freshly painted. The other table was littered with tools, pieces of wood, rolls of tape, markers, papers, and the like. On the wall before it was a peg board, with numerous pegs, on which were mounted various other tools and work utensils. The wall behind the opposite table was clear, like the table most often was, only now, the table was not clear.

The Shape lay upon the table.

Reverend Taylor had fastened a thick metal chain around the hulking body of the man, wrapping it several times around his chest and thighs, threading it through the bottom of the thick oak table, and locking it with a large padlock. The Shape lay on his back, with his blackened face to the ceiling, his feet slack to either side, and his arms by his side. He had not moved or made a sound since Rev had knocked him with the stock of his shotgun. The Shape's left arm lay palm down on the table, the blackened sleeve of whatever remained of his garment was down to his wrist. Reverend Taylor had turned The Shape's right arm however so that the palm was facing up. He had peeled back the sleeve—peel being a good word for it considering that large chunks of the man's burnt flesh had come with the sleeve, giving off a pungent sickly odor in the process. The underside of The Shape's forearm sat bare in the harsh flat glow of the basement's florescent lights.

The Reverend came toward The Shape now, holding his glowing brand before him.

“The mercy of the Lord is liken to a rose, but His vengance is liken to the thorn.” He spoke aloud, and then pressed the red-hot symbol down into the flesh of the forearm.

The Shape's head snapped back and forth, the feet began to move as well. There was a hiss as the steel cooked off a layer of skin, followed by a whiff of the odor of burning flesh. The Shape snapped up his right arm in a flash, knocking Reverend Taylor back. He stumbled against his office chair and crashed into the opposite table. A roll of masking tape and a red Solo cup filled with screws crashed to the floor, along with the brand, which hit the smooth concrete with a large TING!

Reverend Taylor watched, not wanting to move, not wanting to breathe even as The Shape bucked and thrashed in his chains for a few seconds, and then abruptly fell silent and still. The Rev gathered up the misplaced items off the floor and then took a seat in the chair with a long exhale.

It is finished, he thought with a smile. He turned toward the television. The Governor had been replaced at the podium by a face he knew well. Fred Colbourne, Deputy Fire Chief of Warren County. A member of the press in the crowd in front of the podium had raised her hand, Fred pointed to her.

“You say at this time you believe the fire was accidental, do we know how this fire started, how you came to that conclusion?” The woman asked.

Fred responded, “The fire originated from a supply closet near the front of the building. The closet had various flammable tanks inside and we believe that something caused ignition here and led to the explosion. We have not found any inciderary devices such as a bomb or a fuse or what-have-you that would lead us to suspect foul play, that being said, the cause of ignition itself still remains a mystery.”

Reverend Taylor smiled. The Lord works in mysterious ways, he thought.

NEXT>>

[tripleaxeldiaz]

lauren’s big bad buddie fic rec list

@shanebiebs has hopped on the buddie train and asked for recs, and boy do i have a lot!! this absolutely doesn’t cover every good fic in the fandom, but these are my personal faves!! happy reading <33

fics:

haircut to the heart by itsmylifekay

5 times Buck cuts Christopher’s hair and 1 time Christopher helps cut his.

Or, little slices of life following Eddie and Buck getting their shit together and becoming a family.

the ivory keys by tkreyesevandiaz

Buck didn’t think he’d come back to this one thing again.

As a kid, he’d crashed into the habit like a beautiful accident. He’d stumbled upon the old instrument in the guest house where his parents usually held brunches and parties for other aristocrats in their circles, at age eight. After hearing the reverberating sound from the keys, it became an obsession to learn.

5-4-3-2-1 by elisela

For all the times that Eddie has practiced getting into his turnout suit in record time, he never bothered figuring out how to get out of it just as fast. He would be regretting that if he could think about anything other than the fact that Buck went over the pier rail twenty-six seconds ago, and disappeared into the dark water seventeen seconds ago.

I can’t love you in the dark by justhockey

Evan doesn’t do anything quietly.

Except, maybe, love Eddie.

Enjoy the Moment by BabylonsFall

Eddie has a plan. He has a ring, and he has a plan.

...So why can't he seem to make himself follow it?

You're Gonna Be Okay, Kid by SevenSoulmates

When I was eight years old, my step dad took me to the Santa Monica pier.

lest he be consumed by thisissirius

“Eddie,” Buck says, crouching down, hand to Eddie’s cheek. “There’s nothing you can do here, now, that will make me leave, you understand?”

set post-eddie begins.

four a.m. by asguardian

"The night darkens the sky, grey clouds tracing overhead. It’s almost peaceful, a welcomed end to a hectic day. But then he remembers Buck, nowhere to be seen. Buck, who, of course, could never simply witness a peaceful moment like this. Buck, who, naturally, would want to be up close, feeling the cold rain in his hands, on his skin, anywhere he could find it.

It seems obvious now; Eddie would never find Buck inside the station when there’s so much more to be said outside. A quiet, pouring night to end the bustling, restless day. Buck would follow the pour, follow the only sound to be heard. His eyes would brighten at the sight of it, despite the restlessness of the day."

___

Buck follows the rain, so Eddie follows Buck, wherever he may lead.

dream of some epiphany by extasiswings

Evan Buckley is lost.

It’s happenstance that he wanders into the navy recruiting center—he’s been in San Diego for a few weeks, bartending late nights and weekends, living in a house with three other guys not because he needs the roommates but because he doesn’t want to be alone, and the military is…respectable. Stable. So Buck thinks maybe and opens the door.

Buck leaves ten minutes later with a set of printed instructions for sending his first letter, assured that he can drop it off whenever he’s ready, and a name.

Staff Sergeant Edmundo “Eddie” Diaz.

Leading with the Left by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

When Buck said he was a "bartender" in "South America" what he actually meant was "stripper" in "Mexico."

And when Eddie said, "What's your problem?" what he actually meant was, "Is this about the time you gave me a lap dance?"

In other words, there's a few things the 118 doesn't know about Buck. Or Eddie. Or Buck and Eddie's relationship.

like flowers filling my head by gracieli

In the aftermath of the explosion, Buck takes up gardening. It helps.

series:

the trees of vermont by elisela and thisissirius (and one part by me lol)

No Sincerer Love by elisela

Buck and Eddie by throughfire

white house AU by buddiebuddie (positivelystisaac)

work by itsmylifekay

Jerusalem Bells are Ringing (Jewish!Buck ‘verse) by matan4il

I Hate Accidents (Except When We Went From Friends to This) by Signsofsam

authors:

@elisela 

@extasiswings 

@letmetellyouaboutmyfeels 

@thisissirius 

@zeethebooknerd (tkreyesevandiaz on ao3)

@gracieli 

@madamewriterofwrongs (CelesteJEvans on ao3)

throughfire on ao3

[yespolkadotkitty]

So this is a very basic prompt, a line that came to me in the middle of the night that could be used for either Pero or Ezra (your choice!) with our dear reader: “‘Don’t worry,’ he said, his beard tickling as his lips ghost your neck, you shivering for a completely different reason than cold, ‘I’ll keep you and your bed warm.’”

Warm

(unrelated gifd but who can resist??)

Your little patch of the planet is cold tonight. Ezra’s out harvesting, determined to get at least a few hauls in with his one arm, practicing, a grim set to his mouth as he left. There’s no arguing with him when he’s like this.

You make tea, potter, arrange the trophy cases you’ve both collected so far so they look their best for tomorrow’s market trip across the dunes.

The tea warms you a little but the cold permeates your little homestead, and you climb into bed, shivering, the hot water bottle at your feet doing little to warm you up.

At some point you drift off into sleep, the sound of the wind outside on the windows lulling you.

When you wake, it’s to the sound of footsteps. You half-open your eyes, hear Ezra curse, walk into the bedframe.

You smile to yourself as he slips into bed beside you. He’s been wearing the spacesuit and his body is all warm from the heat it generates, and you instinctively snuggle back into the long, lean lines of him. He’s hard everywhere except his lips and the slight swell of his middle, which you love beyond reason.

“Ezra,” you murmur. “You came back.”

“And where else would I venture to, Hummingbird? My home’s right here, with you.”

“Was cold,” you say sleepily.

“‘Don’t worry,’ he whispers, his beard tickling as his lips ghost your neck, making you shiver for a completely different reason than cold, ‘I’ll keep you and your bed warm.’”

You shuffle closer as his arm bands around you.

“I know you will. You always do. Ez,” you keen as you feel him harden against you. You turn your head and kiss his sweet mouth, drinking him in, the faint lick of coffee and the familiar scent of his scruff, he smells of home.

“Sometimes I dream I crawl inside your heart, Hummingbird. You’re the safest place I’ve ever known,” he murmurs, and tears prick your eyes, and suddenly you need him so fiercely. You turn in his embrace and start grabbing at his clothes, pushing down his sleep pants and wrapping your hands around him. He groans into your mouth and you’ll do anything to hear that sound again, and you pet and stroke him until your palms are slick with his arousal.

In the dark you nose at his cheek, drink in his scent. He leans heavily against you, his armless side to the mattress as he slides his hand down your stomach, under your sleep shirt and between your legs. You arch up into his touch.

“I fear true skill still eludes me, Humming-” his words dissolve into a satisfied grunt as you twist your wrist just so, and he bucks into your palms, then breathes, “Please.”

His ministrations have got you good and wet - non-dominant hand or not, Ezra’s touch always turns your insides to liquid fire - and you position him. He slides into you. The stretch is divine. He stays still for a long moment, his hand braced on your hip.

“Ezra.  Feels so good.”

“I know, sweet girl, I know it.” His fingers clench on your skin and he starts to thrust, shallow little moves, like he can’t bear to be outside you for too long.

When you come together, it’s the sweetest music that only the two of you can hear.

He makes to pull out, but you wrap your leg around him; snuggle in. “Warm me.”

A sound that’s half dreamy sigh, half whimper, escapes his lips. “No better place in the ‘verse, Hummingbird.”

And you both sleep, cocooned in the warmth of your home.

Unbeta’d. Tagging the Pedro pals:

@heatherbel @mourningbirds1 @alldatalost @songsformonkeys @nelba @soldade @agirllovespasta @knittingqueen13 @gamingaquarius @mrschiltoncat @dornish-queen @alienprincesspoop @starlight-starwrites @abuttoncalledsmalls @keeper0fthestars @thegreenkid @chews-erotically @jaime1110 @mstgsmy @lackofhonor @mrsparknuts @alwaysbethewest @cryptkeepersoul @phoenixhalliwell @oloreaa @buckstaposition @pedropascallion @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @holographic-carmen

[seanfalco]

Definitely, Maybe | Nathan Young x Reader

Word Count: 1k Warnings: Language, Smut Requested by: Anonymous Prompt: You’re stuff is just wow! I can’t read enough! Would you ever be interested in writing another Nathan Young imagine in the same vein of “Jealous, Much?” Just instead of a guy maybe flirting with YN, it’s a girl DEFINITELY flirting with YN? + could you please write a nathan x reader smutty oneshot!! maybe where the reader and the gang go out to the pub for the night and afterwards the reader goes home with nathan?😌 a/n: Decided to combine these two prompts together, since smut seemed to be the logical destination :3

——

“Aw c’mon, yeh gotta be kiddin’ me,” Nathan exclaimed, his eyes narrowing as he peered across the dim room.

“What?” Kelly demanded and Nathan gestured with his beer bottle to where [y/n] stood at the bar, and Simon leaned forward as well to peer around Kelly for a better look.

He should be used to this by now, Nathan thought bitterly, seeing how it tended to happen nearly everywhere they went, but really?  Women too now?  

“I don’t see — oh,” Simon exclaimed, finally realizing what the others were looking at.

“Maybe she’s just bein’ friendly,” Kelly suggested, taking a swig, though she didn’t look like she really believed it.

“Oh yeah, friendly, right,” Nathan cried, scandalized.  “She’s been gettin’ friendlier and friendlier each time [y/n] goes up there.  I mean, even Barry sees it,” Nathan continued, gesturing to Simon who nodded before realizing what Nathan was implying and frowned.

“I mean, just look at that, she’s practically throwin’ herself at [y/n].  She saw us come in together.  She’s probably convincin’ her that I’m shite an’ that she can pleasure her better because she’s got lady parts and knows how t’use em.”

“Oh, come off it,” Kelly argued, her ponytail swishing in her agitation.  “So what if the bartender’s hittin’ on her, [y/n] fuckin’ loves ya!  She wouldn’t do that t’ya.”

When Nathan looked doubtful Kelly kicked him under the table.

“Ow!” he cried, reaching down to grab his shin.

“Y’gotta trust me,” Kelly insisted, her eyes flicking to [y/n], who was returning  to the table with their next round of drinks.

“Oh, how do you kno— oh,” Nathan gasped, suddenly remembering Kelly’s powers and his eyebrows raised.

“No,” she cut in sternly, reading his thoughts.

“No, what?” [y/n] asked as she set the fresh bottles on the table before sliding back into the booth next to Nathan who instantly slung his arm around her shoulder, pointedly glaring over to the girl behind the bar.

“Uh…” the three looked at each other, trying to come up with an answer.

“Well, uh, I was just suggestin’,” Nathan said, clutching at straws, “a good ol’ group orgy after this.  Y’know?  But Kelly shot me down and for some reason Barry’s still squeamish after, well, you remember,” he joked and [y/n] rolled her eyes, clearly buying his fib and instantly dismissing it as one of his usual raunchy jokes.

Kelly gave him a disgusted look and he quickly brought his bottle to his lips, finishing it off and grabbing one of the new ones.

——

“So,” he mused, leaning in closer to your side, “that bartender, huh?  Hot or what?” he asked, his eyes flicking over to once again catch her looking your way.  You frowned, shifting in the seat, your eyes narrowing slightly up at him.

“Is that an observation or a question?” you asked, taking a drink and Nathan shrugged, frowning dramatically.

“Just… makin’ conversation.”

“Nathan’s jealous,” Simon announced, leaving Nathan gaping at him, a tiny grin appearing on Simon’s face moments later.

“Oh, I know,” you said, eyeing your boyfriend with a knowing smirk.  “He thinks he’s so subtle.”

“Hey, I’m not jealous,” he insisted, pointing his beer bottle at Simon and then you, “but if I was, I’d have good reason t’be.”

“Uh huh,” you mused, following his eyes.  “I mean, she’s good enough lookin’, I suppose, but I’m not really interested.”

“Y’sure?” Nathan pressed, “I mean, she was practically undressin’ you with her eyes.”

Leaning closer, you grabbed the collar of his flannel shirt and yanked him down so his ear was at your level.  “I’d rather you undress me for real,” you whispered, smirking as he stiffened, and letting go of his shirt, surreptitiously slid you hand down his thigh, causing him to jump, his eyes swinging quickly over to the bar just in time to see the bartender toss her head disgustedly as he shot her a smirk and flipped her off triumphantly behind your back.

“Oh naw,” Kelly exclaimed, her eyes flicking between the two of you, “it’s startin’ t’get weird.  I don’t wanna hear that.  I’m fuckin’ out of here,” she announced, tipping back the rest of her beer and holding her hands up before sliding out of the booth.

“See ya, Kelly!” you called after her with a laugh.

“Yeah, you have a good night and I’m gunna go home and try t’forget I heard any of that.”

“Bye Kelly!” Nathan called after her cheekily, before turning his sights on Simon.

“Well, Barry--Simon,” he corrected, lifting his nearly empty bottle, “it’s been grand, but I have t’go home now and get laid.  Cheers!”

Simon awkwardly lifted his drink in return as Nathan downed the rest of his and turned to usher you out of the booth.

“Good night Simon!” you called, fighting back a laugh as you threaded your fingers loosely with Nathan’s, pulling him along behind you.

As you passed the bar, Nathan slowed, catching the bartender’s eye and grinned broadly, clearly gloating.  “Better luck next time,” he called and she folded her arms over her chest. 

“You’re a cocky shit, y’know that?” she called back and Nathan’s smirk only grew.

“Thank you!  My girlfriend quite likes that about me!”

Offering an apologetic smile, you managed to keep your laughter in until you were at least out the door.

——

By the time you got to the door of your flat, Nathan’s mouth was already on yours, pressing you insistently up against the outside of you door, his hands wandering and you fumbled with the keys, nearly dropping them as his tongue swiped impatiently against your lips.

“Nathan,” you gasped, managing to push him back slightly, met with a rather adorable pout.  “Maybe we should get inside first?” you suggested with a laugh.  When he didn’t move you cocked an eyebrow at him.  “You gunna shag me right out here in th’middle of the hall?” you asked cheekily.

Nathan looked thoughtful for a moment before reaching for the keys in your hand and fumbling with the lock.  “Temptin’ as that sounds, might not wanna chance it.  I don’t fancy the idea of getting another ASBO for public indecency.”

“So let’s be indecent in our own home,” you purred before the door clicked open behind you and Nathan’s mouth was back on yours as he awkwardly walked you backwards and kicked the door shut behind him.

Once inside, you toed off your shoes and tugged at Nathan’s flannel til he slipped it off and began unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans, while you continued to undress, losing your shirt and bra before sliding down your jeans and panties.

Once Nathan ripped his shirt over his head, the last of his clothes falling to the floor with the rest, you felt his eyes caress you hungrily and you led him further into the room, grabbing his hand and spinning him to push backwards onto the couch with a surprised grunt before crawling astride him.

His hands instantly found your backside, giving your ass a firm squeeze before traveling up to circle your waist as your tongues warred and twisted.

“Did you really mean what y’said about not being interested in that bird at the bar?” Nathan asked suddenly and you pulled back to take in his face.  Though he tried to hide the insecurity in his eyes you were too well versed in reading him by now and you smiled softly, wanting nothing more than to put him at ease and show him that you truly only wanted him.

“Course I meant it,” you murmured, tilting your head to trail several open mouthed kisses along his jaw, grinning against his skin as you felt him shiver beneath you, his grasp on your waist tightening.

“I’m a little surprised though,” you mused, pausing to nibble at his ear, his thick curls tickling your face.

“‘Bout what?” Nathan asked breathlessly, his words dissolving to a sharp hitch of breath as your teeth scraped skin.

“I was half expectin’ you t’try to organize a threesome or maybe one of those group orgies y’seem so interested in,” you teased, throwing his earlier line back at him and after a moment Nathan cleared his throat, his hands gripping your arms pulling you up short.

“Yeah, well, as hot as two girls makin’ out it is, I don’t really fancy the thought of sharin’ yeh.”

His words brought a grin to your face and you shifted your hips, teasingly grinding against him, leaving you both wanting more.

“Good, cause I’m not really into sharing either,” you whispered, relishing the dazed grin that lit up his face before you claimed his lips for a kiss, guiding him into you.

Leaning back to anchor your hands on his thighs, your first thrust drew him deeper and you smirked as you began to move, rolling your hips lazily as his gaze hungrily traveled up your body, so temptingly on display for him; his hands swiftly following, greedily claiming every inch of you as his until desperation clutched the pair of you and Nathan pulled you back to him, wanting to feel your skin against his.

Practically crushing you to him as he impatiently bucked into you, meeting each quickening thrust of your hips with his until your flat was filled with your breathless moans and gasps.  Nathan’s insistent lips swallowed your cries until you were a mindless writhing, rutting mess, chasing your climax head long off the precipice while Nathan held out longer, each wild thrust overstimulating you further until tears rolled down your cheeks and he quickly pulled out to come against his stomach.

Too tired and sated and way past caring about the mess — knowing you’d need a shower anyway, you collapsed against him, burying your face in his unruly dark curls you loved so much as he slowly wrapped his arms around your waist.

“You’re fuckin’ amazing, you know that?” he murmured against you, his words muffled so you barely heard him.

“You’re pretty great yourself, contrary to popular belief,” you replied, feeling him squeeze you tighter.

Waiting for the off hand self-deprecating comment that usually followed your compliments, none came, and taken aback you pulled back, just far enough to look into his eyes, to be met with a hesitant grin.

“You really think so?” Nathan asked softly, hopefully.

Pressing a kiss to his sweat dampened forehead you fixed him with an unwavering look.  “I really do,” you answered.  “Why d’you think I’m datin’ yeh, huh?” you teased, his grin widening.

“Now, maybe we should… clean up, because this is starting’ t’feel a tad bit gross,” you pointed out, wanting to at least wipe off your stomach where you’d been pressed against his “rapidly cooling spunk” as he’d once put it.

“Aw, c’mon, just admit you like it filthy,” Nathan exclaimed, releasing his hold on you so you could stand and help him up, waggling his eyebrows at you.

“If I admit t’that will you come take a shower with me so we can get filthy all over again?”

You didn’t have to ask him twice.

[abluescarfonwaston]

Shapeshifter Au 6

Heads up at the top this one is our “Last Wish Special”. It’s extra long and what should be no surprise to anyone- Jaskier does not have a good time! Please take care of yourselves as we move into plot territory.

Part 1   Part 5 Inspired by @spielzeugkaiser art here And Also now on Ao3 cause that’s probably easier for everyone.

Sometimes, when Geralt got hurt, he’d use his shapes against him.

Help was the word he’d use. To help him. But if Geralt preferred to think of him using his shapes against him then so be it.

“Get off me Jaskier.”

He looked down his snout at Geralt and grumbled his reply before returning to his composing. They would at very least wait until the bleeding stopped to ride back. Since Geralt insisted the injuries were not so grievous as to require proper attention.

He might very well have been right about that. Which meant they could afford to wait for it to stop before returning for the reward.

If Geralt wanted to treat his wounds then he’d let him. But he wasn’t going to let him ride off and make everything worse because he was a stubborn ass. That was Jaskier’s job. Being a stubborn ass. Not that he made a habit of being farm animals. The risk it would sour him to the taste of their meat was far too great. He refused to be vegetarian. Grass just did not taste very good. No matter what Roach claimed.

“Jaskier get off me or I will throw you off.”

He shifted more of his near 400 pound weight onto Geralt’s torso to demonstrate exactly what he thought about that.

“I can.” He growled.

He puffed up his fur telling him exactly what would happen if he tried.

He had bigger forms yet. If that’s how he wanted to play- well. He wouldn’t bet on Geralt winning. Witcher enhancements be damned.

Geralt, seemingly having realized this, ceased his struggling and ventured a new tactic.

Insulting him.

Which got him grumbling and growling at Geralt. But didn’t get him off him. Geralt knew well enough what he was saying. He didn’t need to transform to express his displeasure.

Geralt, a versatile and clever man, switch tactics yet again.

Reciting history facts but slightly wrong- the year was 1123 and he was a duke not a prince Geralt- asking questions about agriculture – cereal crops deplete the soil of nitrogen. Legumes fix this. A fallow field is left for weeds and grazing. The three fields are rotated. Together this system allows farmers to plant more crops and increase production. – and finally just asking him to play for him.

He, personally, admitted that his bear vocals left something to be desired but he didn’t let that stop him from belting out a few heavily modified versions of his favorite tunes.

Geralt covered his ears and glared at him.

It was only after three verses of Fishmonger’s daughter that he finally popped down into his human shape to do the finale justice.

Geralt shoved him off breaking his sustained note.

“Rude.” He squawked from the dirt as Geralt stood.

“I stopped bleeding three songs ago!” He growled at him.

“I’m well aware.” He grinned. “But I do so enjoy a captive audience.”

Geralt threw the bedroll at his head. Which did hit him. But he managed to catch it on the rebound, which counted as a win in his books.

“I don’t need you mothering me bard.”

“Is that what you think this is? I’m trying to keep Nenneke from murdering me next time you need her services. The woman terrifies me Geralt.”

She did. A little. Not in the way he suspected she expected to be feared though.

It was because her eyes always held too many questions about why he’d arrived before Geralt, knowing exactly the condition of the man’s wounds, even though he lacked a horse while Geralt road in on Roach.

He’d fly ahead, unhampered by the twisting of the roads, and set them to prepare for Geralt’s arrival. Or, when the situation was far graver, have them send a cart to meet him. Transforming on the road just outside of the temples view.

His skin itched when she stared at him too long. Like she almost knew what he was and if she watched him closely enough she might figure it out.

Luckily, “I mean the woman already hates me Geralt.” She was easy to annoy into not looking closely. “No need to worsen her to me by damaging the one reason she even tolerates my presence at the temple.”

If all she wanted to see was an airheaded flop of a bard that was all he would show her. Staying within the confines of expectations worked well enough to keep people from digging.

“She does hate you.” Geralt agreed with a smirk. Pleased he’d befriended someone Jaskier had not.

“Naaaah deep down she likes me.”

Geralt bobbed his head, half conceding the point.

People were complicated like that. She hated Most of him. But she liked that he cared about Geralt. Even if she didn’t always agree with how he cared about Geralt.

With how they cared for each other.

So maybe he shouldn’t have poked the insomniatic bear that was Geralt as he dredged up the lake at Rinde. But he was a bear often enough and he didn’t mind being poked. Sometimes Geralt needed to buck up and face his problems head on!

Then his throat started closing.

Which was scary. Sure. But there were plenty of forms that didn’t need his throat to breath. He’d play catfish or pike or bream or – he was just listing fish again- something while Geralt sorted out the curse the djinn smacked him with.

Except.

Except none of them would come.

He tried to shift bigger and his skin pulled too tight like it was yanking away from the muscle and he tried to shift down and his organs compressed in his chest. And he was left folded over in pain from his throat and his lungs and from being trapped.

Trapped in one form. Perhaps forever.

“Can you shift?” Geralt asked him, looking between him and Roach. Debating.

He managed a ragged sob that Geralt translated as the ‘no’ it was.

There was the bumpy ride on Roach- poor girl they weighed far too much together- and the elf with the painkillers – which helped a little. But the world continued its painful descent into darkness.

Geralt was scruffing him by the doublet. Dragging his limp form. Somewhere. He liked being scruffed. It reminded him of the old mouser in the kitchen who’d claimed him as kin when he was barely a boy. Whenever he got in trouble, or was lonely, or scared he’d just run to the old tom and pop down into a kitten. Instantly be scruffed and pulled under the cabinet for a bath and cuddle.

Scruffing meant that soon everything would be okay. He was in pain and terrified but soon. Soon everything would be alright.

 Everything was not alright.

There was a very scary woman with an amphora on her belly and-

And she was a mage.

A powerful mage.

Something in him was singing. Singing at her notice. Her attention.

He didn’t much like that part of him.

His knees near buckled under him as she gripped his nethers and pressed a knife to his throat.

“If you want to keep all you have familiar,” She squeezed him tighter. The singing and terror crescendo-ing in his ears. What do you want me to be? It sung, heart racing in his chest. “Make a damn wish.”

He reached. Reached for. Something. Some shape that would get her away. Small or big or cute or monsterous or something.

Her magic threw him to the floor and it crackled over his skin- she wants you to be human so that is what you shall be – lighting up every nerve with delicious power – do as she says. So that the powerful one might keep you – and burning the tapestry of thread he didn’t know was woven underneath his skin.

“Make your damn wish! Do it now!”

This one is better. Powerful. Be what she wants. “I don’t- I don’t know!” Lightning ran through his veins and fire blazed through his chest and- and- Be her’s. Wish to be hers. Exalted one.

He didn’t want that.

“I wish very much to leave this place forever!”

She turned from him, the burning fading. The singing loud in his ears. Scolding, screaming, begging him to go back to her as he scrambled from the building.

And Geralt was there.

Geralt was alive.

Geralt left him to that witch.

“Jaskier. You’re okay.”

“I’m glad to hear that you give a monkey’s about it.” He fumed.

The singing was quieter now. The smoldering in his chest easing next to Geralt-

Geralt was going back inside.

The building collapsing.

“She could not have survived it.” The elf from earlier- Chireadan- said.

There was coldness in the shape of the lightning flowing through his veins. Ashes in the stitching of his soul where Geralt once resided.

“Why did Geralt go in there? It doesn’t make any sense. What, to save a mad fucking witch?”

“Because she was magnificent.”

She was. The song wept.

His knees hit the ground, the pain of the gravel collision distant, over the shapeless void that pulled him to nothing.

“What am I supposed to do now, hm?” What would be left when this form collapsed into the emptiness in his chest? “It wasn’t supposed to go this way.”

You should have died with him.

No.

“I’m gonna write you. The best song. So that everyone remembers who you were, what we did, everything we saw.” There was a lifetime there. In the spaces they shared. Not a human lifespan perhaps. But it wasn’t like he was human anyway. “And I will sing it. For the rest of my days.”

“He always said I had the most wonderful singing voice.”

A joke. Between him and a dead man.

If he wanted to correct him he should have stayed alive.

Chireadan knelt before him, laying a hand on his shoulder. A tiny beat of comfort in a symphony of pain.

“They’re alive.”

They were very alive.

He ran his fingers down Roach’s neck, unsure how he was supposed to feel.

Relief that Geralt was alive? Jealously that he’d gone to Yennefer? Jealously she choose him over you?

Anger?

Joy?

Hollow. He felt hollow.

Roach nudged him.

He was nearly draped over her.

He wanted that old tom cat to scruff him and pull him under the cabinet. To lick and squish and purr him back to whole.

What would he be if he shifted now?

Nothing. It called to him that nothing.

Nothing wasn’t a shape. Nothing wasn’t Jaskier. Jaskier wasn’t nothing.

Still it called to him.

Roach lipped at a saddlebag. The one he’d nested in as his wing healed.

He shoved his bloody shirt in as a makeshift nest and fluttered in.

If Geralt wanted his peace he could dump him on the side of the road.

Until then. He breathed in the way the leather bag blended Roach and Geralt into itself and fell asleep.

 He drifted back to the shores of sleep welcomed by the gentlest smoothing of his feathers.

He readjusted, further nesting into the callouses of Geralt’s hand.

“I thought.” The pain in Geralt’s hesitating voice forced his eyes open. “That the djinn took your voice and your shifting from you.”

Geralt was laying down on their bedroll watching him with those big sad eyes. Which hurt.

But not as much as the fact Geralt had stopped petting him. He shifted into Geralt’s petting hand demanding he get back to work with a sharp chirp.

Geralt resumed his gentle stroking, lips twitching slightly upward. “So bossy.” He complained.

They laid there as the sun went down; quiet and exhausted.

“We used to do this a lot. When your wing was broken. It was nice.”

He softly trilled an agreement.

“I could smell you on Roach when I got back you know? I thought you had left. I understand if you’d left. After what I did.”

He blinked tiredly at Geralt before standing to shift up. He didn’t want to have this conversation now but if Geralt did then. Well then they’d have it now.

“Don’t.” Geralt’s hands shifted slightly, like they were caging him in. They weren’t. He knew he could get out. Knew that if he wanted to leave Geralt would let him.

He settled back into Geralt’s fingers, more than happy not to.

“Tonight. Can we be that again? Just for tonight.”

Be simple. Be easy.

Nenneke always scolded Geralt for thinking he could deny destiny. Because she cared about him and knew destiny would have her way, willingly or not. It would he agreed. Geralt couldn’t run away from her forever.

But he did help him run away from it. Sometimes. Like tonight?

Tonight destiny could go fuck itself.

Tonight they were just a bird and a man sharing each other’s company.

Tonight they were easy.