#Probably doesn't help that I read this At Night In the Dark lol - actual shivers

[sysig]

One better (Patreon)

[noctumbra]

𝒇𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒐𝒖𝒕

summary ─ you were a trouble. you were a walking sin. that was okay, though. james knew how to deal with problems like yourself.

pairing ─ dark!serialkiller!bucky barnes x reader

warnings ─ DARK FIC, smut, +18, slight dub con, explicit murder scene, major character death, rough sex, mean!bucky, degradition, name calling, alcohol consumption, pussy slapping, shitty smut lol, bucky is stuck up on morality (?) aka he doesn't like when women show some skin off because he thinks it's wrong, mentions of rape (didn't happen), biblical references??

a/n ─ hellooo! this is one of those rare times where i write dark fic lmao, this is my entry for @bitchassbucky 's 2K writing challenge. my prompt is "if you're reading this, i'm dead." with criminals au. i really hope you like it. please leave a comment if you do, thank you so much! <333

explicit murder scene starts after the * mark.

You were too close.

The guy’s hands were way too close you. His eyes were roaming all over your body like a hungry panther; he was waiting for the right moment to attack and feed on you, and the worst thing was you were letting him look.

It was not okay in James’ book. You shouldn’t have been doing that, shouldn’t have flaunted your body the way you did: A dress that was too short and showed your legs more than it should and its cleavage was too deep, even from his seat, which was at the far end of the bar, he could almost see your nipples, and then you had these high heels. They were thin heels, very high, that made your feet look elegant but at the same time sinful. They were putting the attention to your legs.

James tilted his head just a little bit to his side as he watched you.

You were laughing freely, loudly, and throwing your head back. You were revealing your neck like that, this time drawing the attention to your almost bare chest. Sometimes you touched the person who made you laugh; a gentle caress on their arm, or a light grab on their shoulder… You didn’t know what kind of effect you had on them; the men shivered every time you touched their arms or shoulders. They were getting hungrier, James could tell. Their eyes were roaming all over your body even more, they were black, almost, and they kept licking their lips as if to stop themselves from drooling.

He shook his head in disappointment. Some men were really weak, he thought as he watched one of the guys adjusting their pants because they became tight with the sight of you.

You were a trouble.

You were a walking sin.

That was okay, though. James knew how to deal with problems like yourself.

──

James approached you slowly. He did not want to frighten you or give you the wrong vibe. He handled with the other guys at the bathroom when they visited it to empty their bladders. He could talk to you without being interrupted, now. Although he probably had twenty or so minutes before the guys were discovered by some other patrons in the bar, so he had to charm you in a short amount of time and had to convince you to join him for the night.

He was in a cleansing mood.

So, he ordered a soda. He didn’t drink on nights when he was working, and he had plans for you and preferred to stay fully sober. The bartender put the drink in front of him silently and went back to drying the glasses. James took a sip, watching you with the corner of his eyes.

“Lovely dress,” he murmured gently, his eyes on the bartender. “You look like summer in the middle of a stormy night.” He turned his head to you; his blue eyes were intense as they took your shocked but pleased face in. You ducked your head.

“Thank you,” you whispered, but he heard you anyway. He was surprised that you were playing the innocent card. You were far from being innocent, he could tell. He only needed to take one look, and he knew right away. Maybe that was how your way. Maybe that was how you lured your preys in. James smiled despite his chain of thoughts.

“You’re very welcome,” he nodded, and then turned his body to you. “I’m James,” he extended his hand. He didn’t mind you knowing his name; you were going to be cleaned at the end of the night anyway. You smiled.

“Y/N,” you said, gently shaking his hand. James almost hummed loudly at the touch of your soft skin against his. His hands were rough, their texture wasn’t soft anymore, but yours were. They were soft. He liked that. It was nice to feel soft things against his own skin every once in a while. “You look tired,” you murmured after two beats of silence. James barely kept his smile soft and contained the twitch of his lips which threatened to form his smile into a smirk.

You were desperate.

The only thing he needed to do was to show you some affection, pour out some sweet words and now, you were desperate to talk to him more.

“I am,” James responded with a neutral voice, but he was mindful to add some sort of a sigh at the end. “Not so much, but I am.” He sent you an equally tired smile that matched up with his story. You gave him a soft look before inching your chair towards his. You were unaware of stepping into a very feral wolf’s den.

──

It wasn’t a hard work for him, to keep you talking and drinking while he was charming and maybe seducing you all along.

You were a little tipsy as he walked up to you anyway, James just made sure that you kept drinking. You were doing every single thing that was wrong in his book; the cleansing he’d be doing tonight with your help was going to be a good one.

“What brought you here?” You asked him. You weren’t slurring yet, and honestly, James didn’t want you that drunk, so after you were finished with the glass you had, he was going to stop you. As much as he liked seeing you indulge yourself into the sins like this, because it was going to make his cleansing better, he wanted you to enjoy yourself on your last moments.

James shrugged. “Just passing by, to be honest,” he murmured. It wasn’t a lie. He was passing by. He would be leaving this small town in the morning, most likely 6AM sharp. “How about you, sweetheart?” He asked. His head cocked to his side, eyes teasingly narrowed and lips stretched into a dangerous smirk. He was a handsome man, James knew that, and he liked to use it to his own advantage in these kinds of things.

“I’m going home,” you said. “It’s a long way, though, so I’m just spending the night here.” You sent him a small smile and finished the last drop of your drink. Just when you lifted your hand to ask for more, James placed his hand over the glass.

“I think it’s enough for the night, don’t you think?” He murmured, and then he stood up and moved closer to you. “Besides it would ruin the fun if you were to get too intoxicated.” James saw your eyes getting heavier with a hazy look, saw your chest stop moving and heard the hitch in your breath.

“What fun?” You asked. James let his lips form into a smirk, this time.

“If you join me for the night, I think you can find out,” he whispered, leaning in just a little. You whimpered softly. You were turned on; you were desperate for him, for what he could give you, what he could make you feel. It should have felt empowering, but it didn’t. It made him feel disgusted.

“Alright,” you agreed easily.

Wrong. This was wrong, what you were doing. Wrong. You shouldn’t have agreed to spend a night with a stranger this easily. You shouldn’t have been let that stranger seduce you like this, but you were naïve. You were desperate.

So, James smirked. He held out his arm and walked out of the bar with your arm looped into his.

──

James wasn’t a big fan of having sex. He knew he could go without having it, and he had, once. It wasn’t hard, abstaining himself from sex or any sort of psychical contact with anyone. It was very easy, actually, but it wasn’t worth it. He’d stop by one of the towns he was passing by, have a wild night and relieve himself and then he’d move on.

He called them cleansing.

He’d find a woman, watch them and try to decide if they were worthy of his cleansing nights. If they were, James would take them back to his motel room. He’d have his sex, give them pleasure, make them take whatever he gave them, and when he was free of his sins, he’d get rid of them.

Tonight was his cleansing day, and you were his vessel.

─

“Fuck!” You moaned as James slammed you back against his motel room door. His mouth was assaulting your neck, your bare chest, all the skin you showed to those men and made them lose their control, James left his mark.

His hands were under your dress. They were running along your soft skin, along length of your legs, and he grabbed your ass beneath the skirt to haul you up. With a soft moan you held tightly onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, you let him carry you to the bed. His lips were stroking yours so perfectly, you couldn’t keep your moans to yourself.

“You like this, don’t you?” He murmured against your lips as he laid you on the bed. He was on fours between your legs, your dress skirt bunched and ankles looped behind his thick thighs. “You like having some touching you like this.” He trailed a finger gentle from your ankle to your hips, digging his nails lightly. You sighed.

“Yes,” you moaned. “Yes, I love it.” James hummed. His fingers grabbed a hold of your flimsy panties, ripping them off with a flick of his fingers. You gasped, but it was so hot to watch, you couldn’t say anything. James discarded the ripped material. He hummed once again as he swiped his fingers through your core, causing you to buck your hips towards his touch.

“So wet…” He whispered. “You’re turned on, hm?” You nodded, desperately biting your lip to contain the sounds you wanted to let out. James pulled on your dress. “Take this off,” he ordered, a dangerous growl in his voice. You shuddered and scrambled to obey him. Quickly sliding the straps of the dress, you slid out of it in a blink. You threw the dress on one of the chairs in the room and settled under him again with a sigh.

James was right about almost being able to see your nipples because you weren’t wearing anything to cover them underneath that dress. He growled. You were so careless with your body, he realized. You never thought about what might happen to it before you threw it towards someone that could charm you with handful of words.

James wanted to laugh: You were so fucking easy.

Licking his lips, he ran his hands all over the now-available naked skin. It was very soft to touch, warm and smooth. It felt nice under his fingertips. James wanted to dig his nails and draw some blood just to ruin the perfect smoothness of your skin. He wanted to mark it, wanted to destroy its beauty so that no one would want to touch it ever again.

“Mm,” he heard you hum. Ignoring your writhing, James continued to stroke the warm skin beneath him. James sighed. “James…” You breathed, eyes closed and mouth open.

“What is it?” James asked. “What do you want, sweetheart?” You wiggled and writhed under him again. He could see that you were shying away from him for some reason, and he was intended to find out why. “Mm? Tell me. What is it?” You bit your lip, watched his eyes darken with the smallest action.

“I, um,” you whispered. “Can you be rough with me?” You asked gently. James narrowed his eyes. They were filled with amusement.

“You wan’ me to rough you up, love? Hm?” He leaned in and grabbed your face in his palm, squeezing your jaw, he pulled it towards his. He nudged your nose with his own softly. “You wan’ my bruises all over your body? Wan’ me to mark you up?” You were nodding excitedly; head bobbing up and down, eyes glimmering with anticipation, James thought you were adorable. He chuckled darkly. “Use your words,” he commanded with a low, rough voice.

“Yes,” you moaned loudly and whimpered. “Yes, I want your marks!” James hummed. It was a content, happy sound.

“Good, baby,” he whispered and flipped your over in a blink. He pulled your hips up as he placed a hand on your face and buried it into the bedding, almost constricting your breathing. You groaned throatily. “This what you wanted, yeah?” He leaned in until his lips were next to your ear. “You gonna get it.”

Briefly pulling away, James took off his clothes and laid them on the chair all folded. He climbed up on the bed, took his position between your thighs and pressed his groin against yours. Your dripping core felt warm and slick against his hard on. He closed his eyes and grunted lightly at the feeling, hips moving slightly. You wiggled your hips, pressed your ass back at him and coated his erection with your slick. James groaned. His hands were quick to find your hips and grabbing them tightly.

“You do not move unless I tell you so,” he snarled. His hand released your ass cheek and slapped it harshly, making the flesh jiggle. “You are to follow my orders,” he snarled again as he slapped the other cheek. You whimpered. “You disobey, and I’ll make sure you’re in pain.” He quickly gave you a slap right on your clit, making you shout into the bedding. “You hear?” You nodded.

“Yes, yes, I hear,” you whined. “’m sorry. I’ll follow your orders, sorry,” you mumbled, tears gathering in your eyes. James smiled.

“Good girl,” he whispered. The hand that was still resting on your ass sneaked its way up into your hair, and he yanked it harshly. You cried out. Your hands grabbed his thick thighs as something to hold on when he pulled your body flushed against his. “The sounds you make,” he snarled. He released his hold on your hair. “Grab the condom. It’s in the drawer.” James pointed the one on your left, and you leaned to get it.

After he put on the condom, he cornered and caged you on the bed, under him. You were breathing heavily, he could see how wet you were and how warm your body had become. “I’m gonna be rough,” he warned you. “I’m gonna degrade you, slap you, pull your fucking hair and I will not stop, y’hear me?” You nodded. That was exactly what you wanted from him. “Yell as loud as you want. Let’em know I’m making you feel so good.” He kissed you on the lips once and slid inside of you in one thrust.

You groaned loudly as your eyes rolled back. They way he filled you was so fucking perfect, you felt yourself tear up. Your hands were holding onto his biceps, nails digging softly as James started thrusting without missing a beat.

The pace he set up was hard and almost punishing. All the rage and tension in his body was loaded into his thrusts, making your body jolt up and down every single time his hips kissed yours. The sound of skin-slapping-skin was almost too loud, but James closed his eyes as he listened to it. His hands were grabbing your thighs tight enough to leave bruises in its wake, nails digging hard enough to draw some blood. James growled.

“So good,” he murmured to himself as he once again flipped you onto your stomach. He watched the jiggle of your ass with his each thrust, watched how perfect it was and warm it made him feel. It sent tingles all over his body. Pulling at your hips, he positioned you half-sitting on his lap, half-lying onto your stomach. He was hitting and reaching deeper with each movement of his cock, he knew it. Your screams of pleasure were letting him know. “Hmm, damn…” He groped your breasts. Pinching the soft, loose flesh, he pulled at your nipples.

“James!” You moaned, but you were slurring. James grinned devilishly. He sneaked his hand from your breast to your pussy and slapped it. Your hips twitched, and he slapped it again. Your walls were rippling around him like mad, James was loving it. “Oh, fuck!” You cried out as he pinched your clit. Tears were freely rolling down on your cheeks, but they were pleasant ones.

“Yeah?” James hissed. “You feelin’ good, slut? Hm? Tell me.” He listened to your litany of ‘yeses’ and moans and whimpers. He dug his nails on your breasts, digging them deep and dragging them down roughly. You shouted. James could feel the trickle of blood on his fingertips, and he chuckled darkly.

“We are just starting, dove,” he whispered into your ear and wrapped his arm around your throat.

****

James watched you as you dozed on and off. You were sprawled onto the bed, starfishing, and had a dopey smile on your face. You were so beautifully blessed out, James felt proud. His eyes roamed all the marks and bruises he left on your gorgeous body: Bite marks, handprints, nails… They looked incredible.

“Damn,” he heard you whisper. You giggled. You sounded drunk, but it wasn’t because of the booze you consumed earlier, it was all sex. “This was the best fuck I’ve ever had,” you said, grinning. James just hummed. Lifting himself on his strong legs, he walked over to his small bag. He opened it.

His clip point bowie knife was winking at him cheekily in his bag, and James smiled. He grabbed it gently. Fingertips running over the sharp and smooth edge of it, James sighed. This knife had served him so well over the years, it became his lucky charm and his go-to. Tonight, it was going to serve him once more.

“Are you still there?” You murmured, head lifting tiredly. “Or have I been talkin’ to myself all alon’?” You chuckled.

“’m here,” James whispered. You hummed, head falling onto the pillow. He walked over to your tired and used body. Your eyes were closed, but you had a happy smile on your face. James stroked your cheek as he mounted you.

“Mmm,” you protested lightly. “You wore me out. Can’t go again.”

“I don’t want you to,” James whispered, licking his lips hungrily. His pupils dilated with the anticipation. His hand moved to your hair from your cheek and he stroked it, too. You purred. James grinned. He looked like a mad man with a grin like that, he was aware, but this was his favorite moment.

He fisted his hand into your hair, yanking you half-upright. Without letting you understand what was happening, he ran the knife along your throat. A clean, deep cut. He heard your gurgled breath, watched the blood pouring out.

James smiled at your half shocked and half blessed face as he watched the blood pouring out of your body and pet your hair all the while. He could feel the relief filling his body already. He sighed deeply, relishing the feeling.

He loved his cleansing nights.

He loved watching them fading out.

It was why he was created.

──

Another body was found exactly a month later after the last one.

Despite the undisturbed look in general, he could see couple bruises peeking under the clothing that wrapped her body innocently. Rogers knew what he was going to find when he dug a little deeper. He knew how all the bruises the killer left behind was going to look like. He also knew that the forensics was going to say she was most likely got raped, but it wasn’t true.

Rogers had been working on this killer’s case for some time, now. He had seen cases of his killings enough to know that he cared about consent. The bruises, damage on genital parts on the bodies were all asked for. Rogers felt like he knew the killer like a best friend with how much personality to put into his… craft.

He would watch them first, seized his options. That was how he’d choose his next victim, most of the time. Then, he’d approach them, make small talk maybe, and charm them right away. It was a funny and humiliating fact that they had no visuals about the killer; no one seemed to saw his face, or remembered it. Rogers figured he must at least have a decent enough face to charm the women the way he did. Then, he’d take them to one of the rooms in the motel nearby. He’d get his pleasure, satisfy himself, and then. Then, he’d get to work.

This one, the body in front of him, was definitely his work.

The scene Rogers was facing was weirdly peaceful. It was by a lake with lots of willow trees surrounding it. It was almost 5AM in the morning; the cool breeze of the night was even sharper now. There was no noise, only owls making soft cooing sounds. The darkness of the sky was the darkest before the sun peeked through its black curtains.

However, Rogers was not there for the scenery. Not that kind, at least.

She was standing by one of the willow trees. Her body was positioned in such way that it looked like she was just leaning against the tree and watching the view in front of her. It might have looked normal, like nothing was wrong if she was wearing a coat or something, but she wasn’t. The white dress she had on was beautiful. It was simple, no designs or anything. The dress had long sleeves; the fabric was covering her chest up to her neck/shoulder joint and the skirt part of it was reaching to her ankles. She had matching flats on her feet. The skirt was only allowing Rogers to have very small peek of her skin.

Her hair looked clean when he came closer. It was up in a half-braid, thrown over her right shoulder. Her hands were clasped in front of her in a submissive way, her fingers were laced together. She had an also white, silk scarf covering her neck. Simple silver earrings were put, she looked really beautiful.

Her face, however, was the creepiest part.

It looked almost alive; she had a serene look on her face, a faint smile on her lips and the look in her eyes were soft. She really looked like she was watching the view, but she was dead. Her skin looked undisturbed, but Rogers knew that if he were to rip the dress off, he’d find her genital organs all mangled. He would also find all the bruises that this elegant dress was perfectly covering up.

“Same guy?” Wilson asked as he approached Rogers. He nodded. His blue eyes were inspecting the girl’s body carefully. “These poor girls,” Wilson sighed. “What is he trying to do, I don’t get it.”

Rogers knew what he was trying to do.

“He’s stopping them from sinning ever again,” he murmured as he eyed the note where the killer pinned the note. It was sitting right over her heart innocently, an elegant hand writing was smiling at him gently on the cream-colored paper. One sentence was striking, but he could see more things were written on the small paper. It was that one sentence that was haunting him in his nightmares. Rogers counted exactly seven drops of blood on the paper. One of the drops was darker than the other: It was the third one.

“Does that mean anything?” Wilson frowned. He was new to this case, so he didn’t know the meanings of the small details the killer loved to leave behind.

“Yeah. Seven drops. Seven deadly sins. Third drop is darker than the others which indicate which sin she had died from.”

“Which is?”

As he answered Wilson, Rogers sighed deeply.

“Lust.”

𝙸𝙵 𝚈𝙾𝚄'𝚁𝙴 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂, 𝙸'𝙼 𝙳𝙴𝙰𝙳...

[honeygingergemini]

Soft

pairing: sam wilson x reader 

word count: 2.9k

warnings: angst (I think... I hope... I tried lol), soft smut (??? if that’s even a thing), sex and tears 

... 

This was your usual routine. You two would be out with friends. Innocent looks would transform into heated glares. Those heated glares held promises of falling into one another at the end of the night. Tonight was different, it started the same but ended differently. 

You hold on to the rim of the bar, pulling your waist to its large wall awaiting the fun the night brings. You’re early, for the first time in your life. You wait for familiar bodies to surround you. You wait for him. As time dwindles on, your comrades make their appearances. Some debut as pairs, some solo, but they’re all welcomed with love just the same. You didn’t see him come in, but you felt him. The familiar pull your body feels whenever he’s near beings to activate. Your eyes search the bar, unaware your body is looking for him but when you find him, you smile. You raise your hand and wave as your companions do the same. 

He makes his rounds giving quick hugs to everyone. The normal eye is not trained to see he spends more time on you. Your eyes are not trained to it. His hands rub against your back as he reaches for a beer. He feathers his fingers through your new hair. 

“It’s straight.” He says surprised. No need for formal hellos, Sam always jumps all in with you. 

“Yeah,” You run your hands through your hair. “Do you like it?” You smile up at him. 

“Yes.” It comes out quickly. Too quickly for him, he feels embarrassed. He continues to lighten the burn in his chest. “It’s nice, you make it look nice.” Hands still entwined in your straightened locks. “I still like your curls better though.” He smirks. You roll eyes feigning annoyance. 

“I didn’t ask what you liked better,” Your eyes roll in a playful manner as you roll your ‘R’ “I asked if you like my hair, that’s it!” You wave your hands to bring attention to locks. The grin he wears digs deeper into his face. It happens so fast you never expected it. Your view that was once watching your friends fooling with the billiards table was now viewing the dark lid of the four walls currently surrounding you. A tiny, minuscule whimper leaves your lips. That is enough to fuel Sam’s fire. 

“This may be more fun than your curls…” He tugs back again loving his new found control. “I can actually hold it with one hand.” Sam speaks but you’re in another world. A world where Sam has you against the wall of your apartment… or maybe his, his is nicer. Or possibly he has you on all fours on his plush bed, head pulled back to the heavens by the strength of his mischievous left hand. The right hand is just as frisky. It would probably start at your bosom, tweaking one of the twin knobs on your chest. It might tickle its way down your soft tummy before stopping at its predetermined spot. The sweet bundle of nerves that has gifted you with endless pleasure time and time again. Sam’s laugh pulls you from the movie in your mind. 

“You’d like that, huh?” His chuckle deepens as you scan the room. It’s as if the world is oblivious to the moment between you two and that’s nice. It’s something personal Sam can hold on since you give him nothing.The two of you separate, but it doesn't feel that way. Your presence is overwhelming to him. Sam notices every laugh, every expressive face, every swing of that body he adores so much. 

As if you feel him looking your eyes connect. That always happens. Your eyes are low and glossy. Those big browns capture him every time. It starts with a simple gaze that is quickly interrupted. Then Sam feels your eyes on him again, he tries so hard to pay attention to the story Steve excitedly explains, but he can’t. Your dark orbs trace his body in a way that is iniquitous. He can tell you’re tipsy, you get lusty when you’re tipsy. He begins to fumble, refusing to meet your eyes, but you don't mind. Your eyes just continue to undress him and his heart rate increases. He’s now fidgeting like an idiot. His hands move from the collar of his cotton covering then to adjusting the jacket adorning his body. His restless nature knocks over not only one, but two beers. Steve’s as well as his. 

“You okay?” Steve inquires about the sudden change in demeanor. 

“Yeah… I just… I need some air.” Sam makes his way towards the exit. And of course, on his way out he catches you with a snicker behind dainty fingers, laughing at his boyish behavior. His center drums uncontrollably. The cool night calms him briefly as he regulates his breathing. Behind his close lids he sees you, then he feels you. 

“You okay Mr. Wilson?” The same desire filled mug stretched across your face makes all his deep breathing go to waste again. You don’t notice. You never notice. Maybe you’re naive, or maybe you choose to ignore the signs. You don’t wait for Sam’s answer. Instead, you bring your cold hand underneath clothing to his warm midriff and feel around. “I have ideas on how I can make you feel better.” You extend yourself to place gentle kisses to his face. You pull his hand already knowing his answer, and the direction to his apartment. 

The walk over is quiet. Comfortable and silent. There are coy looks and frisky hands, but overall everything is innocent. The innocence ends once you cross the threshold of Sam’s beautiful apartment. The first kiss is rushed. It is familiar to your normal routine. Grabby hands squeeze hard and pull even harder. First it’s Sam’s jacket, then yours, last his shirt. He pushes your body against the wall with ease. 

Your mouths meet and it’s desperate. Your hands move across his upper body feeling every ridge and dip he possesses. Your right leg is raised to lazily wrap around his waist, his hands cup your face making sure you’re close enough. He bucks his hips up to regain position but it impacts your core differently. You mew out your pleasure and want him to give you more. 

“Again please.” You’re always so polite, he adores that. His lips find yours again as he fulfills your request. You moan tasting him. He tastes of ginger beer and… orange?...maybe? Your usually sharp brain can not decode it because your shirt is being removed and your bare nipples are being greeted by a heated stare but cold air. 

“Like what you see Wilson?” His mouth delves in immediately adding his internal warmth to your external body. His tongue swirls around your areola and you pull him closer. How that is even possible is unknown. Sam grunts out pleasure as if he’s the receiver. In some ways he is, he feels pleasure from pleasuring you. 

“Uhh… Sam… please…” There you go, begging again, causing his heart to speed up again. He switches position, now sharing his attention to the other breast while kneading the lubricated one. “Oh my…” You whisper more so to yourself than him. He needs to be inside you. Now.

Sam lifts your entire body into his hands carrying you down the familiar hallway. Your arm wraps around his neck and your hand cradles his face in a way that pulls at heart and messes with his mind. Your lips meet his in their usual frenzy, but he doesn’t want that today. One of his strong arms grips your waist and he holds your head in place. He takes control guiding both of your lips in a slow waltz. There’s gentleness in the kiss that he’s never experienced with you. His lips have your bottom lip in a demure hold. He sucks in the silky flesh wondering how you keep them so soft all the time. 

“Mmmhhm” A shiver runs through you as you moan. The reaction is foreign to you. You’ve never experienced a kiss like this before. It felt different. Sam was different. You separate from the kiss looking at him with uncertainty. You couldn’t dwell on the kiss too long because you were tossed onto Sam’s king size bed. You looked up at him as you pant, taken aback. Sam quickly runs a heavy palm along the center of your body stopping when it meets denim. 

In a flash, your denim is discarded along with the lacy covering protecting your sex. You’re on your knees with your head tilted back attempting to remove Sam’s trousers but also keep up his domineering kiss. It’s like you don’t have control of your hands, you look down and watch your fumbling hands mess with the loop of the belt. Sam’s light hearted chuckles reach your ears causing you to look up at him. 

“I’m usually better at this…” You pout with soft eyes. Sam looks deep into your eyes as if trying to see something more. You rise yourself slightly to kiss him. “Help me.” you mumble against his lip. 

Sam takes the reins helping you remove his bottoms. His lips return to yours as he begins to crawl into the bed. He hovers your body, getting you to lay on your back. He brings his hand to your silky folds familiarizing himself with the feeling of you. The kiss continues getting sloppier as you have trouble holding your moans back. 

“Sammy…” Your head tilts back as Sam strums your body. 

“That feel good, princess?” 

“Mmhmm.” It’s hard to formulate words when his hands are on you, touching you like that. You reach between the two of you to stroke him. 

Y/N’s cold hands contrast the warmth radiating off Sam’s body causing him shutter in her grasp. Sam’s digits dipped into Y/N’s heated core. He’s done this countless times before but for some reason it all feels new tonight. As if he’s making up for lost time. 

He continues to play with her pulling sweet melodies from her. It was supposed to be fun, only fun, and it was. But somewhere in the midst of restless night, innocent texts, and scandalous meetups lust turned to love for Sam. He’s unsure how to sway his feelings. He was unsure if he really wanted to sway his feelings. 

Take it slow. his mind read out to him. and so he did. His middle and ring finger dip agonizing slow causing Y/N’s back to arch. He continues his slow assault watching the effect he has on her body. Sometimes swells in his chest. Pride. Your moans help to build his arousal. He wants nothing more than to be in you right now. 

“Sam!” Y/N whines at the loss of Sam’s fingers. Sam lifts up pumping himself as he watches Y/N lazily bring a hand to her center mimicking his self pleasure. 

“Come here.” Y/N beckons Sam over. “Lemme make you feel good.” she mumbles with closed eyes. That was enough for him. It shouldn’t be enough, but it was. He guides his tip to her center, coating himself with her arousal. Lewd noises fill the room as the woman beneath him withers. His head slips beyond her opening and he freezes. She feels so good. Too good. He scans her face as he leans down to meet chest to chest. Sam moves again, completely filling her up with one swift thrust. She takes him well, she always takes him well. 

Sam is a dutiful lover. He pays attention. He looked for cues to help him please whoever he was with. He’d thrust in many different directions hitting many different spots, whichever spot caused you to moan the loudest is the spot he would zone in on. Hitting it repeatedly, making you see stars. Sam raised Y/N’s leg to his shoulder and that's where things changed. 

His fast pace movement slowed as he drove into you. His tip dipped into your fervid center bit by bit connecting his hips to you. He then pulls out just as leisurely, savoring the vice grip of your snatch. He pistons his hip hitting a spot unknown to you. 

“Fuck Sammy,” You heave. Every touch suddenly felt overwhelming. You were aware of his thumb rubbing circles into your knee while the other rubbed circles onto your clit. His slowed rhythm was unprecedented. No one has ever gone this slow with you, not even your first. 

All of that wasn’t what tipped her over the edge, it was the look. Sam wore an expression she couldn’t understand. His usual furrowed brow and dark eyes were replaced with something softer. Something much warmer than what she’s used to. He was looking into her eyes silently commanding her to not look away. 

“Stop.” it’s all too much. “Sam… please stop.” This feels too personal. 

Sam rolls to a complete stop. The love is removed and his face is filled with concern. 

“What, what is it?” He grabs her face pulling her up. Y/N hadn’t realized she started crying until Sam was wiping her tears away. He’s removed himself completely from her, now worried.

 “Y/N?” She sniffs and looks over to him. “What’s wrong? Talk to me, please.” 

“This…” Y/N took a deep breath to calm her nerves, but it didn’t help. “This… it um… it feels… different.” She didn’t know how to express what she was feeling. 

“How different?”

“It was…”  It was too much. Too much energy, too much passion. Too much of… “It’s just not something I'm used to.” Or comfortable with. “It felt a little too…” Intense. 

She didn’t have to say the words for Sam to understand her. The silence that filled the room was overbearing. Y/N used her arms to cover her body suddenly feeling extremely exposed. Sam hands rub soft patterns into her back as he wipes her remaining tears away. He’s never seen her like this, he’s unsure of his next move. After what seemed like hours Sam finally builds confidence to inquire. 

“Was it… was it bad?” He questions and she pauses. 

Was it bad? No. 

With a light shake of her head she answers Sam’s question. Her chin rests on her knees as she looks at the man before her. 

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” 

“Um.” Y/N sniffs and thinks. “I don’t know what happened. I… I think I got overwhelmed.” 

“But you were crying, like a lot.” His eyes burn holes into you. “Was I hurting you?” Again you shake your skull. 

“It was… really gentle.” You hate how pathetic you sound. “I’m… I’m not used to the softness.” You mumble feeling ashamed of your confession. 

“Oh… oh okay.” He breaths out. Your reveal was enough to make him end all the previous plans he had for the night. He maneuvers around the room to pull sweatpants to his hips. He then takes his shirt and covers your body. 

“We don’t have to stop.” You grab his wrist suddenly feeling guilty. “I-I can uh… um finish you off you know I don’t-”

“Hey.” Sam pulls your head up to look at him. He looks at you for a long time. Your glossy eyes were breaking his heart. “You don’t need to do anything. I’m fine, okay?” You nod your head in his hands. He places a soft kiss to your forehead and you release a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in. He turns to walk away but you pull him back to you. You sit up on your hunches and wrap your arms around his neck. 

“Thank you.” You whimper into his neck. Taking a deep breath you continue. “Thank you for being so soft… with me.” You sink further into his neck. “It means a lot to me.” You kiss his cheek then the corner of his mouth. All gentle, all kind, all innocent. Sam looks at you again, expression unreadable. It looks at if he’s going to say something but then decides against it. 

“I’m gonna go get snacks so we can watch a movie, okay? Just lay down and wait for me.” His calming aura releases some of your anxiety. You nod and watch him turn to leave. You close your eyes, inhaling and exhaling slowly, letting go of the remaining nerves you possess. 

Sam returns with a bowl of popcorn and a box of blueberry little bites that you adore so much. He passes you a pouch of the mini muffins and a water before settling in the bed next to you leaving space between you two. He starts a movie, mentioning something about how Bucky and Steve told him to watch it. 

You finish your muffins and half of your water before really turning your attention to the movie. Out of the corner of your eye you can see Sam placing his snack down symbolically throwing in the towel on the remaining popcorn. You’re hyper conscious of him. His tongue traces his teeth behind a closed mouth. His lower body shifts moving the duvet exposing his middle. The soft rise and fall of his chest summons you. 

You roll over, closing the distance between the two of you. Your arms lightly wrap around Sam’s midriff, snuggling deeply into his side. You feel him looking at you but you ignore him, eyes focused on the movie. When Sam finally guides his attention back to the movie you settle a few soft kisses to his hard tummy. 

“Thank you Sammy.”

[secretobsessionstuff]

Hi, I don't know if you're still taking prompts, but after reading your adorable carsickness fic for Madix I had an idea. Maybe the 4 of them (dakota, blair, riley, madix) are all stuck in a house together because of a storm (or quarantine lol) or something and madix is coming down with the stomach flu but he's trying to hard not to throw up for Riley's sake but eventually he does and dakota goes after him so riley doesn't have to but then riley sucks it up and does anyway

Oh my gosh thank you for this lovely request! I hope you like it! 

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Time: 19:00

It’s been 5 hours, 34 minutes, and 6 seconds since Madix and Riley had planned to leave Dakota and Blair’s place. It’s also been 5 hours, 35 minutes, and 6 seconds since the weather network issued a formal warning urging everybody to stay off the roads.

Madix looked out the window at the so-called dangerous driving conditions and was blinded by the moonlight bouncing off the snow. He squinted and let out a sigh. It looked like they wouldn’t be going home anytime soon.

“It’s your turn, Madix,” Riley called from the kitchen table.

Madix let the curtain drop, obscuring his view of the sweet outside world. His car was right there! They were 12 kilometers from their home! But a pile of snow was in the way. Though it had only been five hours, Madix felt like they had been prisoners in Dakota’s home for three weeks already. Of course, Dakota’s place was fine. It was warm and had all the food they could possibly need, but Madix wanted to go home.

He swallowed down a wave of nausea and rejoined his friends at the table. It’s been 5 hours, 21 minutes, and 22 seconds since Madix’s stomach-ache turned into more than a stomach-ache. When he realized that he probably wouldn’t be going home that night, his uneasy feeling grew into something worse. All day, he felt kind of achy and weird. It was only when the prospect of not sleeping in his own bed had sunk in that Madix started to feel sick to his stomach. He shivered, not because of the cold – the house was actually too warm – no, he shivered because he felt his stomach churn beneath his palm.

Sitting back down at the table, Madix gathered up the pile of obscenely offensive cards and watched as the words swam before his eyes. Only one of his friends’ cards could win and it was a choice between an insulting joke about religion, an insulting joke bout race, or an insulting joke about religion and race. Obviously, the latter won, but honestly, Madix wasn’t even paying attention anymore. He put his cards down on the table and rubbed his forehead.

Riley grinned and collected his winning card. He was sitting beside Madix with his hand on his boyfriend’s thigh under the table. As Madix let out a long exhale, he gave him a curious glance.

“Everything okay?”

“Mhm,” Madix nodded without lifting his head. “Who’s next?”

For a while, the game distracted his friends from realizing that Madix was slowly getting worse. He was talking less, burping into his fist, and generally feeling like a pile of crap. Unfortunately, no game or conversation could distract him from the way his body felt like it was being poisoned.

Eventually, the game ended. Blair had won, which prompted Dakota to wonder how she got so good at such a bad game. There wasn’t much else to do after that, so Dakota poured everyone a glass of wine and they just talked. As expected, Madix’s drink sat untouched for the next hour. At least now, he could excuse himself from the table without worrying that his turn would be coming up.

Time: 20:28

Madix had been in the bathroom for far too long; his friends were no doubt getting suspicious. But he needed the time to be alone. He leaned against the sink and allowed the pain to show on his face. He looked grey and exhausted. For the tenth time in the past five hours, he wished he were at home. Actually, if his wish could have come true, he would wish for his belly to stop hurting. He didn’t want to throw up, but as the night went on and the snow kept falling, that was looking more and more like a fantasy.

As Madix left the bathroom and turned the corner, he almost ran into Dakota.

“There you are,” Dakota said. His face was hard to see because the hallway was dark, but he looked concerned. “Are you okay?”

Madix didn’t know what his face looked like in the dim lighting, but he bet it wasn’t great. “I’m fine,” came his automatic reply, then he remembered he was talking to Dakota. “…sorta.”

“Sorta?”

Madix crumpled. He let his shoulder fall against the wall, too tired to hold himself. “I don’t feel well,” he breathed out.

Dakota put his hand on Madix’s shoulder. “Why didn’t you say anything? I have Advil or Tylenol or –”

“It’s my stomach.”

“Oh.”

“But I don’t want Riley to know.”

Dakota frowned and got closer to his friend so he could hear better. Madix did look quite pale and shaky.

Madix carried on. “It’ll freak him out if I’m sick while we’re all stuck here.”

“Do you think you caught a bug?”

Madix groaned and hugged his stomach. “I don’t know, but please don’t tell him.” He started walking back to the bathroom, hoping Dakota would follow. “I’ll just take some nausea meds and ride it out.”

“If you’re sure…” Dakota said hesitantly as he pushed pills out of a blister pack. He handed them to Madix who took them gratefully. In the proper light, Dakota could see that his friend looked horrible. His cheeks flushed, and his collar was rimmed with sweat. “I’m sorry you can’t go home. Let me know how else I can help.”

“Just don’t tell Riley.”

The boys returned to the living room where the four of them were now sitting. Throughout the conversation, Dakota kept looking at his friend. Madix was next to Riley, but looked very uncomfortable. His fists were clenched around the fabric of his shirt. Each time he blinked, he kept his eyes shut for ten seconds.

It was nice that Riley seemed relaxed, Madix thought. Part of him wanted to curl up next to his boyfriend, and another part wanted to stay as far away as possible for multiple reasons. For starters, his stomach was making all these sick noises every few minutes. The pills weren’t helping much and now all he could feel was water sloshing around inside him. Also, thanks to the heat in his cheeks and heaviness in his head, Madix was almost certain he had a fever. He certainly didn’t want anyone else to catch whatever he had, but he felt like a bomb. It was only a matter of when.

During one of those ten second blinks, Madix suddenly needed to snap his eyes open as he heard his name being said. “What?” he looked around as if in a daze.

Riley had taken Madix’s hand to get his attention. “You sleepy, babe? You haven’t said anything in a while.”

“Just tired.” He smiled sleepily, hoping that he seemed fine.

“You look a bit pale,” Blair said. She was lying against Dakota but leaned forward to get a better look at Madix. “Doesn’t he?”

Riley cocked his head to the side and looked at Madix. “Yeah, kinda. Are you feeling okay?”

Madix didn’t like having everyone look at him at once. He knew he looked bad, and he knew his friends were just worried. He glanced at Dakota who was rather hard to read in that moment. He was actually hoping for Dakota to save him but that didn’t happen.

What did happen though is that Madix’s stomach chose that moment to gurgle. Oh God, this can’t be happening, he thought. The room was suddenly boiling hot. His skin felt all tingly and slick with sweat.

“Babe, talk to us.” Riley’s voice was like a faraway sound at this point to Madix. His head was spinning, and his vision was blurry. He knew he was in trouble when saliva flooded his mouth. If he was planning on saying anything, that plan was never going to come to fruition. Madix’s stomach lurched, causing him to gag. He shot forward, clamped a hand over his mouth and sprang up from the couch.

The three of them were left staring at Madix’s back as the poor boy ran down the hall. Riley looked confused and spooked at the same time. He was awkwardly sitting on the side of the couch, as if he wanted to get up.

Dakota actually did get up. “It’s okay, I got him.” He went after him.

In the bathroom, Dakota found his friend on his knees, heaving into the toilet. He knelt down next to Madix just as a torrent of sick gushed from his mouth.

“Alright,” Dakota said as he put a hand between Madix’s shoulder blades. “That’s it, man, you’re okay.”

There wasn’t time in between retches for Madix to acknowledge his friend’s presence; he was too busy purging his body of everything he ate that day. However, Madix liked the feeling of Dakota’s heavy hand on his back. He focused on that feeling rather than his belly that was in turmoil.

The room was swaying, and his head was fuzzy. He burped a few times before beginning the next round of vomiting. He made a strange strangled sound in his throat as his stomach sent up another mouthful of puke. A sob escaped in between gags.

“Oh Madix,” Dakota cooed. He was still rubbing his back. “I’ve got you, everything’s fine.”

With his head still hovering over the toilet bowl, Madix caught his breath and spat a glob of saliva. “I feel awful, Kota.” His voice came out sounding thick and strained.

“I’m sorry.” Dakota felt stupid saying that, as if an apology would make it all better. “It’s just a bug though, you’ll get through this.”

Madix groaned and rested his head on his arms that were crossed over the toilet. “How’s Riley?”

“I’m fine.”

Both boys looked towards the door where the new voice came from. Riley was leaning against the doorframe, looking like he was using the wall as a shield. He took a step into the bathroom. “Who cares about me, though. How are you doing, babe?”

“Not great, Ry,” Madix said before burping into his hand. It was the first honest thing he said to Riley for a while now. Seeing his boyfriend’s face, Madix suddenly felt smaller and cold. He reached his hand out towards Riley, craving a bit of contact. To his surprise, Riley joined Madix on the floor, replacing Dakota.

Riley grabbed Madix’s hand and pulled it to his chest. “I’m gonna look after you.”

That little bit of comfort made Madix melt. He instantly let out a small whimper of pain and allowed Riley to take him into a hug. With his face smothered into his boyfriend’s chest, he let the tension out of his back. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Riley said while petting Madix’s damp hair. “Now, let’s get you out of this shirt, you’re drenched in sweat.”

Madix pulled away from the hug. “I’m going to be sick again.”

Judging by Madix’s relatively calm state, Riley guessed he meant later in the night. Nonetheless, he would stay by him when it happened. “That’s fine. Let’s at least move you to a bed and get you in clean clothes.”

Again, it was as if a weight was lifted from Madix’s shoulders. “You’re the best.”

“I’m trying”

Madix resisted the urge to kiss Riley. He settled for a smile. “I know that.”