#sebastian fanfic

[yvng97]

The wayyy she slam him against the door…. It was giving omega!Bucky REAL BAD 🫦

[rinaxtaros]

[08] | RED.

Summary: You and Sebastian are left to scout out the circus.

— undercover (adjective) involving secret work within a community or organization, especially for the purposes of police investigation or espionage.

"Are you ready?" The tall frame of the red and yellow striped tents casts an ominous shadow over both you and Sebastian’s beings. The faint glow from the flickering candle lights scattered throughout the grassy fields provides a dim luminescence. You glance at the taller man, taking in his features. Somehow, the yellow-lighting which would always make a regular person look absolutely dreadful, makes Sebastian look more alluring.

You try not to linger on the thought too long, though.

"Let's not keep them waiting too long.” You grumble, falling into pace with Sebastian. The demon had wasted no time in your arrival, as he had almost immediately switched into his feeble past-butler role. His love for theatrics was the most human thing about his existence.

Ciel had sent you and Sebastian join first as to give the younger boy the upper hand when coming the next day. Ciel wasn’t too good at acting on the spot so in his words, he wanted to be “prepared in a manner that the Queen herself would appreciate.”

“Hurry now, [y/n].” Sebastian calls sensually, shooting you a smug look. You scoff, not realising how you had fell behind. Each step causes the heel of your shoe to melt into the softened soil, causing your journey to be less than satisfactory.

“Stupid shoes…” You murmer, pulling your feet from the ground in a less than elegant manner. Who do you have to impress here? Some foul human involved in the disappearance and probable murder of young children? Even as a demon you know these people are worth less than the disgusting muck coated against your heels.

The performance had put you in a positively sour mood. Sebastian’s love for felines clouded his judgement and he put his head and the tigers mouth. Dwelling over the situation continues to make it feel less and less real and more like you’ve pulled the story out of your ass. You’re sure Ciel would shout at you for telling him lies if you reported this back to him.

However, the little stunt has now landed you in the medical tent and behind the iron privacy bars. You’ve unfortunately come to terms with the fact that Sebastian’s stupid decision has allowed you to gain closer insight to the dynamics behind the scenes.

"You seem quite alright even though your man got bit by a tiger, ye?" The ginger ringleader, Joker, laughs as he observes the sour look on your face. Sebastian had been acting coy with Beast and the medic, claiming he was just too fascinated with big cats.

You look over at the man who was a little too close for your liking and size him up. His face paint was starting to fade, probably from the layer of sweat he produced running around the circus to calm the patrons.

You flick your hair over your shoulder as you look back at your companion for the night, "He likes the attention.”

Sebastian’s eyes remained close, which you’re sure is on purpose because the stupid expression pisses you off to no end. Ciel would be absolutely fuming if Sebastian had pulled that stunt while he was here, so you know he’s aware how stupid it was.

In between conversations, the busty tiger tamer you now know as the stage name Beast had promptly beelined towards the busy doctor. She was complaining about her prosthetic leg and how it was starting to lock up on her. Sebastian was quick to ask a few questions as prosthetics aren’t an openly common practice within your part of England.

You ignore how Joker burns holes into your body. He was unabashedly checking you out, but you paid no mind. You understand his questionable approach to your identity seeing as your clothes aren’t far off from your normal attire. Joker observes how maid-like your dress is but you surprisingly didn't dawn any of the usual frilly material or awfully tacky headband. The rest of the crew recognise how connected you and Sebastian seem to be seeing as you two seem to have silent conversations with each other just by looking at each other. To them, however, you look like a pair.

Sebastian had maneauvered himself beside Beast who perched herself onto the desk in front of the doctor. He was quick and no one within the tent had realised what Sebastian was doing before he lifted the girls leg and subsequently exposed her panties to everyone looking at the two.

A pregnant pause falls over the tent. You watch, eyes darting between every member of the circus.

One beat, two beat, thr—

Swiftly, you’ve placed yourself to the side of the commotion. Before anyone could blink, Beast screams and grasps her whip. Joker and the chirpy blonde one are crying out for the commotion to stop just as quickly as it’s started. However, in the middle of the chaos, Sebastian smiles.

Truthfully, it is quite amusing to watch Sebastian barely break a sweat when avoiding the onslaught attack.

All fun must come to an end, though.

"I'm afraid we must get going now." Your hand grabs the whip as it flies out in front of you. No one had noticed the your quick manoeuvre across the room until you placed yourself in the middle of the chaos. Beast stutters to find the right words as her whip is pulled out of her hands and dropped to the dirt floor with a dulled thud.

Sebastian waves his free hand as a goodbye gesture as you’re currently grabbing the sleeve of his other hand.

Sebastian follows without much of a fight, but he mumbles something as Joker comes running after you both. Surprisingly, he’s able to keep up with your fast-paced walk.

"Hey! Wait a minute, won't ya?" He asks hopefully, extending a hand "Those are some gymnastics you have there lad, and you can move fast lass!”

Sebastian places a gentle hand over your own. You freeze, staring at him. The fist you created on his blazer unclenches and falls to your side.

"I would offer you a place but-"

"Oh, really, you're not having a jest?" Sebastian smiles kindly "I am getting quite sick of my current master...” Sebastian pauses, looking back at you with a devious smile.

You furrow your brows, that good for nothing is up to something!

“My partner too." Sebastian lifts his hand to smooth down your hair. Your words get caught in your mouth as you realise what stunt he is now pulling. You try your best to smile through the irritation as you know Sebastian is enjoying the whole act.

Joker smiles brightly "Great! We'll have auditions tomorrow!"

Sebastian bows "You don't mind if I bring a friend along?" Joker shakes his head "If he's half as good as you I'm sure he'll do well!"

"I'm sure he will.” You add, cutting off the conversation. As much as you could care less about the conversation you just wanted to cut Sebastian’s fun off quicker. Knowing your luck, he was going to start holding your hand.

Ugh.

“Your behaviour was reckless, Sebastian.” You scold Sebastian as you mindlessly walk back to the Phantomhive manor. Your footsteps fall in sync, each crunch, snap and step sounding simultaneously. A pregnant silence falls between both you and Sebastian. The sound of the night surrounds you as the sounds of the wildlife settle in the bushes encasing the pathways.

“Reckless? How so?” Sebastian humours as he continues to walk, unfazed by your annoyance. You clicks your tongue and your roll your eyes as you glance at Sebastian. Of course he has that cocky smile on his face.

”You got your head stuck in the tigers jaw, then you had to go and reveal Beast to her team.” Sebastian muffles a laugh, eyes flicking leisurely to his right to look down at you. You stare back with frustration glazed over your pupils. 

Sebastian laughs as he realises you won’t step down from the petty argument.

“It was just an accident, love.” He smiles, “You aren’t jealous are you, sin of Lust?” He teases as he raises his gloved hand grasp your chin, effectively stopping the two from walking and you from turning away. Automatically, you turn your body to get a better look at the flirtatious demon, hardening your gaze as you grasp at the hand on your chin. You try to push it away but his grips on stronger. His tongue flicks out to wet his lip, lowering his head to close the gap between them. He enjoys watching you struggle.

”Don’t flirt with me, Michaelis.” You spit, “A typical man, aren’t you? Using sexual advances to get out of an argument.” You take the chance to plant your hands against his chest and push. Sebastian falls back a few steps, spluttering.

“I am not jealous.”

With that, you turn on your heel and begin to walk away; leaving Sebastian in the dark of the night.

As Sebastian stands in the dark and watched your figure disappear into the night sky, he decides that he quite likes this dynamic.

[marketfreshfics]

Love is a... | Sebastian x MC

Header image (Sebastian): @starrysallow ✦ 5,439 words ✦ NSFW content (MDNI) ✦ unnamed female MC (no use of y/n), estranged friends to lovers, mild physical confrontation, some angst, oral, masturbation, p in v, tw: choking ✦ Inspired by "Love is A..." - PVRIS ✦ Read it below the cut or on AO3

Events following catastrophe were called fallout for a reason. Oftentimes it wasn’t the disaster itself, but the particles of pain that amassed the body counts, thrown to the heavens and scattered. What goes up, must always come down.

After killing Solomon and being pardoned outside of a court of magical law, based on friendship and honesty at the decision of his closest two friends, Sebastian was never the same. He stopped regular class attendance, prioritized unhealthy friendships, and frequented the restricted section even more. 

She worried, constantly, but each attempt to reconnect and rekindle had been dodged and ignored. Her poor owl probably thought her a right lunatic with the amount of return post that accumulated next to her bedside.

It was as if he breathed in strands of that wretched Killing Curse, and his former self was another casualty of that day. 

Distance was the only solution, and weeks bled to months, then years. Hostilities were built, grudges cemented, and relationships wedged. A lifelong friendship built on mutual trust, obliterated by all counts without salvage. 

It hurt her heart, to say the least. Even Ominis insisted on prioritizing Sebastian’s company, solely out of self-flagellating guilt in believing he could have, somehow, prevented all of this. Now, he felt like it was the best means of maintaining Sebastian’s composure, of averting further tragedy. Eventually, the infrequent study sessions and conversations in the Slytherin common room became a thing of the past. The Undercroft’s clockface locking mechanism collected cobwebs, of time lost and friendships standing still. 

She withdrew; the end of her seventh year approached and she was consumed by the quiet, by research, by exams. By any and all distractions that held her focus long enough to neglect her feelings. 

Until one sleepless evening, as she passed the time in the Slytherin common room, tracing shapes in the condensation on the windows looking out into the Black Lake. The sound of footfalls and deep snickers bit her focus and induced an automatic eye-roll, the tells of men being up to no good. She turned her back to the stairwell, opting out of asking what they were up to at one-thirty in the morning.

Nothing great from the sounds of it. The group halted at the bottom of the stairs, whispered amongst themselves, and let out hushed sounds of approval. And then, the last voice she wanted to hear in the middle of the night beckoned her attention.

“Hello.”

Fucks sake, she thought, hearing Sebastian’s unfortunately familiar tone. His cronies chuckled, and worry started to spread uncomfortably in her chest.

“Leave her be, Sebastian.” 

Relief cooled her blood as Ominis chided his best friend. Nothing wary would occur if he was in their company, that was certain; the heir of Slytherin had a quiet but firm reputation that fellow housemates were keen to avoid fucking around near. She turned, and swallowed hard.

Sebastian was a ghost of his former self, having filled out the straight-up-and-down form of his early teenage years. His black button-down could have used a proper resizing, taut at the biceps, the slightest hint of his undershirt peeking through the first buttonhole. Had they maintained a proper friendship still, she might have found him rather fetching. 

But that was off the table entirely, their friendship long past expiration, the unanswered letters like an obituary in itself.

Sebastian crossed the central chamber of the common room, walking with the subtle saunter of liquid courage and bad influence, smirking with a glassy haze in his eyes. 

He stood far too close to her. “I said, hello.” Terse, unyielding. The firewhisky on his breath branded her cheeks, and at this proximity, she was painfully aware of how much taller than her he’d grown. His little band of brothers hung back much to her relief; Ominis stood between them and the tower of darkness, the only one of them with some decorum (and sobriety)

“What do you want?” She muttered, fists balled at her sides to hide their tremble.

Sebastian feigned a hurt expression but it immediately dissolved, replaced with a terrible implication in his grin. “You.”

His audience chortled, save for Ominis, who seemed to be carefully attuned to whatever Sebastian was about to say next. 

She ignored his forward attempt, cursing herself inwardly for how excited it made her feel. “What happened to you?” She wasn't looking for an answer, at least not immediately. She would have preferred he give it some thought, then approach her the next morning with an explanation (and, perhaps, an apology). “What’s wrong with you? Ever since you-”

Chagrined by her prying question, he reacted abruptly, grabbing her by the throat and pushing her back hard against the window.

His friends seemed perturbed by the action, immediately noping out of any involvement and backing out of the room for what they believed was yet to come. Ominis however took a step towards Sebastian, his wand raised, pulsing red. “Release her, Sebastian.” There was an exercised firmness in his voice as if he’d done this before. She wasn't the least bit surprised. 

What was surprising, however, was her arousal. For his hand to be large enough to cup her throat just right, she thought it unfair. His eyes commanded her gaze, nostrils flared and breath hissed over snarled lips. His words bore grit, and punctuation pronounced. “Watch. your. mouth.”

It was no suggestion, about as much room for argument as was left in her airways for oxygen to travel to and from; next to none. Her jugular pounded against the web of his thumb, and his eyelids fluttered, pupils contracting in the earth of his eyes. 

He knew. He bloody well knew how she was reacting, he had to. It shredded her innocence then, flayed it on the rack and flung her into a pit that the bastard dug himself. 

Sebastian’s lip twitched, the corner tugging upwards into a smirk. Fuck him, she thought before speaking her mind, an emphatically sharp remark cutting a web of spit that landed on his chin. It only broadened his grin, as he wiped it away with his middle finger before swiping it with his tongue.

Her sympathies were with Ominis who had to endure this display of power and obstinate threats. “You’re reprehensible, Sebastian!” he warned as a firm hand clapped his shoulder. “Leave her be. She’s gone through enough already without your mistreatments.”

But she didn't want him to leave her be. She wanted him to mistreat her even more, and leave nothing left.

Mercy was given as Sebastian released her, wringing his hand. He narrowed his eyes as she ran off towards the spiral staircase, leaving before Ominis could provide consolation. Only once she was safely out of eye and earshot did she suck in a breath. She winced, a sting of soreness at her swallow, coughing to clear her stuck esophagus.

But that wasn’t what she fixated on. Instead of fear, she felt curiosity. Instead of warnings heeded, she draped his red flags over her shoulders like expensive silks. 

Deceived into tasting forbidden fruit by a fucking snake. She could have laughed if she weren’t so fixated on the abject deploracy of it all. Every detail was ingrained in memory, down to the searing heat exhaled from his nostrils, fanning her décolletage, his inferno blazing.

And still, tears sprung to her eyes as she ran to the only spot she considered would provide some quiet reprieve…

And somewhere she could moan freely without an audience.

Thankfully the greenhouse was left unlocked, most likely by a fifth-year tasked with watering the dirigible plums after dinner and forgot to lock up. She stepped into the classroom, the humidity warmer than the cold dampness of the Slytherin dungeons, and she found a quiet corner to scoot on her bottom out of sight.

Despicable as it was, her digits committed treason and slipped under the waistband of her pajamas, sinning herself, confessing to those immoralities to please with her pleas. Her eyes wrenched shut in concentration as she drew upon her new little devious spank bank, every reaction cycling on a loop as her wrist bones cracked quietly in her panties with the fervour of her ministrations. And as close as she managed to get herself, with the image of Sebastian tattooed on tight eyelids, she almost cursed out loud when the latch on the greenhouse door clicked with movement.

She wasn't alone anymore.

She might have anticipated Ominis following her in hopes of apologizing on his behalf, but she never would have expected Sebastian to be the one stepping into the greenhouse, not after what transpired minutes ago. Perhaps Ominis talked some sense and ordered him to reconcile in person.

He leaned against the door, his hands in his pockets. “I can see you,” He said quietly, gesturing to her slippers poking out of the shadows. “What are you doing over there? Please, can you come out a moment?”

“Or what?” She replied, still trying to steady her breath, the combination of running and masturbating making it draw shallow. “You going to strangle me again if I don't?”

He exhaled, and… pleaded? “Promise I won't. That… I was out of line. You didn't deserve a moment of that treatment, not ever.”

She frowned, not expecting this change of pace whatsoever. She pushed herself up to stand, quickly wiping her fingers on the inside of her t-shirt, shuffling closer to him while maintaining adequate distance. With the enchanted heat lanterns angled at the massive venomous tentacula nearby, his face was washed with a glow that gave him a false sense of innocence. Her heart ached as she looked attentively at her former best friend for more than she had in over a year. “Sebastian,” she began, crossing her arms. “Can we talk about this in the morning? You’re drunk.”

“Not anymore,” he replied. “Ominis gave me a rather sobering talk.”

“Still.”

He sighed. “Please… we’ve gone too long without hashing this out. There’s a lot I need to say, and I’m certain the same rings true for you as well, no?”

She nodded, chewing her lip. It took several heavy seconds for him to continue, weighed down by the breadth of time spent apart. “I want to start by apologizing for how I threatened you this evening. I had a few drinks, and I wasn’t thinking clearly.” Even though it sounded like he was reading from a rehearsed script, his expression was genuine. “It wasn't right to scare you that way.”

If you only knew, she thought, but she wasn’t about to give him the benefit of the doubt. She looked down and focused on the small hole in the toe of her slipper. “It’s fine,” she replied, nodding. “No. I’m alright. Thank you for checking on me.”

Truth be told, she just wanted him to wrap it up so she could rub one out already. She couldn’t think of anything but his hand on her throat, and it was giving her a fuckton of bad ideas. When she looked up again he was eyeing her curiously, and the hint of narrowness in his gaze made her bottom lip tuck between her teeth.

“What were you doing here before I arrived?” 

She wondered, at that moment, if he’d spent his free time studying legilimency. Her nonchalance did not convince him. The tells were there: flushed face, rumpled pajamas, the drawstring tucked into her waistband. Still, she didn’t want him to know that she was fingerfucking herself before his surprise appearance; Merlin knows what that would do for his ego. She played it off. “Just checking the growth progress on my mallowsweet.” 

“You’re still a piss poor liar.” He huffed, though a shadow of a genuine smile made an appearance as he clasped his hands in front of him. He studied her, stepping closer. “I’ll need to be honest with you now, but I only ask that you be honest with me in return.” 

“You weren’t before?” She raised an eyebrow.

“What? No, yes—- I was being honest there, truly.” He was tripping over words, evidently still feeling some of the alcohol in his system. “I won’t lie to you, promise.” 

After consideration, she nodded. “Okay, what is it?” I’m probably going to regret this, she thought, leaning against a crate of potting soil. 

Sebastian’s expression was thoughtful, the space between his brows creased. It appeared as though he were trying to choose the proper words. “Over the past couple of years, we’ve… well, I haven’t been myself.” The halfhearted scoff from her was not lost on him, but he continued. “Ever since, you know… that, happened, I’ve experienced these disturbing feelings, impulses that make me want to do terrible things. I don't know how to describe them, but they’re not inherently good. Ominis believes I’m dealing with guilt, but it’s not so simple. It’s not that direct.”

His quiet intensity doubled down then, and he looked at her. “I’ve wanted to… to hurt you.” His voice softened as he said your name. “I’ve thought of unimaginable things, truly awful acts that made me consider my very sanity. Things that you would never deserve in a thousand years. And they aren't just passing through.” The words seemed to leave a foul taste on his tongue. “They stick around. No one knows about it, because how could I admit such a thing? Even now I’m trying to cast them out. I don't know if it’s some kind of repressed anger that you decided against turning me in, forcing me to live with the consequences of my actions without trial…”

He shook his head. “Sorry, I’m prattling. I just want you to know, this is the reason I’ve been so… distant, with you. It ate me up inside to stay away and it wasn't fair to you without an explanation, but I couldn't trust myself. Even now, or earlier I mean… I don’t know if these thoughts will go away entirely.” Shame settled into his features. “Still, I miss you. I have missed you, and I miss our friendship. I miss…” 

Sebastian blinked for a moment, and before she could interject he was standing right in front of her, hands on the crate behind her. She was locked in, his strong arms a barrier from freedom, but she wasn't about to attempt escape. To do so would mean she couldn't experience him this close, this intense. He towered over her, swallowing, Adam's apple bobbing. “I miss what could have been. Please, be honest with me…” He took her hand then, dwarfing hers. It made her chest tight as he murmured, and the heart was apparent in his words. “Even knowing what I’ve shared, knowing fully well that I want to fight these feelings for you, would you ever… even want, to be friends again?”

Her mouth fell open slightly, the wind out of her sails. The divisiveness in her was tumultuous, warring between slapping him across the face and shouting profanely for the blind selfishness. True that there was deep anger in her heart, but there was also a void that ran deep, a cut that never healed. She looked up at him, let out a sigh, and wrapped her arms around his torso, her face in his chest.

Sebastian was caught off guard, his inhale caught in his windpipe, but he didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around her in return. He held her so tightly she winced, letting out a small groan, but she didn't shy away, hugging him with equal enthusiasm as they swayed with the shared experience of reconnecting a missing piece after far too long. 

“Can you tell me when those thoughts are too much to ignore?” She asked after several seconds, looking up at him, ignoring the heartbeat that skipped attendance as a result. “I don’t want you to leave me again. That… that was the hardest thing to go through. I mean, we did everything together, and then to just, suddenly not…” She sighed. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

His brow furrowed. “Still relentlessly selfless, I see.” He smiled, and when he breathed she was relieved to find his breath no longer carried the smell of firewhisky, instead just purely him. “I swear to you, I’ll never put you in danger ever again. If I need to talk to someone or, I don't know, distract myself. I’d sooner fling myself from the astronomy tower than knowingly cause you harm.”

She nodded, but her mind was ping-ponging an idea around that made her reconsider her sanity. Rationality missed roll call and so when she looked up at Sebastian, when the rest of the world vignetted around him, the kiss happened all on its own. 

And he was just as eager, holding her body close as he consumed in a heat that scalded her resolve. Those fucking hands of his knew precisely where to hold her, where to pull, an indication that he’d imagined this before into his fist under bedsheets. She moaned with a tender kind of tact, fingers laced in his hair, practically pulling him into her petite form.

He parted to catch his breath moments later, cheeks and nose ruddy with blood flush. “This is okay?” His eyes flickered about her face, honing in on any evidence of disagreement in her expression. “I promise I won’t be rough with you, I--”

“Sebastian,” She murmured, tracing his clavicle as she spoke. Time to come clean. With any luck, he wouldn't be horrified of her. “I… I liked it… when you choked me.”

Brown eyes blinked, and she could practically see the cogs in his head struggle to make a full rotation around her admission. “You… you enjoyed that? But--”

“I loved it.” 

His lips parted then, and she saw a new look in his eyes. Perhaps this was what he sought to keep buried from her and yet here she was, laying in the very mound of dirt he turned up. 

So much is communicated in their gaze. His expression changes, and the paradigm shifts. “Yeah?” His voice has a hint of heat, a sample of what is to come, and the way he comes to terms with this burned slowly in her belly. “You like rough stuff?”

Her face flamed. “I-I never knew… But when you…”

The thought clicked then, and he tilted his head. “…what did you say you were doing in here, again?” 

“…I didn’t.” 

A slow smirk of understanding spread and remained in place, even as his lips crashed into hers. He kissed her with more insistence this time, harder, more ragged breaths than taking her breath away. Sebastian leaned into it, teasing her with his words. “What a little imp you are, scurrying off to rub one out. I’m surprised you didn’t go to your dormitory, where I wouldn’t be able to find you, left to your own devices…”

She gasped as those tactile fucking hands of his settled at her hips, fisting the waistband of her pajamas so hard the woven texture and seams of the fabric left indentations on his palms. Her hands were put to good use then as well, attempting to unbutton his shirt without breaking their kiss, a feat in itself considering how little thought was in her brain regarding anything that wasn’t connected to his body. Sebastian resumed his little wordplay while she untucked his shirt from his trousers. “Someone’s eager, aren’t we?”

“Shut up,” she muttered, and he chuckled while swatting her hands away from his nearly open shirt, grabbing and hoisting her to sit on the crate. Her legs snapped open immediately and Sebastian let out the most beautiful breathy groan, leaning into her as his lips descended the column of her neck. The humidity of the greenhouse gathered a whisper of perspiration along their brows, but the heat between them was something else entirely. Finally undoing his shirt in her conquest, it fell from his shoulders and she couldn’t help but drink him in. “Sebastian, you’re…”

He seemed a touch vulnerable at that moment, but it faded lightning fast as he grabbed the hem of his undershirt and pulled it over his head.

Her brain was rendered a useless mound of matter as she ran her hands over his defined chest, her eyes darting to the enticing trail of hair that disappeared into his trousers. 

“Fuck,” she breathed, and her intrigue spurred him on, fed the deviant within. His hand slid up her torso, deliberately over a braless breast, settling to hold her throat. The other, however, buried between her legs and cupped her mound from over her pajamas. 

The sound she made was positively primal, and she crushed her bottom lip between her teeth as he applied pressure, rubbing his fingers in devastatingly slow circles that made her hips buck. He leaned in close to her ear as she whimpered, nipping a lobe. “That's my girl… sing for me.” 

So she did, letting the moans out freely as he tightened his grip on her neck. Her back arched as his thumb pressed into the side of her throat, and the sensation made her acutely aware of her heartbeat. It throbbed in her head and her sex, her mouth agape as his dark eyes watched her reactions, and the wicked grin he gave her pronounced his excitement. “You like that?” He asked, voice hoarse and low, laden with lust. “You like how I touch you like this?”

She nodded eagerly, trying to control the friction between her legs with more measured motions, and he obliged with enough pressure that her wetness began to wick through the fabric, ample and abundant. “Merlin, you’re already so wet for me.” The way he spoke to her was nothing short of sinful, his voice reaching a lower pitch she’d never heard before. He sped up, letting her rock into his palm as he varied the pressure on her carotid. She could come just like this, pathetic and whining and without having taken any clothing off yet. 

Sebastian seemed intent on making sure she did just that. He leaned down to mouth a nipple from over her thin t-shirt, pulling another beautiful sound of pleasure from her mouth. The cotton wet with his lips around her pebbled peak and it throttled her impending orgasm. Her moans ascended in pitch, and just as she came the hand on her throat loosened. Her climax rocketed through her then, echoing sharply off the glass panels of the greenhouse, and if anyone were in the immediate proximity they would surely know it wasn't the sound of a mandrake that wriggled loose from its pot. Thighs spasming and tight to his sides, she rode out her release against his hand, the soaked crotch of her pajamas goading him on. 

His mouth disconnected from her, capturing her lips in an almost desperate kiss, despite the confidence in his tone. “You’re beautiful when you come for me,” Sebastian purred, and he finally pulled off her shirt, baring her chest. His quiet exhale signaled his enjoyment. “Fuck, look at you…”

“You like what you see?” She found her voice mingled with a new sense of boldness as she palmed her breasts for him, giving him a rightful show. Sebastian uttered an expletive to voice his approval and eagerly claimed her lips in a breathtaking kiss as he undid his belt. 

“God, yes,” his response was airy and rough. “Look what you do to me…”

And look she did, as he untucked himself from his underwear, practically twitching with the reflex of his abs clenching, his cock so hard it could crush diamonds to dust. She bit her bottom lip as he palmed his member, a groan born deep in his chest as she scooted off the crate and sunk to her knees in front of him, the cobblestone floor biting her joints. His cock bobbed at the most beautiful fucking sight he ever saw, and with an eager grasp at his base, she took the tip past her lips.

Sebastian’s head lulled back as he let out a quiet “unh,” drawn out once she slid the rest of his length into her mouth. She took his wrists then, bringing them behind her head, and his body knew precisely what to do as his fingers combed through her hair. With an abrupt thrust, he pushed deep into her eager mouth, and the moan that vibrated around his girth was all the encouragement he needed to repeat the motion. He imparted a slow, but intense pace, and she kept up with a slacked jaw and willing tongue. His cock glistened as it slid past her lips, a delicious mix of her saliva and his precum dribbling down her chin as she let him fuck her pretty mouth. The tip hammered the back of her throat and the sound she made to suppress her gag reflex stirred something in his chest, as if the nature of his ability to determine true love had some dirty little kinks of its own. 

Then again, looking down into her eyes, gone glassy with the effort of her fellation, he had to wonder. 

She didn't offer much room for second thoughts as she bobbed forward, taking him to the very base and then some, her nose pressed into the tufts of hair at his pubic bone. He held her there as she swallowed around his cock, her throat clenched as she sucked hard. With her airways constricted her breath was caught with nowhere to go and she properly choked, her face going red. Sebastian had never experienced something this intense, and he panted with balled fists in her hair to pull tightly. 

His hips snapped, withdrawing from her mouth as she sucked in a breath, so quickly that she coughed from the rush of air. “While I’d love to keep fucking your mouth,” he grinned, and she swore she saw the devil himself, “I need you to come around my cock while I choke that pretty little throat of yours.”

His words were music to her ears. She obliged, and he pulled her up by the hair to stand again, attacking her lips, all teeth and tongues. His fingernails scratched her hips as he wrenched her pajama bottoms down, her panties joining them at her ankles before he lifted her onto the crate again. The wood scraped her bottom but she had no room to protest as his cock commanded her attention, dragging deliciously between her puffy folds. “Sebastian, please,” she mewled almost pathetically, angling her hips in hopes of slipping him in on her own. 

“Oh sweetheart,” he sighed softly, “you’re so wet…”

An unexpected moment of tenderness claimed his senses then and he looked up, their gazes meeting, hearts swelling. He cupped her cheek, swiping a spot of spit from her chin as he leaned in to kiss her with a softness that he wasn't accustomed to. For all the pain he’d known, for all the darkness that stained his being, she was the safe space to embrace. 

And he dare not let go of her. Not again. Not ever.

Her name fell from his lips as he slid inside of her. She hissed quietly as she acclimated to his length, testing his girth with a tightness that sent shivers up her spine. He rolled his hips, and she faced the heavens.

Sebastian was an intense lover, she discovered, his forehead pressed to hers as he fucked her deep, rocking on her ass with his eager motions. She was keen to contribute, her legs pretzeled around his waist, hands gripping his biceps for support, holding on for the ride of her life. Her plush warmth enveloped his cock, a silken heat that pulled him in. Their pace was perfection, enough to build their pleasure without losing traction. 

“Mm, here.” He scooped her up at the bottom, carrying her effortlessly to a nearby workstation, gesturing her to lay her back on the desktop. “I wanna see all of you…”

He grabbed her hips with an almost bruising firmness and continued to fuck her on the workstation, watching his cock pump in and out of her, and she realized with a soft chuckle why he’d chosen this specific desk. No doubt this was a slight dig at her previous crush during their third year, Leander fucking Prewett, when Sebastian had caught them snogging outside the entrance to their common room. He’d teased her relentlessly for it, and now she had half a mind to wonder if it was a little crush of his own developing back then. His wicked grin implied they were on the same page. “You little shit,” she chuckled, but it cut off as he slammed inside, pulling an especially loud moan from her. No room for Gryffindor thoughts in this snake pit. 

Sebastian’s gaze darkened with lust, his hair tousled along his forehead. One of those perfect hands claimed her throat as he shrouded her. “Yes,” she rasped, and he clasped firmly, squeezing precisely where he had to to get her heart thundering through her temples. She realized then, as her pulse became dangerously loud behind her ears, that he was timing his thrusts to her heartbeat. Her back arched with the increased pace, a symphony of gargled moans singing his praises as she quickly ascended the peak of an approaching climax. “Sebastian, I’m—I’m close…”

“I know,” he replied, unyielding in his motions. The edges of her vision greyed, and before she could protest the impending blackout, he eased his grip. At the precise moment that oxygenated blood returned to her brain, she came hard around his cock, hollering his name as she convulsed on the desk. Sebastian didn't stop, however, chasing the tails of his release with reckless abandon, hips pistoning so hard the table jostled and scraped against the floor. When he did come he punctuated it with a growled expletive, holding his hips flush to hers as her spent, quivering sex milked him for all he could give. 

He collapsed onto her chest, kissing her sternum between shallow breaths. “You felt so, so good,” he whispered, craning his neck to offer breathless kisses as she cradled his head adoringly. She gestured to sit upright and he pulled out, sooner than he’d wanted, but he could tell by her soft groan that the firm surface had to be brutal on her spine. 

Instead, she held him, melting into another appreciative kiss. “As did you. That was… I never knew it could feel like that.”

Sebastian chuckled, nosing her cheek with affection. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have left you alone after all.”

Her smile faltered, and he caught the echo of pain behind her eyes. “Sorry, I… I should have talked to you about this sooner. I was wrong to have shut you out this way. I was only trying to ensure your safety.” His thumb brushed her bottom lip. “I’ll make it up to you, for lost time.”

“You better,” she grinned again, this time with fondness as she brushed the bangs back from his forehead. “And, maybe… we can keep exploring these new enjoyments together. Perhaps by letting you indulge in some rougher activities, it will help.”

Sebastian nodded slowly. “You’d want to do that for me?”

“Of course I would,” She replied without hesitation. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t offer my assistance?”

A strong brow raised at that, and he smirked. “Oh, is this currently what you would define as friend behaviour between us?” he gestured to their naked forms, flushed pink with post-sex afterglow, glistening with a sheen of sweat. “Merlin, you’ve become awfully chummy.”

She rolled her eyes, thanking him wordlessly as he helped put her shirt back on before retrieving his own. “So you’re assuming I’m you’re girlfriend now or something?”

“Will you?” 

She caught it; fleeting, but there nevertheless, a fond expression that brought back memories of his younger years, a boyish charm that captured her heart long ago. Her Sebastian was still living, hidden beneath layers of tarnish and grime, but certainly there, and she would polish him back to his original splendour and shine. She nodded, and they made plans to meet again sooner rather than later because later was an awful prospect in this touching moment of reunion.

She left the greenhouse with his hand in hers, a changed woman, gladly leaving the bodies of their former selves on the floor, all akimbo and forgotten, a distraction for the pain of the past to feast upon, releasing them from the confines of their creation.

Love is a murder, after all.

[hollowwrites]

I think you are a wonderful writer! You're slight dips into the spicy side of fics were a good showcase of what could come :)

So i know you just gave us the protective posse. And protective omi around others vying for her attention but what about both of our slytherin bois being protective. She got a lot of attention after fifth year, and being so close to those two. I feel like she's got her hands full.

I love you!! Feeling really crap about my writing as of late but little comments like this really help me! Thank you!! 💕

Medusa’s Vipers

I have the weirdest need for the boys to be protective lately. Send help. I would constantly put myself in danger if it meant these bois were there to help me.

I’m naming the Slytherin bully guy from beasts class Daniel because it makes writing easier and also everyone knew a Daniel who was a bit of a bully. Unless anyone knows his name in which case please tell me!

Also I’m including a made up spell. Don’t hate me!! It’s like Muffliato but for eyesight so Ocliato? I thought it was cute…

Warning - I mention some implied sexual assault. Nothing too graphic but just in case. I’ll section it off with ——————— mentions of blood too.

Word Count - 1689

~

“See you later boys” Eve chirped, her hand lingering on Ominis’ shoulder for just a second before waving to Sebastian. She skipped over to Poppy and Imelda who waited at the end of the Slytherin Table for her before they all left for their monthly ‘Girls Night’

“Tsk, she really does have you wrapped around her little finger doesn’t she?” The uppity Slytherin boy sneered. No one really knew what his problem was, but he seemed to pick fights with everyone who fell into his line of sight. Ominis sighed.

Wonderful

They ignored his taunts, well aware that if they bite, he’s won.

“Or is it the other way around? Is she wrapped around yours? Do you share her or-“

“Watch it, Daniel” Sebastian spat

“Don’t…he’s not worth it. Not worth anything from what I’ve heard. How’s your fathers business again?” Ominis said casually, leaning on his palm. The boy gulped. How does he know about that?

“She’s wasted on you, you know?” Daniel turned his nose up, firing towards the Blind Slytherin. “Someone so pretty shouldn’t be pining over someone who can’t even appreciate her beauty” Ominis’ jaw visibly tensed. He couldn’t hide that not being able to ever see her pained him.

“You know…” Daniel shuffled his chair along the floor sending ear piercing screeches as the legs scraped against stone “…she has this wonderful little trick she does with her mouth. Whenever she’s concentrating really hard…she’ll nibble along the end of her pencil…”

Ominis took in a deep calming breath…not that it did anything…

“…I bet you can hear it…” He whispered directly into Ominis’ ear. His fingers tightened around his wand under the table. Sebastian’s eyes flickered over the visage of his best friend. His usual calm and collected appearance cracked slightly, the narrowing of Ominis’ one eye the only indication he was about to snap.

“And I bet you’ve seen it, Sallow” Daniel continued on chipper as anything, as though he were discussing the latest quidditch happenings.

“Ignore him” Sebastian said, though was content to ignore his own advice. “He’s just bitter the only company he can seem to keep is Astoria…how is that Rancid Ravenclaw anyway?”

“Shut it, Sallow. If we’re talking bitter, then you’re it’s poster child. Don’t think I didn’t notice her sudden shift from you to Ominis” he leaned back in his chair folding his arms across his chest “What’s it like playing second fiddle to your blind best friend?”

“And I suppose you think you stand a chance with her?” Sebastian snorted “Please…that gippy Mooncalf Howin keeps has better odds”

“Well she does seem to be a bit of a slut for Slytherins…”

“What did you just say?” Sebastian rose from his chair looming over the now smug Slytherin.

“First you, then Ominis, now she’s off dallying with Reyes. Maybe I just remind her what house I’m in and she won’t be able to keep her hands off me.” Daniel also rose from his chair and before Sebastian took another step toward him, Ominis gripped his wrist yanking him back down.

Sebastian looked over at Ominis. He could tell for the twisted smile on his face that Ominis was gone…

“Ocliato”

Daniels smug features fell away as his eyes darted around desperately. He stumbled backwards and tripped over his chair landing in it with a started yelp.

“W-What did you do?”

“Oh me? I just thought I’d even the playing field” Ominis murmured, twisting the tip of his wand into his hand playfully “Why don’t you show me how it’s done then Daniel? Just try and talk to her and see what happens…Maybe I won’t stop with just taking your sight…”

~

“You should’ve let me hit him?” Sebastian sulked pacing in front of one of the large fireplaces in the Slytherin Common Room.

“What would’ve been the point?” Ominis retorted sitting back lazily against the large comfortable chairs. The incident with Daniel only happened that morning and yet Sebastian still harped on about what they could’ve done differently. “Relatively certain he…gets his thrills from it, the amount of beatings he’s taken”

“I can guarantee he wouldn’t have enjoyed it” Sebastian muttered darkly

“And I can guarantee he won’t enjoy being blind for a few days”

“Days?!” Sebastian halted his pacing to stare over at Ominis “Remember how you droned on at me about Dark Magic? That may not be considered ‘Dark Magic’ but that’s pretty cruel…”

“Oh how terrible for him to not be blessed with sight for a while” It was his turn to sulk now, folding his arms across his chest and moping against the backrest.

“I’m not saying I don’t approve” Sebastian smirked.

They’re ‘Daniel Debate’ was cut short by Evelyn hurriedly stomping down the spiral staircase and making a b-line for the girls dorms.

“Evelyn? Are you okay?” Ominis called, immediately recognising her footing and her familiar scent the moment she entered the room.

Her head snapped over to the pair and she sighed, veering off course towards Sebastian.

Oh…she’d heard about Daniel

Before Sebastian could get a proper reading on her expression she came crashing into his chest. What little he did see did not bode well.

Red eyes.

Blotchy skin.

And now she was against him he could feel her tiny sobs throughout her whole body. Her arms clung round his waist, fingers digging desperately into his back.

“What’s going on?” Ominis said flatly, suddenly appearing next her. His hand hovered protectively at her waist and Sebastian watched as she flinched away from it.

——————————————————————————

“What happened?” Sebastian pulled her from him, taking her ruddied face in his hands. She could see his eyes darting all over her, settling between her eyes. The movement made her feel dizzy, trying to keep up and make eye contact.

“I…” Evelyn started weakly.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard her cry…” Ominis said softly, almost to himself.

“…since Ranrok…everyone has been trying to thank me. People have bought me gifts and all sorts. Little tokens of appreciation.

“And he’d been so nice to me in the past. He’d bought me some flowers said they were from his parents for saving their son. And he offered to help me put my books back…

“Then he held my waist whilst I leant up to put a book away…and…he…touched…”

Her voice cracked as she stopped speaking, covering her face in what looked like…embarrassment?

No. That wouldn’t do.

The red bloom of her skin angered Sebastian more than he thought it would. He’d only ever known Evelyn as this strong, independent witch who’d surpassed him in every way in less than a year.

Now she was a shell. It almost felt…wrong.

——————————————————————————

“What happened?” Sebastian repeated with urgency.

“Forget that…Who was it?” Ominis growled

“Ravenclaw in our Herbology class…’S’ something…” she mumbled

“Samuel Graves…” Ominis said flatly

“On it…” Sebastian grunted and released Evelyn before making for the staircase.

“Where are you going? What are you doing?” Evelyn panted desperately her eyes wide with fear. She was perfectly aware of what Sebastian was capable of.

“I’m making a trip to Ravenclaw Tower. Amit owes me a favour”

“Ominis, stop him!” She turned to the blind Slytherin pleadingly. She was met with a simple shrug “Sebastian, don’t. I…I was being friendly he probably didn’t mean anything by it or-“

“No!” Sebastian snarled “Did he make you uncomfortable?”

Evelyn opened her mouth to protest but she choked on the ghost of a sob…and reluctantly nodded.

“That’s all I need to know”

~

When Sebastian returned to the Dungeons, it was well past curfew. Ominis and Evelyn sat in the stained glass alcoves waiting for him, Ominis calmly drinking tea whilst Evelyns own cup had gone cold on the floor by her feet.

“I may or may not need you to talk to Black” Sebastian said upon seeing the Blonde Slytherin nod in his direction

“What did you d-“ Evelyn scrambled to her feet before halting her approach.

Wand drawn and covered head to toe in blood. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen him like it…but it was the first time she knew it was a students blood on his robes.

“I’ll need to talk to Black anyway…he will not be staying in this school. I can assure you of that” Ominis said casually, his power and influence still coming as a shock to Evelyn.

“Sebastian…” she breathed “…what…did you do?”

He shrugged

“What I had to”

~

Roughly a week later, Daniel got his eye-sight back. He meekly made his way through the halls, trying to ignore the smirks and comments as he went.

“Oh Daniel there you are” Sebastian’s fingers wrapped around the nape of his neck. From the outside, the tone of his voice and his hand to his neck seemed…rather friendly. But the subtle way Sebastian dragged him backwards and flexed his fingers into his skin informed Daniel…this was anything but...

“Nice to see you again” Ominis’ haughty tone only adding to impending sense of danger.

“What do you two want? I haven’t gone anywhere near her” Daniel spat weakly

“Oh, we know” Sebastian grinned “Won’t you join us for a walk around the courtyard”

“I have Charms I need to-“

“It wasn’t a request I’m afraid” Ominis chirped smugly and Sebastian dragged him by the neck along with them, a wicked smile pulling at his lips.

Upon entering the courtyard, all three were greeted with the high pitched and desperate screams of the Ravenclaw, Samuel Graves. He kicked and screamed as several ministry officials physically dragged him away. He was putting up quite a fight, considering his face, arm and opposite hand were all bandaged up still.

“Such a shame…” Ominis spoke almost disinterestedly, as Sebastian pushed Daniel forward. “Turns out our good friend Samuel has been dabbling in the Dark Arts”

Sebastian chuckled darkly, arms folded and watching with glee as the Ravenclaw got bundled into the back of a carriage, heading straight for Azkaban.

“See Daniel…” Ominis leant down to whisper in his ear “…that could be you. Easily. So I suggest you continue to keep away from Eve”

Masterlist

[underthenightskydreamsneverdie]

Precious Moments

Summary: Ominis uses Polyjuice to witness special moments with Sebasitan and f!MC 

Warmings: This fic is sweeter than anything Ominis could ever find at Honeydukes. Might even make you cry. 

Pairings: Nothing but the sweet love between Sebastian x f!MC x Ominis in this beauty 

A/N: I may have ugly cried while writing this and if you want to ugly cry too, here is the song that helped shape it 

Ominis felt around on the table, picked up the vial, and slipped it into his jacket pocket, it’s home everyday for the last month. She was due any day now and he wanted to be ready. 

He still wasn’t used to the awful smell he got a whiff of every morning when filling the vial, not to mention the lumpy texture, but it was worth it to see them, the two, soon to be three, loves of his life. 

He would never forget the first time he used the Polyjuice Potion. They had discovered the potion recipe in the spring of their seventh year, made a hasty plan for brewing it in the Undercroft, praying it would be ready before the end of the year. A week before graduation, MC had found him, told him it was time if he still wanted to do it. It had been a dizzying day. He felt more than a little awkward turning into his best friend, hearing his voice when he spoke, but one look in Sebastians eyes and he knew he would never want to transform into anyone else. He loved seeing the world through the eyes of the man he loved. Eyes that he got lost in, memorizing every detail, every speck of color, the way they stared back at him so lovingly.  

They had spent a few hours wandering the castle together before Sebastian and MC had willingly let him drag they back to the Undercroft, telling them the dizzying splendor of the outside world was nothing compared to the two of them. They spent hours indulging in each others bodies that night, Ominis keeping his eyes open for all of it, as difficult as they made it for him at times, drinking in the sight of their reactions to his touch, memorizing the looks of pleasure that accompanied the sounds they made as they came undone around him, some of his favorite sounds in the world. Far too soon for his liking the potion wore off, the last thing he saw, MCs and Sebastians naked bodies sprawled out next to him, their sleepy eyes gazing at him lovingly, seared into his mind forever. The moment he was himself again he wished he could do it all over, he would never get enough of them.

“There you are” MCs voice said softly “As fun as it was to be taken by two Sebastians at once, I missed your body, Omi.” 

The second time he had used the Polyjuice was their wedding day. After the small group of friends they’d invited had left, he pulled a small vial from his pocket. 

“Sebastian, love, will you allow me the honor of borrowing your eyes once more?”  

“Of course, darling.” Sebastian stepped forward, pulling a couple strands of hair from his head, carefully dropping them into the vial before leaning in to kiss his husband. 

“Wait, I want a kiss too!” MCs voice called out quickly as he raised the vial to his lips.

Laughing, he lowered the vial, pulling her into him. “Anything for you, Little Dove.” As she pulled away he drank the potion, the familiar sensation of transforming overtaking him.  

“I will never get used to that feeling.” Sebastians voice once again conveyed his thoughts. He stood still, eyes closed for a moment, preparing himself. This dose of Polyjuice was much smaller than the one he had taken years ago. Determined not to waste what little time he had he pushed his emotions aside, wiling the tears already welling in his eyes to hold out, he needed a clear first look at his spouses. 

Slowly opening his eyes, squinting against the setting sun, he took them in. They were mesmerizing, radiating a joy he could almost see without the potion. He reached out a hand for theirs, the sun glinting off their wedding bands as they clasped hands. The bands had been MCs idea, her inspiration the snake tattoos they’d given each other after graduation, three thin pieces of metal, one gold for her, one black for Sebastian, and one silver for him, woven together, forever inseparable. The theme continued on their clothing, MCs cream dress covered in pale gold snakes, Sebastians black silk vest covered in deep green snakes, his own silver vest covered in bright white snakes. 

“Come closer, loves, let me see the ways I’ve felt your bodies change over the years.”

The changes in Sebastian were more obvious, his face thinner, more angular, covered in short scruffy facial hair. He was taller now, even taller than Ominis, his shoulders broader, muscular arms straining against his rolled up sleeves as he threw an arm around MCs neck. 

His eyes moved to MCs figure, her beauty making him weak in the knees. 

“Oh, Little Dove, Sebastian has told me you’ve been getting more beautiful by the day, but his words have not done you justice.” A slight blush broke out on her cheeks. She had grown taller too, just enough to rest her forehead against his chin. Her soft hair, which he more often than not woke up entangled in, flowed down her back. 

“Did you see these, Omi?” Sebastian asked him as he let his hand fall causally onto her breast before giving it a squeeze, laughing at her reaction. “Hey, I’m your husband now MC, I can do that anytime I like.”

Ominis made quite a show of taking advantage of Sebastians taller form, slowly peeking down her dress at her breasts, now a fair bit larger than the last time he'd seen them, the soft mounds peeking out of the deep neckline of her dress.

“MC, are you not wearing anything under there?” he teased as he caught a quick flash of her bare nipples. “What about down here?” He hadn’t wanted things to get sexual before he was himself again, but he couldn't resist seeing her in something special, knowing she had picked it out just for him and Sebastian. He slid a hand up her thigh, and moaned as he felt the soft fabric covering her butt. 

Lace. His favorite. He removed his hand from her soft skin, grabbing for her hand.

“Darling, let’s go inside, I need to see what you chose to wear for your husbands tonight.” 

Chuckling as Sebastian growled out “Yessss, finnnnally” he lead them into their little cottage. The moment they cleared the threshold, he dropped to his knees, pushed up her dress and pressed his face into her thigh, the white lace soft against his nose. He pressed soft kisses against all the skin he could reach, getting so lost in her he almost forgot he was meant to be taking in the sight of her. He leaned back, spinning her around, hands immediately slipping under her panties, giving her ass a squeeze. 

Merlin’s beard she’s sexy. 

“Sebastian, wait, please.” He watched Sebastian pull his lips away from MCs neck with a moan, the hand he’d slid between her legs freezing in place. “I’m sorry my loves, I want this to continue, Merlin's beard do I want this to continue, but would you mind if we waited until I’m myself again?” 

“Of course not, Ominis, we’d much rather wait too” MC said, pulling him up to her face before fixing her dress. “We love being seen by you, but we love you for you even more.” She took his hands, pressing them to her chest. 

“How about you boys come dance with your wife?”

Sebastian stepped close, wrapping his arms around Ominis and MC. They spent twenty minutes holding each other close, laughing, and dancing before the Polyjuice potion wore off, Ominis’ eyes going black. The moment he was fully himself again, using his own voice, he said 

“My beautiful wife, my handsome husband, thank you for this. It’s been a absolute privilege to look upon you again.”  Pulling them each in for a deep kiss, he let the tears he had fought so hard against fall. Their hands pulled him to the sofa, and as they settled onto either side of him, their own tears of joy fell. 

Ominis was pulled back into the present as MC let out a loud groan followed by an odd splashing sound. 

“Ominis! I think it’s time!” Her voice was excited and panicked as he jumped off the sofa, internally freaking out. Why are you freaking out, we’ve gone over what to do dozens of times, pull yourself together Ominis! 

The next twenty minutes were a blur as he sent for Sebastian and prepared everything for the birth as he’d been instructed to by Mrs. Weasley, MCs not so quiet screaming making it hard to concentrate. A loud crack announced Sebastian's arrival, Ominis for once glad he had never perfected his landings, the noise bringing him great comfort today. 

Sebastian rushed through the door, almost breaking it down in his haste, followed closely by Mrs. Weasley, who was already telling MC what to do. Ominis had always liked her, she had always showed genuine love for them and support for their unconventional relationship, so when she reached out to offer her congratulations on their pregnancy and of course her help in any way should they need it, Ominis had written her back explaining his desire to use the Polyjuice potion the day their child was born. Mrs. Weasley, she later told him, had cried upon reading his letter, and written back instantly, insisting on helping MC deliver the baby. Over the next six months they made a plan for a home birth, Mrs. Weasley confident in her skills to assist, she had, after all, given birth to all of her children at home and helped three grandchildren into the world at this point in her life. As they quickly became close friends, exchanging letters and visiting each other many times, Ominis could think of no one better to help deliver his child.  

“Alright, sweetheart, lets get you on the bed. Ominis, you still plan on taking your potion, yes? Alright, then Sebastian why don't you sit behind MC, let her rest her back against you, there you go, that's perfect. Ominis come sit here next to them, I’ll let you know when to take the potion, okay? Don’t want to take it too soon in case the little one wants to take its time coming out. Oh, and boys, you may want to leave your hands out of her reach, Mr. Weasley ended up with a broken thumb when our oldest was born. He’s never let me live it down. Alright, now we wait.”

Wait they did, every second of it killing Ominis. He discovered Mrs. Weasley had been right about where he put his hands, them automatically going to MCs thigh during her first contraction, only for them both to end up screaming in pain. He moved closer to Sebastian, his arms around both of their shoulders, out of danger. Every once in a while Mrs. Weasley would check something, he had no idea what, but whatever it was still wasn’t ready. He could feel Sebastian sweating through his shirt, probably from MC digging her nails into his leg every few minutes, could hear him kissing her forehead, telling her she was doing great, and looked more beautiful to him than she ever had.

By the time whatever Mrs. Weasley was checking on was ready Ominis was a nervous wreck, MCs screams setting him on edge. Should it be taking this long? What if something was wrong?   

“Alright, dear, it’s time to start pushing. Don’t worry, your body knows what to do, just push when it tells you to.”

The screams that emanated from MC from that point on made Ominis so worried he had to stand up and pace next to the bed. After what felt like a lifetime, Mrs. Weasley told him it was time to take the Polyjuice. He pulled the vial from his jacket, downed the awful liquid, and doubled over from the transformation. Not sparing his eyes a second to adjust this time, he threw his head up, eyes opening wide as he heard the first cry of life from his child. 

“Oh, it’s a boy!” Mrs. Weasley cried cheerfully. Looking up at the second Sebastian now in the room, a startled sound coming from her lips, she smiled. “Ominis would you like to hand him over to Mom?”

“Y-yes, I-I think I would.”

Taking the cloth wrapped bundle from her, a laugh strangled with emotion coming from him, he stared down at his son. Tiny whisp of brown hair topped his head, blue eyes stared back at him, one tiny hand already wiggling free from the blanket, reaching for him. 

Ominis slowly sat down on the bed, gently cradling the baby in his arms as his spouses leaned over his shoulder to peek at their son. He knew he should pass the boy to MC, should check to be sure she was alright, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away from his son. His son! Only when he heard soft sobs behind him, felt Sebastians body shaking could he tear his gaze away. 

His eyes fell upon MC first. Sebastian was right, she had never been more beautiful than in this moment, sweat covered, disheveled, exhausted, and eyes full of tears, she was breathtaking. He gently shifted the baby into her waiting arms, taking her into his own arms as best he could. He pushed a piece of her damp hair off her forehead, covering the spot with a soft kiss. He could tell her how amazing she was later, this moment was about their boy. 

Turning his head to face Sebastian, he smiled. Ominis may be biased but he thought his husband had never been more beautiful than in this moment also, pure joy on his face, tears openly flowing, staring lovingly into the face of his baby boy. 

“Sebby, do you want to hold him, love?” MC asked gently. 

“I think I might need a few more minutes first, damn emotions, plus I’m enjoying seeing my wife hold our son.” Sebastian responded, placing a kiss on her head. “What should we name him?” 

“What if...what if we name him Andrew?” MC tilted her head up to Sebastian, making sure he understood. He did. A fresh sob and an almost imperceptible nod the only answer he could manage.  

They sat together, snuggled up as a family, basking in their love for one another and the beauty of their little one for quite a while before MC asked Sebastian if he was ready to hold Andrew.

“I’m getting a little tired, loves.”

“Why don’t you boys take him into the living room, while I help MC freshen up, and tidy up the bed.” Mrs. Weasleys soft voice said from the end of the bed, where she had sat quietly crying and watching the little family, startling Ominis. He had all but forgot she was there. 

He looked up at her, smiling, “Thank you, Mrs. Weasley, for everything.” Before he knew it he was on his feet, hugging the sweet older woman. 

“You’re welcome, dear. Now go on, us women have work to do.”

Sebastian and Ominis sat huddled together on the sofa, passing Andrew back and forth, talking to him and laughing when he did absolutely anything, the love they had for him unlike anything they had ever felt. Too soon Mrs. Weasley came into the room, telling them that MC was clean, comfortable, and ready to see them, her three boys. 

“Now, if you boys will excuse me, I feel the need to drop in on my own children before heading home. Congratulations again, Dads, he’s beautiful.” 

They entered the bedroom to find MC already laying down. Gently positioning Andrew down on the bed between MC and himself, Sebastian lay next to her. Ominis took up his usual place on her right. With one last look at the three of them, he leaned back on his pillow and closed his eyes, voluntarily letting the blackness in. 

Would he use the Polyjuice potion again? Maybe. On a far off wedding anniversary, or during Andrews first Christmas break from Hogwarts, perhaps. But for now, he was happy, enough precious moments seen to fill him with joy for a lifetime. 

[polly-sly]

guys when you read fics with “Y/N” in it do you really put your name in this gap while reading?

cause I just keep saying “y/n y/n y/n y/n” in my head. this is awkward but putting my real name there is even more awkward for me ://

Or maybe I have troubles with imagination 💭

[antaresgalaeth]

✨ My Hogwarts Legacy Master list ✨

Important: to see +18 posts, make sure you go to Settings - Content you see - Community labels - Mature [Show]

WARNING: The lists contain 🔞NSFW content

✍🏻 MASTER LIST | FANFICS

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

FANARTS: 👩🏻‍🎨 MASTER LIST #1 | Ominis Gaunt x MC

👩🏻‍🎨 MASTER LIST #2 | Sebastian Sallow x MC 👩🏻‍🎨 MASTER LIST #3 | 3 heads are better than one

👩🏻‍🎨 MASTER LIST #4 | Other characters

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

All my links in LINKTREE

WANT TO SUPPORT MY ART? 😊👇🏻

Tips/shop: Gumroad

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OTHER BLOG:

The Bad Batch / Star Wars: @antares-ct-9905

[shadowshaman]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Stardew Valley (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Sebastian/Player (Stardew Valley), Sebastian/Female Player (Stardew Valley), Sebastian/Male Player (Stardew Valley), Sebastian (Stardew Valley)/Reader Characters: Sebastian (Stardew Valley), Harvey (Stardew Valley), Reader, Farmer Additional Tags: Near Death, Near Death Experiences, Romance, Slow Burn, Pining, Mutual Pining, Eventual Romance, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Reader-Insert, Sebastian is Bad at Feelings (Stardew Valley), Gender Neutral Player (Stardew Valley), Stardew Valley References Summary:

sdv one shot

the farmer is mining, no different than usual, when yoba decides he is not in good spirits. monsters descend, and pain ensues.

[here-for-the-captain]

For those fanfic writers who worry that no one’s reading or they aren’t that good - you may be our next Oscar winner. I believe in you!

Chloé Zhao, who just won an Oscar for best director, writes fanfiction.

That's the kind of validation I needed in my life. Thank you, ma'am.

[that1geek06]

"English isn't my-"

Hush now my friend, and let me read the absolute beauty of a fic that you have bestowed this world and humiliated the first English speakers with

[rinaxtaros]

[06] | 𝐑𝐄𝐃.

summary: Ciel, [y/n] and Sebastian discuss her future with the Phantomhive’s.

— Tainted (verb) contaminate or pollute (something)

"Well if you are ordered to be by my side I suppose there is nothing I can do.” Ciel shrugs as his eyes flutter close. Sebastian scoffs "My Lord!"

Ciel opens his eye to glare at his baffled butler “I believe this matter has no need for your input, surely you understand the details of our contract?"

Sebastian stays quiet as he sees Ciel had stuck him in a rut. It is true. Yet it annoys him that his simple-minded human master had told him about the details of a demonic contract. He lets his eye twitch in annoyance.

"Do not fret, Sebastian" You interrupt, placing a hand against your heart in feign compassion “I do not wish to consume your master's tainted soul.”

Your eyes flush with a beautiful array of pinks, reds and magentas. Your passion is very obvious as it swirls within your eyes when you’re speaking.

Ciel observes your characteristics intently. The young boy notices the way your eyes seem to glow a passionate red whilst you speak (mock) to Sebastian, and how they seem to sparkle under the candlelit room. Ciel believes your eyes are reminiscent to his late aunts ruby hair.

Though, he should be terrified by the powerful aura you hold, he is nothing short of captivated. Even when you were disguised as a figure close to his mother, he could still sense your strong abilities. Although he may not of known of your supernatural prowess, the confidence you radiate when you’re not acting the part of a humble maid is something that matches Sebastian’s cocky attitude.

"If you are to watch over me, I suppose we should disguise you as a maid." Ciel interrupts the bickering that had begun between you and Sebastian in his time spent thinking.

“Perhaps a housekeeper, a higher position.” He ponders, hand cupping his chin.

“Very smart, young master.” Sebastian comments, ignoring how your smile is pissing him off “It means she can speak to us regularly without being questioned.”

Ciel nods.

"Maybe a name change is in place?" He asks as he looks towards the newest member of the Phantomhive manor.

“Whatever you wish, Phantomhive.” You reply, looking towards the young boy. Despite his young age, he is quite a distinguished businessman.

Ciel thinks for a few moments, allowing the sounds of nature to enter the room. The light pitter-patter of the rain against the large expanse of the glass panes is calming to say the least. It adds to the atmosphere of the room that Sebastian had attempted to make for his master.

You glance at Sebastian. He has had his guard up the whole time you were here, which you find quite confusing. You have shown no sign of aggression, just a simple jest here and there with said demon.

"Have you had any past names?" Ciel rips the two from their staging contest. You laugh “It would take me years to list them all, little Phantomhive."

You blink, thinking “You can call me [y/n]. We can just pretend you hired me after your aunts passing.”

Ciel growls lightly "Do not call me that!" You cock a brow. It’s quite easy to rile up the poor thing. Has Sebastian been a good little dog and not crossed the line with little Ciel?

"I think I recall that you are not my master.”

Sebastian hums "I suppose you aren't my Lord, however, technically you don't have a master at all." He glances at you through the corner of his eye, almost smirking as he tries to one up you.

“Her soul has been eaten has it not?"

You nod. “That is a dilemma for me.” You slip the lacy glove from your hand to show the pair the faint marking “It disappeared when she passed, but after reading the letter, it reappeared.”

“Only slightly, though.” Sebastian hums.

The study falls quiet, the only sound being the clock that ticked on the mantelpiece. The soft glow of the room bounces off of the entities present.

The two seem to communicate silently, passing you glances. It unsettles you.

"I hope that you don't get too happy with me being here, I find it tedious." You add, downcasting your eyes to your scratched shoes. The woodlands had done a number on the polished material.

"Perhaps you can be an informant, surely you know quite a bit about the underworld." Ciel asks.

“Oh? and why would I tell you?” You tease half-heartedly.

"Because I have Sebastian" He speaks smugly "I'll just ask him to torture it out of you.”

His attitude is truly vile. A little boy with such tone-deaf confidence really ticks you off.

“Is that anyway to speak to someone that can so easily kill you?" You mutter, tongue clicking against the roof of your mouth in distaste. Sebastian shuffles, turning towards your figure.

Does he not realise you have to desire in hurting the boy?

“Plus I think you’ll find that…” You glance over at Sebastian “I’ll enjoy it.”

"Is that anyway to speak to my Lord?" Sebastian enquires, stepping towards the demoness who changes her gaze to the wall in front of her.

"I'm starting to rethink this proposition, perhaps I will ignore Anne's last order.” A sigh escapes your lips, tired eyes boring into Sebastians so uninterested it makes his blood boil. Sebastian scoffs.

"You call yourself a Faustian demon yet you disobey your masters orders?" Sebastian glares in disgust. You mirror the disgusted look "You may have respect in Hell, but we are on Earth, I shan't feel scrutinised by your words.”

Ciel laughs from his chair, watching the conflict between demons. A voice in his head tells him he should probably be scared as there is a high chance that a demon fight will break out. Sebastian's demon aura grows from his back, magnifying with the blatant disrespect you continue to show but by the cocky smirk on your face, it’s clear you enjoy pushing his buttons.

Perhaps Ciel will bargain to keep you around.

"Your words aren't just blatant disrespect, but I rather find it amusing to think you will get away with what you say.” Sebastian growls. You shrug her shoulders "If you think you'll get me back in Hell then you are wrong, I don't wish to go back there for centuries.”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow "You think I won't get you here? You think lowly of me, darling.” He chuckles lightly as he collects himself.

Ciel hums, his hands resting in his lap "Will you stay [y/n]? I'm sure you would like to get started on your next contract.”

"Yes.” You confirm, "I would like to make a contract, but no souls attract me.”

Your eyes flutter closed for a second, "It's getting late, little Lord, are you sure you're not tired?" You ask, eyes fluttering open to catch the slight slouch in his posture. Ciel’s houlders droop as he tries to keep himself up right, but he fails miserably. He’s still a child after all - he’ll eventually give into his tiredness.

Sebastian turns to his master, his hands toying with the Phantomhive stopwatch and clicking it open. His eyes widen "Unfortunately she is right my Lord, the time is a quarter past twelve.”

Ciel sighs tiredly "I suppose so.”

"What game are you playing at?" Sebastian asks as he walks down the large hallway, candle holder in hand. His eyes flicker occasionally to the demoness beside him who walks along silently.

"Nothing..but now that you say something like that, perhaps I'll start one.” You taunt, fluttering your lashes towards Sebastian who watches with an unreadable expression.

He scoffs "I can tell what sin you are.”

You pouts (although you weren’t trying to hide it), "Really? How about we play a game then?” You pause Sebastian in his stride.

He watches as your hand slivers to grasp around his black tie. Your fingers curve around the material, watching as his eyes flicker between your hand and your face. You pull, relishing in the way he seems to stutter.

Sebastian's eyes waver for a few seconds as he formulates a plan. A smirk widens on his face as he leans closer, there faces barely centimetres apart "Perhaps we can, but I decide the rules'.”

[brunchable]

𝙄 𝘿𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙇𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝘽𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙁𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙 [ 2 ]

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Themes: Friends to Lovers. SMUT: Touch Hungry Bucky, Kiss Hungry Bucky, Bucky just not getting enough of you, fingering, cunnilingus, Oral [M&F], unprotected piv, creampie. Just PURE making love, no kinks. Summary: It's only been a few hours since you've become official and Bucky want to show you just how much you mean to him. A/N: 2 of 2. And I must say. . . JAYSUS. BON APETITIDDIES.

Part One

You were stiff. You were sore. Your arm was asleep. And you felt fucking fantastic.

Maybe in the movies people woke up entwined in each other's arms after a night of spirited lovemaking, but for you, reality was much more awkward. Your head had somehow become wedged behind Bucky’s shoulder, and both his legs were about to slide off the couch altogether. You untangled yourself as best you could, looking down at him as you moved his limbs out of the way.

Bucky was sleeping peacefully, his dark lashes lying flat against the skin beneath his eyes. They fluttered slightly as you pulled free of him, and he stirred.

"Five more minutes," he mumbled, and turned over so he was facing the back of the couch, still caught in mid-slide towards the floor.

You tried not to laugh. God, he was adorable.

You sat up, arching your back to stretch out the sore muscles. Then your breath caught. What time was it? Holy hell, I’m going to be late.

You stood up quickly, and was seized by an ache between your legs so unfamiliar that you nearly sat back down again. Holy crap. It had been way too long. You almost felt like a virgin again. You rose again shakily, noticing that your whole groin felt sore, and so did your hips—probably from throwing your legs up around his waist. God, what a wanton hussy you were, you thought happily.

You went quietly towards the bathroom, checking the clock on the stove as you walked by. It was nearly eight-thirty. Crap. You were supposed to be at work by nine, or nine-thirty at the latest. you'd  have to make the shower a quick one.

You stood under the hot water, letting it pour over your sore muscles. You washed out your hair, lathered up your body and massaged your sore hips as random images from last night invaded your thoughts. Even now you weren't entirely convinced it hadn't all been a dream. Has it really happened? The soreness was real enough. And so were the images flashing through your mind.

Bucky’s body on yours, looming over you, holding your wrists, kissing you with abandon. Taking each breast in his mouth, teasing you with his fingers. Sliding into you, tilting your back and thrusting deeper, faster, harder.

Suddenly a blurry figure appeared on the other side of the glass door. The door slid open and he stood there, looking disheveled from sleep but adorably sexy. And naked, too.

"Hi," he said, a seductive smile curving his lips. His eyes traveled down your naked body, pausing at your breasts and then sliding down to the between your legs where rivulets of water coursed and ran together.

You flushed at the frank inspection but willed yourself not to try to hide from him. You shifted your weight, jutting your hip out provocatively and smiled.

His eyes returned to yours, desire glinting in them. "May I join you?"

You pushed the door back and invited him in. Bucky stepped in and crowded you, not unpleasantly, until your back was up against the tiles. He braced his hands on the wall behind you, and let the water flow over him as he leaned down and kissed you.

You opened to him and kissed him back, winding your hands around his waist and sliding them down his ass, squeezing appreciatively. He smiled into the kiss, enjoying your wandering hands, then pushed forward so your bodies were pressed together, the water slick and warm between you.

"So," he murmured in your ear, his voice barely a whisper above the sound of the water. "So much for that idea."

"What idea was that?" you whispered back, kissing his ear.

"The idea that we could ever be just friends," he said, catching your jaw with his lips as you turned your head. He covered your neck with slow, lingering kisses, trailing his mouth down your and cupping your breast with his hand.

"Oh, I don't know, I think it's a great idea so far," you said coquettishly. "Besides," you joked. "I do this with all my male friends."

He mocked a scowl at you, and gave you  that smile that had always melted you. "Well, that's going to have to stop. You're mine now."

He kissed you slowly, his tongue tangling with yours as he teased and tasted, enjoying your mouth.

You kissed him back, licking and tasting and enjoying him until you felt rather than heard a hum of desire, of pure carnal lust, vibrating through him. He was growing hard against your belly, his cock pressing against you urgently.

He lowered his head further and took your  nipple into his mouth, licking the soft nub until it grew hard beneath his tongue. Pleasure shot through you, and he turned to lavish the same attention on your other breast. You writhed against the cold tiles at your back, arching into him and sinking your fingers into his hair to hold him to you. He smiled as you moaned with pleasure, and laughed softly when he took your nipple between his teeth and made you suck in a sharp breath.

His cock was as hard as it had been a few hours ago, and it surged in your hand as he took your breasts. You gathered some suds into your palm and grasped him again, feeling the iron-hardness of him beneath the silky skin. You began to stroke, gliding fast and smooth, and he groaned from the pleasure of it, collapsing against you and kissing you between his soft, low sounds of pleasure and need.

You kept stroking and teasing, gliding over him in a steady rhythm, and felt yourself growing warm and slick at how hard he was beneath your fingers. You loved that you were doing that to him, making him want you so much. He groaned, his breath jagged and shallow. He tried to kiss you through his mounting pleasure but he had to break off to breathe, to lose himself in the sensation.

"God, baby," he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. "So good."

You tried not to focus on him calling you baby, knowing it was only his arousal talking. You focused instead on the intense pleasure that was making him say it. You continued stroking him, changing your hand position so that you pulled up with each stroke, teasingly pulling his skin up over the head each time and sinking down to the base, pleasuring every inch of him. Your other hand cupped his balls and caressed him, gently rolling him around in your fingers as he tensed and surged and seemed to fight against you, against the unbearable pleasure you were causing him.

After a few torturous moments he stopped your hand, his breathing so fast and ragged that he could hardly speak. 

“You—don't want—this to end too soon, do you?” he warned, kissing you in between breaths. “Because, my God, you could make me come in seconds if you wanted to.”

“That might be fun,” you said, kissing the edges of his mouth, licking at his lips and his tongue when he opened his mouth to you again.

“For me, yes,” he breathed, breaking away from you. “But I'm not nearly finished with you yet.”

He slipped his hand into your hair and held your head, kissing you with such raw passion, such naked need that you felt a surge of warmth flood between your legs in spite of the cooling effects of the water. He had wrung a soul-shattering orgasm out of you just a few hours ago and yet here you were again, eager for him again. Wanton hussy indeed.

"Do you remember that night, two years ago?" he asked, his voice low and deep. "At the party, when I played that song on the guitar for you, and you asked whether it hurt my fingers to play the steel strings?"

He was watching his own fingers trail over your breasts, over your tightened nipple, down past your navel, as the water trickled over you both.

"Mmm hmmm," you murmured, your eyes closed, lost in the sensation of the water coursing down your body and his hand moving over you.

“And you touched my fingertips…”

Of course you remembered; you'd run your  fingers over the roughened pads of his fingertips, and had watched in delight as he'd twitched a little, and then trembled, just a little, at your touch. You'd kept your touch feather-light and soft, drifting over his fingertips and down his fingers a little, feeling the shiver of heightened awareness in your  own hands.

Maybe you'd been a little too suggestive, a little too lingering, whispering-touching those parts of him that were supposedly hardened against such sensations—but you'd been unable to stop yourself. His hands had been warm and strong and eminently male, and when he'd stiffened and held his breath, as if willing himself not to react to your seductive touch, you'd felt that shiver of awareness deepen into an intense desire.

Such a seemingly innocent touch, just a friend examining the time-worn calluses of a guitar player's fingertips. . .and yet in that moment, even amongst their friends, even with the music playing loud and the laughter soaring above it, you'd felt like it had been just the two of you in that room, touching each other intentionally for the very first time, your hand tentatively reaching out for his, and his reaching to meet your half way.

“You drove me wild.” he said, leaning to kiss your neck. “I got so hard, I was afraid to move. And after that, I kept thinking of all the things I wanted to do to you with these fingers.” He slipped his hand between your  legs and caressed your folds, parting them gently and sliding inside you. “Like this, for instance.”

You moaned and leaned your head against his shoulder, letting him touch you wherever he wanted. His fingers explored you, caressed you, possessed you, expertly as though they, too, knew you were his.

“I just had to touch you,” you breathed against him. “And believe me, this is what I was thinking about too.”

“You stopped me last night,” he murmured, dragging his mouth along your neck. “I wanted to feel you come for me. To finish what you started that night.”

You groaned at the sound of his voice, so low and sexual, so heated with his own desire.

“Let me feel you come for me, baby,” he whispered into your ear, licking your  earlobe. “Please.”

He gripped your hip and lifted you up against the wall slightly, positioning you so he could slide his fingers deep inside you. He held you firmly around the waist, bracing you against the wall, and thrust into you gently, with first one finger, then two, sliding deeper and deeper each time, stretching you, mimicking the size and power of his cock. His thumb played over your clit, sending shocks of pleasure through you as he pressed his forehead to yours and gazed down into your  eyes. You gasped and cried out from the overwhelming pleasure of it even as you squirmed beneath his fingers and ached for more.

He braced you against his thigh and pressed against you while his arm steadied you from behind, holding you completely in his grasp. Bucky had such a way of holding you, letting you know that you were going nowhere, making sure you had no desire to be anywhere but in his arms. You felt safe, and secure, and above all, worshiped.

Bucky bent down and kissed you, sliding his fingers into your with a wild, sensuous rhythm that matched the increasing speed of his thumb as it stroked and rubbed and swirled around your aching clit. His hand was so strong, his fingers curving inside you to caress you, to find that super-sensitive inner spot even as he plunged and drove and took. With his thumb circling your clit in a relentless rhythm and his fingers deep inside you, stretching you, claiming you, you felt completely owned by him, by the hand that possessed every inch of you.

His tongue slipped into your mouth, matching the rhythm of his fingers, swirling, tasting, mutely revealing that he had had another  fantasy, too. The thought of his mouth on you, his tongue tasting you, torturing you, swirling over your clit as you writhed beneath it made you go weak in the knees.

Bucky broke away from the kiss and began trailing kisses down your neck, your breasts, lowering himself to his knees in front of you  while bracing your hips against the tiles with his strong hands.

"Did I mention what it did to me the first time your tongue touched mine?" he whispered devilishly.

He looked up at you so intently, his beautiful blue eyes blazing as the water streamed over his shoulder and down the contours of his chest. You gazed down at him, and for the second time this morning questioned whether  all this could actually be happening. This gorgeous, virile man gripping you, kneeling before you, gazing at you like you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. It couldn't be real, could it?

Then he lowered his lips to your and you knew it was.

Sensation tore through your touch, so delicately gentle at first, and you arched against the wall with a startled cry. You reached down and gripped his shoulder, steadying yourself on one foot as he brought you to your leg up slowly, gently and eased it over his shoulder. The sight of it alone nearly made you come. He moved so languidly, so sensuously, positioning you better so he could enjoy your all the more.

He closed his mouth over your clit and kissed it luxuriously, his lips moving as though he were kissing your mouth. His tongue swirled over you in large, sensuous circles and he groaned against you, tightening his grip on your hip as you moaned against the sudden overwhelming pleasure of it. The tip of his tongue darted out to flick against your  rapidly as he looked up at you again, watching your pleasure, his eyes smiling at you as if he knew precisely how good he was making you feel. Then he fell on you again, his tongue roaming over you, tasting you, luxuriating in your folds and dipping to lap at your entrance.

“Oh my, g-god. Bucky—”

You bucked against him and cried out as his tongue slipped into your and pulsed there, gently, savouring you. Your hand sank into his wet hair and as you gripped his head, you were rewarded with a muted chuckle and a more intense forward surge of his tongue inside you. He liked the moans he wrought from you. He liked being able to make your  cry out and seize him, your head thrown back in agonizing pleasure.

And fuck did you like it, too.

"Oh God," you breathed, your heart thundering in your chest. "My God, that feels so good..."

He withdrew from your and slid his tongue up to torture your aching clit, and just when you began to miss the feel of him inside your he gently pushed his fingers into your again and began to thrust.

Pleasure soared through you and you cried out even louder, and the leg draped over his shoulder began to tremble. His tongue circled your clit again, deliciously slowly, as his fingers slid into you over and over again, a sensual, primitive rhythm that made you  want to grind your hips against the pleasure.

“I'm coming,” you whispered urgently. “You're going to make me come…”

His fingers thrust deeper and faster and he began to lick you so quickly, with such a throaty groan of pleasure that you felt your  orgasm rise, terrifyingly fast and sharp, making you cry out in increasing, panting breaths until you shattered, coming violently around his fingers and that sensuous, irresistible tongue. You shuddered with an aching cry and trembled from the spasms he sent rippling through you. Your body curled forward as you gripped him tighter, your  fingers pulling on his hair from the pressure.

He removed your leg from his shoulder gently as you continued to shudder, feeling aftershocks of pleasure shiver through you. He got to his feet and helped you stand, pressing himself against your  and nuzzling your neck.

“Holy shit,” you whispered, your voice shaking. your  whole body shaking. “That was incredible.”

“That...was just the prelude,” he whispered, kissing you. “I haven't even started pleasuring you yet.”

God, he was going to kill you. Death by orgasm, you thought happily. What a way to go.

He leaned to turn off the water, but he stilled his hand. He looked back at you with a questioning expression, and then understood. You pulled him back towards yourself and he went willingly, stepping back under the stream of water, kissing you deeply, his hands roaming greedily over your  body.

You weren't done with him. He had made you feel like a goddess, worshiped, cherished, adored.

You broke off the kiss and began trailing your  lips down his neck, his collarbone and chest, enjoying the warmth of the water trickling past your mouth. His chest muscles tensed as you kissed them, and as you moved your  lips slowly down his abdomen you felt his whole body go rigid with anticipation. You sank to your knees in the tub and brushed kisses along his navel, his hip bones, and he put his hands on your shoulders to steady himself. Water coursed over both of you, and you delighted in it, closing your eyes against the spray.

“Baby,” Bucky said softly, barely audible above the water.

You opened your eyes and looked up at him. He was about to say something but you smiled and glanced away, focusing instead on the head of his cock, hard and urgent in front of you. He was thick and beautiful, and still as hard, maybe even harder, than he had been when you'd teased him with your  hands.

“I want to taste you,” you said playfully. “All of you.”

You leaned forward and gently licked the swollen tip of his cock. He inhaled sharply, his whole body tensing, and you smiled up at him, letting him know this was for your  pleasure as much as for his. You swirl your  tongue around the head, taking it into your  mouth and suckling gently, teasing it. The skin was soft and smooth, stretched deliciously tight from the hardness of his erection.

You let your tongue play over it, dipping into the opening, making him moan. You drifted your tongue along the ridge, and down to the sensitive skin just beneath the head, licking and tasting, nipping and kissing.

You looked up at him, and his dark eyes were wild with desire. You smiled, and ran your  tongue up and down the length of him, ending at the head and flicking at it delicately, teasingly. He moaned softly, his breathing starting to grow rapid. You rose up slightly to take the whole length of him into your mouth and sucked him, long and hard.

He let out a gasp and braced himself against the wall with one hand, his other  hand gripping your  shoulder.

“Oh fuck—Baby...”

You slid your mouth over his shaft, deeper, deeper, and slid back up the length of him. Your hands came around and gripped his ass, pulling him towards you. He staggered forward slightly as you took him into your  mouth again, luxuriously taking in his entire length, sucking, licking, tasting as you went. The sensation of him in your mouth was almost as overwhelming as his first entrance into your body had been, so unfamiliar but so right at the same time.

You caressed his balls with one hand as you played your tongue over his cock. He groaned, his breathing jagged now, his cock harder than ever. His hand moved from your  shoulder to sink into your wet hair, and he gripped your head with barely restrained urgency. Gently he guided your head closer to him as you sucked. You lowered yourself onto him and slowly sucked your way back up, your mouth gripping him, your cheeks hollowing, as your tongue slid over him with each pass.

His hips began to move as he started to match your rhythm, thrusting into you, meeting your mouth. Bucky gripped your head more firmly and held your head still, driving into you gently.

You let your hand fall and you sat back on your haunches, enjoying the feeling of him sliding in and out of your mouth, controlling his own pleasure, taking what he wanted, and what you were so willing to give. Yet you could tell he was holding back, wanting to thrust harder and faster but restraining himself and settling for a smoother, slower pace.

For you. Bucky was holding back for your sake. This passionate, soulful, virile man was holding back his own pleasure because he wanted to be gentle with you.

The very thought of it excited you, and you increased your own rhythm, encouraging him, moaning with pleasure as he drove into you. You sucked harder, faster, turning your  gaze up to him with an urgent plea in your  eyes. Faster. Deeper. Now, my love.

And he understood.

Bucky groaned, and stepped forward. His hand clenched in your hair and he began to move, faster and harder, plunging deeper, holding your head as he thrust into your  mouth with urgent, rhythmic strokes. He slid in and out of your mouth as if through warm honey, and you felt and heard his pleasure mounting with every ratcheted breath and every desperate moan that escaped his lips.

His eyes watched your with rapt adoration and abject lust, and you could tell that the sight of your taking him fully into your mouth, of your sucking him with pure, greedy abandon and complete acceptance, was pushing him closer to the edge as much as the intense pleasure of your tongue on his cock was. Or more.

He tensed as his rhythm grew faster, his breathing harder, until you felt him tighten and strain so much that you felt certain he was going to spill himself into your mouth. But at the last moment he cried out and pulled back, his cock slipping out of your  mouth quickly. He stood still, breathless, his eyes closed as if willing his orgasm to retreat. Water sliced down his neck and chest, and finally he let out a slow, jagged moan of a breath and opened his eyes. He looked down at you wildly, and reached for you,helping you to your feet.

“Jesus,” he said breathlessly, staring at you as he tried to catch his breath. “I can't...I can't believe how goddamn good that felt. You brought me so close, so fast, I almost couldn't stop it.”

“Why did you?” you asked, running your  finger along his jaw. “I wanted to feel you come for me.”

He groaned against you, his hands roaming over your  body. “I told you, I'm not nearly done with you yet.”

He kissed you hungrily, his cock surging against your violently as your bodies met. you could feel him moving against you, his cock rubbing against you,and you knew how badly he wanted to be inside you again.

As badly as you wanted him inside you again.

He stepped back, his breath still ragged, and pressed his forehead to yours as he closed his eyes and tried to breathe.

“You're not done yet, huh?” you teased gently, letting your fingers sink into his wet hair as you kissed his neck.

“Not nearly.”

“But I have to go to work. Maybe if I'm lucky you'll be here when I get home?”

“I'm not going anywhere.”

He reached to turn off the water and stepped out of the shower, turning to help your step over the wall of the tub. You threw your robe on and cinched the belt as he dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist. You caught him grinning at you, and it was so clear what he was thinking that it made your  laugh.

“What?” you demanded, squeezing the excess water out of your hair with a hand towel. “What are you smiling at?”

Bucky wetted his lips with his tongue, “Fuck it. You're just going to have to be late for work. Come here…”

“Hey!” your eyes widened playfully, jumping away from him. “Are you trying to kill me? Stop!”

Bucky untied your robe and you yelped, trying to slap his hands away. He just kept advancing on you, grinning devilishly. You turned and scampered away from him with a squeal of delight.

He followed behind, still grasping for the robe. You shrieked and laughed and ran towards the bedroom, and he followed, catching up to you and pushing you onto the bed with a resounding crack of the bed frame.

You laughed as he tumbled on top of you, but he silenced you with his mouth, kissing you hungrily as he impatiently pushed your robe aside. His breath was ragged as he nudged your legs apart with his knee, his need too great for the slow, sensual lovemaking of last night. He held his cock against your entrance and smoothly thrusts into you and moaned against your mouth, and you wrapped your legs around him to draw him deeper.

He plunged into you, covering your body and your mouth with the same hungry possession. You were still so warm and wet, so exquisitely ready for him that he filled you easily, driving you relentlessly as he tasted your tongue, your lips, your neck, and groaned from the pleasure your body was giving him.

You tensed around him and he moaned breathlessly, a throaty, male sound of pure ecstasy. He pounded into you, falling into a steady rhythm born of raw, primitive need. Your body tightened around him with every thrust, and waves of pleasure rippled through you, building in intensity up to an almost unbearable pressure, a delicious heat that made you moan into his mouth as he kissed you.

He rose up, his arms braced beside you, to look down as he stroked and withdrew and breathed out his pleasure while his eyes glowed pure heat. He grabbed your rear, tilting one hip up towards him, entering you  on such an angle that a new kaleidoscope of pleasure bloomed throughout you. He gripped you possessively, driving you deeper and faster and harder. His eyes burned, glowing like obsidian, hot and wild and almost frenzied with desire.

“Baby,” he groaned, his eyes pinning you, claiming you, as though he were branding you with your heat.

You're mine...

You're mine...

Your first time together had only been hours ago, but it was as if you had been lovers for years...every fluid flexing of his hips against you hit just the right spot, every deep, powerful thrust of his cock stretched your pussy with a familiar, almost expected surge of pleasure.

“Yes—oh god yes, Bucky—fuck me,” you breathed.

Two simple words and suddenly he was on the edge...buried so deep inside you, thrusting, plunging, your breasts pressed against his chest, the pleasure roaring through his body.

Suddenly he wanted to take you, hard. He wanted to fuck you with abandon, the eyes-closed, head-back, moaning-out-loud kind of sexual abandon that he had so rarely experienced in his life, but which was crashing through his body and mind right now.

He wanted this woman...he wanted to own you, to take you, to claim your body as his....he wanted to fuck you until he'd emptied his balls into you, feeling your pussy clenching and spasming in orgasm around his cock as he came, as you came, as you came together.

He withdrew from you quickly, barely able to catch his breath, and, as if you could read his thoughts, you turned onto your stomach just as his trembling hands guided your hips over. Your hair spilled over your bare back and your ass curved out so seductively it was all he could do not to cum right there, all over your smooth skin. But his cock knew what it wanted, and he pulled you forward to slide into the heaven of your pussy, so wet and tight and swollen for him.

He cried out when he took your again, his cock parting your folds and filling you so completely. The feel of him stretching you, the crest of his head pressing against your  from this new angle...you felt a tremor of pleasure ripple through you and knew you were close, as close as he was. When he leaned over you and began to kiss your  shoulders you shuddered, and when he began to thrust you buried your face in the pillow and moaned.

Your moans of pleasure filled the room and he squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to last, begging his aching cock not to explode just yet. . .this pace, these quick short strokes as his hips slapped against your ass, your body moving with his every thrust. . .It was almost too much to bear. Bucky buried his faced in your sweet-smelling hair and let his cock plunge as it would, faster and faster, making him shake, making him breathless, making him feel like nothing but a desperate cock as he fucked you.

And fucked you. And fucked you, as you had begged him to...

You could only whimper now, lost to the pleasure of his man taking you like this, fucking you so wildly, almost savagely. The pleasure he was taking from your body, his moans and groans and the growls of pleasure you could feel against your back and in the warm breath at your ear. . . it was pure, primal lust.

You felt worshiped beneath him, as if every thrust of his hungry cock was a tribute to you, every growl and sharp breath an oath. He was fucking you, mindlessly, and yet every part of him was attuned to you, touching you, adoring you.

As his pace grew even faster, his thrusts shallower, you could sense he was about to come, and you felt your muscles tighten around him to heighten his pleasure and hers. His thrusts were so powerful that you felt the orgasm rising in you and you closed your eyes, lifting your head back so he could slide his hand into your hair, gently holding your neck and kissing your jaw with breathy, open-mouthed kisses.

“Oh, God Bucky...I'm coming,” you moaned. “I'm coming.”

“Yes...cum for me baby....cum on my cock.”

“Cum with me....please....I want you to cum inside me, please....please....”

And he could withstand it no more.

Pleasure detonated through him as his orgasm spasmed throughout his body, wracking him with wave after wave of euphoric release. He cried out your name as he thrust and bucked against your flesh, driving his cock deeper and deeper as he came and came and came. It felt like he would never stop cumming, and when he felt your orgasm tear through your pussy and clench his cock in waves, he thought he might black out from the sheer ecstasy of it.

You slammed back against him as the first spurts of cum began to fill you, and felt your  ravaged pussy begin to spasm again and again, milking his cock, pulling his cum deeper into you, flooding you with ripples of pleasure. You moaned and writhed, riding the crest of one orgasm only to feel a second one begin to climb and then crash over you. Breathless, almost sobbing from the pleasure, you let him hold you as he continued to pound into you, draining his balls into you at his will, lost in the utter bliss of a man taking a woman in the most primal way.

When he could bear it no longer, when his exquisitely sensitive cock throbbed within you and the pleasure bordered on pain, he stilled, finally, and shuddered. Sharp spasms of pleasure shot through him as his cock surged one last time within you, his aching balls emptying every last ounce of come. Bucky was almost lightheaded, his chest heaving, sweat glazing his skin as he withdrew his hand from your hair and ran it down the center of your back, needing to touch you, needing to feel your heated skin. You were breathless too, your back moving beneath his hand as you lay your head down and tried to catch your breath.

You felt him withdraw from you, and your  pussy rebelled, clenching to keep him there, as if pleading with him not to go. Bucky groaned softly against your ear as he pulled out and fell on the bed beside you, his arms surrounding you and pulling your back against him. You fit perfectly together, and every muscle in your body relaxed as you snuggled into him and breathed out a contented sigh. You felt his lips on the shell of your ear, kissing softly, felt his slowing breath against your skin as his soft sounds of contentment and pleasure hummed in his throat.

This is heaven, you thought. Pure heaven. your pussy twitched and tingled as you felt his warm come beginning to slip down your  inner thighs. His strong arms surrounded you, his soft lips murmured and whispered and kissed, his spent cock nestled against the curve of your ass.

“There was something I wanted to tell you, remember?” he murmurs, his words brushing warmly against your skin as he kisses a path down to your shoulder. “Last night… something I wanted to say to you. Something I wanted you to know.”

You shift slightly, turning to look at him, your heart pounding as you search his eyes, barely able to breathe. 

“Tell me,” you whisper, your voice almost a plea.

His gaze softens, an unmistakable warmth filling his expression as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek. 

“I love you.”

The words settle between you, simple but perfect, like they were always meant to be there. Your heart feels like it’s soaring, every nerve in your body alive with the thrill of it, of finally hearing what you’d been aching to hear.

You break into a smile, biting your lip, feeling giddy and light, and without a second thought, you lean forward, kissing him softly, your hand finding his as you whisper back, “I love you too.”

And as he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you with a tenderness that feels like home, you realize that, for the first time, everything feels right.

tags: @cereal6666 @thatesqcrush @cl7ire @bighappypiels @mostlymarvelgirl

@winchestert101 @winterslove1917 @hzdhrtss @mcira @elvenrin

@xunquish-blog @meetmeattheapt

[polly-sly]

I scream when some of them start following me BACK 😭 💚

I hope fanfiction writers know that I think of them like celebrities

I literally scream a little bit whenever one of them interacts with a comment i made on one of their posts like they are literally famous in my mind

thank you fanfiction writers you are literally sometimes the only thing keeping me alive 

[hollowwrites]

Ignorance is Bliss

Summary - Continuing my rewrite of things but this is totally made up. I think its unbelievable that we forgive Seb after Ignorant-gate so quickly but maybe that’s because I’m an Ominis girly. So this is my justification

This has made me so sad to do I don’t like when people don’t get on…I genuinely must be the softest Slytherin in the planet

Warnings - mentions of Crucio, Angst, our bois just being shouty at each other

Word Count - 2408

~

Sebastian had not slept in the dorms for weeks.

Though the peace and quiet at night was enjoyable for Ominis, the eerie sound of silence caused a sickening pit to bore into his stomach. It only grew the more nights that went by.

Since he had cast Crucio on Evelyn, he’d become somewhat manic. Missing classes, skipping meals, holing himself away in the Undercroft for hours at an end to the point where no one had seen him for a couple of days.

Ominis didn’t even know if he was sleeping.

It had gotten harder and harder to maintain an ‘eye’ on the mischievous Slytherin. Ominis needed to know where he was originally to be able to tail him and with him skipping lessons, not coming back to the dorms and Evelyn now not talking to him, Ominis’ only hope was hopefully catching him in the halls. Hear his voice, Smell his cologne…anything.

He was left with nothing.

Last he spoke to Evelyn, he could feel her animosity, despite him imploring her, he had no idea what had gone on between the two of them. She couldn’t help but feel hurt towards the two of them. After all, they were a package deal and no matter how close they had become, Ominis was Sebastian’s friend before hers.

That’s how it would always be.

“He’s your friend Ominis” She snapped accusatorially, poking a boney finger into his chest before turning on her heels and walking away from him.

“Evelyn, please. I am not blind to his faults. Tell me what he did” he strode after her, not needing his wand to track her down. The heavy stomp of her feet was enough to locate her weaving path through the oncoming students.

“He dragged me off somewhere dangerous, as usual, under the guise of helping me and then turned it all back on me.” She stopped and faced him again “Making it about himself and…and Anne” she didn’t mean to sound bitter. But a tiny part of her now resented Anne. From the one conversation they had, she seemed lovely but…sometimes she wanted help from Sebastian, without him guilting her into helping his sister.

Evelyn sighed in frustration before turning to leave. Ominis grabbed her arm, pulling her back to him a little, keeping a firm and solid grip on her elbow.

“Don’t touch me” Evelyn spat, shaking him off her violently “And you can tell Sebastian, he doesn’t have to worry about my Ignorance anymore.”

~

Now, Ominis waited the one place he knew Sebastian would return to.

The Undercroft.

He stood with his back pressed against the cold stone for a few hours before finally the ancient clunk of the Undercrofts cupboard rang down the hall and into the large cavernous room.

Moments later, the distinct heavy footsteps of Sebastian filled his ears. His familiar scent moved by him, though it was murky, like the cologne was wearing off and he hadn’t reapplied it or it lay dormant under the stagnant musk of his robes.

Ominis intended to confront his friend about his absense. Teachers had begun approaching The Young Gaunt with fear for his best friends mental state. But he had nothing for them.

However, as he pushed himself off the stone wall to approach Sebastian, he only had one question for him;

“You called her Ignorant?” Ominis’ authoritative tone suddenly making him known

“Merlin’s beard Ominis! You can’t just sneak up on people like that…” Sebastian jumped, and Ominis could hear his heart beat quicken. He recovered quickly and stood his ground "How did you know I was here?"

“Where else would you be?” Ominis’ tone was sharp and accusatory

"I just…need some time to sort through this Spellbook" Sebastian said coolly, his mind thinking back to the Scriptorium…

And Evelyns screams…

And how her attitude completely changed around him after that night.

Sebastian’s heart broke a little at the thought. He recognised the feeling from when he first witnessed Anne have an episode.

An episode brought on by a Goblin curse.

Goblins that Evelyn was perfectly happy to commune with.

"Alone. Is that against the rules?" Sebastian spat his anger returning once more

“No” Ominis said coolly “But what is against the rules, is insulting your friends who are trying their hardest to help you!”

"It seems only right that I'm allowed to speak my mind to someone who speaks it so often to me." Sebastian bristled, his eyes narrowing slightly in a way that would have made most people back down, but not Ominis.

“So it’s true? You called her Ignorant?” Ominis asked genuinely. He wanted it to be a lie. For Sebastian to say ‘Oh No it was a misunderstanding. I accepted Eves help and Anne is cured’ but Ominis had never been that optimistic and he no longer felt like he knew Sebastian. His oldest friend…and he stood before him, a stranger

"She is ignorant," Sebastian shot back. He was feeling the frustration that had been building up for weeks, months. His shoulders twitched as he stood his ground. "If she wasn't, she would have known approaching a Goblin for assistance was the last possible thing I would want. If she had even a shred of intelligence…" Even saying it out loud was cathartic.

“She was trying to help you!” Ominis snapped “She went out of her way to find you a contact that could help your sister and because it’s Goblin you refused? Pitiful”

"What do you know?" he spat back. "Nothing. You have no idea what I've had to deal with. My sister is dying and instead of helping me, she just sends me to some stranger she's known for a few months?"

“Don’t lie to me” Ominis rolled his eyes “It isn’t that she sent you to a stranger…it’s that she sent you a Goblin…”

"Yes!" He snapped. "Would you trust one of them? They cursed my sister!" He was almost shouting at this point. "I won't let a Goblin help me. She had no right to go behind my back lik-"

“Behind your back?” Ominis’ face twisted in disgust “You’re not the centre of the universe, Sebastian. She didn’t do all of that for you. She has her own life, her own situations that she’s dealing with and she thought she could help” Ominis’ wand flashed faster as it gave a more detailed description of his surroundings. Everything just felt hostile, the walls felt closer than usual, the stone pillar seemed to buckle and bend around him in this bubble of pain and hate.

"Her situations? How about my situation? How about my sister's situation?” He spat selfishly “I have a right to be angry. Anyone would, but because it's me, I'm not supposed to feel it, I'm just supposed to put on a brave face and suffer all my problems in silence, right?" Sebastian took a step closer to Ominis, his hurt and anger and pain washing over him in droves.

“No one is saying that…” Ominis said confused. He felt his face twisting into a mask of cynicism and he had to fight against his natural instincts to not outwardly show his emotions. Sebastian was fragile right now…anything could set him off “…what I’m saying is she tried to help you and instead of politely declining because of your, frankly, idiot prejudices, you called her ignorant and made her question everything about your friendship.” Ominis thought back to the conversation he had with Evelyn and how angry she sounded. How broken she must have felt knowing one of the two people she was friends with here, now despised her.

A small part of him was angry with Sebastian for causing a rift between himself and Eve, but he pushed that deep down. That wasn’t a converstion to be had right now.

"Politely declining?" Sebastian snorted, his voice like acid. "How was I supposed to do that? 'Oh, I appreciate your help and I'm sure your filthy goblin friend is wonderful, but sorry I don’t really want to accept help from the people who did this to her. You understand, right?' Was that how you expected me to react?"

“Don’t be so dramatic, Sebastian” Ominis folded his arms across his chest, a clear sign he was tired of Sebastian excuses and jabs.

"Oh, sorry, I forgot. I'm supposed to suffer all this in silence because the alternative just makes people uncomfortable, right? The alternative makes everyone happy…but me." Sebastian took a step towards Ominis himself, his chest heaving at the thought of doing…nothing. His Uncle would be so pleased to finally have a neutered Sebastian, his sister would fade to nothing and he’d mill along to his classes doing just enough to stay at the school. What a marvellous existence. "Have any other sage advice?" he asked sarcastically

“Suffer in Silence?” Ominis laughed darkly “You have dragged both me and her through hell with you. You forced me to to tell you my family secrets, you cast Crucio on her, the pain she must have felt, I have gotten you out of countless detentions” Ominis paused “…that is not suffering in silence. We have banded around you and you are throwing it back in our faces” Ominis sighed “Truly I am sorry about what is happening with Anne…but don’t lose everyone around you too”

"You want to talk about hell? My life is hell. Ever since that night in Feldcroft, I've had nightmares every single night. I haven't had a good night's sleep in months. When I look in a mirror…all I see is her” Sebastian looked into Ominis's eyes, the pools of blue always had an indescribable way of showing emotion. "If it weren't for you, if it wasn't for…Evelyn, I'd have nothing. But that doesn't change the fact that I will do whatever it takes to save my sister and I refuse to give up, even if it means being hated by you"

“Hated? I would never hate you…” Ominis narrowed his eyes “What are you planning?”

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing! That's the entire problem, Ominis! I haven't done half of what I want do to save my sister! I'm playing this safe. I'm being nice! Polite! And what do you think that got me?" Sebastian began pacing as his anger grew.

“You’re delusional…safe? Nice? We were trapped inside Salazar Slytherins Scriptorium and still would be. You used an Unforgivable Curse to get us out” Ominis’ eyes were wide, was his friend truly so far gone? “Evelyn was in pain for days, Sebastian. We were not safe…it was not nice”

"Don't lecture me, Ominis!” Sebastian looked down, Evelyns screams ringing in his head. As he closed his eyes, the incantations for other curses and Unforgivables floated towards the forefront of his mind

“I could do much worse” he whispered darkly “I would happily throw everything away if it means saving Anne." Sebastian stopped pacing directly in front of Ominis. "Why is that so hard for you to understand?"

“Sebastian, you’re not listening to me.” Ominis ran his hand through his hair “I love Anne…I understand I really do but pushing Evelyn away will not help Anne. Listen to her, she is a capable witch…and she is trying so hard…for you”

"She's trying to help me because it benefits her too, let's not fool ourselves" Sebastian said with a bitter laugh. He paused "You've met her, what…six months ago?" Sebastian narrowed his eyes. "Sure, she's a 'capable witch' but you can't possibly know who she really is. You can't make that call for me."

“Explain to me, Sebastian, how helping you has benefited her” Ominis’ anger flared again. How dare he speak of her like that.

"Oh she hasn’t told you? Maybe you’re not as close as you thought” Sebastian sneered as though he was getting some sort of sick thrill out of Evelyn being closer with him. “She has all these grand adventures…and when she needs help, she asks me” Sebastian looks down muttering “Coming here in her fifth year, no family, no friends, with all of those eyes on her and special attention…she thinks she’s important-“

“She is important” Ominis snapped turning to walk away and then stopped “…and your friendship is not the only one she has!! You two are not the only ones without family and you are not the only one who can provide her with support!”

"Oh," he muttered and smirked. Ominis could feel his sudden shift into arrogance from a mile away "So that's what this is about... You're in love with her."

“Oh for Merlin’s sake…” Ominis began pacing “You are impossible lately”

"What? It's true, isn't it?" Ominis felt Sebastian circling him “She had a hold on you from the get go. Remember how you go so upset because you weren’t the one to show her the Undercroft? Remember how you snapped at me in Charms for asking her to Hogsmeade?”

“You’re ridiculous” Ominis stated coldly

"Am I?" Sebastian smiled sinisterly "You spend all day together. You' listen to every word of what she says. You even seem to be taking her on these outings to the village without me. What kind of impression do you think one might draw from all that?"

“That she is the only friend I have left since you’ve left me!” Ominis’ anger and betrayal all came flooding out. If he hadn’t have spent years emotionally blocking himself off from everyone, he may have cried

Sebastian was taken aback.

He’d done stupid things but Ominis had never spoken to him like that

"What- since I've done what now?"

“All you do is read, and research, and hole yourself away. I’m losing you…I miss you” Ominis’ stoic face cracked and the slightest bit of emotion bled through “It feels like I’ve lost Anne and You…and all I have left is her…”

There was a pause. Sebastian looked like he didn't know what to say. A look of quiet realisation slowly crossed his face.

"I have neglected you" he stated. "It's just... difficult."

“I understand…” Ominis made no movements toward Sebastian, no further arguements. He was tired.

“I will apologise to Evelyn…” Sebastian muttered "but I just don't think she'll forgive me." He looked up at Ominis. "She…thinks I’m manipulative” he exhaled a sharp laugh through his nose “…I was- am. If I came back with an apology, won’t she just think I’m playing nice for my own selfish reasons?"

“I’ll talk to her”

Masterlist

[thebarneschronicles]

Nine Lives

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 9.4k

Synopsis: Bucky Barnes drives you insane—in every possible way. The bickering, the reckless plans, the way he smirks like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. But when a mission goes sideways, leaving you both bloodied and too close for comfort, the tension between you ignites into something impossible to ignore.

You can keep pretending. Keep fighting him. But Bucky isn’t one to back down—especially when he knows you don’t really want him to.

Trigger Warnings: Bullet wounds, unprotect sex (wrap it before you tap it!), p in v, dirty talk, BUCKY BARNES (he needs his own warning)

Author’s Note: I had been tinkering with a few scenes in this and the Thunderbolts trailer made me finish it. Hope you like it! B x

-- Bucky Barnes was going to be the death of you.

Whether it was because he got on your last nerve or because you were desperately, irrevocably, undeniably in love with him—either way, he’d be the reason your heart stopped beating.

And honestly? It might happen in the next five minutes. Because God help you, the man was insufferable.

The room smelled like burnt coffee and bad decisions.

Sam stood at the front, gesturing at a holographic map as he laid out the mission plan, his voice steady and patient—too patient, the way a parent speaks when they know their kids are about to cause problems.

You were paying attention. You really were. But out of the corner of your eye, you could see Bucky leaning against the wall, arms crossed– and looking bored out of his mind.

Every once in a while, he flicked his gaze to you, not saying anything. Just watching.

And you knew that look. That I’m about to do something reckless and you’re going to yell at me for it look.

You gritted your teeth.

“—we’ll go in through the east entrance,” Sam continued, pointing at the building layout. “Stealth is key. No unnecessary attention.”

Bucky made a quiet sound. It wasn’t quite a scoff, but it was close enough.

Sam’s jaw flexed. “Got something to add, Barnes?”

Bucky shrugged, like the whole thing was barely worth his effort. “I just think you’re overcomplicating it.”

Your brows shot up. Oh, here we go.

Sam closed his eyes, visibly counting to ten. “What part is complicated?”

Bucky shifted, pushing off the wall. “The part where we’re tiptoeing around like we’re on a damn field trip. We go in, take out the threats, get what we need. Done.”

You turned in your chair, slowly. “Take out the threats?”

Bucky smirked. “What?”

“What?” you repeated, voice rising. “You mean brute force? Like some kind of rabid raccoon?”

Sam sighed deeply, rubbing his temples.

Bucky grinned, which somehow made it worse. “I’d say more wolf, but sure.”

Your grip tightened on the edge of the table. “Barnes, if you go off-script, I swear to God—”

“Relax, doll,” he said, casual as anything. “I’ll mostly follow the plan.”

Your eye twitched. “Mostly?”

Sam exhaled sharply, muttering to himself. “I should start charging overtime for this.”

Bucky wasn’t done, though—he turned that damn smirk back on you. “You do love bossing me around, don’t you?”

And that? That was the last straw.

Your chair scraped against the floor as you stood, planting your hands on your hips. “We are sticking to the plan, Barnes. No improvising. No wandering off. No turning this into some solo hero death mission.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, inhaling through gritted teeth as you fought for patience you absolutely did not have. “Why is your solution to everything brute force? Sam has a plan. A good plan. A plan that does not involve you punching your way through every obstacle.”

Bucky folded his arms across his broad chest, looking completely unfazed. If anything, he seemed amused. “First of all, rude. Second of all, my way works.”

“You mean it works when it doesn’t get us killed?” you shot back, voice rising. “Which, by the way, is not a guarantee.”

His mouth twitched like he was trying not to grin. “C’mon, doll, you’re overreacting.”

And there it was. That goddamn nickname.

You felt it like a spark in your bloodstream, a rush of heat you refused to acknowledge. Instead, you rolled your eyes so hard they nearly got stuck. “Don’t ‘doll’ me, Barnes. I’m serious. We are sticking to the plan.”

“I am sticking to the plan,” he said, far too casually. “I’m just… modifying it.”

Your jaw dropped. “Modifying it?”

“Enhancing.”

“You mean ignoring it?”

He shrugged and you had never wanted to strangle and kiss someone in equal measure more in your life.

God, this man was going to be the death of you.

You took a slow, deep breath, curling your fingers into fists at your sides. “Bucky. No modifications. No enhancements. No Barnes-ifying the plan.”

He tilted his head, looking irritatingly pleased with himself. “Barnes-ifying? Huh. I kinda like that.”

You threw your hands in the air. “Of course you do.”

Sam, who had been observing this entire exchange with the long-suffering patience of a saint, let out a loud sigh. “Are you two done? Or should we clear the room so you can work out all that tension?”

Your head snapped toward him. “There is no tension.”

Bucky, the absolute menace that he was, had the audacity to murmur, “Oh, there’s tension.”

Your entire body went rigid. Your face felt hot. You whirled back to him, pointing an accusing finger at his chest. “I will kill you.”

His lips twitched. “I’d love to see you try, doll.”

You weren’t sure what infuriated you more—the way he said it— doll —like it was his own private joke, or the fact that you liked it. Loved it, even. That it sent a pulse of something traitorous through you, something that made you want to either punch him or grab him by the collar and—

No. Focus.

You squared your shoulders, planting your hands on your hips. “Here’s what’s going to happen, Barnes. You’re going to follow the plan. No making things up as you go along. Got it?”

His blue eyes glinted with something unreadable. “And what if I don’t?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Then I’ll personally make sure you regret it.”

Bucky grinned, slow and wicked. “Kinda looking forward to that.”

Your breath hitched. Your brain short-circuited. You opened your mouth, then shut it again, because there was absolutely nothing appropriate to say to that.

Oh. Oh, that son of a—

Bucky chuckled, clearly enjoying the way he’d just rendered you speechless. Then he leaned in just slightly, voice dropping to something low and smug.

“Face it, doll,” he murmured. “You’d miss me if I was gone.”

You scoffed, even as your stomach flipped. “I’d miss arguing with you. That’s it.”

“Mm-hmm.”

The knowing look on his face made you want to smack it off. But more than that, it made you want to—

Nope. Not going there.

You exhaled sharply, turning on your heel. “I’m done. Sam, let’s go before I change my mind and let him get himself killed.”

Sam snorted, giving Bucky a pointed look. “See what you did? Now you’ve pissed her off.”

Bucky only smirked, watching you walk away. “Nah,” he said, mostly to himself. “She likes it.”

—

You didn’t like it.

Not one bit.

And do you know why? Because you knew—knew—he wasn’t lying.

Bucky Barnes didn’t say things he didn’t mean. He wasn’t the type to play games with words, wasn’t the type to tease just for the hell of it. If he said there was tension, if he said you’d miss him, then he meant it. He knew.

He knew before you did.

And that was the worst part.

You had no idea when your constant bickering turned into something else, something deeper, something dangerous. One day, you thought you hated him—the next, you realized you couldn’t imagine a world without him in it.

It had terrified you.

So you fought.

You fought harder, argued louder, refused to let him see just how deeply he had burrowed into you. You clashed over the stupidest things—his reckless plans, his stubbornness, the way he called you doll like it was a secret between you. Because if you didn’t fight, if you let the walls slip for even a second, you weren’t sure what would happen.

And it infuriated you.

How dare he?

How dare he make himself at home in a corner of your heart you didn’t even know existed? How dare he take up permanent residence there, until that tiny space expanded into the whole damn thing?

How dare he make you want him when you were supposed to be angry at him?

How. Dare. He.

The memory took over before you could stop it…

It had been a disaster from the start.

The mission was supposed to be a simple recon—go in, get intel, get out. No unnecessary engagement. No close calls. No getting shot.

But Bucky Barnes? He didn’t believe in simple.

You were fuming as you dragged him into the safe house, your grip tight on his arm, ignoring the way his blood seeped through your gloves. He was bleeding all over the place, but of course, he still had the audacity to smirk at you.

“You’re manhandling me, doll.” His voice was rough, teasing. “If you wanted to get handsy, you could’ve just asked.”

You pushed him down onto the rickety cot in the corner, none too gently. “I swear to God, Barnes, if you don’t shut up, I will make your injuries worse.”

Bucky groaned dramatically as he flopped back, far too casual for someone who had just taken a bullet to the shoulder. “You’re so mean to me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry—should I be nice to the guy who just got himself shot?” You tore open the med kit, grabbing a pair of scissors and snipping at the sleeve of his tactical suit. 

Bucky’s smirk vanished. “Hey, whoa—this is a perfectly good jacket.”

“You’ve bled through half of it, Bucky!” You glared at him, slicing the fabric open with zero hesitation.

Bucky scowled. “Still wearable.”

“Still ruined.”

“You’re ruining it more.”

“Oh my God—do you wanna keep arguing, or do you want me to keep you from bleeding out you reckless, metal-armed asshole?”

Bucky huffed a laugh, because of course he did, the sound painfully casual. “Little dramatic, don’t you think?”

Your hands shook as you tore open the med kit, fingers fumbling over the supplies. “Shut up.”

“Oh, come on, doll, it’s just a—”

“Don’t you dare say ‘scratch.’”

Bucky sighed, dropping his head back onto the cot. “I’m not bleeding out.”

“You got shot, you dick,” you snapped, peeling the fabric away to get a better look at the wound. Through and through, just above his bicep. A clean hit, but it would scar if you didn’t take care of it properly.

Bucky peered at the wound like it was barely an inconvenience. “It is just a scratch.”

Your eye twitched. You gritted your teeth, pressing an antiseptic wipe to the wound with zero mercy.

Bucky hissed, body tensing as he glared at you. “Jesus—are you trying to kill me?”

“Oh, now you feel pain?” You didn’t let up, pressing a little harder just for good measure. “You didn’t seem too concerned when you ran into a hail of gunfire like a rabid golden retriever with a death wish.”

Bucky scoffed. “Golden retriever?”

“You just charged in, Bucky! What part of ‘stealth mission’ do you not understand?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I had to.”

“No, you didn’t!” You grabbed a fresh gauze pad, pressing it against the wound. “Sam and I were handling it just fine before you decided to be stupidly heroic.”

“Doll, you were cornered,” Bucky argued.

“No, I was waiting for backup.”

Bucky gave you a pointed look. “You were outnumbered and had a jammed weapon.”

You locked your jaw. Because okay, maybe that was true.

But he didn’t have to jump in front of a bullet for you.

You cleared your throat, trying to sound unimpressed. “I was fine.”

“You were two seconds away from getting shot.”

“I know, Bucky!” You slammed the antiseptic wipe against his skin, not caring when he hissed. “But you didn’t have to—you didn’t—you— I told you not to do it!” you cried out. “But no, you just had to go full Terminator and jump in front of a goddamn bullet for me—”

You stopped.

Because suddenly, your throat was too tight, and your breath was coming too fast, and you hated that the panic was winning, that it was spilling over.

You weren’t just mad.

You were terrified.

Bucky blinked at you, actually looking concerned now, which only pissed you off more.

“Doll—”

“You think you’re indestructible, don’t you?” You threw the used gauze aside, grabbing another one, your hands shaking as you pressed it to the wound. “Just because you have the serum, you think you can—can take all these stupid risks—”

Bucky sighed, clearly exasperated. “I heal faster than you do, sweetheart. It’s not that deep.”

Something inside you snapped.

“Oh, fuck you, Bucky!”

His eyebrows shot up at that.

“You think the serum makes you invincible?” you seethed, eyes burning. “Is that why you keep throwing yourself into danger? Why you never hesitate before taking a hit? Why you jump in front of bullets like it’s your damn job?”

Bucky opened his mouth, but you weren’t done.

“Guess what, Barnes? The serum doesn’t make you immortal! One day, your dumbass luck is going to run out! And what then?”

Bucky stilled, blue eyes searching yours.

But you were unraveling too fast to stop now.

“I swear to God, Bucky, I’m gonna lose my mind if you keep—” You sucked in a shaky breath, voice cracking. “I can’t—I can’t keep watching you do this to yourself.”

Something changed in Bucky’s face. The teasing, the smirking—it all vanished.

You didn’t want to see whatever was in his eyes.

You dropped your gaze, fingers moving on autopilot, taping the bandage down over his shoulder. Your hands wouldn’t stop shaking, but you pretended not to notice.

You felt him watching you.

For the first time since the mission, Bucky was quiet.

The weight of it pressed against your chest.

You swallowed hard, clearing your throat. “Just—just try not to die next time, okay?”

Bucky let out a slow breath, something almost amused slipping into his voice. “Not really my style, doll.”

You snapped your head up, narrowing your eyes at him. “Yeah, I noticed. You’ve got a real stubborn track record of coming back from the brink of death.”

Bucky grinned, slow and lazy, like he couldn’t help himself. “What can I say? I’m persistent.”

Your jaw tensed.

“Yeah? Well, I don’t want to be the one watching you zero out your nine lives.”

The smirk disappeared.

A flicker of something serious passed through his eyes—so fast you almost missed it.

For a second, you thought he was going to say something that would change everything.

But then, as quickly as it came, he shoved it away.

He exhaled a soft chuckle instead, shaking his head. “You worry too much.”

You clenched your jaw, standing abruptly. “And you don’t worry enough.”

Bucky watched you, his expression unreadable.

You grabbed the med kit and turned away, before he could see just how badly your hands were still shaking.

Because the truth was—

You weren’t sure what scared you more.

The fact that Bucky Barnes kept coming back from the brink of death—

Or the fact that, one day, he might not.

–

You exhaled sharply, shoving the memory aside.

No. Not thinking about that.

You couldn’t.

Because if you let yourself sit with it for too long—

If you let yourself acknowledge how much he meant to you—

You weren’t sure how you were supposed to breathe through it.

Bucky must have sensed the shift in you, because as you stalked ahead, fuming, he was suddenly there—keeping pace beside you, his presence entirely too much. Too close, too solid, too him.

“You’re quiet,” he murmured. “That’s never a good sign.”

“Maybe I just ran out of things to say,” you snapped, not looking at him.

He made a low sound, somewhere between a scoff and a chuckle. “That’ll be the day.”

You whirled on him before you could stop yourself, jabbing a finger into his chest. “Do you enjoy driving me insane, Barnes? Is it, like, a hobby for you?”

His lips twitched, that damn smirk already forming. “I mean… yeah. Kinda.”

You let out a frustrated noise, turning on your heel, ready to put as much distance between you and that insufferable smirk as possible. But before you could take two steps, his fingers curled around your wrist—gentle, but firm enough to stop you in your tracks.

The warmth of his skin against yours sent a jolt through you. His grip wasn’t rough, wasn’t forceful, but it was steady, intentional. And for a split second, you couldn’t breathe.

When you looked up, his blue eyes were locked onto yours, unreadable, intense.

“I’m not trying to drive you insane,” he said, his voice softer now, but laced with something heavier, something that made your chest feel tight. “I’m just trying to figure out why you won’t admit it.”

You swallowed, pulse hammering. “Admit what?”

Bucky tilted his head slightly, studying you like he was searching for something, peeling back layers you weren’t ready to let him see. His gaze dragged over your face, lingering—too long—on your lips before flicking back up.

Your breath hitched.

He was going to say something else. You knew it. Could feel it. But whatever he saw in your expression made him change his mind at the last second. His features shifted, the quiet determination giving way to something smug, teasing. A deflection.

“That it’s a good plan.”

Your pulse stuttered.

This wasn’t what he wanted to say. Not even close.

But he was giving you an out. Letting you pretend, letting himself pretend, like this was still just another argument. Another round of your never-ending bickering instead of… whatever the hell this was becoming.

And that? That scared you more than anything.

“It’s not,” you shot back, seizing the escape he’d handed you. You took a step back, yanking your wrist free of his grasp. “It’s stupid. It’s reckless, and it’s going to get one or all of us hurt if we do it.”

Bucky’s jaw tensed, his smirk faltering for the first time. His eyes darkened, something unreadable flickering in them before he asked, voice quieter, but rougher—”Why do you never take my side?”

The question hit like a sucker punch.

It knocked the breath from your lungs, left you reeling in a way you hadn’t expected.

“I—” The words caught in your throat.

He wasn’t teasing now. Wasn’t throwing out some cocky remark just to get under your skin. This was something real, something raw, and it left you woozy.

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Second time I’ve got you speechless today, huh? Must be a new record.”

His voice was light, teasing again, but the look in his eyes said something else entirely.

Then, before you could recover, before you could shove something sharp and defensive between you, he turned and walked ahead—leaving you standing there, heart racing, breath unsteady.

Completely, utterly furious at him.

And even more furious at yourself.

Your hands curled into fists at your sides, nails digging into your palms as you forced yourself to breathe. In. Out. Don’t let him get to you.

Except he had. He always did. And the worst part? He knew it.

You glared at the back of his head as he walked ahead like nothing had happened, like he hadn’t just thrown you completely off balance and left you scrambling for solid ground.

Why do you never take my side?

You hated that the question still echoed in your head. That it stung in a way you weren’t ready to unpack.

You stormed after him, your boots crunching against the pavement. “Barnes, we’re not done talking about this.”

He didn’t stop, didn’t even turn around. “Seemed pretty done to me.”

Your jaw clenched. “God, you are infuriating.”

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned that once or twice.” He threw a glance over his shoulder, his smirk still in place, but his eyes? His eyes were still sharp, still waiting.

You caught up to him in two quick strides, grabbing his arm to yank him to a stop. “Don’t walk away from me.”

Bucky arched a brow, glancing down at where your fingers gripped the sleeve of his jacket. “Thought you couldn’t stand being near me, doll.”

You ignored the way your stomach flipped at the nickname. Ignored the way your traitorous hand lingered for a second before you let go.

“That plan of yours?” You crossed your arms, tilting your chin up. “It’s reckless. And you know it.”

His smirk faded, just slightly. “And what if reckless is the only option?”

“That’s bullshit, and you know that too.”

Bucky let out a slow exhale, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I get it. You think I’m some idiot who just punches his way through problems—”

“I know you are,” you shot back.

He glared at you, jaw ticking. “But maybe—just maybe—I actually know what I’m doing this time.”

You opened your mouth, ready to argue, but something in his expression stopped you.

There was no smugness, no teasing. Just raw frustration, something worn down underneath.

You stared at him, chest rising and falling too fast, the words dying on your tongue.

“Right,” Bucky muttered, shaking his head. “Should’ve known better than to expect you to trust me.”

The words weren’t loud. He wasn’t even looking at you when he said them. But they landed like a slap.

Your breath caught. “That’s not—”

“Forget it.” 

— 

Shockingly, Bucky had followed Sam’s plan.

And—even more shockingly—it had gone wrong.

In the end, brute force had been the only way to get all three of you out alive.

You weren’t sure when the dust had settled, when the ringing in your ears had finally faded enough for you to hear your own breathing again. But when your vision cleared, Bucky was still standing.

Standing over a pile of bodies, bloodied and exhausted, his chest heaving with exertion.

There was a split in his lip, a gash across his forehead, and a bullet graze along his ribs, the fabric of his tactical suit dark with blood.

And you hated it.

You hated how your stomach twisted at the sight of him hurt. Hated the way your fingers curled into fists at your sides to stop yourself from running to him, from touching him, from grabbing his face and checking.

Most of all, you hated that you had doubted him.

Bucky Barnes had a century of combat experience. He had spent his entire life surviving fights he shouldn’t have walked away from, and still, you had dismissed him. Still, you had refused to listen.

And now? Now all of you were bleeding. All of you were shaken.

But the worst part—the part that made your throat tighten and your breath shudder—was that Bucky wasn’t even gloating.

No smirk. No I told you so.

Just silence. Just his sharp, assessing gaze, scanning the aftermath like he was still bracing for another fight.

By the time Torres had you all back on the plane, you were shaking.

The adrenaline should have worn off by now, but the weight in your chest only grew heavier. You knew—you knew—Bucky would heal faster than you or Sam. Logically, you understood that.

But logic wasn’t stopping the tightness in your throat when your eyes landed on the bruising around his temple.

It wasn’t stopping the way your fingers trembled as you grabbed the first aid kit and sat down in front of him, against every warning screaming in your head.

Bucky exhaled slowly, tilting his head back against the seat. “I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding,” you shot back, voice sharper than intended.

“So are you.”

You ignored that. “Just—hold still.”

For once, he didn’t argue. But when you reached for him, when your fingers ghosted over his skin, his gaze flickered—just for a second—to your hands.

He noticed.

Noticed the tremor in your fingers, the way they weren’t steady.

His brows drew together, just slightly. He didn’t say anything, but you felt his stare, felt the question lingering on the tip of his tongue.

Your breath hitched. You curled your fingers tighter around the antiseptic wipe, focusing too hard on dabbing at the cut on his forehead.

When he flinched, you huffed. “Big bad super soldier can take on twenty guys at once but can’t handle a little stinging?”

His lips twitched, but the teasing was half-hearted. “Not my fault you’re rough.”

You shot him a look. “I wonder why.”

His jaw flexed. “You do like making things difficult.”

“Oh, I make things difficult?” You shook your head, pressing a little too firmly as you cleaned the wound. “I don’t remember me running in headfirst with zero regard for a plan.”

Bucky scoffed. “Right, because your plan went so well.”

You froze, fingers stilling against his skin.

His voice hadn’t been sharp, but the words still landed heavy in your chest.

“You didn’t have to follow it,” you murmured.

Bucky let out a slow breath. “Yeah. Well. I did.”

Silence stretched between you, thick and weighted.

You forced yourself to move again, forced yourself to focus on the cut rather than the way his eyes lingered.

Your throat was dry when you spoke. “You were right.”

His expression didn’t change, but you felt the shift in the air.

“We should have done it your way,” you admitted, barely above a whisper.

Bucky’s fingers curled over the edge of the seat. He didn’t speak, didn’t move, but you knew he was watching you.

Finally, he exhaled, his voice quiet. “Didn’t do us much good, did it?”

You pressed your lips together. “Would’ve gone a lot worse if you hadn’t stepped in.”

His eyes flickered. His jaw worked, like he wanted to argue but didn’t have the energy for it.

“You don’t have to say that,” he murmured.

“I do.” Your voice wavered, but you swallowed hard, pushing through it. “Because I was wrong.”

Bucky was still. Unreadable.

Then, after a beat, his voice dropped lower. “That an apology?”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no real fire behind it. “Don’t push your luck, Barnes.”

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Wouldn’t dream of it, doll.”

But his eyes? His eyes told a different story.

—

The hum of the jet was steady beneath you, the vibrations deep in your bones, but it did nothing to ground you. The cabin lights were low, throwing long shadows across the metal walls. Sam was already passed out in the back, his breathing even, the tension from the mission finally easing from his shoulders.

You should be doing the same. You should be closing your eyes, letting exhaustion take over, shutting out the memory of the chaos you’d just escaped from.

But you couldn’t.

Because Bucky was still watching you.

He sat across from you, silent and unreadable, his blue eyes darker in the dim light. He hadn’t spoken since you finished patching him up, but he hadn’t stopped looking, either.

It wasn’t his usual sharp-edged irritation or teasing smirk. No playful bickering, no cocky remarks about how he’d been right. Just this.

Something softer. Something heavier.

Something you weren’t ready for.

“You should get some rest,” he murmured, voice low and rough around the edges.

You shook your head, fingers curling into your palms. “I’m fine.”

Bucky exhaled through his nose, like he didn’t believe you. “Yeah? You don’t look fine.”

You hated that he could see it. The tremor in your fingers, the tension in your shoulders, the way you were still breathing too fast, like your body hadn’t realized the fight was over.

You hated that he noticed. That he cared enough to notice.

And then—because you were tired, because you were furious, because he had almost died and you were still trying to claw your way back from the sheer panic of it—you snapped.

“You could have died, Bucky.” Your voice was sharper than you meant, thick with something you didn’t want to name.

His brow twitched, but his expression didn’t change. His voice stayed infuriatingly even. “Yeah. That’s kinda what happens when people shoot at you.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I wasn’t trying to be.” His lips pressed into a thin line, his jaw tight. “You think I don’t know what I’m doing out there?”

“That’s not—” You exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down your face. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what do you mean?”

The question hung between you, thick with unspoken things.

Bucky didn’t move, didn’t blink, just watched you—his gaze steady, patient, like he was giving you the space to say it.

And God, you wanted to.

But the words sat like stones in your throat, impossible to force out. You clenched your jaw, tried to shove them back down, but they wouldn’t go away.

Because the truth was, you weren’t just shaken by the mission.

You were shaken by the way seeing him bleeding had made your stomach drop, by the way his pained groans had made your hands shake, by the way you had wanted—needed—to run to him, to wrap yourself around him and never let go.

You were terrified.

Because this wasn’t just anger or frustration or a heated argument in the middle of a mission.

This was Bucky.

And you couldn’t lose him.

So instead of answering, instead of trying to put words to the panic still rattling inside you, you did the only thing you could do.

You reached for him.

It wasn’t sharp or defiant, wasn’t out of frustration or anger.

You just—needed to touch him.

Your fingers brushed over his wrist, barely there, hesitant. A point of contact. Something to anchor you.

Bucky stilled.

For a second, he just stared at your hand, at the way your fingers curled against his skin like you weren’t even sure if you had permission to hold on.

Then, slowly, he turned his wrist under your palm, letting your fingers slide over his pulse point. His skin was warm, his pulse steady. Alive. Here.

Your throat went tight.

Bucky’s voice was quieter this time. Rougher. “You gonna tell me what’s going on in that head of yours?”

You swallowed hard, but you didn’t let go.

Your thumb ghosted over his pulse, barely a whisper of touch, but it still wasn’t enough.

You didn’t know what you needed, what you were searching for beneath your fingertips, but the slow, steady thrum of his heartbeat wasn’t easing the raw ache in your chest.

Your eyes flickered around the cabin.

Sam was still dead to the world, Torres nowhere in sight. The only two people awake on this jet were you and Bucky.

Something inside you snapped.

One second, you were gripping his wrist, tethering yourself to him like that alone would make this feeling go away. The next, you were moving before you could stop yourself—sliding out of your seat, crawling into his lap, wrapping yourself around him like holding on tighter would somehow keep him safe, keep him yours.

Bucky made a sound—something low, something confused—but his hands came up anyway, large and warm and steady as they settled on your hips, instinctive.

His breath hitched, and you felt it against your temple, the subtle shudder of his inhale.

You buried yourself closer, curling into his chest, fingers winding into the hair at the nape of his neck. His scent was everywhere—gunpowder and metal and something distinctly him—and you could have drowned in it.

“If you ever tell anyone I did this,” you muttered, voice muffled against his neck, “I will find ways to kill you.”

There was no bite to it. No real threat.

Just you—raw and exposed in a way you didn’t know how to take back.

Bucky let out a breath that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle, but he didn’t pull away.

Didn’t tease.

Didn’t shove you off like he should have.

Instead, his arms shifted, wrapping around you fully, pressing you into him like this was what he had been waiting for, like this was something he had been needing just as badly.

Like he wanted to.

His metal fingers flexed at your waist, pressing against the fabric of your suit, a steadying grip. His other hand flattened against your back, tracing over the curve of your spine as if he was committing the shape of you to memory.

His touch burned.

His warmth was everywhere.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your fingers sliding from his hair to his cheek, brushing over the stubble there, the still-healing cut on his temple. And then—before you could stop yourself—you were tilting his face toward yours.

For the first time since the mission, since the gunfire, since you watched the blood dripping down his temple and felt your entire world tilt on its axis—you met his eyes head-on.

Bucky swallowed.

His gaze dropped—just for a second—to your lips.

It was enough.

Your resolve snapped like a frayed wire.

And before you could second-guess yourself, before you could remind yourself that this was Bucky, before you could convince yourself that you didn’t love him like this—

You kissed him.

It was desperate, messy—nothing like the slow, sweet build-up you had imagined in the deepest corners of your mind.

Your lips crashed against his, your hands fisting in his suit, pulling yourself closer, closer, closer, needing more, needing everything.

Bucky froze.

Didn’t move when your lips parted against his, when your tongue flicked against his bottom lip, when your teeth caught the cut there, tasting blood.

Didn’t react when you kissed him again, soft and searching, when your nose brushed against his, when you sighed against his mouth, the sound fragile and aching.

Didn’t kiss you back.

The realization hit slow, creeping in at the edges of your desperation, sinking its claws into your chest.

He wasn’t—

Oh, God.

The sting of rejection burned hotter than the wounds littering your body.

You tried to breathe, tried to steady yourself, but your lungs felt too tight, your hands shaking as you forced yourself to pull back, to put distance between you before you shattered entirely.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, a shaky breath washing over his lips. Your throat was tight, your vision blurring at the edges. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

Your voice broke.

Bucky was still silent.

And that was somehow worse.

It took a second to register the weight of what you’d done, to catch up to you.

You had kissed him.

You had kissed him and he hadn’t—

Your stomach plummeted.

“I’m—” Your breath hitched, panic clawing at your ribs. “I’m so sorry, Bucky.”

You tried to untangle yourself, tried to scramble out of his lap, to preserve whatever dignity you had left, to put distance between you before you completely fell apart in front of him—

But then—

God.

Then his hands tightened on your hips.

Hard.

Before you could even get further, Bucky dragged you back against him, fingers digging into your skin, like he wasn’t about to let you go. He maneuvered you until your legs were astride his hips, your arms around his neck, your chest pressed to his.

Your breath stilled, eyes wide, heart hammering against your ribs.

His expression had changed.

The shock, the hesitation—it was gone.

In its place was something darker.

Something heated and unrelenting.

Something like want.

Bucky’s breathing was uneven, his lips parted, his pupils blown wide as his gaze flickered between your eyes, your mouth, back up.

Then—

Then his fingers traced up your spine, slow and deliberate, leaving goosebumps in their wake. His metal hand trailed over your ribs, up your arm, curling at the back of your neck, tipping your face toward his.

And then, finally, he spoke.

“Doll,” he rasped, voice wrecked and low. “Can you do that again?”

Your stomach flipped.

“I—” You swallowed, your pulse hammering against his fingertips. “You didn’t—”

“I froze,” he cut in, jaw tight. “I won’t now.”

Oh.

Oh.

Your lips parted, heart stumbling over itself.

Bucky let out a breath, something between a laugh and a groan, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe you. His grip on your hips flexed, strong and sure, and for a split second, all he did was look at you.

Like you were something he didn’t know how to handle.

Like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to devour you or worship you.

Then—slower this time, more sure—he leaned in.

And kissed you.

You had been right.

Bucky Barnes would be your undoing.

He’d kill you with the way he kissed, slow and deliberate, like he wanted to ruin you, like he wanted to take you apart with nothing but the sweep of his tongue and the heat of his mouth.

You felt it—every glide of his tongue against yours, every careful press of his lips, every sharp inhale between kisses—like a spark lighting up your spine, sinking deep, settling between your legs with a heat so intense you could barely breathe through it.

You shook on top of him, the way he touched you sending shockwaves through every nerve ending in your body. His hands were everywhere—tight, possessive squeezes against your hips, reverent drags of his fingers down your back and thighs, gripping you like he never wanted to let go.

A whimper escaped you, completely unbidden, and Bucky groaned, a deep, wrecked sound that vibrated against your mouth.

Then, suddenly, his lips left yours.

You gasped at the loss—until you felt him move.

Felt the warm brush of his breath against your throat, felt his nose skim along the sensitive skin there before his mouth followed.

“Bucky—” His name left you in a sharp breath as he kissed down your neck, slow, teasing, his lips dragging over every inch of exposed skin he could reach.

The problem was—there wasn’t enough.

Your suit covered too much, kept him from truly touching you, and it was driving you out of your mind.

You arched into him, restless, desperate. “Take it off,” you whispered, the words spilling out before you could stop them.

Bucky stilled, his lips pausing against your collarbone.

His hands tightened on your hips, but he didn’t move. Didn’t continue.

“Take it off,” you begged, fingers digging into the fabric of his suit, tracing over the zippers, tugging uselessly at the buttons, trying to feel more. “Please, take it off.”

His breath was uneven, ragged. “Doll, there are people—”

“I don’t care.” You tugged at his collar, leaning in, pressing another desperate kiss to the corner of his mouth. “They won’t see.”

Bucky’s hands flexed against your waist, like he was warring with himself.

You kissed him again, lips parting over his, trying to convince him, trying to make him understand, to feel just how badly you needed this, needed him.

He let out a shaky breath, his forehead pressing to yours, his chest rising and falling unevenly beneath you.

“Please,” you whispered, voice breaking. “Please, before you change your mind—I need this. I need you.”

That did it.

Something snapped in him.

The hesitation vanished.

And then, suddenly, you were weightless.

Before you could even process what was happening, Bucky was standing, lifting you effortlessly, your legs tightening around his waist as he carried you toward the back of the jet, moving with a singular, determined focus that made your breath catch.

Your back hit the cool metal wall of the jet, the impact sending a shiver down your spine, but you barely had time to react before Bucky was kissing you again—hot, rough, devouring.

You gasped against his lips, fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck, holding on for dear life.

His hands roamed down your back, over your thighs, squeezing, gripping—and then, finally, finally, he found the zipper of your suit.

“I’m not changing my mind,” he murmured, his voice thick, edged with something raw that made you shiver. His fingers curled around the fabric, tugging just enough for you to feel the weight of his words. “And you’re not changing yours.”

You nodded without thinking, without hesitation, without fear.

There was a faint awareness of the reality around you—the steady hum of the jet beneath you, the wall of gear shielding you from the others, the knowledge that Sam and Torres were mere feet away. The fact that you were both bloodied and bruised from the mission, that maybe this wasn’t the time, wasn’t the place.

But then Bucky moved, and all of that faded.

The zipper came down in a slow, deliberate slide, the rasp of it against your skin sending a shiver down your spine. His hands worked quickly, efficiently, but gentle, pushing the suit down your arms until you could shake it off completely. The moment it was gone, he pulled your arms around his shoulders, guiding them to hold onto him, like he needed you to keep him close.

“Hold on to me,” he murmured, voice quieter now, almost reverent, before dropping to his knees.

Your breath caught, your pulse hammering as his hands gripped your hips, firm and unshakable, guiding the rest of your suit down your legs. His head dipped, his lips grazing the fresh bruise blooming along your hip. He kissed it once, then again—soft, lingering. Worshipping.

You swallowed hard, your fingers threading into his hair as he nuzzled along your thigh, your knee, before rising back to his full height.

“Not getting these off,” he muttered, his fingers ghosting over your soaked panties. You’d be ashamed if it weren’t for the way his lips parted, like he was desperate to get back on his knees, get his mouth on you, There was also something else. The look on his face - regret, you thought - like he wanted to take his time with you, but was disappointed he couldn’t.

His hands moved up your body, skimming over your waist, tracing along your ribs. You shivered at the sensation of warm and cold, flesh and metal. His eyes darkened at the sight of you trembling under his touch.

“We have to be quick.”

You nodded, obedient, but there was something clawing at your chest, something making your breath catch, making your hands shake as you reached for his belt, undoing it with frantic fingers.

“This—” You took a breath, sliding the zipper down, pushing his pants and underwear down in one swift motion. His cock sprang free, thick and hard, the tip already slick with pre-cum. You ached at the sight of him. Ached to drop to your knees and taste him.

Instead, you swallowed hard and met his eyes. “This isn’t how I imagined doing this with you.”

Bucky let out a low, disbelieving chuckle, shaking his head. “Me either.” His voice was rough, wrecked, breaking apart at the seams. His lips brushed your ear as he groaned, deep and ragged, when you wrapped your fingers around him, stroking him slow, teasing. “Fuck, sweetheart—”

A shudder rolled through him, his forehead pressing to yours, eyes fluttering shut.

“But I’ll make it up to you,” he promised, voice thick with something dangerous, something devoted. “I promise.”

His arms wrapped around you again, lifting you effortlessly, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, your hips rolling forward to grind against him.

“Bucky—”

“You want this?” he asked, pressing you back against the cool metal wall, the contrast making you gasp. His mouth was everywhere—dragging down your jaw, across the swell of your breast, open-mouthed and hungry.

“I do. I—”

The words faltered on your tongue.

Your heart was hammering, your chest was aching. This was reckless. This was insane.

This was everything.

You squeezed your eyes shut, pressed your forehead to his, your lips brushing his with every ragged breath. “I want you,” you whispered, voice breaking. “All of you.” Your fingers twisted into his hair, tugging just enough for him to feel it. “Please.”

Bucky exhaled sharply, his grip tightening. “You have me.”

His words were iron, unbreakable, true.

Something cracked inside you.

And then—there was no more hesitation.

His lips crashed into yours again, raw and consuming, leaving no space between you, no air, no room for anything but him. His free hand slid down, tugging at your panties, dragging them to the side. Your own hand moved between you, wrapping around his cock, guiding him to where you needed him.

“Jesus, doll—”

It wasn’t gentle.

It wasn’t careful.

It was one full thrust, his cock pressing inside you inch by inch, filling you completely, stretching you to the edge of pain. Your nails bit into his shoulders, your head falling back against the wall as a gasp tore from your throat.

You felt full. Too full.

Your legs shook around him, your walls clenching tight around his cock, the overwhelming stretch making your eyes slam shut, your mouth parting on a silent moan.

Bucky groaned, deep and wrecked, his forehead pressing to your temple. His body was shaking too, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps against your skin.

“Fuck,” he ground out, metal hand locking around your thigh, keeping you open for him. His other hand tangled in your hair, his grip tight, desperate. “Fuck, you feel—Jesus, sweetheart.”

Your breath hitched, your arms trembling as you clung to him. “I can’t believe you’re inside me,” you whispered, voice barely there, overwhelmed and ruined. “Oh my god, Bucky—”

He snapped his hips forward, and your world split apart.

The pleasure was sharp, blinding, a lightning strike surging through your veins. Your body clenched around him, gripping him so tight he groaned against your neck, his rhythm faltering for a beat. His hands tightened on your hips, metal and flesh both possessive, both desperate to hold on.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he choked out, voice strangled, roughened with something close to reverence. He thrust deep, his cock dragging against every nerve inside you, every sensitive place that made your stomach coil so tight you thought you might shatter.

“For you,” you confessed, arching into him, letting him feel it, letting him know. “All the time. Every time you look at me—”

Bucky snapped his hips forward, harder, deeper, tearing a cry from your lips.

“Shit,” he breathed, voice breaking, cracking at the edges. “Shit, shit—”

“You’re so deep,” you gasped, barely able to breathe. Your nails raked down his back, desperate, pleading, needing. “Bucky, I—I can’t—”

“I’ve got you, doll,” he groaned, pressing his mouth to yours, swallowing every sound you made as he ruined you completely.

Every thrust was a curse, every breath a kiss, and you were careening toward the edge so fast it was dizzying.

The pleasure ripped through you before you could warn him, before you could even process it. Your walls tightened, pulsing around his cock, body shaking so violently that he had to pin you to the wall with his hips, burying himself to the hilt, his hand cradling the back of your head, shielding you as you contorted in his grasp.

His mouth devoured your cries, catching every broken, pleading gasp as the orgasm tore you apart. It was an explosion that didn’t stop, that kept rolling through you, wave after wave.

You rocked against him, desperate for more, still chasing, still needing, barely hearing the way he rasped your name, telling you to slow down, telling you to look at him, warning you that he was—

“God, you’re heaven,” Bucky breathed against your ear, grinding deep inside of you, his voice wrecked, every syllable tinged with something broken, something beautiful. As you slowly came down, you could feel how close he was, how tightly he was holding on, trying to keep himself from falling over the edge. “I can feel you—fuck me, I should pull out.”

“No.”

It came out fast, urgent, a whisper laced with something dangerous. Your legs locked around his hips, keeping him trapped in your hold.

His entire body went rigid. His breathing stilled.

“Baby.”

Bucky’s voice was low, frayed at the edges, filled with disbelief. The word hung in the air between you, unspoken until now.

You froze.

Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you knew you shouldn’t have given that away. Shouldn’t have let it slip, shouldn’t have handed him something so fragile, something you couldn’t take back.

But what was a drop to someone who was already drowning?

Bucky’s hands tightened on your hips, but he didn’t move. If he wanted to, he could have pulled you off of him without lifting a finger. You had always been painfully aware of how much stronger he was, how easily he could overpower you.

And yet, he stayed still, locked in your hold. Completely at your mercy.

You swallowed, your fingers shaking as they curled into his hair, pulling him closer, refusing to let him run.

“C’mon, doll,” he whispered, his lips brushing yours, stealing a kiss that felt like it was more for him than for you. “Let go.”

His hips rolled, his pelvis grinding against your clit, making you whimper. Your body was still trembling, still oversensitive, but fuck, if he kept going just a little longer—

“I want you to cum inside me,” you pleaded, your voice trembling, your nails digging into his skin.

Bucky froze.

The words echoed between you like a shot fired into the silence.

His hips stilled. His breath hitched. His hands trembled where they held you.

You had to bite your bottom lip to keep from crying out, from begging him to move.

“Doll,” he rasped, warning in his tone, his forehead pressed to yours. He looked wrecked, as undone as you felt.

“Stop arguing with me,” you shot back, voice shaky, grinding against him, dragging your soaked, sensitive heat over him, pulling a moan from his throat so deep it made every hair on your body stand on end.

“Fuck,” he groaned, head dropping to your shoulder, his grip on you bruising.

“I want this.” You tightened your arms around his neck, pressing yourself closer, wrapping him in you, cocooning you both in the moment. “I’m begging you, Bucky. Please.”

“It’s—” He swallowed thickly, voice strangled.

“Irresponsible, yes, but what’s a little irresponsibility?” A breathless laugh escaped you, but your voice broke at the end, too raw to keep up the teasing. You squeezed your eyes shut, inhaling deeply before forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “I’m on the pill.”

His jaw clenched.

“I need this,” you whispered, the truth clawing up your throat before you could stop it. “I need you.” Your voice cracked, your breath hitched, emotion swelling too fast, too much. “You don’t get it, I—”

You didn’t even realize you were crying until he softened.

Something in his eyes clicked, something changed, and suddenly, his arms were wrapping around you tighter, his hands cradling your face like you were precious, like you were fragile, like he had to hold you together before you broke apart completely.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, kissing your temple, your cheek, your jaw. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

And then he moved.

His thrusts were slower, deeper, his lips brushing yours between each movement. His hands wandered, soothing, worshipping.

“Giving you exactly what you want, yeah?”

You nodded frantically, breath labored, losing yourself in the way he felt, the way he surrounded you, consumed you.

“Don’t pull out,” you begged, voice barely there, a whisper of devotion, of desperation.

Bucky let out a shaky breath, forehead pressed to yours. “I won’t, baby,” he promised, voice breaking. His pace picked up, hips rolling against yours, pushing deeper, harder, dragging against your oversensitive clit in a way that had you whimpering. “Gonna fill you up like you wanted.”

Your toes curled at the words, at the image, your walls fluttering around him.

“Oh, please don’t stop,” you gasped, rolling your hips, needing, aching.

Bucky groaned, his head dropping back as his rhythm faltered, as he snapped his hips harder, chasing the end, giving you what you wanted, giving you everything.

“Fill me up, baby,” you pleaded, your voice a broken, desperate thing. “Make me yours..”

And that—

That was what finally broke him.

Bucky snapped.

A curse tore from his throat, his grip on you bruising, unrelenting as his hips slammed into you, chasing the inevitable, giving you everything. His rhythm turned frantic, needy, his body demanding what you had just offered.

And you took it.

You craved it.

Your body tightened around him, coaxing him deeper, begging for more. Every thrust was an answer to a question neither of you had spoken aloud, a declaration in the language of skin and breath and longing.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart,” he gritted out, his forehead pressing to yours, his breath hot against your mouth. His hand slid down between you, his metal fingers finding your clit and pressing, rubbing tight circles, dragging you back to the edge with him.

Your body shook, every muscle tensed, the pleasure sharpening into something unbearable, something deadly.

“Bucky—”

“I know, baby,” he groaned, his voice cracking at the edges, his own body trembling as he held himself back, as he waited for you. “Give it to me.”

You did.

Your orgasm hit like a tidal wave, knocking the air from your lungs, blinding in its intensity. Your body locked around him, your hands clutching desperately at his shoulders as the pleasure ripped through you in violent, unrelenting waves.

And that was it. That was everything.

Bucky followed, slamming into you one last time before breaking, burying himself as deep as he could go, a shuddering groan torn from his chest as he spilled into you, filling you like he promised. You felt it as his warm cum Costas your walls, so much of it you weren’t sure there wasn’t some spilling out.

His body trembled, his arms locked tight around you, holding you close as he gave in, as he let go, as he let himself have this.

For a moment, there was silence.

Just the sound of your breathing, labored and uneven. The quiet, lingering shock of what you had just done.

Bucky’s forehead pressed against yours, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his heart hammering so hard you could feel it through his suit.

Neither of you spoke.

Neither of you moved.

You stayed like that—wrapped around him, his cock still twitching inside of you, his arms cradling you like you might disappear if he let go.

You let your eyes drift shut, your fingers tracing slow, lazy circles against the back of his neck, the weight of him comforting, grounding, even as reality started creeping back in.

You should let go.

You should move.

You should say something.

But when Bucky finally pulled back, just enough to look at you, his hands coming up to frame your face gently, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones—

The words died on your lips.

Because he was looking at you like you had just ruined him. Like you had just changed something fundamental inside of him.

Like you had just made him yours.

And you had.

Slowly,, Bucky eased his grip, his arms still wrapped around you, his hands still mapping the shape of you, like he needed to memorize every curve, every ridge, every place he’d touched.

His lips brushed your temple, then your cheek, then your jaw—soft, tender kisses that made your heart clench, made something deep inside you ache.

It felt too big.

Too much.

But you couldn’t stop touching him.

Your fingers traced the lines of his jaw, the stubble rough beneath your touch. You pushed damp hair out of his face, ran your knuckles down the slope of his nose, his cheekbone, memorizing him the way he was memorizing you.

A hand slid up to cradle the side of your face, his thumb tracing your cheek, his expression unreadable.

When he finally spoke, his eyes were soft, but serious.

“You meant it,” he murmured.

It wasn’t a question.

You swallowed, lips parting, breath hitching.

“Bucky—”

His other hand was still pressed to your lower stomach, like he could feel himself inside you, like he could brand this moment into your skin.

“I felt it,” he whispered, almost to himself. “The way you—” He exhaled sharply, like the words were too heavy to get out.

You closed your eyes, trying to give yourself some kind of reprieve from the enormity of it all.

“Don’t run from this.” His voice was so calm, but it cut through you like a knife. “Please, doll.”

Your throat tightened.

You weren’t sure if it was the aftershocks of pleasure or the overwhelming emotion of it all, but your body was still trembling—and Bucky felt every bit of it.

His arms tightened around you, securing you to him, anchoring you.

“I’m not running,” you whispered.

He pulled back just enough to search your face, like he didn’t quite believe you.

And maybe you didn’t quite believe yourself.

Because what came next?

What happened after this?

There was you before Bucky Barnes.

There was you after Bucky Barnes.

And they weren’t the same.

[polly-sly]

Okay, fic recs??

Oh okay, I have a list!!!

💚 Unforgiven by crying_possum

💚 Crime and remission by blantanblue

💚 Cross by blantanblue

💚 Crave - cuff me in black

💚 I promise by revalis_gale

💚 Why does this potion smell like you? by queenslytherin

💚 Just another undercroft meeting by ghosteelyfe

💚 Labyrinth of our minds by mistsprite

💚 Blindsight by the_invisibility_bloke

Upd:

🖤 I’ll lend a hand (all 5 parts) by gargoylegrave

🖤In the shadow of every word left unspoken by pandansca

🖤 cheers to everything that might have been by gargoylegrave

Some of them are finished, some of them not. But I chose the best in my opinion ✨

Share your favs in comments too! ✨

P.s. be careful before reading, check all the tags and warnings