Request: HI I love your fics!! could you do a deanxreader where dean
broke his right hand on a hunt and can’t shave himself so the reader, with
hidden feelings for dean, does it for him with lots of fluff please
Word Count: 1,270
“Ouch! Jesus Christ, that’s a
bitch.” The muffled cursing comes from behind the bathroom door, then followed
by the clinking sound of something falling into the ceramic sink, and finally
a, “Son of a bitch!”
Despite the laundry pile you’re
carrying, you swerve across towards the door and knock a couple of times with
your free hand, “Dean? Everything alright in there?”
There’s a moment of silence, and
then a short reply, “Fine.”
He’s obviously frustrated – a tone
you’ve quickly become accustomed to hearing after dragging him home from the
hospital a few days ago. He’d landed badly after being catapulted across the
room by an overzealous ghost and broken a hand, whereas Sam had gotten off with
a concussion and you’d somehow managed to slip away injury-free – which had
inevitably resulted in you skivvying around to cater to their every whim.
While Sam had managed to get over
himself somewhat and take it easy while the hellish egg on his head goes down,
Dean has been trying to do everything as normal. He hates being laid up like
this, and trying to get everything done for himself has just resulted in more
hurt and hindrance than help.
You still linger outside the door
for a few moments, “Can I help at all?”
He hesitates, and for a long
moment you wonder if he’s actually going to accept, “I could use a clean
“Got one here. Mind opening the
door?” You ask, after trying to get in and finding the door locked. Again, a
hesitation, but then the door opens, Dean fumbling with his good hand for a few
moments to get it undone.
You pride yourself on being able
to keep a poker face. Sometimes giving the enemy no indication of your emotions
could mean the difference between life and death – sometimes it’s imperative that
a victim doesn’t know what you’re thinking. But this time, when it’s important
that you don’t make a sound so Dean doesn’t slam the door in your face, you
just can’t seem to freaking manage it.
“I know, alright?” He huffs as you
sidle into the bathroom and begin draping the towels from the pile over the
towel rack, trying desperately not to laugh. It’s not your fault – he’s covered
in shaving cream – it’s smudged over his nose and there are even splatters in
his eyebrows. It’s all white, apart from a trail of crimson blood slipping down
the side of his face.
“You can’t shave left-handed?” You
guess, taking note of the razor left in the sink and the cast immobilising his
right hand. He sighs wearily, and then nods.
“Nope. I’ve never had to try
before, and I was starting to look even more homeless than Sam.” He complains,
taking a towel from you when you offer one to him.
“Dean, for crying out loud, you
shattered your hand. I think you’re allowed to look homeless for a little
while.” You reassure him, balancing the rest of the laundry – mostly jeans and
a handful of flannels – on the countertop, “If you really want it sorted, I’ll
do it for you.”
As soon as the offer has left your
mouth, you regret it – the very idea of managing to get so close to him without
blushing like a five year old, or completely losing your breath… impossible.
And yet, he nods, smiling ruefully.
“Would you mind? I just… can’t.”
He shrugs, and you smile back, nodding and shooing him off towards the closed
“Go on then, sit down.” You
instruct, picking up the razor and running the warm tap to clear it off. You
let the tap run for a little while, filling the basin, and then approach Dean
carefully, “You have to promise to stay still. Usually when I’m so close to
someone with something this sharp it doesn’t end very well for them.”
He laughs, leaning back with the
force of it, “That’s not encouraging, Y/N.”
“I said I’d do it. I never said
I’d do it well.” You remind him with a smile – humour: humour is how you get
through this without making a complete idiot of yourself.
“Much appreciated, beautiful.” He
winks, and it’s all you can do to force out a snort and place your fingers
beneath his chin to tilt his head up a little.
“Mm, whatever you say,” Sometimes
it’s difficult not to take his words too seriously, and you have to remind
yourself that Dean Winchester can and will flirt with anything that moves –
you’re not special to him beyond being good friends and hunting buddies.
“Well, the closer you get, the
more I’m thinking it.” He mumbles, remaining still as stone as you skin the
razor over his skin smoothly – you’re painstakingly careful, starting on the
opposite side to the cut on his lower cheek. He chuckles when you lean back to
dunk the razor in the sink, then move back over to him.
“I’ll stay well back, then.” You
wink in response, but contradict your own statement by leaning close enough to
him that his breath ghosts over your face. His eyes remain trained on your
face, watching every movement as you press your lips together, squinting in
concentration. You try your best to ignore it, being as careful and steady as
your humanly can manage while you get to work.
His eyes don’t leave you until
you’re finished, patting down his face with a towel and then handing it to him
– only then does he force himself to look away, watching as you clear up and set
everything back in its place.
When he finally manages to open
his mouth, he’s expecting the words that come out to be ‘thanks, Y/N’ –
instead, they’re, “When you’re concentrating, your nose does this funny little
You turn slowly, quirking an
eyebrow in a manner he can only describe as adorable, “Excuse me?”
“It kinda… wrinkles. But just at
the tip. Right here.” He taps his own nose, a small smile playing on his lips,
“And you blink a lot. I just… never noticed before.” Dean confesses, giving a
nonchalant shrug and trying to ask as if he isn’t mortified by the words.
Rather than make a comment, you
give a smile, wiping your hands off and stepping back, “I suppose I’m not the
kind of person people pay a whole lot of attention to.” It’s not meant to be
self-deprecating, but Dean takes it that way nonetheless.
“You have got to be kidding me.” He rolls his eyes, standing up and poking at
the cast as if his hand would be magically healed, “Y/N, you turn heads
everywhere you go.”
“Yeah, right, of course.”
“Hey, look at me,” He takes your
wrist in his hand, turning you to face him properly, “You’re beautiful. Really,
truly beautiful. And smart, and kind, and funny. And people notice that. I notice that.”
That’s when your heart really does skip a beat – his eyes are on
yours, emeralds glinting in the harsh white light of the bunker’s main
“You don’t need to reply to that.
Didn’t mean to back you into a corner. Sorry.” Dean smiles sheepishly,
scratching at the back of his neck with his good hand – but you shake your
head, stepping forward with all of the boldness you can muster.
“I want to.” You assure him,
taking his good hand and squeezing it gently, “I don’t care about anyone else
noticing. Just you.”
He hesitates, then glances
sideways, at the door, “Can I kiss you?” He blurts, flushing red like an
Summary: Looking back on your past, your life has never been anything out of the ordinary. Although your parents had left you on one mysterious night, leaving you little to no explanations, you live out the rest of your years residing in a new town under the custody of your aunt. That is, until you return to your hometown to investigate your parents’ whereabouts. It is this fateful decision that leads you to find a boy collapsed on your front porch one night, wounds gaping and life fading, as your entire life is spun out of control. Somehow being dragged into a life of crimes in the underground business of his, you discover the twisted secrets hidden behind the world you thought you had known all along.
“That night you dreamt of entering a labyrinth, a never ending maze that seemed to have no exits. No matter how much you turned and climbed, there was no way out, but within the distance was another person who sought your help. Together, you walked through the maze, guiding each other to a hopefully brighter place.”
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Peggy x Steve, Wanda x Sam
AU: Pirates of the Caribbean Universe
Characters: Bucky Barnes, Wanda Maximoff, Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter, Sam Wilson, Peter Parker, Baron Zemo, Alexander Pierce, Blackbeard
Warnings for this fic: Angst, smut, running away, profanity, violence, self defense practicing, injury, alcohol.
Warnings for this chapter: Waking up disorientated, hella crying, sexual assault mention, bodily harm, flashbacks and nightmares, fluff, sam and wanda fluff. Interrogation, Pierce being an asshole. Smut, not full blown tho, thigh riding, please tell me if i’ve forgotton anything
Word Count: 3861
A/N: I hope everyone likes this chapter, it’s taken me like a week, i hope its not too bad. though there are some sensitive subjects listen in the warnings. Just to say, if anyone has suffered any form of assault, people are willing to listen and my ask/message box is always open. Stay strong guys n dolls. I’m also very effing tired so sorry if there are any mistakes
Your world had stopped. Your hair and skin was stained with the blood of a man you had never provoked, you were a statue, stuck, unwilling to move, the stench of iron in your lungs.
And then everything was black.
A sharp tingling in his fingers was all Bucky could feel as he made way from his spot on the quarterdeck.
“Shit, shit, shit.” Bucky seethed. He scrambled towards your unconscious body. Wanda was shifting you into the safety position, gently moving your dead-weight limbs in the correct way.
As Bucky approached you, he took your tired body into his arms, carrying you bridal into his cabin, “Wanda, I’d like you to tend to Y/N, please, in case there’s anything wrong with her. I need to sort out Rumlow and Pierce.” His voice was gruff and worn.
After gently resting you on the bed, Bucky stormed out of the cabin in haste. As he approached Rumlow’s lifeless body, he gave it a swift kick in the head with his right foot, earning a sharp crack of the bones within.
“That’s what you get for fucking with my patience, prick.”
“Bucky, what are we gonna do with Pierce?” Sam grumbled as he hid the dead body behind a crate, grimacing.
“He’s going to clean up this mess.” Bucky scowled, pointing down at the blood and tissue slapped against the decking.
Sam scurried towards the hatch that opened to the bottom deck, holding his pistol in a white-knuckled fist.
“Pierce, Captain Barnes wants you.” Sam earned a huff and a disheveled man approaching from the dark shadows of the decks below. “Now!”
“Is there something you need, Captain?” Alexander rolled his eyes.
“Ah! Pierce! Just the man I needed, I need you to clean this mess up,” Bucky commented, his dramatic gesture towards the dark trail dripping with sarcasm.
As Alexander grabbed the mop and bucket from the side of the ship, he began to mop what he thought was vomit, but when the stench of iron filled his withering lungs, he wondered why Brock hadn’t come back from…
“Where’s Rumlow?” Alexander asked shakily, not full of fear but anger.
“If thou looks thou shalt find,” Bucky mumbled matter-of-factly whilst pretending to pick at his nails.
As the elder man followed the crimson trail he found the deceased body of Brock.
“What on earth-”
“Tell me what he was planning.” Scowl, jaw clenching, brows furrowing.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Alexander exclaimed, practically shaking in his worn leather boots as Sam held the barrel against his matted grey hair.
“Bull-fucking-shit, Pierce, tell me what Brock was doing, what he was planning against Y/N, or even me for all I know, or I promise Sam will put a bullet in that thick skull of yours just like I did to your little partner in crime.” Bucky was full of wrath, but he kept his voice low so he didn’t wake up his crew.
“We targeted her because… She’s young a-and pretty and-”
“Because you’re both disgusting pigs that objectify women and try to force them to satisfy your needs. Let me enlighten you, on your future journey aboard my ship,” Bucky sauntered closer to the disheveled man in front of him and continued in a low whisper, “now that your little friend has tried my patience and trust and I have had to waste a bullet, you will do as I say until I am done with you, you will not lay a finger on anyone, including myself and Y/N. I’m taking your firearms and weapons, henceforth taking your dignity. Consider yourself a man of the brig, Mr. Pierce.”
Sam lowered his pistol and stuffed it into his belt, keeping a watchful eye on Pierce as he continued to clean up the bloody mess on the brown flooring.
“I’ve got my eyes on you. Keep on cleanin’, white boy.”
“Who’s going to get rid of the body?” Wanda asked, biting her fingernails.
She had tucked you into bed once she finished cleaning the cut on your throat and the blood from your sweat sodden skin. She had the decency to change you out of your confinements too, the fabrics were chucked into a metal bucket full of hot water so the blood wouldn’t stain. Your limp body had made it hard for Wanda to dress you in a spare blouse, but the hard work had paid off.
“I was the one to kill him and I think I should be the one to chuck him overboard. Sam, would you think strapping a pair of boons to his feet would make him sink?”
“I think it would, Buck.” Sam snorted.
“Well then, I’ll be back shortly.”
With that, Bucky made his way to the main deck. He never intended to kill anyone, but when someone threatens someone he cares about most dear, his simmering anger turns to an over-boiled rage that cannot be contained. Sometimes he could control it, sometimes he couldn’t. Not this time, anyway. Shooting Brock Rumlow’s brains out was a rational thing to do, seeing as he was holding a very sharp dagger to his lady’s throat.
What he didn’t understand was why. Why? Why did he target you? Was there something Pierce wasn’t confessing? Was it something else?
He would never know now unless Pierce spilled his guts, and that’s why unwanted guilt washed over him like cold water as he steadied the dead body over the edge of the ship.
“May the gods have mercy on your soul Brock Rumlow, because I fucking won’t.”
As you woke up, you realised it was far from dawn due to the faint white rays of moonlight pouring through the small windows. Through tired, cloudy eyes you looked at your surroundings. You were in yours and Bucky’s shared bedchamber, though he was nowhere in sight. Glancing up at the clock, you noticed the large hand on the eleven and the smaller hand near the twelve.
How long had you been out for?
You looked down your body to find that you were dressed in one of Bucky’s worn blouses, who dressed you? Who cleaned you? Was Brock dead? Was everyone OK?
You had so many questions.
You carefully slipped from beneath the silk sheets of the warm bed and tiptoed towards the cabin.
“Bucky?” You called, your vision was still foggy from sleep, and you felt a throbbing sensation on the side of your throat. You peered into a nearby mirror and discovered you had a small gash on the side of your neck from where Brock had fallen behind you, his dagger had obviously caught but you were lucky it was just a small cut and no a full slice across the front.
“Y/N? How are you feeling?” Bucky’s voice broke you out of your thoughts, his hands gently resting on your shoulders.
“I, er, I don’t know really,” You gulped, tears formed in the corner of your eyes as you spoke, “Everything… Everything is just… Lord, I’m sorry Bucky-”
“Hey- no need for that, my love, none of this- NONE, of this is your fault. You’ve just been the victim of a very fucked up person, this was all HIS doing, not yours, don’t you even dare, for a second, think that you should blame yourself.” Bucky then tugged you to his chest as you let a few tears slip, you felt strong hands rub your back and stroke your hair as you breathed deep breaths.
“He said… He said he would have slit my throat, d-drained me and t-then used my body as a toy or s-something,” you hiccuped then, wincing as the scene replayed in your head, “and he said Pierce would be in on it too- and he said something about not risking Blackbeard- my father’s blade again.”
“Listen, you’re safe now, I… You know what I’ve done to Rumlow, he’s long gone, probably eaten by a shark or stolen by a siren by now. Though, Pierce is being kept in the brig behind bars, away from everyone else.” You furrowed your brows then, but before you could speak Bucky finished his sentence. “I’ll let you kick his ass soon, maybe shoot him in the foot.” You let out a watery giggle then, sniffling slightly. You saw the devotion in Bucky’s soft eyes then, along with his loving smile.
You realised then, that you loved this man, this big soft soul wrapped in steel skin, with silky brown hair and eyes as blue as the ocean tides. You didn’t want to say it so soon- so you just tugged his head down to yours so you could press a tender kiss to his lips. It was a passionate kiss, but there was no tongue, or groans or moans. Sheer bliss and you pulled away only slightly, your lips ghosting over his.
“May I ask who took care of me whilst you done whatever you did?”
“It was Wanda, I-I didn’t know whether you would have wanted I, a male, to touch you whilst unconscious, so I asked Wanda, a female, and your friend, to help you. Seeing as she’s uh… tended to your… womanly needs before-”
“Hush, James, I know what you mean. Thank you for respecting me.” You press a soft kiss to his lips, inwardly sighing at the warm contact as his hands cupped your jaw. “I’m hungry, but… I think I should get some clothes on first.”
“What do you think will happen?” Sam asked quietly as he stood behind his love, head resting his head on her shoulder.
“I don’t know, Sam, just know, that whatever happens, we’ll find a way out of it, we always do.” Wanda murmured, her hands resting on the ones draped gently across her shoulders, stroking his knuckles softly.
“Hey, look up, see that? Shooting star, better make a wish, darlin’.” Sam chuckled, his eyes stuck on the beautiful lass in front of him, she was his wish come true, so he didn’t have to ask for anything more.
“I couldn’t wish for anything more than you, Sam.”
You had spent the hour with Bucky in the main area of the cabin, you hadn’t exited the large room, therefore, you didn’t have to change. Bucky had kindly gone to the galley and fetched some bread, fruit and wine for you. You both sat by his desk, munching away.
As the clock chimed one, you and Bucky both bid goodnight to Wanda and Sam once they popped their heads through the door to do the same. As you both got comfortable in bed, you shuffled closer to one another, basking in each other's’ warmth and company. You felt Bucky yawn, his hard chest heaving against your cheek, causing you to yawn also.
“Yawning is as contagious as the black death, dare I say,” Bucky muttered tiredly, the vibrations of his voice relaxing you. His hands absentmindedly delved underneath the loose fabric of the baggy blouse that adorned your frame. His fingers traced light lines from your waist to your shoulder, slightly edging the blouse further and further up, the sound of even breathing and steady ocean waves lulled you to sleep.
During the early hours of the morning, you were jolted out of your sleep. Bucky had awoken too - having the ability to feel what you’re feeling - he felt the sweat roll down your temple, your erratic breathing and the tears burning in your eyes.
You were on high alert, you felt so panicked and scared. It hadn’t been a whole day and you were already having night terrors, Brock’s disfigured face haunted and tormented the insides of your eyelids, screaming into your dreaming ears, the feeling of cold steel still against your throat and sticky blood coating your skin like thick paint.
Bucky could feel you going into an erratic, panicked state and he shuffled closer to you to try and make you feel his gentle, calming touch. As his calloused hands made contact with yours, you looked at him with wide eyes. It felt like you were drowning, you couldn’t breathe and your head felt too heavy for your body like a siren out of the water.
“Shh, Y/N, it’s okay, he’s not here, he can’t touch you anymore, he’s dead, he’s gone, long gone. Breathe with me, darling, breathe nice and deep, there we go,” You shuffled closer to him and rested your head on his shoulder, nuzzling your face into his neck whilst your shoulders heaved with muscle-straining sobs. Bucky’s voice alone eased you to calmness again, and you slumped against him, tired and spent from the panic attack.
“I hope God has no mercy on that wretched man because I certainly won’t.” You groaned. You felt your head throb with pain from a number of tears you had shed now and then.
“I said the exact same thing, doll, I said the exact same thing. But just remember that I’m here for you, Wanda is here for you, so is Sam. You’re welcome to jump aboard Steve’s ship and talk to him or Peggy as well, they’re basically… only next door.” He finished his words with a firm kiss on your forehead. You snorted a little, rubbing your tired eyes.
You twisted your head to look at the large grandfather clock, it was only three in the morning and you still had time to rest but you were so, so petrified of the pictures flashing behind your eyelids again.
Then the reality of this whole situation combusted inside your chest, the realisation that your father, the most feared pirate in all continents, was probably out roaming the seas looking for you. What if he was angry? You shook the thought from your mind when you realized that you never owed him any explanation; he had tried courting you off with a strange man that was only interested in sex and breeding to keep his bloodline going, he paid barely any attention to you and he shrugged you off most of the time.
Bucky, Wanda, Sam, Steve, Peggy… They were your home now, not Port Royal. Your father could attempt to steal you away from the man you love and take you back to the island but there was a high chance of him being at the pointy end of everyone’s swords.
Most of the crew had taken a liking to you, apart from Pierce and the late Brock Rumlow, obviously, the thought made you shudder again.
“Y/N, darling, please rest -” Bucky whispered, his fingers gently ghosting against the skin of your neck. His large hand gently cradled your head as his thumb soothed over your earlobe, making you relax into his touch. You peered down to see the covers tangled between both your legs, putting them on show.
“Bucky- you never told me about that scar -” You ran your finger lightly over the thick scar on thigh, the tissue was painted in pinks and whites small tinges of red, the pattern almost resembled that of a map, like it was a guide to his soul. The thought made you smile a little and Bucky’s hand came to rest on yours as you traced the jagged edges of the memory etched upon his skin.
“I was a boy- probably about nine or ten years old, I had knocked over an oil lamp on my father’s ship and where the flame had caught my trousers the oil seeped straight through, I was running around like a lunatic, shouting for my father and the fire didn’t stop,” You peered up at Bucky to see him smiling, as if it was one of his fondest memories. “one jackass decided to pour rum on my leg, yeah, rum. The asshole thought it would extinguish the flames but alas, it did not. By then the mixed chemicals were already singing off my skin and I ended up with a third-degree burn, it was much bigger what it seems now, much bigger, it was so, so painful, as well.” Bucky grimaced as he looked down at the scarring.
“Well, Bucky, it definitely isn’t ugly, I assure you that.” You smiled up at him, your fingers still dancing around the seams of his beautiful flaw, and you felt him shiver at the contact. You pressed a light kiss on his jawline, lingering a bit longer than usual.
“Are you trying to give me a love bite, Miss L/N?” Bucky teased, his voice low and drawn out as his head tilted sideways, giving you access to the soft and stubble skin of his neck and jaw.
“Hmm, maybe, Captain Barnes, though one does not know how to do such a thing.” Your comment didn’t surprise him, but he pulled back to look at you anyway.
“Would you like me to show you, angel?” His blue eyes gazed down upon yours as he spoke his words, his tantalizing bottom lip pulled between his teeth.
You were unsure of what was to come, but you nodded your head anyway. You knew Bucky could sense your nervousness, as he pulled your face closer to his and took your lips in a passionate kiss.
“I’m gonna kiss you here,” one short kiss to your jaw, “here,” a lingering kiss to the area underneath your ear, which made you sigh only slightly, “and all round here, angel.”
Bucky began to lather your neck with kisses filled with lips teeth and tongue, Bucky worked his mouth over the soft flesh, earning a sharp moan to leave your throat as you felt a wonderful feeling between pain and pleasure envelope your mind. He nibbled softly, his tongue soothing over the spots almost instantly, but you moaned aloud when he blew cool onto the dampened spot, and you subconsciously hiked your thigh upwards and over his strong one.
Bucky shifted and grabbed a hand-mirror from the nightstand and pointed it at you, gently tilting your head. Your jaw went slack when you saw a pinky-purple splotch on the side of your neck, though you didn’t get a chance to react because Bucky had gone back to attacking your neck with more and more kisses.
He bit down a harder on the spot over your jugular as your cloth covered heat made contact with his thigh. Bucky’s large hands left your hips and neck to grasp your bum, making you straddle his thick thigh.
“You wanna rock them pretty hips against my thigh, my love? Hmm?” Bucky’s gravelly voice sent shocks right through you. “Let me show you how useful this big ol’ scar can be sweetheart.” His words could be deceived as innocent if spoken in a different manner, but they were so erotic you couldn’t help but moan into his mouth.
“Oh, Bucky, I- how does this feel so g-good?” You dropped your head to his broad shoulder as his hands found your bum, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, kneading and spreading your cheeks so you ground down harder onto him and so he could feel almost all of your heat against the sensitive skin of his scarred thigh. He paid no attention to the erection that tented against the large blouse adorning his body, his focus was on you, your body, your facial expressions, and most of all, the feeling of your damp little pussy grinding against him through a barrier of thin cotton.
You felt the pressure on your clothed clit as it dragged against the rough skin of his thigh, the knot in your stomach tightened further and further, making your legs quiver over his and your hips stuttered so badly that Bucky had to guide you himself, pushing you down a little bit harder, making you splutter out a moan.
Bucky’s eyes met yours and he could see that there was no colour left - your pupil had blown so wide he could barely see any of the pretty Y/E/C that usually resided there.
“Mhmm, keep rocking your hips my love - the contact of your pussy against me might just send me over the edge alone, God.” He pulled your neck down so he could press his mouth to yours again, your moans and gasps giving him access to explore your lips and tongue with his tongue.
One of his hands drifted over your loose blouse and cupped your breast, squeezing it gently and his thumb grazed over your nipple through the thin fabric.
“Are you gonna cum, angel?” You hummed against his mouth, overridden with euphoria and pleasure. Bucky took a moment before using his hand that was on your breast to part your lips, his tongue brushed against yours and he sucked it slightly, making you grind your hips hard into him, resulting in that final tug in the knot of your stomach to release.
“Unngh, Bucky- Fuck- Captain-” You groaned loudly, you swore the ship rocked again as you threw your head back in ecstasy.
“That’s it, kitten, just ride it out. Such a good girl for me, aren’t you? Did it feel good, my love?” Bucky’s voice was hoarse from arousal and it made the slick wetness of your heat coat the insides of your thighs.
“Mmm, yes, B-Bucky it was… wow.”
“Do you feel a bit better now? A bit sleepy?” He shifted your legs so they were fully straddling his waist, you felt his hard erection press against your stomach and sighed. Nuzzling into his shoulder, you mumbled in thanks and pressed a lazy open-mouthed kiss on his neck, sucking slightly.
Bucky gasped at your bold movements, feeling your soft plump lips suck at his neck, then your teeth nipping gently and your tongue darting out to sooth the red skin in little strokes.
You raised your head to him, lids heavy with post-pleasure. “Mhmm, I just gave you a love-bite Captain Barnes, and it’s almost as pretty as you.”
Your arms hooked around his broad shoulders again, trying to bring yourself closer to him, you kissed him slowly and softly, but your clumsiness got the better of you, making you fall down on top of him, your chest pushing against his firm one as you sat on his waist. With this angle, you felt his hardness completely against you, but you were so tired you hadn’t caught yourself falling asleep on top of him, your wild hair fanning behind you.
Bucky chuckled at your sleeping state, fairly pleased with himself. He had managed to calm you down, make you sleepy again and distracted you so you wouldn’t have any nightmares about the previous night.
Request: tsukuyomi011 I’m getting greedy here- cause you’re the only one fulfilling my requests right now, :p but anyway- I would like to request a Young!ErikxreaderxLogan one shot. Where the reader is Logan’s wife/mate in his timeline but when he goes backward in time-he finds that she was Erik’s girlfriend in the past and has to reign in his jealousy whenever he saw them together only to burst at last and try to beat Erik to a pulp?? I would love to see an Adamantium-less Wolverine going against Mageto… XD
A/N: I enjoyed writing this one! :D I hope you like it!
Every fiber of his being was screaming out for you, his fists balled tightly to keep himself from pouncing on you the next time you walked by. He needed you in his arms, holding you, kissing you gently, whispering sweet nothings. He needed you away from him. Pain clenched achingly in his heart, holding it tightly in its strong grasp. Your beautiful laughter was almost mocking him, reminding him of everything he’d lost. Had you not made him promise that he’d finish this mission, he would’ve abandoned it long ago just to be wrapped in your arms once more.
That’s all he wanted, you. And right now, his jaw clenched, eyes screaming murder as he looked at the gentle smile gracing your face, your head tucked in between Erik’s shoulder and neck, you were the only thing he couldn’t get. Something deep within him stirred, scratching at the very basis of his self, waiting, watching, fighting for him to get to you, to hold you, to claim you. A low, animalistic growl left his lips, his teeth bared. You were his. Why was he being forced to watch you with another? To be unable to hold you? To tell you how he feels? To show you his love?
It pushed at every inch of who he was to get up and take you back, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t do that here and he couldn’t do it now. He had to sit back silently and watch as you smiled for another man, as you kissed another man, as you loved another man. His eyes shut against Erik embracing you, disgust and pain etched into his features. He let out a loud exhale, leaving the images of the two of you behind. He truly didn’t know how much longer he could keep it up.
You watched as Logan’s form retreated, your head resting comfortably on Erik’s shoulder. He was holding you close, whispering something softly into your ear, but you couldn’t hear what he was saying. You were much too focused on the mystery that surrounded Logan as he walked away, muscles tensed as if he was uncomfortable. He’d been nice to you since you’d met. In fact, he was nicer to you than you’d ever seen him be with anyone else, especially Erik. He seemed to hate Erik and honestly, he probably had a pretty good reason.
“(Y/N),” Erik whispered, teeth gently scraping along your ear as he did so. You shivered, tearing your eyes from Logan’s back as he turned the corner.
“Yeah?” You inquired, a sweet smile gracing your face.
“You looked a little zoned out.” He laughed quietly, cupping your cheek.
“Sorry, it’s just,” you sighed, biting on the inside of your cheek. “Does Logan seem off to you?” Erik’s soft laugh turned into a loud chuckle, eyes shining with mirth.
“I hate to say it, but he doesn’t seem like the friendliest of guys.” You rolled your eyes, smiling widely. Erik did have a point. Logan didn’t seem to be the definition of nice, but still… A sigh was bit down as you thought back to the frustration he was causing in your mind. You feel drawn to him, dangerously so. It was like your heart was torn in two; one wishing for nothing more than Erik and the other longing to return to something eerily familiar to home, to Logan.
“Although, he seems a little too friendly with you.” Erik’s voice broke through your stupor, causing you to look to him dumbly. Surely he wasn’t insinuating that Logan… that wasn’t possible… right? Why would it even matter if he felt that way, you were with Erik. You held onto that like a shield, repeating it over and over in your head to dispel the strange emotions the thought was eliciting. “I suppose I’ll have to talk to him.” What?
“No.” You replied, holding his head in place with hands on either side. “Just leave him be.” A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, his head surging forward to connect with your forehead.
“Whatever you say.”
“Hey, Logan!” You call him over, smiling gently towards the man. He returns it in kind, approaching in long strides.
“(Y/N),” he breathed, a wide smile pasted on his lips.
“You wouldn’t happen to know where Erik ran off to, would you?” You asked, frowning a little when his smile dropped, being replaced with a rather nasty look.
“No idea,” he grumbled, walking in time with you.
“Hm, I give up.” You shrugged, attempting to lighten the mood once again. It didn’t seem to work well, a half-smile being sent in return for your effort. “You know, he’s not as bad as you think.” You began. Surely the only reason he hated Erik was because he thought that he was some insane guy who wished to take over the world. Maybe if you told him what Erik was really like, maybe then he’d like him.
“Or maybe he’s worse.” Logan replied dryly, glaring at every blade of grass you walked by. It was almost comical, his annoyance not that different from a child throwing a temper tantrum.
“Believe me, he’s not.” Your feet had stopped on their own accord, your body angled so you could get a better look at Logan. He was attractive, that much you’d admit. His lips were parted and inviting, his hair looking like the perfect length for you to just run your hands through as you… relationship, you reminded yourself. You’re in a relationship, a very happy one, you might add. With Erik, not Logan. A frustrated groan was torn from your throat, one of Logan’s brows raising in question.
“Something the matter?” He asked. You could’ve sworn his voice was huskier than it had been only moments ago, your fingers spasming with the sudden urge to kiss him, to hold him, to be with him. It was like your world was being torn apart from the seams, your mind actually telling you that it was okay to want Logan, that it was right. But no, it couldn’t be right. You loved Erik. Why did this have to be so confusing?
“(Y/N),” Erik yelled, thankfully ripping you out of your own mind and bringing you back to reality.
“Erik,” you sighed, breaking your gaze from Logan’s intense stare. He was sprinting towards you, only stopping once his arm was wrapped around your waist, his lips pressing firmly into his cheek. You didn’t have to see him to know he was glaring at Logan, clearly getting the point across that you were his.
“Wolfy,” he smirked, nodding in greeting.
“Erik.” He replied curtly, eyes gleaming murderously. His hands were clenching and unclenching, an obvious attempt to keep himself from pounding his fist into your lover’s face. Unfortunately, Erik truly didn’t know when to keep his mouth shut.
“We’ve got a little more pressing matter,” he looked to you heatedly, licking his lips slowly. “But I’ll be sure to let you know how we’re doing later.” Logan’s jaw was tightened, so much so that you were sure his teeth were going to snap under the pressure. Without hesitation, he lifted a fist and slammed it across Erik’s cheek. For one moment you stood wide-eyed, watching as your boyfriend righted his stance, wiping the blood from his split lip. “Wrong move, bub.” Erik mocked, his hand flying out.
A long metal pipe rose from somewhere beneath the surface, aimed right at Logan’s abdomen. A strange yell left your lips, something mixed between a warning and his name.They were going to kill each other, for fuck’s sake! Logan dodged the pipe, retracting his claws, for lack of a better word. He lunged forward, aiming the sharp weapons at Erik. He barely had time to move out of the way, this time pulling six metal balls towards himself.
“Erik, Logan!” You screamed, trying to get their attention before they actually did injure one another. They didn’t listen, too busy dodging and attacking. “Guys!” You tried again, looking on helplessly as one of Logan’s claws scraped along the side of Erik’s face, leaving a trail of crimson in its wake. In turn, Erik sent a metal ball careening through Logan’s shoulder, coming out wet and bloodied on the other side. “Boys!” You yelled for a final time, both hands going out to envelope them in a golden light. Neither could move, their eyes forced towards you.
“What the hell is wrong with you guys.” You shouted, glaring at both of them. When neither one of them provided you with an answer, you dropped both of your hands. With a loud declaration of, “Idiots,” you turned your back on them. They were being childish and pathetic and you were not about to put up with them. Obvious attempts were being made to get your attention from both of them as you walked away, but you weren’t having any of it. Each step only strengthened your resolve, fingernails digging into your palms. You were so done.
Bucky Barnes x Reader (Female), Steve x Peggy makes a brief cameo
Soulmate AU where a timer on your wrist counts down until the moment you meet your
soulmate, then underneath appears the date and time that you met your soulmate
and the initials of your soulmate written in their handwriting.
It didn’t matter to Bucky that his timer was extremely long, or that it wasn’t
on his left wrist like everyone else’s. No, he just lived his life to the
fullest as per the words of his father. A soulmate didn’t matter to Bucky. Until
it did. Until a big buff Steve rescued him from the HYRDA base and he saw how
happy they were together, Steve and his soulmate Peggy. Until he fell off that
train and he realized, that he wouldn’t live to see his own soulmate. Then he
regained his memories and realized that he didn’t deserve a soulmate. But then
he found her.
fucking shit I don’t think there’s any swearing in this, well I just swore but
that doesn’t count, I don’t think there’s any warnings, maybe some sad Bucky
and a bit angsty. If you see anything that you think is a trigger or warning,
please let me know.
READ THE DISCLAIMERS!
I do not own Marvel or any of its characters. Marvel belongs to Disney blah
blah legal stuff, don’t sue me I’m poor.
No. 2: I know that a lot of people have written Soulmate AUs about Marvel
characters and the timer seems to be the most popular one, this has been
sitting in my docs for months on end and I just cleaned it up a bit. But I have
read a couple stories about the timer so if you do see anything familiar to
something you wrote here chances are that I’ve read your story and somehow
remembered little details and wrote them in. If this is the case and you aren’t
comfortable with it just message me or send an ask OFF anon and we’ll work it
I’m alive! My first Bucky x Reader fic I’m screaming internallyI have my laptop (YAY!) and I’m spending
the night at my grandma’s place so I have WiFi (double yay!) and I found this
sitting in Docs from like, way back when i don’t even remember and I haven’t
written anything soooooo long, so I cleaned it up and I thought why not?
Feedback is always welcomed, it’s not a suggestion, it’s a command, you tell me
what you think! jk. On with the story!
When he’s in fourth grade the word ‘soulmate’ is one
of the questions his teacher asks the class if they know the meaning of. Bucky
does, but still he copies down the statement written on the board.
– People that the universe destined to be together.
There’s a box on the underneath, for him to draw a
picture that represents the word. The girl and the boy in front of him try
their best to draw pictures of themselves, writing their names underneath,
their timers having stopped two weeks after the start of the initial school
year when the girl transferred into their class. Bucky draws the best stick
figure of himself, holding hands with another mystery figure, a question mark
in the place of their head.
Prompt: The elite society of New York can become a nightmare unless someone can rescue you.
Word Count: 880.
Pairing: Carter Baizen x Reader.
Warnings: Cursing, what’s new? And some explicit behaviour and language.
A/N: Birthday drabble for my Hannah, hope you enjoy it @ho-ne-y Once again,@evanstanssis being there to let me know my work does not suck and your encouraging words.
Another night meant another stupid gala she had to attend. Wake up early that day, be prepared for all those people that would march in and out of a bedroom as they listed countless options for a gown, jewelry, make-up and hair. In between all that chaos, a young good lady of the New York elite had to eat at least something and get her body ready for the night. Yes, her body because everything was about the display of her figure, not who she really was.
New York, such a vibrant and magnetic city. New York, a nightmare for the young who belong to a society just because of who their parents were: growing up in the public eye, not being able to commit mistakes, to experiment, to do anything without being photographed and therefore, being scolded by their parents for another black spot, another scandal in their families.
“Among the extra ordinary circumstances that attended him, in the midst of his enemies, he died universally esteemed and universally regretted.”
- Alexander Hamilton to John Laurens, October 11th, 1780.
October 2nd, 1780.
The sun rise just peeked over the tops of the mountains, scarcely brushing the leafless trees at the edge of the valley. Benjamin Tallmadge arched his shoulders stretched them back before raising a hand to rub his heavy eyelids. In the circular motion, he revolved his tongue in his throat, running it across his chapped lips, cracking from the cold in a seemingly endless winter. Every few minutes he’d shut his eye- just for a moment- his body would jolt just before he collapsed onto the floor- catching himself just on time and resuming his position. Ben shifted his weight and winced, a stiff and sore back from being seated for the entire night. He blinked his eyes, liquid registering to them as they watered from sleep deprivation.
His vision was searching for something to keep him occupied in the prison cabin that was still exasperated in the darkness, for the moon had folded into the sun and sunk below the horizon. The bister of his watch caught on a spinning trail of crimson wax that had dried and turned cold as it hit the surface of the table. They followed it up to the candle holder and of course, to the candle- in the wick he could still see the ghost of the flame as it danced and nicitated across the wooden walls. It had been out for hours. Ben sat up straight and felt sleep stretching the corners of his eyes down to his cheeks. He revolved his neck finding the desk chair still occupied by John Andre’s seemingly life-filling form. Andre hadn’t shut himself all night- and Ben tell that the window was not yet tired from having the Englishman regard painting the glass with different shades of misery.
Benjamin turned his neck, running a hand along the back of his skin and fluttered his glare over the corner where a cot was occupied. The man who took the spot was curled up against the wall, legs lounged out in front of him and his cocked hat drifting a shadow across the slant of his face. Ruby hair poking out and sticking to the man’s forehead. What a strange sight it was to see Alexander Hamilton in such a peaceful state. Even from across the room, it was unmistakable to trace the silhouettes that had shredded into his cheeks from last night. Perhaps he fell asleep in the arms of a dream so beautiful it caused tears to contaminate his bones on the surface of his ivory skin and in the flecks of flames scattered across the hues of his freckles.
Ben almost contemplated waking him up but before he could there was a shudder and Hamilton spread his arms around him and sat up, tapping the brim of his cockade up out of his face, lids half drawn. The major didn’t fear sleepless nights; nobody knew how lengthy the dark lasts when you cannot close your eyes to it. Although he was clearly breathing, his chest felt hollow as a bird’s wings, only in contrast he could not fly- kept down on soil by the water swimming weight in his lungs. A sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach, barely able to see through the mist of fog that was clouding his dreamless tinges of the leaves. The moon, vacant from the sky had retreated to solitude while the sun hadn’t risen yet to meet the day in celebrating illuminations.
His eyes had just began to drift into slumber once again when the door to the cabin busted open. Hamilton’s boots sunk to the floor and he took off his hat setting it beside him, and Ben just adjacent, lifted his chin off the palm of his hand and stretched his eyelashes across his forehead in confusion. His vision cleared and Ben almost stood up- perhaps it was General Washington. The familiar tight set of the hips and a lean, childish figure stepped into the room. The visage, not cursed in an unparalleled wrinkle, or a minuscule marking or scar was pure as snow and they immediately spun their concentration towards the the prisoner who was seated at the desk.
In Crimson And Noir | Chapter One (An Adlock Fanfiction)
(A/N: I haven’t written chaptered fics in a while so this is getting me nervous. Some of these will have callbacks or references to one-shots and personal headcanons that I have about Adlock, so if you’ve been reading my works for a while, then you might catch them. Enjoy! <3 )
Sherlock never really imagined he would dream of such, but even after months of what happened in Sherrinford, he still finds himself waking up in the middle of the night, breathless in memory of that vivid day.
Baker Street was eerie with silence, the ticking of the clock in pace with the sound of his own heart. He was slick with sweat from the crimson trails crossing his vision, and the contrast of the room’s darkness was making things worst. It was like he was in a constant state of unrest, body exhausted even if he was fresh from a deep slumber.
There was a certain dread that was at the pit of his stomach, of yearning and despair wrapped into this abyss of emotion that he couldn’t put his finger on, and in the cold and desperate night, one face flashed in his mind.
Knowing that his sister left her out of their game was his source of light every time he wakes from his nightmares, an unadmitted relief washing through his entire body. She was going through enough as it is, and to be dragged into another conundrum as orchestrated by his own kin would feel too much even for him.
Besides, he couldn’t stand the idea of losing her because of his own recklessness. With his mind fleeting to Mary, he ran his fingers over his damp hair in exasperation. He’s had enough with grief.
And he hasn’t talked to The Woman yet about that night when he seeked for her company, that fateful night when the world came crashing down along with Mary Watson. It was a moment of weakness that he had shared with her, a devastating loss and the feeling of sickening isolation that drove him to the one person whose death, or more like fake death, also punctured him to the core.
His mind reeled, looking at the time on his phone flashing just a few minutes past two in the morning, and he wondered if she was also as restless as he was. Still, with his fingers trying hard to not unlock his phone and dial her number, he sighed and went to search his bedside drawer instead, letting out as sigh as he patted three nicotine patches onto his skin.
Why can’t the sun seep through the windows fast enough?
“Sherlock… Still having nightmares?” John asked as he sipped his coffee.
There was no use in denying, for the doctor had also confessed he had his fair share of bad dreams. Sherlock sighed and nodded at the same time.
“You know… Talking to someone helps. A bit.” his friend offered, unconvincingly.
“I’m talking to you. And we have our cases. That’s all I need.” he replied, biting back the rather nasty retort he had in his head. He’s learned to practice control and a little bit of sympathy after…well… after the humbling experience with Eurus.
John simply shrugged and went back to scrolling through his laptop, And yet despite his friend’s attempt to show interest in the news headlines, Sherlock could easily read through his glassy expression.
“Ho– How about you, John? The new therapist helping you well?” he tried to inject more curiosity in his tone, despite his mind whispering what he already knew.
John gave a soft laugh. “Last I checked, she’s not related to you so… I guess that’s good.”
Sherlock smiled back at the joke, trying to cover up the idea that it pained him to see so clearly how John was always at the brink of breaking down, eyes still focusing on one spot of the room and then the other. And he knew exactly why: the doctor continues to see his wife. And no therapist, or any other person, could amount to taking away that kind of burden and pain – Sherlock believes that it is one of the few things about emotions that he had come to understand.
The very reason why he regretted being a little too welcoming towards their new client.
Summary: At the Trancy manor, where many secrets lay hidden from wandering eyes. There lies an even dangerous secret beneath it. Some believe it to be treasure, but of course, it doesn’t belong to him. Shall we proceed?
The sky was dark and low with ominous black clouds and the wind picked up, howling, crying, warning, baying like a wolf into the night. The first crack of lightening rent the air and within seconds the rolling boom of the thunder reverberated overhead. Soon the rain fell, slow to start, splattering the sidewalks haphazardly. Then it fell as if from buckets, cascading like a waterfall from the heavens. It pounded on the roof of the Trancy manor as if it were demanding entrance.
The head of the estate watched the drops of rain fall down the glass of one of his many windows.
And he scoffed. “This weather is plain ridiculous. Hannah!!” The maid that had been hiding in the corner of the room flinched at his voice.
“I despise this rain. Make it stop.”
The maid known as Hannah kept her gaze to the floor but slowly moved it on him.
“But, sir. I have no control over the-”
“Tch. Useless broad.”
He stood up from his chair and turned around. She instantly returned her sight to the floor when he glared at her in despise.
“I don’t want this beastly sound to disrupt my night. I don’t care how or what you do, just make sure it doesn’t! Now go!”
She bowed her head and quickly left the room. Watching with boredom, he sighed and plopped down on his bed, face down into the sheets. Turning his head, he looked out the window and he stared as the dark clouds began to form over his manor.
His eyes narrowed. “There’s a storm coming. Just perfect.”
An anxious sounding tapping rang out into the cool night air. The two pairs of footsteps were completely drowned out by the wind and thunder crackling. The only showing of a presence was the trail of crimson liquid that was dripping beside one of the footsteps.
And through the fog were the outlines of faces that were as pale as the white mist, camouflaging their very existence.
Their pace was matching the pounding of the rain and the boom of thunder, as if they were the very embodiment of the storm. And it was headed in the direction of the Trancy manor.
Sun in the 1st house people are usually easy to spot. They have a certain energy and vibrancy about them. They will definitely portray the traits of their sun sign to those that meet them. They are highly independent creatures that want to make a life of their own. Although seemingly very confident, Sun in the 1st house people often care too much about what people think of them and are highly self-aware. If the Sun sign is that of air or fire, then these people will often be loud even if they don’t realize it. These people are usually popular, well-liked, or well-known. People know of them for some reason whether it be good or bad. This may make them want to fit in with a certain image to keep that popularity which can make them unhappy if they aren’t truly being themselves. Definitely a natural leader and not one to follow rules or listen to authority figures easily. Some sun in the 1st people can come off arrogant or prideful and this may very well be how they feel inside. Sun in the first house is a blazing trail of crimson and orange fireworks in the night sky. Bursting with color for the world to see and admire.
Note: This is my first time writing F/F so if you have any feedback to give, feel free to inbox what you thought of the fic :) I hope you guys like it~~~
You sat there, strapped to the chair with metal handcuffs, hair flowing down your shoulders and sticking to your forehead with sweat. Your hands were bound with handcuffs while your sense of sight was stolen by a black silk blindfold.
Her hands ran all over your naked figure, sending shivers down your spine as her lips pressed small kisses all over you, making you gasp and mewl.
“Hy-Hyunaa—“ You whimpered, desperately begging for her, your tongue licking your bottom lip in the anticipation of her mere voice, her praise, her commands…
“You look so good tied up sweetheart…” She spoke in a sultry tone, her lips grazing your jawline and her hands entangling in your hair.
“Even your hair, it looks so good… Begging me to pull it,” She tugged at your silk strands harshly, making you whimper under her touch as her tongue gave the sensitive skin of your neck long licks and kittenish bites.
She slid down your underwear, shoving the wet fabric into your mouth before sliding a pretty pink vibrator over your slit, covering it in your arousal before she pushed it inside you, making you dig your nails into your palms harsh enough to leave crescent marks on it.
“If kitten listens to me she might be rewarded for her good behavior,” She whispered into your ear and, with a small click of the button, the vibrator inside you came to life at the highest speed possible as you began screaming her name in the cloth in your mouth that did nothing to muffle your cries of ecstasy.
“If kitten doesn’t come in the next five minutes…I’ll make sure she has five orgasms…”
Her incentive was pure temptation yet you found yourself incapable of holding back the pleasure the vibrations filled you with.
She got down on her knees, her lips pressing kisses along the length of your thigh, nibbling at the skin to leave a trail of crimson marks behind.
You desperately tried to hold back the orgasm that was already making its way up, your walls clenching tighter and tighter each passing second and Hyuna’s lips moving to your burning core that was already going in overdrive from the pleasure of the vibrator. Your teeth dug into the fabric as you held back your small mewls.
Your orgasm was just about to hit you, on the brink of sending euphoric pleasure coursing through your entire body when Hyuna pulled the vibrator out of you, the five minutes finally over and replaced it with her tongue and fingers that made your orgasm so much more pleasurable.
“Good Kitten…now, come for me”
You didn’t even need to listen to her words as your climax knocked you out with its intensity, the pure raw pleasure making you scream her name in ecstasy as she licked away each and every drop of your release.
“One down, four more to go,” She spoke, licking her lips and fingers, your taste absolutely addictive and only leaving her hungry for more.
She undid your blindfold and handcuffs but you didn’t touch her, not until she gave you explicit permission to do so, a lesson well learnt after the last roleplay session you’d had.
She looked absolutely ethereal in front of you, each and every curve on her body so perfect and so irresistible.
“What a good little kitten….Ah the things I want to do to you…” Her hands moved to play with your breasts, softly kneading them with her hands, fingers pinching your erect nipples that elicited a soft gasp from your mouth.
She pulled you closer as her tongue attacked yours, taking in your wonderfully enticing taste. You moved your hand to her neck and her hair, gripping it harshly as your tongue took in the heaven that was her mouth. The both of you walked towards your bed, your breasts pressing against each other’s and making you moan at the touch.
You pushed her onto the bed, “Hyuna…” You spoke in the softest of voices as you got on your knees, pressing kisses all over her toned thighs, you wanted nothing more than to worship the goddess that was now lying in front of you.
“Let me please you” You licked over her slit, coaxing your name along with a moan from her sinful lips, smirking from pride at the sound before you pushed in two of your fingers, arching them just right to hit her sweet spot, making her hands clutch tightly at the sheets on either sides of her harsh enough to turn her knuckles white.
“Ohh fuck just like that baby!” She whimpered as you began sucking her clit, your teeth grazing it just enough to make her eyes roll back into her head as waves of pleasure crashed onto her, exhausting her and taking away the breath from her lungs as she moaned your name repeatedly.
“Did you… like that…Babe?” You spoke, swallowing each and every drop that you could before you looked up at her expectantly.
“Of course I did, I always love your surprises,” She praised before suddenly getting up and taking you in her lap, her lips sucking at your hardened nipples as you gripped her chocolate brown hair. Her fingers playing with your breasts and her teeth teasingly biting your nips, making you whimper.
“Does my precious kitten want another orgasm?”
With that her fingers trailed downwards to your dripping folds, slowly inserting two digits and pumping them roughly, making you grip her shoulders for support and move your hips just right for her to hit you even deeper.
“Oh god…Yes!” You yelled, as your second orgasm came crashing over you but Hyuna wasn’t even close to finishing.
She placed you on her thigh, your release soaking her skin as her hands gripped your hips tighter, leaving behind marks on your previously unblemished skin, as she made you grind on her.
“Kitten…I want you to come on my thighs,” She moved your hair off your shoulder, her soft lips biting the skin and leaving behind beautiful, blooming bruises that wouldn’t disappear for days, “I want my Kitten to come all over me”
Her words intoxicated you further, clouding your thoughts with pure lust and desire as your clit rubbed furiously against her thigh, her muscles tightening underneath and making it that much better, just for you.
“Ah fuck, Hy-Hyuna!” You moaned, your pleasure going into overdrive as you felt your third orgasm approaching fast, taking her lower lip in between your teeth as you bit down on it and came all over her thighs, covering the soft skin in the sheen of your release.
When you pulled away, she brought a finger to her lips, her trickling blood making its way down her chin and falling on her chest.It was truly a sinful sight.
“Bad kitten.” She pushed you onto the bed, your ass facing her as she smacked it, leaving a red hand print, the pain shooting electricity through your skin.She grinned at the sounds you made, your voice hitching in your throat as you tried to hold back the moans that were on the verge of escaping your mouth.
You were not to let your voice be heard when Hyuna punished you but damn it all, she was profusely praying to any and all gods that she’d get to hear your sweet voice screaming her name, all so that she could punish you even more.
“Does kitten like to be punished?”
The painful pleasure sending sparks flying at the touch, your skin burning yet left you feeling unparalleled bliss.
Hyuna climbed on top of you, her folds aching for the touch of your tongue and fingers, and begging for her release.
“Let me ride you babe…” She smirked, your tongue already moving to lick her clit and your hands grabbing either sides of her thighs.
“Oh fuck baby, you taste so good!” You moaned out from underneath her as you licked her up, taking in each and every drop to soothe your burning thirst for her.
“Y/N-ah fuucckkk…you’re so damn good oh god!” Her hands entangled in your hair as he began to grind on you, her release inches away from her.
You inserted two of your fingers in her, thrusting deeper and deeper until she came once again, almost drowning you in her juices.
Not that you would’ve minded being completely drowned, being buried in between her legs would’ve been best way to die.
“Fucking hell babe, you’re so fantastic,” She gasped as she rode out her high.
She got off of you, her lips coming down to kiss you, tasting herself on your tongue as her fingers moved to your breasts just as yours did to hers, playing and pinching the hardened nipples that made you moan into the kiss.
Soon her fingers moved further down, to your oversensitive folds. Even the slight touch of her skin grazing your slit had you screaming from pleasure, making her chuckle.
“Come on kitten, I know you can come for me again,” She said, moving to your bedside drawer to take out the strap on.
You licked your lips in excitement as she put it on, your core desperately craving more pleasure from her. She covered it in lube, pumping it a few times to make sure it didn’t hurt you, always the thoughtful dominant. She gripped your hips, thrusting the entire length into you in one swift movement, your warm walls welcoming the ecstasy that had your legs trembling uncontrollably.
“Ahh Hyunaa, oh god babe….I love you so much!” You screamed, but she was too busy fucking you six different ways to Sunday to notice your cries of pleasure.
Your mind didn’t even have enough time to take in every bit of pleasure that you felt, you could see the stars exploding in front of your eyes from the bliss you felt. Her hands moved from your back to your breasts, her fingers pinching and toying with your nipples, eliciting whimpers and moans from you, your sweet voice hitching in your throat as her touch sent fire burning through your veins.
“I—oh god—I’m so close!” And with a few more thrusts, the heat building up in you came crashing down, your fourth orgasm absolutely leaving you breathless and numb to anything and everything other than the pleasure she gave you.
You collapsed on the bed, your breasts pressing into the mattress and hair scattered all over the pillow as you panted, trying to fill your lungs with air as much as you could before the final orgasm.
Your hands clutched at the headboard when you felt her tongue lick a long stripe over your drenched folds, making you scream her name. She picked up the vibrator, pushing it inside you once more. Your voice only motivated her further, licking your clit without any respite, her mind only focused on making your release that much faster and intense. The ecstasy of the vibrator combined with her tongue slaving away at your core soon had you arching your back as your fifth and final release coursed through your body, every ounce of energy exhausted as Hyuna licked each and every drop of your orgasm, your sex still throbbing and aching with the vibrator inside.
She slowly pulled it out, your face wincing as she did but you were so tired, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care too much about it.
Hyuna laid down next to you, your hands embracing her as hers did you. Both of you wrapping yourself in each other, sweaty and exhausted after the countless orgasms yet you had never felt so much at ease, each and every cell in your body fully satisfied and content.
“I love you Y/N-ah,” She whispered into your ear, her legs entangling with yours as she pulled you in even closer.
“I love you more Hyuna,” You gave her a chaste kiss before both of you fell asleep, the exhaustion knocking you two right into deep slumber.
I’d like to thank @taehyugme for giving me feedback and @smuttilyeverafter for editing this. I don’t think I could’ve done this without you guys!!
There it was. The sickeningly sweet voice you knew all too well. It was Stiles, but he wasn’t standing in front of you, the Nogitsune was.
You shuddered as he reached up, bloody knuckle ghosting over your cheek, leaving a crimson trail on your flushed skin. “I’ve missed you dove.”
“Let him go.” You spat, dodging his touch. He let out a dark chuckle, before burying his face into your neck.
“Mmm. I’ve forgotten how sweet you smell baby.” He mumbled into your skin. “You haven’t suffered in a while. I’ll have to change that.”
You bit your lip, tears forming as shut your eyes tightly, trying to block out all feeling, knowing it was useless to try to escape him. This couldn’t be happening. You’d fallen into the clutch of the Nogitsune once before. He’d left scars you were still recovering from. You weren’t sure if you could stand going through with it again.
A sharp knife to you neck brought you back to reality with a yelp. You opened your eyes as he grabbed you face, pulling you up to face him.
“Now you know I can’t have you going back, telling Scott about me.” He slid the blade across your skin with idle fascination. “But you’re too precious to kill baby. I guess I’m just gonna have to steal you away again.”
A/N: This is my first ever piece on Tumblr so hopefully it’s alright. I love to write and will take all request from fluff to smut!
His lips were soft and comforting against mine, something so adverse to his so-called bad boy reputation. My friends had warned me at the beginning of the school year about him and how easily it was to be cast under his spell. He’s nothing but a player, they told me, you’ll only get your heart broken. Funny that my brain is only reminding me of that moment with my friends now considering I was lost in the way Brad and I fit so perfectly together.
His thumbs traced circles on my hips sending shivers up my spine, igniting the fire inside me. Never would I have thought 3 months ago that I would be in a room alone with bad boy Bradley Simpson with a party going on underneath us.
“What’s wrong?” His voice was deep with lust while his dark eyes searched my face. I didn’t realize that I’d stopped the kiss until he spoke, the nerves coursing through my body like a hurricane. My eyes found the floor not being able to take Bard’s intense stare and only shrugging my shoulders in response. Warm fingers lightly tapped my chin, guiding my gaze back to Bard’s.
His facial features were softer with concern flooding his eyes. “What’s wrong?” He tried again.
My mouth faltered open and close a few times before remembering how to speak again. “I’ve never… I just don’t want this to…”
The corners of his mouth inched upwards into a mimicking smirk before he took a step away from me. “So I guess you’ve heard the rumours too, huh?” My brows frowned in masked confusion, though we both know that I have. “Don’t deny it, I was stupid to ever think that maybe they hadn’t got to you. But rumours are like wild fire, they just keep burning until the whole forest is nothing but char and ash.” He licked his lips, taking a moment before continuing. “They said that I’m player, that I’ll break your heart.” It wasn’t a question but a statement as though he were sighting the rumours like a poem. He studied my eyes for a long while making sure not to miss any single detail of my reaction to his words. “And you believe them.” His head bobbed up and down as he nodded to himself while letting out a pained laugh. I watched his fist clenched and unclenched subconsciously before he pushed passed me towards the door.
“Brad,” I called for him, lightly touching his shoulder. He tensed under my touch, never turning to face me. “If I believed the rumours do you really think I would be standing here now in this room with you?” When I didn’t hear a reply I continued. “And alcohol is no excuse for this either, I’m clean tonight.” A pause. “And I know you are too.”
A heavy silence filled the room before seeing Brad slightly turn his head so I was only able to see the side of his face. “Then why the hesitation?”
I swallowed my nerves knowing another choke up wouldn’t do either of us any good. “It’s just, this isn’t like me; making out with a guy who I only know because we have Calculus together. I just don’t know if I’m just thinking in the moment or…” I trailed off not knowing how to finish.
“I should leave.” Brad said with his body still turned away from mine.
Jumping over the bed I was able to beat him to the door, placing my body in front of it like a barrier. His body was so near to mine that I could feel the heat radiating off of him.
“Kiss me.” I whispered to him.
His eyes only searched mine for a moment before bending down and placing his lips back on mine as though the final puzzle piece has come into play. My hands cupped his stubbly cheeks in attempts to deepen the kiss while feeling his strong arms wrap around my middle and pull me closer to his solid frame. I began walking backwards to the bed dragging him along with me. Brad gently pushed me onto my back before towering over me, breaking the kiss in the process. His deep, brown eyes studied me as a smile broke onto his lips.
“Beautiful.” He muttered more to himself than me though I still felt heat rise to my cheeks.
He leaned back down to my lips giving me quick pecks along my jaw line then trailing down to my collarbone. I knew there would be a crimson and indigo trail of bruises in the morning as he nibbled and kissed the sensitive skin on my body. His warm hands slipped under the hem of my simple striped shirt, raising it above my chest and over my head before doing the same to his own. My fingers trailed along the divots of his chest and stomach, tracing the muscles to memory. I noticed his breathing became heavier once I looked up at him. He was getting lost in the moment with my fingers against his warm, sun kissed skin. I studied his face with a smile, his eyes cracking open once my fingers stopped moving before he leaned down to give me more of his comforting kisses that I wished I could have all day long. I was so lost in the kiss that I didn’t realize that the both of us were only left in our underwear.
Brad’s soft lips left mine as he trailed them down the valley of my body before stopping just above the lacy fabric I was left in.
He looked up at me, eyes scanning mine for any hesitation. “Are you sure?” I nodded my head not wanting this moment to ever end.
Brad continued, planting kisses on either side of my thighs before pulling down my last piece of clothing and discarding it with the rest that laid on the floor. His lips lightly brushed over my clitoral causing me to let out a shaky breath. He smiled knowing how much of an affect he had on me. He brought his lips back down and placed a few more kisses to my skin before attaching them to my clit. I felt his finger brush between my swollen lips, collecting the wetness before pushing one of his digits into me. The pace was slow but deep causing me to let out small whimpers and moans whenever he brushed against my G-spot. I was a panting and sweating mess underneath him as I tangled my hands into his soft, chestnut locks, pulling at them every so often. He inserted another two fingers, quickening the pace as he did so. I felt my stomach tighten with each thrust of his fingers and mouth attacking my small bud. His name was falling out of my mouth repeatedly like it was the only thing I could say. He hummed into me causing my legs to twitch from the pleasure of it. I began to feel myself tighten around his fingers before finally hitting my climax.
I laid on my back for a few moments, trying to regain a normal breathing pace.
“You alright, angel?” Brad’s face hovered over mine with a wicked smile plastered to his lips.
I nodded, “Ya.” I breathed, smiling back at him.
I sat up noticing that his boxers were now in the collection of clothes on the floor. My eyes turned back to face Brad as I watched him pump himself a few times before the sound of tinsel ripping filled the room as he rolled the clear, latex material down his shaft. Moving closer to him, I reached for his member but he gently pulled away from my touch.
“Believe me,” He begun. “I don’t need anymore foreplay.”
His lips found mine again, guiding my back against the bed while supporting himself on his arms placed on either side of my head. Collecting my wetness with a few teasing strokes between my lips, I felt him begin to push himself into me slowly. A gasp left my lips while he slowly came to a halt.
“Are you okay?” Worry filled his voice as he searched my face for any signs of pain.
“It’s alright,” I rensured him. “I’ll adjust in time.” I nodded my head again once he didn’t start moving.
The pace was slow and passionate, something you wouldn’t expect from hearing the rumours of bad boy Bradley Simpson. Small whimpers and moans sounded in my ear from Brad while a few left me as well. It took him a few thrust before finding my G-spot causing me to gasp in pleasure. He began picking up the pace hitting the same spot repeatedly as my breath began to heighten. Moans, whimpers and gasps were the only sounds to fill the room. He buried his face into the crock of my neck, biting down on the sensitive skin to muffle his cries of pleasure. My nails raked down his back knowing that it would leave my mark on him. The familiar knot in my stomach returned for the second time tonight.
“Brad…” I breathed into his ear.
“I know.” He whispered back.
His hand found mine intertwining our fingers together while the other hand moved down to rub circled against my clit.
Brad’s moans were louder now, giving up on trying to muffle them. His lips trailed along the line of my jaw as I felt myself coming closer to the edge.
“It’s alright,” He told me. “Let it go.”
With that I came undone underneath him. I was a moaning mess, the only word I could get out was his name. He shortly followed after me, finding the spot in the crock of my neck to bury his head in whimpering and moaning like a broken record.
He moved off me and to his feet after a few seconds of relaxing to catch his breath. I heard something land in the trash before feeling the bed dip again from his weight. His strong arms pulled me against him as I rested my forehead against his solid chest.
“I don’t want this to be a one time thing.” He whispered in my ear.
I felt his fingers slip under my chin and pull my face up to his to give me a quick peck on the lips.
Rated: PG 13 (very mild talk of violence. Enjoy! <3
Aurora’s mother died in childbirth. With her, naturally. No one talked about it much, but she guessed perhaps her mother lost too much blood. Aurora didn’t have very extensive knowledge in the subject of birthing children, but what little she did hear of usually involved something along those lines.
If Aurora’s mother had survived, her life would have probably been very different. Her father wouldn’t see the defeated, ashen face of her mother each time he looked at his little girl’s pale cheeks and bright green eyes. And that blood red hair, the exact same shade as the woman who created her. Almost the exact shade of the life that drained so quickly from her. With each passing year, Aurora took on more and more of her mother’s qualities.
Her father wouldn’t have hated her for destroying the love his life with her very existence, if things had worked out. That was why he tried so hard to punish Aurora. He never outright said so, but she guessed it. Why else would he lay a brutal hand on her? What had she done to deserve such scorn? Even as a child who barely understood the world, she had a sense of why her home life was so challenging. What a terrible thing to know when you’re barely big enough to ride a bike.
But there was still some fortune, as dreary and small as it was. Her older brother, David.
She could think about him now without it hurting so much. She could conjure his face into her mind, that boyish smile he never grew out of, and she no longer felt sick with sadness for it. The pang of loss had dulled with time and the betrayal she felt for his absence had morphed into something like regret. For him or for her, she didn’t know.
David was endlessly kind, especially to Aurora. He was Amity through and through and though he had their father’s chocolate brown hair and long nose, he possessed nothing else of the cruel man. He was always gentle and friendly, and Aurora couldn’t recall a single time when his voice was ever raised in anger. When their father went to hit Aurora for not paying attention in class or daydreaming during chores, David courageously took up his position between them. He never fought back, never screamed or threatened the old man, but his solid presence was sometimes enough. It didn’t always do much good when they were younger and he barely reached his father’s waist, but soon David grew to stand equal to the bitter man’s stature.
He always promised Aurora he would protect her.
David had been fifteen when Aurora came home from class. She was so excited to give him the clay figure of a bird, that she hadn’t noticed the heavy silence in the room at first, or the elders standing in the corner of the room. She was told he was gone. Dead. Some underlying sickness no one had known about before. Their voices were so empty and void of any real sympathy. They hadn’t known him the way she knew him. That still stung, even now so many years later. The worst part was the way their father- no, just her father now- looked forlorn for a child he never loved, and the tears that fell from his eyes seemed more like acid. That made her bitter.
If David were still around, Aurora would probably have stayed in Amity. She would have never left him, not in this lifetime. He would have saved her, would have stopped their father from ever hurting her again. She knew deep down that when he was old enough, David would have found a home for them far away and she would have been safe. She wouldn’t have been pushed to join Dauntless by desperate self preservation and loneliness.
He would have known what to do in this situation, and he would have told Aurora to stick up for herself and don’t let anyone use her. She could practically hear it now, him telling her to straighten up and puff up her chest and put out her chin. And don’t ever look away.
’He can’t take anything away from you. You are who you are and that’ll never change. No one can hurt you if you don’t let them.’ Funny how those words had been meant for their dad, but they fit perfectly into the present situation she found herself in. What would he be saying to her now, if he knew that she had raised her hands in violence and had drawn the blood of other people? No better than their useless dad. Would he have been disappointed at her Choosing Ceremony?
Aurora realized that Four reminded her a lot of her brother. Not so much in physical similarities, but in manner. Four was firm with her, but always reassuring. Even his sparring moves held a presence of gentleness, like he didn’t want to be too rough with her because he sensed she needed a break. His questions were never prying, but he said what needed to be said even if Aurora didn’t feel like hearing it. He told her to suck it up, because no one could change anything for her but she herself. Of course she hadn’t told him about the more personal encounters between herself and Eric, but he understood the gist of being in a situation you felt you had no control over. Four was quick to catch on though, and Aurora got the impression he knew a little bit more than she was willing to reveal. Maybe he had seen this happen a lot. She wouldn’t be surprised if Eric had made a thousand girls feel like this.
The two were surrounded by a comfortable silence as he dipped a six inch piece of hardwood into bright red paint. The plan now was to teach her hand to hand weapons combat, mostly how to not get split from nose to navel by a blade. Rather than using a real knife though, he was using this wood and if he managed to touch her with it, the red would reveal the points of contact and create a map of her mistakes. Sometimes when you’re adrenaline was surging, you didn’t even know you were injured until it wore off and you felt the pain or saw the blood. He knew that all too well.
He had gone over the moves with her a dozen times now; ‘hands up, feet apart, keep your eyes on mine, not on the knife. Block with the outside of your arm when I swing.’
She was expecting him to turn and set up the scene before he attacked, so she was caught off guard when he wheeled around and brought the armed hand arching overhead towards her. The very edge of the stick grazed from her right shoulder to her left hip as she tried to leap back out of the way, leaving a thick smear of crimson paint trailing after it.
“You are very, very dead.”
“I didn’t know you were going to do that!” She pouted.
“Do you ever know when someone is going to pull a knife on you?”
“Do it again. I got it this time,” Aurora backed up a pace until they were more than an arm’s reach apart.
Again, Four didn’t hesitate or explain what his move would be. He ducked and lunged, moving more quickly than Aurora ever thought someone of his well-muscled size could. But she was ready.
Just as his arm whipped out, she ducked agilely beneath the line of fire and shoved her shoulder into his lower stomach and lurched, flipping him over just like he showed her the first time they trained together. With a surprised grunt, he tumbled to the floor, the fake knife falling from his fist and clattering just inches from his reach. This time, Aurora spun with him and before he could roll back onto his feet and grab the knife, she leaped onto him. Her knees straddled his stomach while one hand found his throat to hold him down and the other jerked the weapon up before he could find it.
Aurora was smiling with dark triumph. A thin red line of paint dripped horizontally under Four’s jaw while his eyes seemed dazed.
“You’re deader,” she panted.
Four waved his hands palm out in defeat, but the grin on his face was proud. “There you go. You won’t even need the rest of your team if you keep this up. But one thing…”
Suddenly he brought his knees up into her back and she went sprawling forward with a gasp. He was on her then, pinning her wrists to the ground in both hands.
“If you’re going to sit on someone, distribute your weight so they can’t do what I just did. Lord knows you don’t have much of it.”
Aurora breathed an embarrassed laugh and blew the hair out of her eyes. With a chuckle, Four released her and laid parallel with his back against the cold floor. For a moment, the only sounds were their breath as they both caught up.
A light above them flickered with an electric hum.
“Were you nervous on your first mission?” She suddenly asked.
Four peered sideways at her and propped himself up on an elbow. His gaze was speculative.
“Everyone is nervous on their first mission. And if they’re not, they’re lying.”
Aurora doubted Eric had ever been nervous in his life. She frowned at these thoughts.
Four reached out and placed a hand on her thigh and patted reassuringly, but the way it made Aurora’s breath stall made her think it was meant for something else. She gulped but didn’t scoot away, choosing instead to ignore it.
“You’ll do fine. Follow your orders and remember to keep your guard up and it’ll be a breeze. The Factionless like to make noise but rarely does it ever turn into an actual fight. At worst, you might need to flex your muscles to discourage them. They’re not a functioning organization, remember?”
Aurora breathed out through her nose and risked a glance up at him. His expression was inquisitive, maybe a little sympathetic for her. There wasn’t the edge of poorly disguised hunger that Eric possessed, and it made Aurora think that Four’s thoughts were totally genuine.
“Eric told me they got guns somehow. And they’ve gathered in a bigger group than usual and haven’t dispersed when threatened.” She tried to hide the worry in her voice but it didn’t quite work. Would she have to fight them? A group of faces she’d never seen before, people she’d never met angry with her to the point of violence. Everyone was telling her it would be no big deal, but she had never had real experience in combat apart from the one fight she half-lossed. The thought of being stuck on a mission with Eric in a group of full fledged Dauntless soldiers made her feel sick with anxiety.
Four rose a little then, balancing himself on his forearm and tilting his body to face hers. He was looming over her now, and the flickering light above cast shadows over his face.
“If you keep worrying about it, something bad will happen. Eric is difficult to work with and stubborn as hell in the best of times, but he’s not foolish enough to walk into a situation he doesn’t think he’ll get out of.”
Aurora did have to give him that. As deep as her sense of survival went, his had to be a mile deeper.
Four rubbed her thigh again, but she found it comforting rather than invading. She subconsciously gravitated towards it, seeking further reassurance. She didn’t feel like he was taking advantage of her like Eric would in this situation. Like Eric did last night. How could two Leaders be so drastically unsimilar? Two very different aspects of Dauntless life.
“Can I ask you something?” The words were out of her mouth before she had decided to speak.
“Go for it.”
She hesitated, trying to decide just how to put the tangled thoughts jumbling around inside her head together. When she did ask, her voice was slow and careful.
“Do you ever wish… you’d just gone Factionless instead?… Or that you’d stayed where you were?” Four had never told her anything about where he was originally from, whether he was a transfer or a born-Dauntless, but the way he understood her thoughts so perfectly made her think perhaps he had his own experience with similar problems and feelings of not belonging.
He seemed a little taken aback by her line of question. But he answered easily enough. He shrugged the shoulder he wasn’t bearing his weight on.
“Dauntless doesn’t have to be scary. It is what you make of it. Every faction has their ups and downs, but for me… Dauntless was a way to protect myself. A way to do good that I didn’t think I could ever achieve elsewhere. I’ve never met a transfer who didn’t feel the same, in a way. Everyone comes here to be better and braver than they were before.”
Aurora was silent for a long time, mulling over his answer. He was right, she knew that. But her reasons for transferring were a little more selfish than his seemed to be.
“I think I would have stayed in Amity if… if things had worked out a little differently. I wasn’t running to a better future. I was running away.” She sat up then and he slowly rose beside her. Never in her life had she hinted at her past to another person. Not even Lyanna or Jaime, her best friends, knew what her life had been like before.
Out of the pan and into the fire.
She felt a strong hand rubbing small soothing circles into the small of her back.
“That doesn’t make you a bad person or weak, if that’s what you’re wondering. Every person has their demons. It’s just a matter of how you fight them.” He stood to his feet and held out both hands to help her up as well.
Looking up, Aurora had almost forgotten the paint across his skin, which was still wet and glossy. She skimmed her first two fingers across it, scooping up some of the color, and proceeded to draw a smily face on his cheek. He laughed but held still while she let loose her artistic talents, but grabbed her before she could get away so he could do the same with the paint on the front of her shirt. Instead of a single happy face, he peppered both cheeks with lopsided flowers, then a sun with curvy heat lines on her freckled chin.
“There,” he took a step back to admire his work. “It’s impossible for you not to be happy with flowers and sunshine. Now let’s get some dinner.”
By the time dinner was being served, they had both washed the paint from their skin and Aurora had changed into a clean shirt.
A few people stared when Aurora strolled casually into the cafeteria with Four, making a point of not looking around, especially not towards Eric’s table. She shivered to think of his reaction at seeing her with Four. Well she had told him hadn’t she? He started this game first. She thought she felt someone’s gaze on her but didn’t know if it was just paranoia.
She and Four sat at the same table they had the first time they had breakfast together, at the far side of the cafeteria against a wall. Aurora sat with her back to the crowd.
“I was thinking,” Four mumbled through a mouthful of burger.
“Uh oh. That’s not good.” Aurora smirked when he halfheartedly tossed a baby carrot at her.
“Anyways. I was thinking, have you given any thought to what you want to do after initiation? Intelligence, training, guard?”
Aurora actually hadn’t thought of that at all. While all the other initiates were making plans for their roles in Dauntless, she had just been focusing on getting from one day to the next.
She sat back in her chair. “Not really to be honest. I guess that depends how things play out from here… I’ll be gone while initiation takes place for everyone else. I don’t know if that gives me an automatic pass or if I’ll get back and be kicked out.”
Four smiled and slid the rest of his half-eaten chocolate cake across the table to her. She stuffed a forkful of the dessert into her mouth. The sugary icing hurt her teeth but it was too good to go to waste.
“The only way you would fail is if you end up dead, and then hey, what is there to worry about?”
Aurora rolled her eyes sarcastically. “I feel so much better now, thank you Four! But in all seriousness, I don’t know. I’ve never even been into the intelligence room and I don’t know all that much about computers. I guess I could be a soldier. It seems pretty simple to just follow orders and go where I’m told to.”
Four took another bite of the burger while considering her answer. “I think you’d be good in intelligence. I can train you. It’s easy once you get the hang of it. Monitoring surveillance, writing protocol, following up on reports from other factions. You could work with me in the control room.”
Aurora was astonished to see that his face was completely devoid of any joke.
“Really? Why would you want that? Do you usually recruit initiates yourself?”
He shook his head, sipped the water in front of him. “No, never actually. I just like you.” He winked and Aurora’s face flushed.
“You’re smart, Aurora. Taking a job like soldiering would be beneath you. You’ve got more to offer than that. I don’t think you’d like anything in Leadership, but I do think you’d be good in the controls.” He spoke like a businessman, but the look in his dark eyes was ardent, eager.
Aurora was silent as she went over this revelation. It was tantalizing- surprising, but tempting. She had never really considered a position in the control room to be within her reach. The more she thought about it, the more interested she was. No daily combat, no exhaustive directives, no ending up on the other end of a loaded gun. She wouldn’t have to fight with the Factionless, or run patrols through the other three factions. She wouldn’t be stuck on the Wall freezing during winter and melting during the summer. And best of all, Eric wouldn’t be her boss. She knew Four wouldn’t make her do anything she wouldn’t want to.
She made up her mind.
“Okay. You’ve got a deal. When I get back, you can show me the ropes.”
“Great choice.” Four chucked another carrot at her playfully, and Aurora couldn’t help but feel hopeful.
I imagine holding your hand
Rubbing thumb against the back of it while we sit through a long drive
I imagine sweet kisses
Snuggling in each other’s arms
Long walks in torrential downpour
I imagine kissing your shoulders
But I also imagine licking them
Running my tongue along your warm, soft skin
The tip of my tongue dragging along your collar bone
Up your neck and behind your ear
I close my eyes
And I can almost hear you gasp
When I dig my nails into your hips
Licking along the shell of your ear
And breathing heavily into it
You’re all mine now…
I can almost feel your hips pressing into mine
Your crave for release
While I suck and bite my marks into your creamy skin
Your moans of frustration against my neck
Laying you down and running the tip of my tongue up your spine
From the base to your neck
Turning to kiss you deeply and pull you on top of me
Your cheeks turning red
Your breathing getting heavier
Your eyes getting dark
Your moaning more desperate
And I would fully succumb to you
Give in to your every want
Give in to your every craving
Give in to your every need
Fulfill every frustration
Quench every thirst
For the repay of your nails leaving Crimson trails down my back
For your teeth leaving purple indents in my neck and shoulders
To feel your teeth sink into my lip
To hear your sweet voice moaning out my name in a plea for more
To watch your gorgeous frame arch
In pure, unaltered pleasure
To hear the melody of your screams of total ecstasy
Created by pure passion at the fingertips of someone deeply in love with you
I would succumb to your every want
Your every need
Give in to the total pleasure
Of making love to your entire being
Summary: vampire!jungkook x reader (M) (smut, just smut)
Warning: kind of kinky, blood kink, vampire stuff, this is honestly the first decent smut I’ve ever written, I seriously can’t even see the word penis without giggling so this was an accomplishment. Enjoy.
Word count: 751
You remembered the color red, red like the embers of a burning flame, not quite deep enough to be considered red, as orange flecks made themselves known, and it was a beautiful dance between two colors, a fight to the death.
Red like the satin sheets upon the bed in which you rest your weary eyes, red like a blood moon, fervent, winsomely hanging there in the night sky.
Red like his eyes, both beautiful and devoid of all life.
Red, the only color flooding your hooded gaze as his pearly white fangs whispered lust onto your neck.
Trails of crimson drip down your breast, burning as they go, and with each drop of blood his tongue was sure to follow.
Like a puppet master, fondling the strings of its puppet, your body submitted to his touch, the core of you emitting a beat as steady as the heart, clenching repeatedly around nothing as he painfully, slowly made his way down your body,
“Jungkook…” Escaping your lips in a breathless, whisper of a moan.
He was always quick to silence you, digging his nails into your hips in an attempt to hold you still, as you unconsciously grinded into the air in anticipation.
“Patience, my love…” He whispered against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, dangerously close to where you craved him the most.
The familiar color red once again staining your thoughts as he pierced your skin, sucking gently, moaning into the mess he made, splayed across your thigh, a beautiful masterpiece created by him, because you were his canvas.
Your fingers tangled into his midnight black locks as his tongue teased at your essence, sinking into your core like quick sand, slowly and all at once.
And then you were no longer seeing red, but stars, as if you were being exorcized for the first time, the very soul in you on the verge of leaving your body.
Delicately he tasted you, every last drop, a pleasant mixture of everything you had to offer, strewn across his lips, over and over again he brought you to cloud nine and then dropped you to your death.
“Jungkook… Let me fucking cum.” You growled at him, as he smirked into the heat radiating from you.
“Oh no, no baby, not yet.” His words wove like velvet into your ears, intoxicating, and you realized then that he never had to touch you for you to reach the stars, he simply had to deny you of what you wanted most.
He kissed his way up the length of your body, his lips leaving faint prints of red as they went, until they came crashing into yours, hard enough to break you into pieces beneath him, but he would find a way to put you back together again, he always did.
“Y/N…should I continue? Or should I make you suffer..” He sighed into your neck, retracing the wounds he inflicted, moaning in delight.
You winced at the sudden contact, as he grinded into your core with no remorse.
“Jungkook…” You nibbled on the skin of your bottom lip, moaning quitely between each breath. “I need you, now.”
He hovered over you, his eyes pierced through yours like daggers laced with honey, as he gave into your plea, sheathing himself fully within you.
Your nails instinctively dug into the pale skin of his back, dragging wounds up and down, healing as fast as they appear.
A low, throaty chuckle escapes his lips as he watches you writhe beneath him,
“claw me to pieces baby, show me how good it feels.” His thrusts began to harden, as if he was desperately searching for something deep within you, and with each precise impact upon your sweet spot, he was closer and closer to finding it.
“F-fuck…I’m going to—” your desperate moans became muffled as you burried your face into the crook of his neck, riding our your high, and he was following pursuit.
The air was tinged with the smell of iron, and lust, breathlessly and lazily he pulled away from you, and you had never felt so empty.
Red was the color of passion, love, fire.
Red was the blood in your veins, giving life to your dark prince,
Red was the color of lips moving gently together, as the taste of metal ligered upon your tongue.
Red was the dawn that shone through the tinted glass windows,
You remembered red like the darkness remembers light,
And he was your darkness.
“Baby girl you gotta…get outta here…” Roman forced the words with a pained whine as he fell to his knees. His nails dug into the dirt as his blood dripped to the ground. He’d bit his lip so much that he’d tore through and the crimson liquid trailed down his jaw, pooling in his mouth and staining his teeth. Roman had been wound up this whole week and you suggested a stroll thinking it would help.
Roman yelled and you winced as you heard his bones cracking, changing, breaking and remolding.
It was absolutely terrifying.
“N-no…” you stood your ground though as you knelt before him and cradled his face. “I’m not gonna just leave you, okay? I’m right here, baby. I’m staying right here…”
“No, no-!” his head bowed as another crack echoed and you gasped, seeing his back arch. Tufts of black fur started to appear and spread along his body as Roman’s shift commenced. His groans and yells soon turned into growls and snarls but as his bright gold eyes snapped to yours, you froze.
“Roman?” you asked as the giant wolf stared you down. He took a tentative step forward as his features softened, making you release the breath you didn’t know you’d taken. With his tail tucked between his legs, he trot forward and bowed his head, making you smile. Gently running your hand over his head and across his spine, you kissed the wolf’s nose. “You’re alright, love. I’m right here…”
Y/n called Dean for the third time, hoping he would finally
“Y/n, why are you calling? You nearly done? We need some
food right now.” Dean said, hoping y/n would be back at the bunker soon from
the supply run.
Y/n choked on his blood slightly. He had been driving into
town. On the way his tyre popped. He thought nothing of it and got out to
examine the damage, only to be knocked out. Waking up, he looked around,
finding himself to be tied to a chair. A demon stood in front of him.
They had been hunting this demon for a while now. Y/n
struggled against the ropes as the demon went on about killing him. After a few
minutes he managed to free himself and charged towards the demon. He put up one
hell of a fight, killing it but not before he was stabbed in the abdomen, a
deep cut, losing a lot of blood every second. As he dragged himself out of the
building, he realized he was just a little way from the bunker. But he knew he
wasn’t going to make it.
“Yea Dean, I’m fine” he said, his voice weak and strained
from the pain.
“Ok. Well, how long you gonna be? I need a beer. This
research is making my brain hurt”.
Y/n chuckled. Dean was so silly sometimes. He was like a
grown child despite being one of the strongest and bravest people y/n knew.
“I’ll-I’ll be there soon Dean. I just wanted, I-I wanted to
tell you something”
“I love you Dean” he admitted. He had feelings for Dean from
the start but never thought about admitting them. Dean was a ladies man. He
always had been. Y/n knew there was no chance his feelings would be
reciprocated, but Dean needed to know this. He needed Dean to know how he felt.
“Ookkaaay. Well you’re family y/n. So… you know” Dean
replied. He had trouble telling people he loved them. He usually let them know
through his actions of a few select phrases which meant the same thing to him.
Y/n knew this was Dean’s way of saying he loved him back. If
only it wasn’t as family.
“No Dean, I mean I love you. I’m in lo-”, y/n had a coughing
fit, spitting out blood.