#mine is to write 10k words

[annlillyjose]

good luck to everyone doing camp nanowrimo this year! what are your goals?

[lycheeteeni]

⭐️🌕⭐️⭐️🌕⭐️ ⭐️🌕⭐️

Twilight Dreams💤

✨🌙

In the stillness of night, as respite is due,

I slip into a world where dreams imbue.

Escaping a realm where our love’s torn asunder,

Into a land where mysteries softly plunder.

Dreadful is the light that calls me from my dreams,

As dawn breaks, its harshness gleams.

But in the twilight hours, I hold tight,

To the fading whispers of a dream's flight

A universe of wonders, a sanctuary divine,

Where realities blur and fantasies entwine.

In those enchanted moments, possibilities unfurl,

A dance of shadows and light's gentle twirl.

I cling to this refuge, my haven of peace,

Where time suspends and sorrows cease.

For in the realm where dreams hold sway,

I'll linger until the break of day.

JI

04-26-24

[sometimesijustfeellikescreaming]

In your arms (I think I might survive)

Rated E - Word Count: 11.5k

Read on Ao3

SUMMARY:

5 times Bucky is compromised while sharing a bunk with one Gale Cleven 

+ 1 time Gale climbs into Bucky’s bunk because he might also be damned by his feelings for the man

“Gale is a fire, and Bucky would be glad to burn for five eternities if being here in Buck’s arms for even another moment is the reward for the dangerous inferno of this man's embrace.”

— 1 —

The first time it happens is the first heavy snowfall of the year. It’s the second week in November and several of the other men — especially the ones who have been there longer, whose clothes fall off of them from the weight they’ve lost in their months in the camp —have already started sharing bunks weeks ago when the first of the chill settled in. Tonight is unbearably cold. John can see the way Gale is curled in on himself, an echo of his own position. Their bunks are so close Bucky could reach out and touch the blond, but instead, he hesitates for nearly an hour. Gale is in a fitful sleep, barely holding onto a thread of unconsciousness from the cold. Bucky wants to climb in beside him, steal the other man’s warmth, give him his own warmth.

Create warmth between them.

And therein lies the danger. Therein lies Bucky’s hesitation.

Because as much as he wants this to be an innocent act of helping to warm himself and his friend in the cold of winter, even the thought of pulling Gale flush against his body makes his heart race and his blood boil.

Oh, the things he’s imagined doing to his friend.

The things he would do if he knew Buck would let him.

The things he’s not sure he could stop himself from doing if he climbed into that bunk and slotted himself against the firm lines of the object of his hidden affections.

So instead of going to Gale's bunk instantly on the coldest night to date, Bucky stays in his own and suffers, shivering until his teeth start to clatter. But after an hour of agonizing with himself between the frigid air and the consequences of being so close to Gale, Bucky can’t take it anymore. He’s lost feeling in his right hand and half of his toes. Gale can’t be faring any better than he is if the way Bucky can see the other man’s shoulders shake from time to time is any indication. This is more than just a desire.

This is a need.

Bucky climbs out of his bunk and takes the single step to bridge the gap between his and Gale’s bunks. Bucky brings his blanket with him, but the cold jumps up to meet him, colder than any Wisconsin night he can remember. The distance is the shortest he has ever crossed in the night — it takes less than a breath, but his heart is racing — so many beats pass before Bucky launches his thread-bare blanket over Buck and places a hand down on the sorry excuse the Germans call a mattress. Then, as easily as falling into his own bed at night, as if this wasn’t something John has been agonizing about for the past hour, wanted to do for days, weeks — maybe since he met the other man — Bucky is wedging his body into the bunk beside Gale.

Buck is facing the wall, away from the room, and curled in on himself to preserve as much heat as possible.  It’s the most effortless thing John has done in his life to wrap his arms around the man and press his chest along the length of his back. He molds their bodies to each other from chest to knee, needing the warmth as much as relishing in the touch.

“Damn, Buck, you’re freezing,” Bucky whispers, gruff and low, into Buck’s ear, his tone having absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he’s suddenly flooded with warmth at his abrupt closeness to Gale. He’s also lying, really, that Gale is freezing. As far as Bucky can tell the man he’s wrapped himself around is a human heater.

Buck instantly leans back into his touch, letting out a relieved breath, as if the cold he’s been holding in for the past several hours is released on that single exhale. Bucky feels ankles hitting his shins and he recognizes that Buck is uncurling from his fetal position as he relaxes into Bucky behind him.

Bucky lets out a breath in response and relaxes further into Gale in turn, the stress of the last hour’s debating easing from his shoulders in a moment. Bucky is drawn in instantly to the open skin of Buck’s neck. He can’t help himself in his cold-addled state as he presses his face into the exposed skin there. Despite the extreme cold, the skin is warmer than his own face and Bucky is instantly warmed.

Gale hisses audibly and tenses in Bucky’s grip. “Not as frozen as you are,” his voice comes low and husky in the dark, barely there in the stillness. Buck turns his head just enough to meet Bucky’s eyes in the darkness.

Bucky is distracted by the way his lips, still pressed into the soft skin of Gale’s neck, drag just slightly with the motion. He pulls back just far enough to meet Gale’s gaze even though every thought currently running through his mind is some variation of how he wants to press his lips to the exposed flesh of Buck's neck.

Soft kisses. Gentle kisses. Wet kisses. Biting kisses. Harsh kisses. Lingering kisses. Kisses that would leave marks for days. Little nips to tease as he makes a journey across to new skin to explore further. Kisses that would have Buck writhing and making all sorts of noises that Bucky would have to move to silence so nobody would know what they're doing in the night while they're cuddled together for warmth.

Gale’s eyes are searching when they meet his and Bucky wonders what he sees in Bucky’s eyes. Are his eyes glossed over in obvious desire the way he feels? Or does he have more control than he feels? Does the cold have more of an effect than he thinks to the point where all that shows through of the way being here, Buck finally in his arms, the press of his body sending golden rushes of electricity through his whole system is dulled to nothing more than his normal gaze? Or maybe It’s all there for Gale to see. But does he see it? Does he know? Is he oblivious? Does he know what it means when he sees that look in Bucky’s eyes aimed toward him?

Whatever Gale is searching for with his scrutinizing look that’s so magnetic it makes Bucky hold his breath, he seems to find it because the line in his forehead smooths at last. Something in his gaze lightens and he gets that glint in his eye he does sometimes when he talks to Bucky. It’s the one that drives Bucky wild, the one that encourages bad behavior and dares him to act recklessly, especially when he knows he shouldn’t but really wants to.

“What took you so long?” Gale grumbles, his smirk tugging wider at the edges. “Halfway to ice,” Gale murmurs as he turns his head back the other way again and — that’s an eye roll if Bucky has ever seen one from Buck Cleven. Bucky knows he must be grinning in response and shakes his head just so.  He almost stops when it brings his lips into contact with Gale’s neck again because that’s exactly where he wants his lips to stay. He has to force himself away after a moment too long, settling his forehead and nose against Buck’s head instead, his lips a safe — but agonizing — distance from the man’s skin.

Before Bucky can properly process what is happening, the hand that is wrapped around Buck’s torso is suddenly divested of its glove, but instead of being met by the numbing sting of the open air of the cabin, feeling starts to reenter his fingers in a startling buzz of unexpected warmth and Bucky has to suppress a wonton groan of arousal because—

Gale has not only taken the glove off of Bucky’s hand, but he has taken said hand and guided it under all the layers of his own clothing to rest it against the white-hot skin of his lower stomach, and Bucky— Bucky cannot think anymore.

Bucky doesn’t trust his voice, and even if he did, Gale’s question seems like a distant dream. He makes a non-committal noise somewhere in the back of his throat, unable to do much more than that. “You seem to be doing okay.”

Gale is a fire, and Bucky would be glad to burn for five eternities if being here in Buck’s arms for even another moment is the reward for the dangerous inferno of this man's embrace.

“Better now,” and really Buck shouldn’t say things like that because Bucky is pressed right against the man and those words are doing things to him that he cannot explain if Gale notices. It takes every ounce of self-control not to allow himself to fall into the pleasure of being close to Gale, but he is not making it easy. He is, however, encouraged by those two words, so he presses in a little closer, slotting a knee between each of Gale’s so they’re wedged even tighter together in the small bunk. Gale makes the quietest sound of appreciation at the movement, even shifting with him to support the action, relaxing into it and helping the spooning along.

And God.

Bucky has heard a hundred women pant and moan and scream in bed before, but the sound Gale just made is the single most sensual sound he has ever heard in his life. He feels it in his gut, deep and aching and he’s not sure how he’s going to survive this night touching Gale but only touching.

“Give me your other hand,” he almost doesn’t hear the words because of how scattered his mind is. When he finally processes them, Bucky maneuvers so he can give Gale his other hand. It’s a little awkward with the way they’re arranged, but Gale makes it simple and somehow Bucky ends up cradling Gale against his chest with both arms around him, two bare hands against Gale’s naked stomach under his clothes, Bucky's hands warming against the blond’s smooth, toned skin as if everything they’re doing is perfectly normal.

And the thing is, Bucky feels normal. His nose is pressed into the soft hairs at the base of Gale’s neck and the warm skin there, lips a breath away from tender skin and he’s never felt more content in his life. The cold around him feels like a distant memory despite the fact he can still feel it along various parts of his body. Being with Gale, lying in the darkness, their breathing synched in a way he didn't even know was possible for two people — it feels like he's found something he's been looking for all along. Like he's found himself even as they're lost in the middle of Germany, in the middle of this war. For the first time in his life, it's like Bucky doesn't have to pretend about anything and it's all because of Gale Cleven.

Gale is in his arms, relaxed in the early stages of falling asleep, and Bucky is struck by a feeling, one that makes his chest tight like he can't breathe at the very idea in how much it terrifies him — that Gale is burrowed deep into his very soul. Sure, John Egan may climb out of this bed the next morning and Gale Cleven may no longer be in his arms, but the man he's holding will never leave his soul, and that is something John has never been more sure of than in this moment. It scares him more than anything else that he feels nothing but blissful contentment acknowledging the fact.

Bucky knows without a doubt that tonight will be the best night of sleep he’s had since he came to Europe.

— 2 —

After that first night, it's not that things change between Gale and Bucky in the daylight, but they do end up sharing Gale's bunk in an unspoken agreement from then on. It's just too damn cold to sleep alone anymore.

The nights pass more or less the same as the first one, some combination of Bucky climbing in after Gale and wrapping himself shamelessly around the man, clinging desperately, drunk on the skin beneath him like he hasn't been on liquor in too long now, but to a similar effect, nonetheless. If anyone told Bucky that he could honest to God get drunk on being close to a person, he would have laughed at them—

Yet here he is.

And the evidence is damning, he's drunk as many nights on Gale Cleven now as he used to be back on Base with a good whiskey in hand.

Bucky thought that maybe after a few days of sharing a bunk with Gale, he would get used to the weight of the man in his arms and that his desires would be easier to control over time since he would be used to having Gale there. Bucky was so, so very wrong. The more nights Bucky spends with Gale in his embrace the worse things get. Bucky has never been a patient man, and his impulse control is shoddy at the best of times when it comes to the simple pleasures of life.

That being said, Gale himself is certainly not helping the matter of Bucky’s tentative control. Every night, Gale seems to relax further into Bucky’s arms. Like when he pressed his own face into the warm flesh of Bucky’s neck the fourth night like Bucky had done the first night, allowing them to press together, chest to chest so that Bucky was lying nearly on top of the other man, every part of them touching in a way they never had before.

Bucky nearly lost himself that night; he nearly gave into every hidden desire that whispers in the back of his mind constantly when he’s around Gale but somehow he kept his hands from wandering too much, only slipping them under Gales shirt like the first night and warming them against his back and — admittedly — pressing the blond tighter against him.

In short, Bucky is losing his goddamn mind in the best possible way and it’s all Gale Cleven’s fault.

And it’s hardly been a week.

At this rate, winter looms long ahead of Bucky.

Bucky is already lying in his bunk tonight. Their whole cabin is tense with thoughts of the war. Gale spent hours with the radio receiver pressed to his ear, rattling back every piece of news as it came across the channels. Bucky is wound tight with it all, itching under his skin at his inability to do anything about their circumstances in the war camp. He knows that it bothers Gale just as much, but true to the nature of the quieter man, he keeps it all to himself, carrying everything alone.

As the hour draws later more of the men climb into their bunk. Lights out is called and with a heavy sigh of resignation, Bucky takes slow steps toward Gale’s bunk. He wonders if Gale will welcome him again tonight — If he still wants him here with how tense he must be after the day everyone has had and emotions running high. Would Gale want space tonight? Bucky casts his eyes back toward his own bunk which still lay empty mere feet away, ready to take him back should he need it. Then he thinks of the past week, especially the past few nights and the way the blond had unabashedly returned Bucky’s embrace the moment he’d crawled into the bunk. If Gale doesn’t want him there tonight, he’ll tell him.

With newfound resolve, Bucky pulls himself into the bunk. He’s gentle about the way he approaches Gale in the too-small bed. The other man is pressed nearly nose to the wall, facing away from the room and Bucky. It makes Bucky wonder if he’s even asleep, but he thinks he must be awake, deep in thought, by the way his shoulders are so tense and his breathing is too shallow to be restful. Bucky turns on his hip so he’s facing Gale, scant inches between them on the narrow mattress.

He reaches out a hand, resting it on the broad shoulder of the other man. It’s a test more than anything else. Is this okay? Are you okay? He wants to ask, but somehow, the question seems taboo, too close to saying something that shouldn’t be said. It feels revealing, even in the darkness of the quarters and the small space of the bunk they’ve been sharing night after night.

Bucky’s hand acts without his conscious mind, responding to the tense form of Gale’s shoulders, acting on instinct and from practice with nervous and anxious women in the past. It’s not on purpose, but it is Bucky’s desire to comfort Gale after the day they’ve all had, so he really shouldn’t be surprised by the way he trails his hand down from the shoulder down Gale’s arm, grip sure and present, testing for tension, searching for where he might be able to relieve physical stress with practiced hands.

Gale lets out a long, tired sigh, his shoulders drooping just so, head relaxing into the bed more. It makes something unclench in Bucky in response. This is fine. He and Gale are fine.

Emboldened by the unspoken permission to touch, Bucky releases his grip on the other man’s arm and moves it over to his back again. There’s not really enough space on the tiny bunk to do this, not at this angle. Bucky’s elbow is squished against his chest as he runs a firm hand down the tense line of Gale’s back, looking for points of tension. There are several. He stops at one near his left shoulder blade and digs his gloved hand through all the layers of clothing in the hopes of relieving the tension there. He’s not sure it’s making any difference, except then Gale lets out a breathy sound of satisfaction.

“Feels good,” he says after another moment of Bucky’s attention. “It’s been a pretty shit day.”

Bucky makes a noise of agreement and moves his hand to another point of tension along Gale’s back. After another moment, his hand stills as he contemplates their position. An idea comes to his mind, unbidden and like lightning of Gale beneath him on his stomach, Bucky sitting on top of him so he has full access to the other man to rub him down and bring out more of those breathy sounds. In his mind’s eye, there are no clothes and they are far away from here in a warm place, the war long forgotten and over, and Bucky is free to do much more than the kind of touching he is doing now. His pulse picks up in his chest and his breathing catches suddenly in his throat.

Gale shifts so he can look back at Bucky, his gaze questioning and filled with concern in the barely-there light of the quarters. Bucky has to say something, but he can barely form a coherent thought, lust flooding his system. This is a bad idea. Yet, he wants to help Buck… a change in position is technically the best option. It doesn’t have to mean anything. And Bucky can control his desires. He can control his thoughts. This doesn’t have to be dangerous.

Bucky licks his too-dry lips before speaking, looking Gale in the eyes. “Let me help you, we’re too close like this.” Bucky presses both his hands against Gale to emphasize his point, scant inches separating them.

Gale only gives him a dubious look as if to say what the hell are we supposed to do? There’s nowhere to go, dumbass.

Bucky gives him a shit-eating grin in response, pleased that Gale is going along with another one of his impulsive ideas. He starts to move as if to get off the bunk entirely, propping himself up on one knee, then leans back down so his face is near Gale’s in the quiet of the room. “Lay on your stomach and I’ll go over you, be able to reach better that way.” Bucky can feel his pulse thudding in his ears. He’s terrified this is the end. Gale will say no, or simply shove him off the bunk, as precariously propped in the frame as he is now. He’ll be disgusted by the thought of Bucky above him in such a way — repulsed — and never want to speak to him again.

Nothing like that happens.

Gale simply shuffles over, positioning himself face-down, his face pillowed on his arms. He takes up the middle space of the bed, which isn't saying much since his broad shoulders barely fit across the width of the bunk on his own, let alone with two people trying to fit into the space. Bucky closes his eyes briefly and lets out a shaky breath of relief and anticipation.

Once Gale has settled, Bucky arranges himself above him, bringing his hovering knee down on the mattress to straddle Buck’s thighs. The cold is jarring like this, must be for Gale too since they’ve moved the blankets aside for the whole thing. The chill helps clear Bucky’s mind of his racing thoughts.

In the quiet that fills his mind, all he can hear is his own breath and the thundering of his heartbeat in his ears. He leans down over Buck and places both his hands on his back just inside the lines of his shoulder blades, pressing in with his thumbs all along either side of his spine - the palms and fingers of his hands ghosting along his back in tandem with the action.

Gale relaxes into the mattress with a deep exhale and Bucky smiles, can feel the way his eyes crinkle at Gale's obvious pleasure. Bucky fists his knuckles and presses them into Gales's back with points of pressure as he meanders up his back again, finding knots of tension near his shoulders.

“You’re so tight, Buck,” He murmurs into Gale’s ear, leaning down so his lips are close enough to feel the heat coming off the skin of Gale’s neck.

Gale lets out the quietest moan as Bucky lets back up, releasing the tension from one of the knots in Gale’s back. The man is putty below him and Bucky can feel a rush in his head at the sounds Gale is making.

“Gotta be quiet, Buck,” Bucky chastises him, once again close to his ear, now on the other side, applying pressure to another knot he’s found in Gale’s back. “Take a deep breath,” Bucky instructs quietly. Gale complies immediately, chest expanding under Bucky’s hands and his obedience is intoxicating in a way Bucky has never experienced before. It makes his blood boil and run south dangerously. Bucky takes a stabilizing breath, willing himself to stay calm and focused only on the task at hand. “Breathe out.” On Gale’s exhale, Bucky presses harder into the knot in his back and Gale lets out another barely audible moan and Bucky has to close his eyes to keep himself sane against the sound. He’s touched himself to memories of women and the sounds they make in bed in the past, but the sounds Gale is making right now are downright sinful. Bucky lets up the pressure after a moment and like that the knot releases in Gale’s back.

“Just like that,” Bucky says, though he’s not sure that his voice doesn’t sound wrecked. He certainly feels like he may be drooling with arousal.

“Damn magic hands,” Gale says in a voice that would sound drunk if Bucky didn’t know any better. The words send an electric feeling through him straight to his gut and he has to hold back a moan and curb his desire to flip the man over and lean into him in earnest to show him just how magic his hands can be.

Instead, he leans in close again, a cocky smirk pulling at his lips and he demurs in Buck’s ear, “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been told that.”

Gale huffs out a laugh. “You son of a bitch.”

Bucky runs his hands up and down Gale’s back a few more times, searching for any more points of tension, but he’s too riled up to do much more, so he ends up mostly rubbing soothingly for a few minutes, Buck humming occasionally in satisfaction, much to Bucky’s tormented delight.

Finally, he pats the other man’s shoulder when Bucky’s sure he’s gotten ahold of his arousal enough to lay down beside Gale and sleep without causing a scene.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough of that. Scoot over— I’m cold.”

“Your own fault,” Gale gripes back but turns onto his side to make room for Bucky to press in beside him. Bucky loops an arm around the blond and curls around him like he’s grown far too comfortable doing the past week. They pull the blankets over the two of them and fall into a content silence. Gale lets out a deep breath then and leans back against Bucky and he has the thought that as far away as he is from everything he’s ever known, he’s never felt more at home than in this moment.

— 3 —

The nights continue to get colder in Germany and it seems like everyone is sharing bunks now. An odd man out in winter is a frozen man, after all. Night after night, Bucky continues to climb into Gale’s bunk. Sometimes he even climbs in before the blond does and it’s Buck who comes to greet Bucky in his own bed. However it starts, they always end up wrapped together for the sake of warmth, doing anything they can to conserve heat as the nights become more and more unbearable.

Tonight, snow is falling outside the windows and it’s taking more time than usual for Gale to get comfortable against Bucky. Most of the time they lay so that Gale has his back to Bucky, sometimes it’s the other way around, and on rare occasions, Gale likes to burrow into Bucky’s neck, the two of them facing each other. Tonight Bucky climbs in after Gale so that he is pressed against Gale’s back like they so often are, but Gale is restless, maybe too cold, maybe just on edge for whatever reason. Gale turns his head and catches Bucky’s eye. Bucky squeezes Gale reassuringly at his waist where he has an arm slung around him then releases the grip, pulling back and moving his body away in question.

“What is it?” Bucky asks quietly.

Gale starts to shift, turning his body to face Bucky. “Turn over.” Once Gale has shifted enough to face him, he places a hand on Bucky’s shoulder to indicate he should turn over too, and Bucky's smile crinkles his eyes.

“Yeah, sure.” As much as Bucky likes to be the big spoon, there’s something about being held by Gale that Bucky really doesn’t mind.

Even when they settle down, though, Gale’s breathing still doesn’t even out and deepen in the restful patterns of sleep. He continues to shift every few minutes as if there’s something on his mind. The arm wrapped around Bucky’s torso tenses and relaxes at seemingly random intervals.

Bucky has no idea what’s bothering Gale tonight, but it’s obvious the man is nowhere close to sleep. He huffs out a breath and shifts back around to try something else.

“Relax, Buck. You’re thinkin’ too much,”  Bucky huffs into the quiet as he finishes shifting to face Gale. He pulls him close, trying to arrange them so Buck can calm down enough to sleep.

Their fumbling for a comfortable position this way takes another moment and when Bucky shifts his head, Gale is right there — so much closer than Bucky meant, and his nose traces along his face accidentally, bumps against the bridge of the other man’s slender nose. Bucky’s eyes are nearly crossed looking into Gale’s, their breathing intermingled. Bucky has never wanted to lean in and kiss anyone more in his entire life.

But this— he doesn’t want to ruin everything with Gale. Neither of them are drunk. Anything he does now could ruin everything he’s ever had with Gale forever. He has to tread carefully, but he desperately can’t think for the way that he wants this and he wants it so badly.

The thought comes to him then.

His eyes are torn from Gale’s lips where they were caught and up to his eyes in an instant.

“Buck—“ Gale’s eyes are drawn to his immediately at the quiet urgency in Bucky’s voice— where they’d been focused before, Bucky is too distracted to consider. “I want to try something, but you just have to—“ Bucky licks his lips, nerves getting the better of him suddenly. He glances away and then back again, pushing through with renewed determination. “Just imagine I’m Marge, okay?”

Gale’s eyebrows draw together in the slightest show of confusion, but before he can say anything, Bucky leans the rest of the way forward and presses his lips to Gale’s, just a touch. He holds there for a few heartbeats waiting for the inevitable rejection, for Gale to push him away in horror and say he never wants to see him again. When he pulls back, Gale’s eyes flutter open and his lips part as he takes in a shuddering breath.

There’s a sinking feeling in Bucky’s gut and he goes to draw away, thinking that all is lost. There’s a hand at the back of his neck stopping his retreat when he tries, though.

“Little tame for Marge,” Buck’s eyes are bright with mirth and something distinctly else and before Bucky can properly process anything, Gale’s mouth is on his in a filthy kiss. It’s all lips and teeth, Gale sucking Bucky’s bottom lip into his mouth only to tug on it mercilessly with his teeth. The sensation has Bucky gasping against his mouth and Gale slips his tongue in as if that was his plan all along, tasting and teasing against Bucky’s and—

This is more than kissing, this is devouring. It’s needy and sensual. Gale is kissing him like a man who’s been waiting for this kiss his whole life and like tomorrow will be too late. Bucky has no idea what to do with it except kiss back in kind. He’s kissed women with this sort of fervor before, with this sort of manic energy, but it never felt this way. It never meant anything when he did it with them. He’s never kissed anyone who’s meant anything to him until now. It’s thrilling —terrifying —electrifying. All too soon he has to pull back to breathe.

He and Gale are both panting quietly when they pull apart and though he’s short of breath, Bucky can’t help that he can’t quite pull away as they separate, stealing a few more short kisses from Gale’s lips before he fully comes away to catch his breath. Gale leans his forehead against Bucky’s, his eyes closed as his breathing starts to even out.

There’s a tense moment where the silence starts to overwhelm Bucky and he thinks, even after all of that, Gale will reject him and call him crazy, but then he opens his eyes and smiles one of the most sincere smiles Bucky has ever seen, crinkles in the corners and all and tugs him closer into a more relaxed position like they would if they were cozying up to sleep, though their faces are still much too close for that.

Gale’s smile shifts into an intensely serious face as he gazes directly into Bucky’s eyes. “I think that was our best kiss, Marge,” he grumbles, deep, low, and sensual, kissing at Bucky’s jaw before dragging his lips up to Bucky’s again for a few short kisses. Bucky responds in a daze, unsure what exactly is happening. He said Marge, and, yes, Bucky told him to, but the way he stared into Bucky’s eyes tells him a different story. Bucky has learned to read Gale Cleven over the time they’ve known each other and if that man hadn’t said Marge’s name just now, he would have no doubts that every kiss against his lips in this moment is absolutely for him. Even so, the kisses feel like promises, they feel like they’re for him. The words Gale said feel like a message saying that their kisses are better than Gale’s kisses with Marge, and that’s a dangerous thought.

Bucky doesn’t know what to think, but really it’s hard to think with Gale’s lips against his anyway, so he lets it rest for the time being and just lets himself exist in this moment. He would rather have Gale like this in the illusion of love in the name of the woman he’s writing home to than not at all anyway. If this is all it can be, then Bucky can live with that. He may be haunted by the touch of Gale Cleven for the rest of his life, but when he finally does lay to rest in the day he dies, he’ll die knowing he’s tasted the lips of Gale Cleven and that’s all he can ask for at this point. He’ll die a happy man.

Tonight Bucky falls asleep wrapped in Gale’s arms with a smile on his face.

— 4 —

The weeks of December pass sluggishly. What should be a time of cheer and celebration is dulled by the fact that they’re prisoners in the war camp. The mere mention of the holidays becomes a taboo of sorts, effectually bringing a gloom to any room instead of its usual cheer. Many of the men also fall sick despite their best efforts to stay warm and healthy. The conditions of the camp are not good.

In the long days, Bucky notices Gale watching him more. It’s not that Gale never watched him before. They were always friends, and they always kept an eye out for each other. It wasn’t even necessarily that he had his eyes on Bucky more moments of the day. It’s just that when he catches Gale watching him now, sometimes there is a look in his eyes that he can’t quite read. Doesn’t always know what he means anymore. He used to think he knew all of Gales's looks, but now he’s not so sure he does.

At night, when Bucky climbs into the bunk with Gale, it’s all Bucky can do not to act like a starved man and desperately kiss Gale again the way they did before. Instead, he settles for allowing his hands to wander more, to blur the lines of what should be appropriate under the guise of getting comfortable. Some nights he presses his face against Gale’s neck for a moment too long, his lips resting against open skin in what might be considered a kiss if they were anyone else. He’ll mumble words there, his lips brushing the skin in the most addictive way. Gale will shudder under him but say nothing about it. They dance around it for a few nights.

Then Gale seems to cotton on to what Bucky is doing, that he is holding back. Seems to understand that he wants to kiss Gale but won’t.

They’re lying together, Bucky pressed against Gale’s back, Bucky mumbling something into Gale’s neck about a transmission they overheard that day when Gale cuts him off apropos of nothing.

“Like it when you do that,” Gale says, voice husky and affected, arching his neck in a way that makes it unmistakable what he’s referring to. “Damn tease, though.”

Bucky freezes, whatever words had been on his lips stopping immediately. He feels his heart stutter in his chest. This is new territory and feels dangerous. Gale is encouraging him, and it feels exciting, nonetheless.

“Maybe I like teasing you,” Bucky ventures against the skin of Gale’s neck just like before, finally daring to place a real kiss against the skin there before letting his lips drag the distance to Gale’s ear, letting them part just enough that his teeth skim the skin enough to make Gale shudder beneath him. When he reaches his destination, he nips at the delicate flesh of Gale’s earlobe, tugging it intentionally before releasing. “Don’t you get it? I like getting a reaction out of you.”

Gale’s already turning in the bunk to face him, words ready on his lips.

“Don’t count on it.” There’s a flicker of fire in Gale’s eyes that invites Bucky in, that says do your worst, Bucky Egan— do whatever you want.

Bucky takes that as a challenge and that’s when things start to shift between them in earnest.

Bucky reaches out to run his fingers through the man’s hair, stopping to tug at the strands. He trails sucking, wet kisses from Gale’s ear down to his jaw and then finally brings their lips together again for the first time in days, with no hesitation this time. The kiss is passionate and both of them are absorbed in an obvious battle of wills as they move against one another. This is both nothing like the kiss they shared the other night and glaringly similar. It holds all the same tenants of passion and adoration that Bucky had noticed before — but this kiss, it’s filled with future and longing. It’s the kiss of two people beginning something. Discovery, excitement, wonder.

Bucky doesn’t want it to end.

And, honestly? It doesn’t for a long while. Gale’s hands wander across Bucky’s body—his back, his hips, his hair, his face— exploring while they kiss for a long time. The actions mirror Bucky’s own interested touching. They eventually stop only when their kisses grow slow and it’s obvious the night has grown late enough for them to get sleepy. Gale’s eyes droop as he tries to hold Bucky’s gaze.

“Hi,” Bucky says, a dopy grin on his face.

Gale brushes his thumb across Bucky’s bottom lip in response and stares meaningfully into Bucky’s eyes. Gale’s rough fingertips make their way into Bucky’s hair, dragging their way along his scalp soothingly and pulling him close again to connect their lips in a slow, lazy kiss. It feels like time stops and the moment goes on for years and an eternity yet only a second at the same time.

When Buck pulls back, he moves to kiss Bucky’s cheek then down to his jaw and the hollow of his neck, and finally rests his head against Bucky’s chest like that’s that. Like it’s all that simple. Like they didn’t just make out for the past hour with no pretext. Just like last time, he doesn’t know if it means anything.

Bucky rubs soothing circles into Gale’s back until they both fall asleep and tries not to think about it.

The thing is, as the nights continue in the slow of December, it keeps happening. Bucky will be doing or saying something, Gale will make a comment and suddenly they’ll be kissing and touching. Bucky’s not sure how his daytime life is such a nightmare in the war camp when every night he lays down beside the man of his dreams. He tries not to think about the fact that Gale has Marge waiting for him after the war, especially when mail comes and there are letters for Buck and not for himself.

The reality is Bucky is here now and at night Gale is in his arms. It’s Bucky’s lips against Gale’s not Marge’s despite what game Bucky might have started this all with. He thinks on that sometimes — thinks about how Gale probably just imagines he’s Marge every time they kiss. He hopes it’s not true, but he wouldn’t blame Gale if it was.

It’s hard to believe Gale is thinking of anyone but Bucky when he kisses him the way he does, though. It’s Christmas Eve when Bucky really starts to wonder if Gale thinks about Marge when they kiss. It’s Christmas Eve when Bucky notices Gale may be interested in their kissing a little more than Bucky realized.

He’s not sure why it took so long. If they both have the self-control of Saints or Bucky just hasn’t been paying enough attention, but Gale pulls back from their heated kiss, eyes closed as he leans his forehead against Bucky’s. He shifts his hips in what could be discomfort when Bucky feels something brush against him and —

Oh.

Feeling Gale’s erection against him sends a flash of heat through Bucky and suddenly, he’s not thinking clearly. He takes a centering breath through the haze.

“You good?”

“Just tired.” Gale’s voice is strained

It’s a lie, Bucky knows what’s going on here, but he lets it go. If Gale doesn’t want to keep going he’ll respect that.

“Okay. You wanna go to sleep now?” He asks it sincerely, but Bucky can’t help that he has a hand on Gale’s hip and it acts on its own, squeezing comfortingly, encouragingly, daringly. Gale’s eyes open, meeting his instantly. They’re hooded with lust and Bucky has to swallow and force himself not to look away. He licks his lips unconsciously. If Gale wants to stop, he’s looking at Bucky the wrong way. He would spend a thousand lifetimes at this camp if it meant being on the receiving end of that look from Gale Cleven every night.

He’s thinking about all the things he’s willing to do to Gale. All the things he would offer— would beg to do if only Gale would let him. He wonders if Gale would let him. The air between them is charged, and Gale seems to be trying to find the words to say. Maybe he does want this. Maybe he’s grappling with finding the way to ask considering the fact that Bucky isn’t Marge. Bucky should give him an out, help him. But a part of him bristles at the thought. Why should he have to make excuses for Gale and his hangups with a woman back home?

Bucky huffs and turns his face away, his eyes going hard suddenly. “You know what, you’re right. I’m getting tired too. We should just sleep.” Gale doesn’t say anything as Bucky shifts in the tiny bunk to turn his back to his body, just wraps his arm around Bucky’s waist, presses his face into the crook of Bucky’s neck, and breathes him in deeply. It feels like an apology when Gale’s fingers soothe circles into his stomach through the layers of fabric there. The last of the tension leaves Bucky with a deep exhale, his sudden spike of jealousy for Marge slipping away when Gale places soft kisses at the base of his neck before resting his forehead there. His breathing relaxes in that familiar pattern of sleep Bucky has grown to rely on more the past month more than he’d like to admit.

In the morning, Christmas dawns as a mix of emotions for all the prisoners in the camp. They want it to be a day they can celebrate, but the whole experience is sullied and muddied by the fact that they are prisoners. Even the most religious among them is struggling with faith and is broken and beaten down by the war. Far from home and family, stuck in an impossible, hopeless situation with only those also stuck in an equally impossible situation by their side, it’s hard to have any sort of Christmas spirit in the war camp.

Some of the prisoners are ignoring the holiday altogether, better to pretend it’s just another day than be disappointed by all that they are missing and be torn apart by the aching loss of all that could be in that moment. For others, the loss is felt so deeply it results in a heavy moping around the barracks all day. In others, it’s an edge in their eyes— anger at the Nazis for taking everything from them, and aggression tightens the lines of their bodies.

Even those who don’t celebrate the holiday find themselves affected by the tensions running high.

Bucky’s never been particularly religious, but the itch in his skin is turned up to eleven by the time night falls. He hates the way this camp and this war have stolen everything from the lives of everyone around him. It’s the reason he joined before the States became involved in the war, to begin with. He couldn’t stand the fact that so many were suffering everywhere. Bucky is nothing if not a man of action for what is right. It’s one of the biggest reasons he hates being stuck in the prisoner of war camp too. He can’t do anything for anyone from in here. He’s useless.

Today reminds him of that more than anything and he wishes there was something he could do to change it all.

When he climbs into the bunk with Gale tonight, they’re both morose. For a long while they just lay there quietly facing one another, neither one saying anything, neither one moving to hold the other despite the cold. 

“You ever think about what it would’ve been like if we never went down? If we never came here?”

“I try not to dwell on it. Find the parts that aren’t so bad.”

Bucky scoffs at that. “You would look for the silver lining, wouldn’t you? Why are you so goddamn perfect all the goddamn time, Gale Cleven? You never think about it at all? We could’ve hit twenty-five missions by now! Doesn’t it ever make you think of all the possibilities? Instead, we’re here. Just— wasting away.” Bucky’s hands are clenched between them, his eyes downcast to hide the wetness shining in them. John Egan does not cry. If his voice is wavering, it has nothing to do with it, either.

“We’ll make it out, Bucky.” There’s so much conviction in Gale’s voice that Bucky has to look up, but he still can’t meet his eyes.

“Look at me.” He can’t. He tries, a breath shudders through him, but he can’t look Gale in the eyes, not when Gale’s so sure and right now Bucky’s so weak. He should be more sure too. “Look at me, John.”

His eyes snap up to Gale’s then and warm fingers tangle his own hands between them.

“We’ll make it out of here— and every day until then it’s you and me against everyone who stands in the way.” Bucky cracks a smile at that, a low chuckle leaving his lips, and if a tear tracks down his cheeks, well the only person that would ever know is Gale Cleven and he would never tell another soul.

It’s Gale’s birthday two days after Christmas and with the way things have been in the camp the last few days, and between the two of them especially, Bucky just wants to do something for the other man. Their somber conversation from Christmas night lays heavy between them throughout the next day. Even the slightly lighter mood of Gale’s birthday is tinged by the knowledge that it’s a day marked and marred by this place.

Buck hides it well just like he does every other day, but Bucky can see that he is affected today more than other days being stuck here. It’s in the way he throws himself more intently into listening to transmissions and talking about strategies and anything related to the war. He even spends some of his time that day in the camp library reading who knows what for several hours.

It all reads like avoidance to Bucky, not that he’s paying attention. He tries to be a steady presence for Buck, but he’s shit at being steady even for himself in life if he’s being honest, so he’s not sure it works out. He does drag Gale away from the library before he can hole up there all day, though, and bring him back to the barracks for some good-natured bonding in the evening. They may not have anything to get drunk on, but they all pass around birthday stories and their best tales from home, and for a few hours it feels a little less like a prisoner of war camp and just a little more like being back on base.

When they call lights out and Gale and Bucky crawl into their bunk, Bucky feels lighter than he has in a long time. He pulls Gale into his arms right away as they settle into the tiny bunk, Buck is facing him and that gives him plenty of access to his neck and jaw. Gale has a slow smile on his lips as Bucky noses along the sensitive flesh there.

“Somebody’s in a good mood today,” Gale rumbles quietly, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

“Hey, my best friend is catching up to my age, what’s not to celebrate.” Bucky quips back. Gale gives him an exasperated look.

“We both know that’s not how birthdays work.”

“It is until I have mine again,” Bucky argues. Gale seems to take that as enough of an answer and inclines his head just so, encouraging the exploration Bucky is making of the skin there.

Bucky’s been thinking of a present for Gale, but now that it’s the moment for it, he’s suddenly wary of what Gale’s reaction might be. His reactions to Bucky’s attentions so far are a good sign, though, so Bucky travels one of his hands across Gale’s chest in a casual exploration. It’s not something he’s let himself do much of in the past, maybe occasionally while they’re kissing heavily, but not while they’re doing something more casual like this.

“Hey, Buck?” Bucky’s voice is rough when he speaks, and he can’t bring himself to meet the other man’s eyes quite yet. He rests his hand on the material only a few inches above the waist of Gale’s pants.

“Yeah?” Gale doesn’t sound much better than Bucky, voice gravelly.

“I was thinking, there’s not much I can get you for your birthday this year,” Bucky licks his lips and finally meets Gale’s eyes, sure his own are blown wide with arousal. “But, uh, there’s something I was hoping you’d let me do for you.” Bucky watches Gale’s eyes for any sign he should stop as he slides his hand lower. He’s surprised to find Gale already half-hard in his pants when his hand comes to rest there.

“Let me help you feel good.”

Gale takes in a deep breath, his eyes dark with lust and Bucky knows he’s made the right choice this time. He always knew there was something animal in Buck if he could only draw it out of the other man. He feels a slow smile start to tug across his face. Gale doesn’t say anything, but keeps his gaze locked with Bucky’s as he brings his hand down over Bucky’s own in encouragement— and if that isn’t one of the hottest things Bucky has ever experienced.

“Don’t stop,” Gale says in that husky voice and Bucky kicks into gear, smile widening.

With the green light, Bucky moves to unbutton Gale’s pants. It makes his heart race. He’s only been with a man one other time before and it was a very drunken encounter. He wonders how it will be now, touching Gale.

He wants to watch the other man fall apart in pleasure— always so controlled and put together, it’s one of the things Bucky always finds himself fantasizing about Gale. He’s nearly high on the thought of being allowed to touch him in a way that will bring those dreams to reality.

Bucky watches Gale’s face closely as he peels his gloves off and finally takes the blond in hand.

Gale swallows heavily and his eyes flicker closed.

Watching Gale as he touches is its own experience. Fast then slow, harder, dragging out his pleasure and making it as good as he can. Kisses along his neck, words of encouragement and praise. Bucky does it all for Gale and watches in rapture as Gale falls apart in his arms.

It’s everything Bucky could have hoped for tonight and the lazy kisses afterward mean almost as much to him because it still feels normal, like even with this new layer things between them haven’t changed too much and Bucky is grateful for that.

— 5 —

They don’t talk about it after it happens. They continue to share the bunk as the nights continue to be cold enough to freeze a man to death alone. There’s a new energy in the air between them now, something in the way Gale’s eyes follow Bucky around even in the daylight. When Bucky crawls into the bunk at night, Gale’s hands find his body with more ease, seeking him out rather than waiting for Bucky to press in first.

There’s a simplicity to the way they lay together, to the way Gale is sometimes the one to hook his leg easily over Bucky’s hips and pull him in closer now. It’s like any of the reservations that he used to have crumbled and Bucky is left reeling at the implications. They don’t talk about it, it’s not something to risk even in the dead of night on the most silent of whispers — despite what they’ve done in the dead of night hidden only by the thin cloak of darkness, their bodies sometimes threatening to give them away by their heavy breathing in the stillness of the night.

And if those sorts of activities don’t stop either, if Gale’s newfound comfortability in initiating cuddling and spooning at night has led to Bucky being more comfortable grazing his lips against any skin of Gale’s he can find whenever he feels like it while they’re pressed tight against each other, then it’s not really a surprise, is it?

He catches more of those rare Cleven smiles when he presses casual kisses to the underside of the man’s jaw, nips at his earlobe, and if his lips wander to the other man's more nights than not, who’s to blame Bucky? Gale doesn’t complain. As the weeks wear on Bucky learns the contour of his lips and the taste of his tongue better than anyone else he’s ever known. Their shared breaths warm him more than the layers of jackets or the thread-bare blankets ever could on those late winter nights.

More often now, Gale’s lips have begun to wander across Bucky’s own skin. It’s a sinful feeling that has Bucky hard against Gale, and he’s sure Gale must notice. He’d have to have with the way Bucky’s pressed against Gale’s leg. Gale bites a sensitive section of skin on Bucky’s neck and it sends a spike of pleasure down to his growing erection. He lets out a hiss and can’t help but tilt his hips against Gale’s leg, seeking friction— anything.

Gale lets out an exhale of a laugh against Bucky’s skin, his eyes glancing up to meet Bucky’s, a glint of something wicked in them. It’s not a look Bucky is familiar with seeing in Gale’s eyes. There’s a sudden pressure right where Bucky needs it and —

Fuck—

Oh fuck—

That’s Gale’s hand. Over the layers and with a glove, but he’s moved it down between them to lay it over the line of Bucky’s straining cock. Bucky’s head is swimming in the sensation. There’s nothing coherent in his mind, his mouth has fallen open in pure shock, his pupils are blown wide with heady arousal. Yes, he’s touched Gale this way now, but he never really believed that Gale would ever want to touch him like that back — let alone that it would ever happen.

“Let me help you feel good,” his voice is vulnerable, sensual, and all the things Bucky never suspected, nearly a whisper in his ear, followed by a gentle tug on his earlobe with his teeth and —God— that feels good too. Bucky is absolutely speechless for the space of several heartbeats. He has to swallow past the lump of arousal in his throat before he can speak. He wants to scream yes, but something holds him back— is Buck only doing this because of what Bucky has done for him these past weeks? Does he feel pressured somehow? It was all one thing with the snuggling and kissing, even when Bucky helped get him off, Gale could imagine someone else, could think of Marge. It was just a kiss, just a body, a hand on him, after all. This, though — Bucky is not a woman. If Gale does this, he won’t be pretending he’s with someone else anymore. He can’t. He has to know that. Has to know what he is doing.

“Buck— you don’t have to, Marge—“

“Bucky—“ Gale tries to cut him off, his voice insistent, but Bucky isn’t having any of it.

“No, really Gale, you don’t have to if you don’t want to—“ lips meet his suddenly, cutting him off. Rough fingertips drag through his hair and down the side of his face, stopping at the corner of his lips. Gale pulls back and this time his eyes are filled with resolve and sincerity.

“John— you’re an idiot,” is all Gale says before his lips are on his again, slow and sure this time, reassuring and calming. The hand on his face is gone then, moving down his body, a trail of fire even through the layers of clothing necessary in the cold winter night. Gale presses his thigh against Bucky’s hardness, reminding him why he’s an idiot in the first place.

Then Gale’s hand is back to where it was before Bucky panicked and Bucky gasps when Gale squeezes him through the fabric with his ungloved hand. It’s been so long since he’s been touched by another person, and for that person to be Gale— it’s almost more than he can take.

Gale takes advantage of his gasp to deepen their kiss, licking into his mouth easily, a dance they’ve done so many times now. Gale uses the kissing to keep Bucky quiet as he runs his hand along the length of his cock through the too-many layers of fabric that separate their skin.

Gale’s hands make quick work of Bucky’s buttons and before he’s able to really fully process that this is really happening — that Gale Cleven is actually willingly—

Oh—

Gale’s hand is surprisingly warm for the night being as cold as it is. Buck lets out a low groan when touches Bucky at last, flesh on flesh. Bucky rocks his hips involuntarily, stifling his own sounds of pleasure as best he can. That sets them both into motion.

It’s frantic after that. Bucky forgets himself in the sensation of Gale’s warm fingers wrapped around him. It’s rushed and clumsy and dry but Gale’s more confident than Bucky expects in the way he pumps Bucky quick and sure, stroking his cock deliberately. Bucky wonders how many times he’s done this to himself. If he’s using that as a blueprint for the way he’s pulling the pleasure from Bucky’s body now. The image of Buck alone and touching himself sparks his arousal further and more heat floods his body. Bucky can feel how close he is now.

He’s not sure how much longer he’ll last, especially with how long it’s been since he’s been touched. Gale’s lips trail down his jaw as he drags his thumb over the tip of Bucky’s cock and it’s all Bucky can do not to come right then. He lets out a strangled breath, aware of the fact that they are very much not alone in the room.

For some reason, that thought sends a shiver of electricity up Bucky’s spine. He’s nearly incoherent with pleasure at this point, chasing his pleasure from Gale’s touch, but knowing they have to keep quiet and stay hidden is a heady thought that lights him up.

“C’mon, Gale. I’m almost there.”

Gale’s hand pauses.

Bucky’s head snaps to look at Gale desperately to see why he stopped. Did he do something wrong?

Gale has a wicked smirk on his face. “Don’t forget your manners, Major,” Gale whispers in the most rugged voice Bucky has ever heard from Gale’s lips in his life, and Bucky’s brain absolutely short circuits. He almost comes just from the way Gale calls him Major in that voice with his hand still on his cock, but somehow he keeps his composure.

Then, Gale squeezes him lightly in his grasp as if to remind him of his manners—

God this man is going to be the death of him. Bucky clears his throat past his arousal and manages a weak, “Please, Major.” And God now he’s begging, too.

Gale’s eyes darken in lust, and his hand immediately resumes its ministrations, more insistently than before. Gale’s lips find his in a harsh kiss as well, like any part of them that isn’t touching will waste away. And then it’s all too much and Bucky can’t hold back anymore—he comes in a blaze of heat, his moan caught in the kiss on Gale’s mouth.

Gale kisses down his neck as Bucky rides out his pleasure.

Bucky knows they should clean up their mess, but Gale just zips him back up, pulls him close, and holds him in his post-orgasmic haze. They drift off to sleep like that, wrapped in each other’s arms and content.

Happy. Safe. Home.

Three things that have nothing to do with where Bucky is and everything to do with who Bucky is with.

— +1 — 

It’s February but Bucky’s not really paying attention to the date until mail comes in. Gale and several of the other men get letters and somehow, miraculously, by some divine intervention of God (but more likely they just held back the mail until today for some kind and cruel reason) it’s Valentine’s Day and several men are getting letters from their sweethearts.

Bucky is jealous.

He tries not to be, he really does, but he is. He’s self-aware enough to admit to the fact at this point.

He blames the jealousy for the way that he tugs his blanket that has long been shared between himself and Gale off of the bunk he’s started to think of as theirs a few hours before lights out is called while Gale is stepped out and distracted. He climbs into his own bunk a few feet away. It’s sat cold and lonely for months now, and Bucky knows he’ll be cold and lonely laying in it tonight, but he’s mad. He doesn’t want to lay beside Gale tonight. Not when he still has Marge. Not when everything they’re doing means nothing to Gale.

Bucky fights against the empty feeling in his chest — the way his breathing feels too thin and his body feels far away from himself. He’s fine.

He lays on his back staring at the bunk above him, though he doesn’t see anything.

He’s distantly aware of movement in the room around him — of voices as time passes. It all washes over him.

Finally, the lights turn off and Bucky knows he should be feeling the cold right now— alone as he is— but he just feels numb. He’s purposefully not thinking about anything and he thinks that should help him fall asleep, but it doesn’t.

Instead, he’s more awake than he’s been in months.

Like a ghost, Gale appears at the foot of his bunk, hitting his booted feet to get his attention. It jolts Bucky’s awareness back into himself if only slightly.

“Benny says you’ve been moping all evening.”

“Yeah? Benny’s an asshole.” Gale gives him an unimpressed look.

“There a reason you’re over here trying to freeze to death?”

“It’s not so bad.”

“Everyone in here is sharing a bunk, John. It’s winter.”

“And what about after winter?”

There’s a beat of silence

“Is that what this is about?”

“You got another letter from Marge today.”

Gale climbs into the bunk. Bucky tries to back away, toward the far side, away so they’re not touching, but Gale doesn’t let him. He drags him back to the middle and pins him down, straddling his hips and pinning every inch of himself down with every part of himself. He grabs Bucky’s wrists and holds them down on either side of his head.

Gale brings his face close enough that Bucky has no choice but to stare into Gale’s piercing gaze.

“John Egan, you listen to me right now.” His words are biting and low— they demand to be heard. But he doesn’t say anything more. Instead, his eyes soften as he keeps staring into Bucky’s eyes. The fingers wrapped tight around Bucky’s wrists loosen so they can soothe circles into the skin there. After a moment Gale laces the fingers of one hand with his while the other hand reaches up to graze the skin of Bucky’s face.

Bucky can’t look away, can’t breathe. He’s mesmerized and terrified. He feels bare and naked before this man. He feels seen in a way he’s not sure he’s ever been seen before. This is a level of tenderness and adoration he’s never experienced before and he’s not sure he can handle it.

“Gale… “ He can hardly get the word out. He wants to kiss the man, but Gale is moving again, his lips traveling across Bucky’s face touching every inch of his skin.

“Shut up, John, I’m talking.”

Bucky actually laughs then. It bubbles up from the warm full feeling that has begun to fill his chest since Gale came to stand beside his bunk. Leave it to Gale to think that this is talking. No wonder their communication is so bad. Bucky reaches his free hand up to push Gale’s face away gently.

“Gale… you’re really not.” At Gale’s grumpy look, Bucky continues. “Use your words. I’m— I’m still confused. What about Marge?”

“What about her?”

“Gale—“ Bucky is flustered, he’s angry on Marge’s behalf,  “You’ve been writing to her this whole time— I— you’re in love with her! Every time you’re with me you’re thinking of her! I’m just a fill-in that you’ve taken pity on a few times. What do you mean, what about her? What about me?” Bucky props himself up on one elbow so that he doesn’t have to have this conversation lying down. He’s breathing hard despite the way the words are only a harsh whisper in the quiet of the bunk. 

Gale moves with Bucky, letting them sit up in the bed as much as they can with how close the bunk above them is., but he doesn’t move from straddling Bucky’s hips. He has a contemplative look on his face as if assessing everything Bucky just said. Bucky isn’t sure what to make of that. He expected Gale to instantly agree with everything he said and leave him be after that.

“You’re right about one thing. I am writing to Marge. I’ve known her forever. But you’re wrong about everything else… first of all, I never took pity on you. Second of all, you are not a fill-in. Lastly, I’m not in love with Marge the way you think, and I certainly never, ever think of her when I’m with you.” His eyes are clear and sure, holding Bucky’s gaze unwaveringly.

Bucky is at a loss, he almost can’t speak.

“Never?”

Gale runs a hand through Bucky’s hair, tender and full of so much more meaning after that confession.

“Never.”

Bucky’s mind is reeling. How can this be real? This means that every time— every touch— every kiss—

“What about the first time?”

Gale gives Bucky the softest smile, the kind that lives in his eyes and touches the edges of his lips. “I’ve wanted you since before we shipped off to England, Bucky. I figured if you needed something to justify making that first move I wasn’t going to argue with you. I was just happy to kiss you like I always wanted to.”

Bucky is speechless.

“If you wanted me all the way back then, then why were you with Marge that night? Why agree to write to her?”

“What would you say if I told you she knows how I feel about you?”

That makes Bucky stop altogether.

“What?”

“She doesn’t mind. Sometimes I tell her about you. She’s glad that you make me happy. She wants to get to know you better after the war, too. I care about her, but since I met you— John I never felt so strongly about someone before I met you.”

Bucky searches Gale’s eyes. There’s only one thing that look could possibly mean. He’s afraid of it, but more afraid of never hearing it said, so he licks his lips, voice vulnerable in the quiet of the night, putting everything on the line for the possibility of those three words.

“You love me?”

“Shit, I— yeah, I do,” Gale says, caressing Bucky’s cheek gently.  “I love you, John.”

“Fuck, I love you too, Gale.”

The kiss they share then is one Bucky will never forget. The first one where he knows with one hundred percent certainty that it’s him that Gale loves and adores and wants. Lips have never felt so right on his than Gale Cleven’s.

Bucky’s not entirely sure what the war will bring them next, but he’s known for a long time that it’d be him and Buck, and he doesn’t see that changing any time soon.

Gale Cleven is his forever.

[afniel]

Maaaaaaaaaaaan, come on.

(the post has ended up in the tags btw. I am not changing this and I need you to understand that it is just me talking to myself semi-publicly)

[hirazuki]

📓give me yer plots

Plots? Plural?? Okay, you get three ♡

I only included ideas that I am not currently/actively working on.

Maedhros + Mairon team up AU: After Luthien and Beren nab the silmaril and scram, Melkor actually does give chase and follows them south towards Doriath, and he cuts through Nan Dungortheb where he is ambushed by Ungoliant's spawn (I think if he was alone, given how physically weak he is at this point in time + just having woken up from Luthien's spell, he'd be easy prey) who take him and his crown with the remaining two silmarils and bear him to the south of the continent where Ungoliant has been waiting to exact revenge and claim/consume the jewels. Mairon comes home after having lost Tol-in-Gaurhoth to find Angband in panic, not being able to find Melkor anywhere. He decides to infiltrate Himring, it being the closest center of elven activity and information that is also open enough to travelers, etc. for a new face to pass unnoticed, to see if he can find out if the enemy has Melkor. Maedhros, having had him as a visitor for 30+ years while hanging off a cliff, recognizes him pretty quickly despite the disguise. They team up and go on a life-changing fieldtrip to the south of Beleriand to retrieve one dark lord (for Mairon) and two silmarils (for Maedhros).

Maeglin in Rivendell AU: Maeglin either is brought back by the Powers to help in the War of the Ring (yes, it's inspired by that one poll a while back XD) or actually somehow survived (I haven't decided which I prefer) and ends up in Rivendell. Not really a cohesive linear plot kind of fic, as much as a series of character interactions/exploration of themes: Maeglin and Elrond, Maeglin and Glorfindel, Maeglin and Eowyn, Maeglin and Frodo, to list a few of my top ones.

Eol makes a stone that outshines the silmarils AU: @melkors-defense-attorney and @mirkwood-hr-department take equal share of the blame credit for this completely wild idea yes it still lives rent free in my head, I have not forgotten about it XD. Basically, Eol is much closer to the dwarves than he is to his own kin, and would probably be more comfortable going to them for courtship advice re: Aredhel. Hence, presenting her with the shiniest rock as a gift early on in her stay at Nan Elmoth. Problem is, she has seen the silmarils, so it would have to be an extra shiny rock. He accidentally makes a stone that outdoes the silmarils; cascading world-wide consequences follow XD (These include: angry Feanorians; angry Melkor, at not having the Shiniest Thing™ and seeking Eol out in his forest a la Evil Queen style, to trade his two silmarils for this one; Eol (in this timeline, never having been to Angband) being so isolated he literally doesn't recognize Melkor and slamming the door in Melkor's face ("no solicitors!!"); angrier Melkor (that's two door-slamming elves now); angrier Feanorians (that Melkor would seek to trade the silmarils with Eol of all people); one very swoony Aredhel at the balls of this elf throwing the Dark Lord out on his ass.)

[gracefireheart]

Sometimes I look back at my middle school days and ask myself "why the fuck did I try-hard so much during story-making writing assignments by writing at least 10k words???????"

[greatestrival]

so funny story.

during the height of the pandemic a lot of kpop idols did livestreams that were "quiet streams" or "study with me" streams and so there's this website that would simulate the live stream

like this website (the link goes to the kpop section but i think there's other celebs too)

anyway obviously they didn't have a max one so i made one from compilations of his simracing that were on youtube bc it's basically just a quiet stream too. it's ten minutes long so it's a good pomodoro method bc when it looped twice i know it was time to take a break

the crazy thing is that it WORKED???? like i fully wrote my thesis with max's sim race in the background and the sound of the car was extremely soothing. anyway yeah that was just a little funny story i had.

[addictedtorockmusic]

I've hit the 10k words mark on the novel that I'm writing!!!

I think I'll celebrate by making a grilled cheese sandwich

[homoqueerjewhobbit]

I've never made it through nanowrimo without having a panic attack, even though I've, independently and accidentally, cranked out 50k words in thirty days, so I'm skipping again and just writing at my own happy little pace.

Best of luck to all who celebrate and remember, as with many things, if it's bad for your mental health, it's ok to quit! Don't feel like a failure if it's not a healthy pace for you to write at. I love you anyway. Uwu.

[thehedgehogsdilemmaa]

it's a beautiful beautiful beautiful feeling to go back to a story you wrote some time earlier and (besides some little editing) it still feels nice to read. like. like you don't completely hate it and want to crawl out of your skin to scream how bad it is

[cabbitz]

part of me wants to upload a teaser/a bit of the st fic im writing right now because so far I'm proud of it (lmao that might change as i continue)

but im like 7 pages in and this shit aint nowhere near done

i knew this was going to be a long first chapter but holy shit

[starlightkun]

🎶🛌

[tealfloyd]

ANONYMOUS REQUESTED:

"Okay, okay! Hear me out on this: An MC who gifts every boy and the staff (minus Crowley) a specially made gift (alongside chocolate ofc) for Valentine's Day. For example, Riddle gets a bouquet of roses alongside heart-shaped chocolate, Ace getting a chocolate cherry pie and a watch, and Cater gets a skateboard and spicy chocolate.

I can just imagine the chaos that will ensue.

"Hey! Your chocolate is bigger than mine!"

"No fair! I wanted that too!"

Thank you and have a great day!"

AN UNTYPICAL VALENTINE’S

“Congratulations, MC. You have now become the Santa of Valentine’s Day!”

SUMMARY: It's Valentine's Day in Twisted Wonderland, and you already know what that means: a mix of chocolates and petty discussions~! (Everyone x Fem!Reader)

WARNINGS: None... Other than MC’s empty wallet.

CONTENT: Ortho doesn’t have a section, but his reaction is described in the introduction. Me trying to understand these boys and their past, so they might seem a little ooc. Also Lilia’s part may have end up a little too philosophical. 

A/N: Okay okay. I know Valentine’s was five months ago, and that I was in an unexpected hiatus for more than six months, but I just really wanted to post this because this draft was eating me alive. Also, I don’t know why, but Pomefiore’s part was so difficult to write, and thus, I ended up giving up temporarily.

Annnd, I know that the request asked for the staff as well, but I didn’t want to make this longer than it already is, so I decided I will post it separately. Eventually.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy this! :)

WORDS: 10K+

Ah, Valentine’s Day. A lively festivity that encompasses love and friendship, usually celebrated by those who want to demonstrate affection to the people they care about the most, being in a platonic or a romantic way.

Yet, that’s talking outside of Night Raven College, an academy that’s full of eccentric students, and so, on behalf of that eccentricity, things are a little bit different.

And it all starts with your protective and small companion, Grim.

You finished checking your bag for the last time before leaving, assuring that all the chocolates and gifts you packed were inside, afraid of forgetting any of them in the dorm.

“Sevens, how am I going to carry this...?” You murmured while staring at the huge sack that contained all of your presents, thinking that it resembled the bag that a certain character would only use every Christmas.

All you did was sigh, mentally preparing yourself to carry that seemingly heavy Santa bag.

Or at least that’s what you were going to do, until a sleepy voice stopped you from doing so, effectively getting your attention.

“Where are you going, henchman...?” Grim groggily asked, yawning as he rubbed his eyes. “And why do you have that bag...?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at Grim’s drowsy expression as you approached him, scratching his head lightly. “You see, since today is Valentine’s, I wanted to make something special for our friends, so—” And before you could finish your sentence, an excited scream echoed from the old dorm, startling you both.

"Did someone say Valentine's?!" Conrad yelled, cheerfully floating around.

"This brings back so many great memories! I still remember all the chocolates I've received when I was alive. Such great days~" Brawley said, his mind consumed by memories from his past, all while wearing a nostalgic smile.

"Oh, what do we have here~?" Arthur asked, curiosity getting the best out of him as he picked some of the presents that were at the top. "Some gifts for your friends, perhaps~?" He teased, wiggling his eyebrows in a funny manner.

Letting out a soft chuckle while trying to calm Grim down—who was certainly not happy after the abrupt appearance—, you answered. “Indeed, it’s Valentine’s after all. Do they meet your expectations?” You jokingly asked, prompting a playful laughter from the trio of ghosts.

“I absolutely approve them, but I don’t know if those students will.”

“It's obvious they will! She even has personalized chocolates for all of them!”

“That’s true... I wonder how long it took you to prepare all of this.”

They commented, starting a light chat about the festivity, all laughing and having fun. However, in between the funny remarks and jokes, Grim had enough, whining in annoyance as his brain tried its best to understand what was happening.

“What are ya’ talking about?” He complained, turning to look at you with an angry expression. “Henchman! Explain this madness!”

“Well, Grim,” you started, trying to find the correct words to clarify the meaning of this holiday to him. “Valentine’s Day is—“ Although it seemed that you didn’t have to in the first place, seeing that you were once again interrupted by your strangely excited fellows.

“Oh!”, Brawley exclaimed. “Can we explain it?”

“Yeah, we’re the best people, er- Ghosts when it comes to Valentine’s,” Arthur enthusiastically stated.

“Can we make the explanation, MC?” Conrad asked, and since you didn’t want to ruin their happiness, you agreed.

“The floor is yours,” and with that cue, they stood in front of a confused Grim, who looked at you with slight fear and overall confusion.

It took you a few moments to realize that they took it quite literally as you listened to their old-styled song about the festivity, which maybe overused the word “love” in a romantic way... Yet, it was a detail that you didn’t pay much attention to, instead deciding to enjoy the show.

But someone that didn’t take this lightly was Grim, being that a certain sentence was starting to repeat in his mind over and over again: “A day when love stories start! Who would be the next one to take this important step~?”

He was so alarmed that he missed the part where they explained that it was also a day to share with friends, so the first thing that passed through his head was: “They’re tryin’ to steal my henchman! I cannot let that happen!” 

And so, a genius idea was born.

“I’ll go with you, henchman!” He suddenly exclaimed, taking you by surprise, frowning in response.

“Really?” You inquired, and so did the ghosts, adding themselves to the confusion train while raising an eyebrow.

“What? I’m just sayin’ I’m going with you!” Grim repeated, further confusing you four.

“Yes, I heard that, but why...?”

“Why not?” Your companion said, avoiding answering since he knew you were going to tease him about it, instead choosing to walk towards the front door.

“Why though…?” You questioned for the last time, eyeing him with suspicion as you made your way towards the door, picking the bag—that was, to your surprise, much lighter than you thought—in the process.

“We don’t have time for this! If we hurry, we can come back in time for dinner!”

Now that was the Grim you remembered, and even if you never thought that hearing that sentence would make you relieved your wallet isn’t pleased to hear this though, this time it certainly did.

“Okay, let’s go then,” you said, turning to your translucent companions—who still had their mouths wide open, very much resembling to a cartoon—to wave them goodbye.

“Goodbye, guys! We will see you later! The song was amazing, by the way!” Was the last thing you said before closing the door, snapping the ghosts out of their trance.

“Aw! She loved our song!” Was the first thing Conrad said, happy that you liked their performance, not noticing the strange looks he received from the other two.

“Is he just going to ignore the fact that Grim seemed suspiciously protective over MC?” Arthur asked, and Brawley shook his head, disagreeing with him.

“It’s not weird that Grim is protective over her, that’s like a world-known fact,” he paused for a second, as if trying to think of the results of your sincere actions. “I’m more intrigued by how those boys would react upon receiving such a lovely gift from their oblivious love interest.”

And that, my dear Brawley, is what are we going to witness today.

VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, FIRST STOP: HEARTSLABYUL

Heartslabyul was your first dorm of choice, and that was because you knew everyone will be in the same place at the same time. It was supposed to be easy; go in and go out.

Yet, what was the first thing you heard when entering the dorm’s living room? Screams. Certainly one of the most welcoming sounds while stepping into a place that embraces the idea of discipline.

Seeing that the other students (or at least most of them) were minding their own business, you thought it was not that big of a deal. After greeting the ones that weren’t busy, you both walked over to the kitchen, encountering a not so peculiar scene: Riddle arguing with Ace.

"Guys?" You asked, eyebrow raised as you wondered what happened.

"Oh, Prefect!" Cater exclaimed, cheerfully approaching you. "Thanks for appearing! This situation was #stressingmeout," he commented, thankful for your presence.

"Prefect," Riddle said after coughing slightly, attempting to compose himself. "What brings you here?"

“Well, since I assume you already know what day it is, I thought it would be nice to gift you some chocolates,” you voiced, chuckled at the expressions of your friends as you gave them their respective presents, who were pretty much baffled to hear that. “Or maybe you don’t know, and the heart motifs everywhere are misleading.”

The ones that caught up the fastest were Trey and Cater what a surprise, promptly putting two and two together and realising the reason behind your sudden but cute action.

"Sevens, is it Valentine's already?" Trey questioned, placing a hand on his hat to cover his face due to the embarrassment.

"Are these for us~?" Cater excitedly asked, already pulling out his phone to document this moment. "They are totes cute! Thanks, Prefect!" He said, taking dozens of pictures of the little red box.

“Valentine’s...?” Deuce muttered, face turning pale after his brain clicked and realised what that meant. “I’m sorry, MC! I don’t have a present for you!” He quickly apologised, bowing before you.

"You don't have to give me anything, you know?" You assured, trying to ease his concern. "I just wanted to gift you all something as thanks for all your help and support, and for being my friends, of course."

And that is how you make the Heartslabyul (and pretty much anyone in NRC) students blush in mere seconds; if these guys weren’t blushing before, now they undoubtedly are.

"Yeah, yeah, enough of these speeches!" Grim chimed, wanting to move onto the next dorm already. "We don't have all day! Let's go, henchman!"

"Geez, what has got into you today?" You said, turning to the students to wave them goodbye. "I have to go now; I hope you liked the— Agh! Grim, stop pushing me!"

In an instant, the two of you departed, leaving behind five startled students who were speechless by the sudden turn of events.

Riddle’s heart-shaped chocolates match his new bouquet of red roses.

Riddle never had a Valentine’s Day celebration before. Mainly because his mom, being the main factor in his life, used to call the holiday a “disruptive event,” and so, he ended up thinking that Valentine’s was an unnecessary and dumb festivity. You can now assume he doesn't think that anymore. As everyone already guessed, this boy was red; in fact, if you inspected his face closely enough, you would notice that his cheeks were tinted with the same shade the flowers gifted to him had, which he used to cover his face. And don’t get me started when he saw the chocolates; he nearly dropped the box out of embarrassment, not believing that you were bold enough to give him heart-shaped chocolates... But it’s not like he’s complaining so please gift this boy more heart-shaped sweets.

Trey’s hazelnut chocolates match his new set of heart measuring spoons.

Trey doesn’t know how he could’ve possibly forgotten about Valentine’s; his family owns a bakery, by the Sevens! He must’ve had the date imprinted on his mind by now! He's just wondering how he didn't think about it before while looking at the gifts, feeling a bit guilty that he didn't have anything for you. Although... That doesn't mean he wouldn't focus on your kind-hearted present, after all, who could after receiving such a detailed gift of your dear romantic interest friend? Immediately after this, he knows that he has to make something for you as well; something to remind you how special you are. Hence, why his mind is in a whirlwind of ideas, contemplating which chocolate would best match your taste, and what’s better, he can use that cute set of spoons you just gifted him.

Cater’s spicy pumpkin chocolates match his new skateboard.

Cater was very aware that today was Valentine's Day. Like, it's Cater we're talking about. He literally spent the entire week thinking of gift ideas for a friend crush in order to find the perfect one for you. He just wasn't expecting for you to pull an uno reverse card on him, or at least not before he gave you your gift. Less to say that he was over the moon with this action; he already had a new wallpaper and ten new posts featuring his new possessions. He was so excited that he forgot he had something for you, and by the time he remembered you were already gone. He figures out he can drop by Ramshackle later, but it didn't take long for him to realise that everyone would have the same idea. Oh well, what a perfect occasion to have a new skateboard~.

Ace’s chocolate-covered cherries match his new frog watch.

Ace has never been a big fan of Valentine's. After breaking up with his first girlfriend, he ended up disliking the romantic idea of the holiday. Though that didn't mean that he didn't like the presents and the chocolates, which he would sometimes receive. He used to feel confident when receiving those, yet he didn't give them too much importance, so he doesn't understand why he was blushing over some chocolate-covered cherries and a stupid frog watch. Like, are you mocking him, MC? Do you really think that he would use such a dumb thing? He definitely doesn't think that this is so cute coming from you, and he definitely is not going to use that watch everyday spoiler alert, he is definitely going to.

Deuce’s cinnamon flavored chocolate eggs match his chicken plushie.

Deuce isn't very versed when it comes to Valentine's. He did celebrate it with his mom, but that was literally it. The only times he received chocolates and other gifts were from anonymous letters, but he thought it was a joke, so he never tried to find the author (which ended up being a girl that had a huge crush on him). Hence why this boy is worried. He definitely appreciates you and your gifts, because it’s not every day that you get a Valentine’s gift from your crush! Like, what is he supposed to give you (even though you said it was fine) after you took the time and effort to elaborate such a wholesome gift? He ends up worrying so much about it that the chocolate has probably melted by now. But don’t worry, his plushie is still safe and sound!

You may be thinking that “they ended up living happy forever after,” right? No. That’s not how Heartslabyul works.

"Hey! Why is your chocolate bigger than mine?!"

"How is that my fault...? Hey! Stop trying to steal my chocolates!"

"There's no need to fight. I'm sure that the Prefect made sure to make everyone's chocolates equally."

"Yeah! You should worry about what to gift her instead~"

“I will take my leave then. You're free to come with me to try to find something that she would like.”

"Why did that sound so condescending...?"

VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, SECOND STOP: SAVANACLAW

Savanaclaw’s was the second dorm you entered, and even if you loved the dorm, you weren’t sure how your chocolates were going to handle its weather because, surprise surprise: heat and chocolates do not go well together. Unless they like melted chocolate.

The situation didn’t seem to go any better, as you didn’t know where could the Savanaclaw students be. Well, all of them except for Leona, who was comfortably sleeping on the living room’s couch.

“Maybe we should find the others first. I don’t want to wake—” You commented, being abruptly interrupted by Grim and his yells, sighing upon the situation. “—Him up.”

"Hey, sleeping beauty! Wake up!" Your companion shouted, about to jump on his stomach before you grabbed him, keeping Grim from doing anything he might regret.

“Why are you being so goddamn loud...?” Leona grumbled, groggily standing up with a scowl on his face due to the sudden awakening. Looking at Grim, fully aware that he was the nuisance that interrupted his sleep, he sent him a threatening stare.

Before Grim could reply (or try to, at the very least), you stopped him from doing so, further explaining why you were in the dorm to begin with.

"I'm sorry, Leona. I'm sure it wasn't Grim's intention to wake you up in such a rude way," you stated, briefly glaring at the pouting creature.

"That's not true! And don't think that you've scared the great Grim! I—" Deciding that it was enough, you started to scratch behind his ear, sending an apologetic smile to the dorm leader in front of you, who seemed to be a little annoyed jealous of this action.

"I brought Valentine's presents for all of you," you answered, momentarily shocking the lion for a few seconds before his lips erupted into a smirk.

"Valentine's, huh?" He remarked, stepping closer towards you. "Then I guess today's the perfect day to—"

And just like we saw before (and will continue to see), Leona was interrupted, because students at this college apparently don’t like when people are about to finish their sentences.

Ruggie and Jack weren't far away from where you three were. In fact, both of them were preparing their meals before they heard your voice coming from the living room.

And when they decided to check, what's the first thing they see upon exiting the kitchen? His dorm leader shamelessly flirting with you at a really close distance while you carried a sleepy Grim.

"What do we have here~?" Ruggie chimed, walking towards your side so he could be near you. "What can we do for you, Prefect~?" He asked, ignoring Leona's death stare.

"And why did you bring such a large bag?" Jack questioned, making the two beastmen suddenly notice the heavy bag you were carrying on your shoulders.

"Glad you asked, Jack," you replied, looking through your bag’s different contents until you finally reached the ones that were labelled after them. "Happy Valentine's Day!"

Immediately following your statement, you presented them with their respective gifts, easily recognizable by the distinct yellow hue of the packaging.

The beastmen’s cheeks were slowly turning into a bright red after receiving the present, treating the little package like the most precious thing on earth, which was true, at least in their eyes.

"Are these… For us…?" Ruggie hesitated, unsure of how he should react.

"Duh! Didn't you just hear her?!" Grim said, annoyance showing in his voice.

"You're just jealous you didn't get anything," Leona guessed, smirking upon seeing how irked he got by that teasing comment.

"I'm sorry, MC, but I don't have anything for you," Jack apologised, and before he could even think of bowing before you, you stopped him.

"You don't have to give me anything. As long as you like the present, I have nothing to worry about," you explained with a small smile, starting to walk towards the exit. "Unfortunately, I can't stay for much longer. So, I guess I will see you later!" 

And with that, you managed to leave just before your fluffy companion started to complain.

Leona’s smoked dark chocolates match his new lion pendant.

Leona isn’t that used to celebrating holidays, and Valentine’s wasn’t the exception. He would sometimes receive large amounts of gifts, ranging from expensive jewelry to different sets of clothing; things that he would just leave unused and forgotten. But your gift is a different story. You can be sure this man is going to use that necklace until he dies. He’s not going to entertain the possibility of it going missing in the depths of his bedroom, already frowning at the imaginary scenario of looking at your sad face while you ask where his gift was. He even clicks his tongue in annoyance, putting on the pendant to make sure it wasn’t going anywhere. Let’s see how fast you catch on this one, herbivore.

Ruggie’s mini donuts covered in chocolate match his new handmade bracelet.

Ruggie hasn't received, nor gifted a Valentine's gift ever. Holiday presents were (and still are) something that he deems as important and special. The only times when he did gift something to someone were during birthdays and as thanks, and vice versa. He’s not used to receiving presents outside those situations, and what’s even more surprising to him is that you were the one that brought the gift. Actually, no; what’s more surprising than that is that you don’t want anything in return, something that really caught him off guard. Less to say that he is going to be over-protecting those presents; this was something that you made for him and him only, and so it shall continue that way except the donuts, he can’t let them rot, can he?

Jack’s pear cider chocolates match his new snowboarding gloves. 

Jack has actually received quite a few Valentine’s gifts, but the thing is, just like Deuce, he still doesn’t know who the person behind those presents was. He never paid a lot of attention to it at the time, and so he continued with his life. Now he’s aware that he had to paid attention before. The one day that he doesn’t check the calendar ends up being Valentine’s Day; I can completely assure you that he’s setting up an alarm for the next one, also adding to the reminder some present ideas that say: “you’re my crush,” but don’t scream it. When you leave, he stands so still you can mistake him for a statue; if statues could wag their tail, of course.

Savanaclaw is savage what a shock, right? These boys would not even let the other one stand next to their present. Sevens, they wouldn’t even let them breathe next to their present.

"I feel sorry for you. That's really all the Herbivore got you?"

"At least I will make sure to use it. I wonder how long it will take before that pendant disappears."

"What did you say?"

"I guess I will see you later. I don't want to be a part of this."

"Hey, come back!"

"We haven't even started on your present!"

VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, THIRD STOP: OCTAVINELLE

Octavinelle, as your following choice, felt like a secure place. You were almost sure you were going to find your friends in the blink of an eye, give them their gifts and head to the next dorm. Yet the variable you didn’t have into account was considering how empty and eerie the dorm appeared at first glance.

"Henchman?" Grim started.

"Yeah?" You answered, slowly walking towards the Mostro Lounge.

"Don't ya’ think there's something fishy going on today?"

"What do you mean?"

"Floyd and Jade aren't here."

And upon that remark, you stopped. Looking around to try to spot your usually welcome committee, you noted that Grim was correct. Jade and Floyd were nowhere to be found, slightly confusing you.

"Well, today must be a busy day at the Mostro Lounge. They are most likely working," you said, resuming your walk.

Although Grim didn’t seem to want to continue the walk, scared to be a victim of whatever evil scheme the eels were plotting.

You assured that you wouldn’t let anything happen to him on your guard, to which he responded by saying he didn’t need your protection, rambling about how you dared to think he wasn't strong enough to protect you— Ahem, to protect himself and you, until he suddenly stopped.

"Henchman," he started again.

"Yeah?" you answered a second time.

"I think there's someone behind us—"

Noticing two large shadows that covered yours, you both slowly turned around, encountering two identical faces that looked down on you with a sly smile, vocalizing:

"Shrimpy~!"

"What a pleasant surprise to see you here, Prefect."

Grim let out a high-pitched scream, hiding behind your legs due to the shock, unaware of the death stare that Floyd directed at him.

"Ah, Jade, Floyd. We were just talking about you," you said, sighing in relief upon listening to their characteristic voices.

"Wah~! Did you hear that, Jade? Shrimpy was looking for me~" Floyd exclaimed, to which his twin only chuckled.

"I heard that she was looking for both of us, in fact," and before his brother could whine in response, Jade added. "Why would that be, Prefect?"

"Before I answer to that, do you know where Azul is?" you asked, looking behind them in hopes that the octomerman would appear.

"Azul? Oh, that's right," Jade let out a small smile. "He must be looking for us."

"Eh~? But I don't want to go back!" Floyd whined, thinking about what he could do to avoid going to work again. "Oh!" He exclaimed, an imaginary light bulb appearing over his head. "I can hide behind you, right, Shrimpy~?"

"You can try, but I don't think it would do much," you responded, and just when he was about to do it, you heard a yell coming from the end of the hallway.

"Jade! Floyd!" Azul screamed, walking over to where you were. "Do I need to remind you that you are still working? If you continue—"

"Hello, Azul," you greeted, seeing how the businessman yelped due to the surprise, unaware that you were behind Jade. "Great timing, I was about to look after you."

"Prefect!" He exclaimed, unconsciously tidying himself up, trying to distract you from his earlier action. "And why did you want to see me?" He stuttered, cheeks tinted of a light pink.

"I'm sure you already know what day is today, so I'm just going to give you these," you briefly explained, handing all of them their respective gifts and chocolates. "Happy Valentine's Day!"

"Valentine's...?" Floyd muttered, face brightening up due to the excitement. "Does this mean Shrimpy loves me~?" He boldly asked, trying to get a shy reaction out of you, all while Azul covered his face in embarrassment, making this scenario all the much more entertaining to Jade, who was lightly chucking.

Yet when all of this unfolded, you talked, saying something that took all three of them by surprise. “Of course, I love you all after all,” you replied with a bright and contagious smile; it was at that moment that Grim realised that if he didn't do anything about this soon, they wouldn't let you go, and he can't let that happen.

"Henchman! We have to get going! Is gonna take us forever to finish if we stay here!" 

You sighed at Grim’s impatient behavior, not really understanding where it was coming from. But he was right; your chocolates weren’t going to last a whole day outside, they just weren’t made for that kind of purpose.

"As you see, me and my new guardian have to get going, so I will see you later," you joked, being weakly dragged by your companion, biding them farewell (hoping that Floyd wasn’t going to carry you like a sack of potatoes, again).

Azul’s blueberry flavoured chocolate coins match his new octopus coin.

Azul didn't really care about Valentine's (and no, it’s not because he was made fun of constantly during this day, why would you think that? It was, please give this boy lots of hugs and support); the only reason keeps track of it is that he knows it's a very profitable holiday. And I said "didn't" because that was before he realised that he had a crush on you... Okay, maybe Jade made him aware, but he still realised it. He spent the last couple of months planning the perfect plan to confess to you or at least try to, but this wasn't on his schedule. He marked this situation as "very improbable," hence why he looks like he has a fever. Furthermore, he tries to dissimulate it since he doesn't want the twins to make fun of him (again), but it's too late. A flustered Azul is always going to be interesting to witness.

Jade’s chocolate shaped mushrooms (like the Meiji Kinoko Chocolate), match his new decorations for his terrariums.

Jade is sort of neutral about Valentine's. He's not one that usually gives gifts (he definitely gave Floyd some mushrooms as a Valentine’s gift, and you can tell he was not happy about it), but he has definitely received a couple of presents, which he usually doesn’t keep unless they're interesting enough. But, if he's being honest, he wouldn't throw away anything that you gift to him; most people would call it "simping", he calls it "courtesy." His first reaction is to smile upon receiving it, yet unlike most of his mannerisms (which he keeps very controlled), this was something that to the untrained eye would go unnoticed, yet his twin and his boss childhood friend know that there's a hint of genuine happiness in it.

Floyd’s sea salt caramel lego-shaped chocolates match his new eel bracelet with his name on it.

Unlike his brother, Floyd thinks Valentine's is a very interesting holiday. He considers it the “funniest” day just because he finds the rejected Valentine’s faces so amusing. One thing he has in common with Jade though, is that he doesn't keep most of the presents given to him, especially if he can't see the reaction of the person. So, to meet his expectations you have to: one, give it to him directly, and two, wait for the best. Fortunately, we're talking about you, so that’s good news for you. Although the bad news is that you only have two options now that you’ve given him something: run or face his clinginess. 

If you didn’t know who these students were, you wouldn’t be amused, but if you do, well, it certainly was strange seeing all three (especially Floyd) staying idle in the middle of the hallway just... Existing.

"Why are you standing there? Go back to work."

"Aren't you going with us, boss?"

"Yeah! That's really unfair!"

"I have some important things that I have to take care of."

"Really? How strange, I remember you said that you had some paperwork to do."

"Oh~ Jade caught you lying, Azul~"

"Just go back to work, and don't even think about following me."

"Do you want to follow him, Jade~?"

"Of course, Floyd."

VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, FOURTH STOP: SCARABIA

Since Scarabia was your next stop, you were a bit worried. Mainly because Scarabia’s weather, just like Savanaclaw, wasn’t the ideal for your chocolates to be in. Yet, something that kept your hopes high was your positivism, assuring yourself (in order to not panic) that you were going to find your friends rapidly.

"Henchman, don't ya' think we should hurry? I don't think those chocolates can stand this heat."

"I know, it’s starting to worry me," you responded, face changing from concern to determination. "But I think I know where they could be."

Grim tilted his head, as if asking: "What do you mean?"

"I called Kalim earlier to ask him about his and Jamil's plans. They don't stay in one place for long, so it was only to be sure."

"And where are they then?"

"Right here," you stated, standing in front of a big door: the one that contained all of Kalim's treasures.

You grabbed the handle, ready to open it when suddenly, the door pulled towards you. It collided with your forehead, making you lose your balance slightly, trying to not fall since it could make it worse.

"Prefect!" The Scarabia students exclaimed, worried and confused about what just happened. "Are you okay?!"

"It's okay, I'm okay," you reassured them, holding your head as a reflexive reaction.

"Henchman! Can you hear me?!" Grim yelled, making you wince slightly due to the headache. "How dare ya', pesky humans! She could have died!"

"I'm so sorry, Prefect! Do you need to go to the infirmary? Jamil and I can bring you there!" Kalim exclaimed; eyes full of concern out of fear of something severe happening to you.

"Don't worry, Kalim. I know it was an accident," you said, feeling much better now that they were starting to quiet down. “I’m sure it’s not going to leave a scar or something.”

"Prefect, are you completely sure? We don't have any problem accompanying you to the nurse," Jamil suggested, but you refused.

"Guys, seriously, I'm fine," you said, crouching down, so you could look for their gifts. "Now onto the thing I wanted to talk about..." You handed them the presents and chocolates. "Happy Valentine's."

"Valentine's...?" Kalim asked, thinking about something for a moment before an imaginary light bulb appeared over his head. "Oh, that's right! We also have a present for you as well! Right, Jamil?"

Jamil didn't answer, seemingly lost for a few seconds until he snapped out of his trance. "Yeah, that's right," he answered, murmuring a little "thanks," loud enough for you to hear.

"It's nothing. I hope you like it, I tried to make them the best I could."

Before they could show you your gift, Grim had enough of this and decided that it was time to move on, practically dragging you outside Scarabia.

"Goodbye guys, maybe we can see each other later— Grim! Stop pulling me! I only have this pair of pants!"

Kalim and Jamil may be very different, but if they had one thing in common as of right now is that they were completely happy to receive such a heartfelt gift.

Kalim’s coconut chocolates match his new friendship bracelet.

Kalim has definitely received plenty of Valentine's chocolates and gifts in equal amounts, even if most of them came from his parents and his thirty siblings. All of this made Kalim believe that celebrating Valentine’s like that was very normal to be honest, it’s more of a lovely Halloween than most things, but that’s fine, it’s Kalim; at least, the platonic side of it. This could explain why it felt kind of odd when he received your gift, but don’t worry! It’s a good type of odd. He knows that he has a crush on you Jamil’s courtesy, so this gave him the slight hope that you might see him more than a friend one day. And even if not, he’s totally okay with it, since he will still be able of being your friend.

Jamil’s chili pepper chocolates match his new talking parrot plushie.

Jamil isn’t very fond of Valentine’s. It is not a surprise that he didn’t receive as many gifts as Kalim, but he never showed his discomfort to not anger his family; after all, he already knew that he just wasn’t made to give and receive something like that, or at least, that was his mentality until you and your adorable present came into the picture. He just thinks you’re a box full of surprises He had absolutely no idea that he was going to fall for you, but just like he never expected to like you, you surprised him with a gift. You gifted him something. MC, let me tell you that if he wasn’t head over heels for you, he now is.

Scarabia is by far the most normal one out the seven dorms. They’re happy, and that’s all. The difference is that one of them shows it and the other doesn’t.

“Did you see that, Jamil?! She said she made them herself!”

“Yes, Kalim, I heard it. You don’t have to yell”

“Oh, right, sorry!”

“...”

VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, FIFTH STOP: POMEFIORE

Pomefiore, being the next one on your list, gave you hope. Hope that maybe your original plan will work, and that you would be able to leave quickly enough to continue the rest of your long journey.

But, as you already may have guessed, things can’t be that simple.

“How strange...” You muttered, walking away from the common room after finding it empty. “Where could they be?”

“Nyah! It’s gonna take us forever to find them!” Grim whined, already tired from all the searching. “Can’t we just leave the gifts at their doors?”

“I’m not going to do that, Grim,” you stated, intently searching for your friends. “The whole point of this was to hand them the presents personally, even if it takes me the whole day.” Believe me, MC. It is going to take you the whole day.

“But we can’t just expect them to appear out of nowhere!” He claimed, unaware of the towering figures that stood right behind him after voicing those words.

“Yes, that seems certainly impossible,” Vil said, scaring Grim to the point where he climbed to your arms, hissing at the student. “Oh, did I scare you?” He teased, a bit more playful than usual.

“For your information, ya’ didn’t scare me!” Your companion quickly retorted, and although he tried to come up with an excuse to fight back, you stepped in to prevent a petty argument—certainly a wise decision—.

“So, before Grim can start a discussion here, in the middle of the hallway. Again,” you called out, eyeing him, trying to make him understand the hint. “I would like to give you these.”

“Are these... Gifts?” Epel asked, unsure of why the sudden display of affection. “Why are ya’ giving us this...?”

“Epel, don’t be disrespectful,” Vil corrected, sighing upon seeing that his little apprentice apparently didn’t know what day it was. 

“You see, Monsieur Crabapple. Today is the magnifique holiday called Valentine’s Day!” Rook briefly clarified, proceeding to deliver a monologue embellished with fancy words, listing all the wonderful things that Valentine’s entailed. “How wonderful out of you, dear Trickster, to grace us with these detailed presents!”

The hunter approached you, taking your hands in his as he gazed into your eyes, seemingly aware of the looks he was receiving from his housewarden and dorm fellow.

It wasn’t until Vil coughed that Rook stopped, only chuckling slightly while leaving your hand, not wanting to infuriate his beautiful friend.

“They do seem very elaborate. So, I’m grateful for this present, dear potato,” he thanked, looking at Epel to remind him that he hadn’t thanked you yet.

“Oh! Thank you for these gifts, MC. I’m sorry that I don’t have anything to give you in return...” The boy apologized, making you sigh once again.

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” You commented, amused at your friend’s sincere words. “I’m not doing this in exchange for gifts. This is a gift to thank you all for being amazing friends.”

Ouch. Collective friend-zoning. That must’ve hurt.

“Yet, we do have presents for you, ma chérie,” Rook voiced, not wanting you to go before you received their display of affection.

“Indeed. We don’t have them here, but—”

“No!” Grim interrupted, having enough of the whole conversation. “Henchman, it’s getting late and, we still have lots of gifts to deliver!” He said, trying to convince you to get out of Pomefiore before Vil and Rook’s charms trapped you there.

You turned to the students, doing an apologetic bow before explaining. “I’m sorry, he’s right. I can’t stay for much longer. But I appreciate the intention, and I hope to see you later— Grim! Why are you so impatient?!”

“We have to keep moving! So say goodbye to them already!” The little creature demanded, threatening to rip the hem on your pants.

“Okay, okay! Goodbye, guys! Maybe we can meet later!” Was the last thing they heard you say before disappearing behind a corner with your protective monster-cat.

And so, surprised and with rosy cheeks that weren’t part of their makeup, they headed towards the— Oh, it seems like they don’t remember anymore... You’re giving people amnesia, MC.

Vil's chocolate-covered berries match his new bouquet of violets.

Vil has a long history with Valentine’s Day; specifically the gift part of Valentine’s. This man right here has received countless gifts and cards from fans and people around him confessing their love in extravagant—and sometimes expensive—ways. He’s used to this by this point, but his balance point was broken the moment you decided to hand him that present. Dear potato, have you ever thought about being the partner of a renowned celebrity? No...? Well, would you like to? Because Vil takes this detail as your way of expressing your fondness for him. Sure, you said it was because he’s an ‘amazing friend’ (which he obviously is), but that doesn’t mean you can’t see him as more than a friend. After all, Vil’s patience is truly one of his virtues just don’t tell him you have a gift for Neige. You know, only if you want him to live a bit longer.

Rook’s mint chocolates match his new poetry book.

Oh dear, when I say no one at Night Raven College loves Valentine’s as much as Rook does, I’m being completely serious. We’re talking about a holiday that’s all about expressing love, and taking into account that Rook calls himself “le chasseur d’amore...” There’s not much left to piece together, is it. He is mesmerized by this gift; it doesn’t matter if you said it was to appreciate his friendship, he’s focusing on the fact that you, kind and wholehearted you, seemed to put so much effort to make this present that was for him and him only. Oh, beautiful Trickster; I hope you are prepared, for this dedicated hunter is going to be next at your feet expressing his admiration and appreciation for you in a very... ‘Rook manner,’ for the next couple of days... Or weeks. Maybe months, but it’s not like he didn’t do that from before, so that’s fine.

Epel’s chocolate-dipped apple rings match his new apple plushie (with an evil smile, may I add)

Epel isn’t really involved in Valentine’s. His experience with it consists of him occasionally receiving some gifts from his family and carving out some apples with Valentine’s elements on them. Being the only young boy in a village full of elderly people, we can assume that he never really got into touch with the romantic part of the holiday; at least, not until now. And I have to congratulate you, MC; you just made Epel’s face resemble an apple, and all because of your thoughtfulness. Now, does he think that having plushies is manly? No. But will he put your gift aside because of this? No. Not only because it will make you sad, but also because he assumes it wouldn’t be so bad to have an evil apple plushie in his room. You know, at least it’s evil, and that makes it a bit more manly. Sevens Epel, a manly apple-?

Pomefiore are just turning on the passive-aggressive mode. Nothing can stop these boys from feeling superior just because they received a personalized gift (which everyone got, but let’s not ruin their fantasy).

“Isn’t our belle Trickster so endearing. To take her precious time by making all of us these detailed gifts; ah, what a beautiful way to celebrate Valentine’s!”

“Although yours doesn’t seem that detailed, Rook. Are ya’ happy with that pocket diary?”

“I could ask the same to you, Epel. Although I may say that plushie compliments you.”

“Quit that, please...”

“There’s no need to be embarrassed, Monsieur Crabapple! The magnifique shade of this plushie truly enhances your beauty!”

“I’m not going to ask you anything from today onwards...”

VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, SIXTH STOP: IGNIHYDE

Ignihyde had to be the easier dorm to “infiltrate” so far. The housewarden was known for being a programming genius, but also, and most important of all, for staying in his room.

It was a fool-proof plan. Entering Ignihyde, encountering Ortho along the way, and finally, greet Idia at his bedroom Nothing could go wrong.

And this may surprise you, but contrary to all the things that happened to you today, nothing went wrong. In fact, the list of events I just spelled did happen in that order.

After entering Ignihyde, you were greeted with the usual sight of an almost empty living room, saluting the few students that weren’t occupied with winning an intense game of Animal Crossing.

Subsequent to the first stage of your plan, you encountered the youngest Shroud brother while walking towards the oldest, seeing his cheerful face approach you with a welcoming voice.

“Hello, MC! What brings you here today?” Ortho said, instantly noting the large bag behind your bag. “And why are you carrying that bag? Are my brother and you going to study today?”

You giggled at his comment, shaking your head in refusal. “Not exactly. I’m here to gift Idia a Valentine’s present.” You explained, followed by asking if he was in his room.

Ortho stayed silent for a couple seconds, quickly searching for the holiday you just mentioned, and when he knew what it was about... Let’s just say that his expectations of you confessing to Idia (because honestly, at this point he knows his brother isn’t going to, for now, at least) were rising like the sky-high.

“Of course! My brother will be very happy to see you and to receive your awesome present, MC!” The little one answered, taking you by your hand to guide you to Idia’s room.

As soon as he arrived, Ortho knocked on the door, patiently waiting for his brother’s response.

“What is it, Ortho?” Idia asked, lazily opening the door, thinking that Ortho had come up with another plan to hang out with you. Jokes on him, no plan was needed, as you were right in front of him, a wide smile plastered over your face. “MC—!” He blurted out, surprised to see you.

“Hello, Idia,” you exclaimed, assuming that it would be best if you explained the meaning behind your visit. “I know you may be busy, and I don’t intend to take much of your time. I just wanted to give you this,” and thus you gifted the blue haired boy a small blue box, alongside a translucent bag of chocolates.

“Huh...? W-why are you giving me this...?” The boy questioned, only to be smacked with a reality check by remembering all the special side quests he completed regarding the love and friendship’s special day. “Oh. OH—”

In the blink of an eye his hair goes from blue to a bright pink, not giving you enough time to comment about it since he shuts the door just as fast, too embarrassed to pronounce a word other than a small: “thank you.”

“Brother! Are you okay? Your heart rate is going extremely fast!” Ortho voiced, not really helping Idia’s situation don’t tell him that, he’ll get sad.

“Don’t worry, Ortho. I’m pretty sure Idia’s okay. He must’ve been taken aback, that’s all.”

“Yeah, he’s definitely fine and we should definitely go to deliver these last presents,” Grim suggested, already making his way back to the mirror chamber.

“Not so fast, Grim. I have yet to give Ortho his gift.” The mentioned raised an eyebrow, certainly not expecting that.

“A gift? For me?” He uttered while moving his head to the side in curiosity.

“Yeah, for you,” you reiterated, handing him a little box—no chocolates this time because, well, he’s a robot—. “I hope you like it. You can place them wherever you want, and they also got little chains in case you want to bring them with you.”

He stares at the keychains, looking at the similar characteristics between him, his brother, Grim and you; and with a bright smiley face, he exclaims: “thank you, MC! I will make sure to take great care of these!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. We have to keep going, if you don’t mind.”

“Goodbye, Ortho. And goodbye, Idia! Hope you like your present too!” You voiced, unsure if he heard you or not.

Oh, and indeed he heard you, it’s just that he’s a little too occupied trying to not die from cuteness overload— Never mind, he just short-circuited.

Idia’s peanut butter chocolates match his new videogame.

Taking into account his past, we can safely say that Idia didn’t really have a lot of experience with Valentine’s, aside from the games, that’s for sure. He never gave or received any chocolates nor gifts, and you know what? He was fine with that; just enjoying his games and not worrying about love and romance at least irl, because this man proclaims himself as an expert when it comes to ships in manga and video games. He was fine, and now he isn’t. His mind is flooded with too many questions, like: why on earth would you give him anything? Is it because of social etiquette or because you wanted to? How did you get your hands on this game? Should he take this as a sign to finally confess his undeniable crush on you—? Okay, he may have gone a little too far with that one. But don’t worry! He is going to do it, it’s just that it might take a bit of time. He’s absolutely going to gift you something back, don’t doubt it. But you may want to wait after the short-circuit passes.

VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, SEVENTH AND FINAL STOP: DIASOMNIA

Now, you knew that Diasomnia was going to be a tough one. Firstly, you were sure there was going to be a lot of shouting (Sebek’s courtesy), followed by Lilia, and possibly Malleus’ teasing. Silver was the only one that didn’t really do much apart from being the most normal being out of the four that’s a compliment, Silver. You make MC’s life a bit easier.

“Okay, Grim,” you started, happy upon seeing that this was the last location. “After this, we can go back to Ramshackle and eat the dinner you were so impatient for. Isn’t that exciting?”

No response.

“Well, I know you’re tired, but I have to thank you for accompanying me today. Even if you were a bit rude and odd, it really means a lot that—” 

“The Great Grim is going to fight all of you...!” He interrupted, mumbling incoherent things while you looked at his sleeping face, not sure when or how he fell asleep.

“I should have guessed that a whole day of walking may end up in this,” you muttered, carefully lifting him up so he could rest in your shoulders, trying to accommodate him the best you could as you made your way towards the Witch of Thorns’ dorm.

If felt strange having Grim by your side and not hearing him chit-chat with his characteristic tone, after all, it’s not like Grim and silence usually got along unless he was sleeping or reprimanded.

Feeling a bit bored, you started to hum softly, slowly strolling to find the garden, where you thought your friends might be.

It didn’t take long for you to encounter them, and they, likewise, didn’t take long to notice you were there. 

Malleus approached you first, a smile spreading across his face upon seeing you. “How delightful it is to see you, Child of Man. What brings you here today?” He asked, unsuspecting of the surprise you’ve prepared for all of them.

“Oh. Don’t tell me the rumors are true,” Lilia voiced, floating behind you to take a peek inside your bag. It seemed like him, unlike the rest of the dorm, was aware of your intentions.

“What rumors...?” You questioned, keeping him from grabbing one of the small boxes sitting at the bottom of the bag. 

He blinked in surprise, followed by a giggle after realising that you had no idea what was being said behind your back. “I wouldn’t like to ruin the surprise. It’s something you may want to express yourself, am I right?”

“Master Lilia! What do you mean by that?” Sebek shouted, prompting you to shush him quickly so Grim wouldn’t wake up. “You dare to quiet me down, human—!”

“Sebek,” Silver intervened, noticing the sleeping being on your shoulders, and thus he pointed it for the green haired boy to see.

“I’m sorry for shushing you, Sebek. It’s just that Grim is asleep and I don’t want to wake him up,” you apologized, hoping that your crocodile friend would try to lower his voice at least a little.

“O-okay, human. But—!” He paused briefly, trying to not raise his voice. “I’m not doing it because of your orders.”

You sighed, thankful for his thoughtfulness, even if he didn’t want to admit it. “Thank you, Sebek.”

Malleus coughed as he eyed his guardian’s red face, wanting to continue the original topic. “Say, Child of Man. You were about to tell us the meaning behind your visit.”

“Oh, that’s right,” you replied, cautiously taking the four remaining gifts to give them to the students. “I wanted to give you something as a Valentine’s Day present. So, I hope you like these details,” you stated, sighing after handing out the gifts, glad that this would be the last parade.

“My, my. I didn’t expect to receive a Valentine’s Day gift until a couple more of years,” Lilia muttered, seemingly happy to see his gift. 

Silver stood silently for a few seconds, quickly realising that he had to thank you, softly expressing his gratitude over your recent action.

Sebek felt in the obligation to ask the purpose of this unexpected act, but since he wasn’t able didn’t want to express it his usual way, he recurred to mumble a small ‘thank you,’ taking you by surprise.

And the last and most dramatic reaction of all had to be given to Malleus. Just as we’ve seen before, he tends to... Overreact a little when it comes to small details like this one; so, in truly dragon-fae fashion, he kneeled before you, took your hand and prepared to say the words he’s been wanting to say for a long time now.

Lilia, however, had to step in, immediately clarifying how Valentine’s Day is also a day express your love for your friends. Less to say that if Malleus had his dragon ears, they would be flopped down like a puppy.

“Well. It seems that your wonderful visit has brought new moments to reminisce about,” the old fae said, trying his best to ease the situation. “We are very grateful for what you’ve gifted us today.”

“I’m happy to see that you’ve liked them,” you voiced, chuckling a bit after witnessing their reactions. “And, although I can’t really stay for much longer, I enjoyed this moment with you.”

You were about to head out after biding them goodbye, only to be stopped by Malleus, who was still a little gloomy for the news he just received. “Do you really have to go now, Child of Man?”

“Unfortunately, I do. It’s already late and Grim might get mad at me if he finds out that he’s not at Ramshackle when he wakes up,” you calmly explained, softly caressing his cheek as you walked away, promising him that you would have more time to spend together tomorrow.

You better keep that promise, MC. Malleus is already too dejected to suffer another deception.

Malleus’ gelato truffles match his new gargoyle keychain.

Malleus’ knows what Valentine’s is, but his knowledge about it is limited to the romantic part of it. Hence why he is about to pursue you, ready to propose, again, and take you to his castle so that you can live a long and happy life together; until Lilia explained him the other side of the holiday, disappointing the dragon fae. Well, excuse him, Lilia, but how was he supposed to know that humans also celebrate their friendship during Valentine’s. He’s frustrated, but also enchanted  in a nutshell, he’s a mess right now. Yes, he’s still quite sad that this wasn’t a confession and that he may have to wait a bit of time before making a move on you, but nonetheless, you just expressed that you care and appreciate him, and that, at least for now, was enough for him.

Lilia’s green tea chocolates match his new bouquet of black and fuchsia roses.

Lilia has witnessed and experienced many Valentine’s days during his life. He probably has enough information to fill an entire encyclopedia about it, maybe including some of his stories as a bonus. Having lived for so long, Lilia finds enjoyment in how humans celebrate their holidays; and Valentine’s wasn’t the exception. He reminisces about his past lovers and confidants, basking in the subtle aroma of his recently acquired bouquet while thinking about all the memories he made along the way. This may sound like something an old man would say, but Lilia truly relishes in the fleeting moments that life graces him with; he most definitely takes delight in spending those moments with you, happy to see that you also enjoy his presence.

Silver’s cashew chocolates match his new deer plushie.

Silver’s pretty much indifferent towards Valentine’s. He doesn’t have time to celebrate these kinds of festivities when he has to make sure his young master isn’t in any danger. But he guesses that once a while won’t hurt... Malleus and Lilia are within his sight, Sebek is right next to him, and he doesn’t have the will to reject your gift. After all, who is he to decline such a selfless act? He gives you a warm smile as his cheeks turn into a slight shade of pink, uttering grateful words until he was too sleepy to continue the conversation. Just as he was slowly falling asleep, he unconsciously hugged his new stuffed plushie, unaware of the future teasing his father would carry out. Well, seeing the bright side of it though: he had an splendid nap and you had another sleeping beauty Silver picture. A win-win situation indeed.

Sebek’s lemon caramel chocolates match his new crocodile and dragon mug.

Sebek wasn’t and still isn’t fond of Valentine’s Day. In fact, he’s not fond of almost any of the holidays that you, mere humans, like to celebrate. However, even if he states that he doesn’t care about your gift and complaints about your display of affection towards his young master, Sebek ends up liking you a little bit more than usual. Don’t be mistaken, human! It’s not because of the cute action you just confer upon him, why would you even think that? He just thinks that a gift like this can be very useful, that’s all! He’s not smitten by your sweet smile, kind and thoughtful self, or the way your eyes shine when you’re happy... Wait, what was he saying? Oh, of course! He’s definitely not smitten by any of those things I just mentioned, so don’t you dare to think that after he gifts you your Valentine’s gift. What? It’s called being polite, you know?

Diasomnia might be the only dorm that doesn’t take down the gifts from the other students. Most likely because they were all a happy and beloved family... And also due to them thinking very highly of their presents. But is something that most people have done at this point, so the first part still stands.

“How come I didn’t know about this...”

“Oh, don’t worry, my prince! For the Prefect most certainly did this with love and effort for all of us!”

“It certainly seems that human put so much care into these...”

“What are you mumbling, Sebek?”

“N-nothing!”

“That’s right. If I gift Child of Man a present deserving of her, I can partake in this celebration with her.”

“What an enlivening idea! This makes the perfect occasion to try out that cookie recipe I got from Jade, kee hee~”

“Father, please don’t.”

INITIAL STOP: RAMSHACKLE

The wood of the door creaking was the only sound that could be heard upon returning to your dorm. Being accustomed to it, you didn’t think of it as you left Grim on the couch, sitting next to him while watching his peaceful face, far away in dreamland.

“Aww, isn’t he the cutest when he isn’t awake?” Brawley commented, appearing out of nowhere as he floated around the little creature.

“So, tell us, MC. How did you Valentine’s journey go?” Conrad asked, anticipating an answer that never came. “MC?”

When the ghosts turned to look at you, all they found was your sleeping form, who couldn’t resist the tiredness after a whole day of walking and searching.

“Poor thing. She must be so exhausted,” Arthur said, dragging a blanket to shield you from the cold weather. “I can’t believe she really took it upon herself to prepare all of those gifts.”

“Right? I haven’t seen anyone so determined to prepare so many boxes and chocolates without expecting something in return,” Brawley added, trying his best to sneak a pillow under your head.

“Well, she may not expect anything in return, but I’m almost completely sure those boys are going to return the favor,” Conrad voiced, placing Grim in a more comfortable spot close to you, careful to not wake him up.

After that, your ghost fellows decided to float around for a bit, talking amongst themselves to guess what the gifts your friends had for you might be, also questioning if they were also thinking of competing not only for your attention, but for your love as well.

THE END~

DON'T REPOST.

EVERY CHARACTER BELONGS TO DISNEY AND YANA TOBOSO, AND I DON'T TAKE CREDIT FOR THEM.

[bossbtch1]

Against All Odds

The GIF is not mine; credit goes to the respective artist/creator.

Summary : You recently joined the Avengers, and everyone has accepted you except for Bucky. Now, the challenge lies in proving him wrong, but can you succeed changing his mind and earn his trust? Or do you have to do more to earn it? (geez, I’m suck at this)

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader (No mentions of body type or ethnicity other than the reader being female)

TW: SMUT, 18+, strong language, enemies-to-lovers-ish, oral (m receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, degradation (slut calling), slight choking, orgasm denial

Word Count: Around 10k (I know it's a bit long, I got carried away. Sorry) → smut is like 4k hehe

Author's Note: This is my first attempt at writing a story, and it’s a smut one at that. English isn't my first language, so apologies for any mistakes or bad grammar. I hope you still enjoy the story!

Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3

If you like my story, please go check out my other stories here

These are the aesthetic for part 1 (solely for visual representation of what going to happen on the story, this meant no representation for body type or ethnicity)

You've always been a dependable agent ever since you were young, someone who could handle the toughest missions without letting your emotions get in the way. Nick Fury spotted your potential when you were just a kid, taking you under his wing. It was his belief in you that kept you going, and it all led to the thrilling moment when he thought it was time for you to join the Avengers. After all those years of hard work, it felt like a dream come true.

Then came your first day with the team. You'd just joined, and they wanted to see how good you were in a fight. You almost beat Natasha in a really intense battle, proving to everyone that you totally belonged with the Avengers. Your determination to show your worth never wavered. But there was this one guy, Bucky Barnes, who just couldn't seem to trust you no matter what.

On your first day with the Avengers, the training room buzzed with anticipation as you faced off against Natasha Romanoff, Black Widow. It was a test of your combat skills, a way to see if you had what it took to be part of Earth's mightiest heroes. The desire to become one of them, although it might sound cliché and cringey, burned within you.

The Avengers, including Nick Fury, Captain America, Iron Man, Winter Soldier, Hawkeye and Thor, watched from up above, all curious and eager to see how you'd do. Their faces showed they were rooting for you.

However, as you glanced upward to catch your breath, your eyes locked onto Bucky Barnes. He stood there, solitary and stern, arms crossed over his chest. His intense gaze bore into you, but unlike the other Avengers, his expression was far from encouraging. There was a deep skepticism in his eyes, a doubt that seemed unshakable, and it cast a shadow over your determination to prove yourself to the team.

Natasha, dressed in her familiar black outfit, gave you a serious look that made you stop staring up. When she spoke, you turned your attention to her. "Think you've got this, newbie?" she teased, a touch of amusement in her voice.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. This was your moment to prove yourself, and there was no turning back. The weight of your new Avengers uniform felt both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. "I'm ready, Natasha.", you responded with determination. You weren't going to back down now.

Natasha grinned. "We'll see about that."

The two of you circled each other, and then, without warning, Natasha lunged at you with lightning speed. Her attack was quick and precise, but you were able to block it, thanks to your training. As the two of you sparred, the crowd cheered and shouted their support. It was a battle of wits and willpower, and neither of you was willing to give up.

"You're good," Natasha admitted, her voice dripping with genuine admiration. "But let's see how you handle this." With a fluid motion, she unleashed a series of acrobatic moves, flipping and twisting through the air before landing gracefully behind you.

You spun around to face her, sweat beading on your forehead. "Impressive, but I'm not done yet."

The fight continued, and you pushed yourself to keep up with Natasha's relentless assault. Your training and instincts kicked in, and you began to hold your own. It was a back-and-forth battle, each of you landing hits and dodging the other's attacks.

But Natasha was more experienced than you, and eventually, she managed to overpower you. She had you pinned to the ground, her face inches away from yours. You struggled against her grip, but she held you firmly in place. "Had enough?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Gritting your teeth, you mustered all the determination you had left. "Not a chance," you replied, refusing to admit defeat.

The crowd went wild as Natasha delivered the final blow, knocking you out. She stood there, victorious, a small smile playing on her lips acknowledging your impressive performance. "Good fight," she said, extending a hand to help you up.

You accepted her hand, "Thanks, Natasha. You're incredible."

The room erupted in applause, and everyone from the observation deck descended to congratulate you. Fury, wearing a proud smile, gave you a warm hug. "Well done, Y/N. You're officially part of the team," he declared, his words filled with pride. He whispered, "I'm proud of you, Y/N," and it meant the world to you.

But amid the celebration with your new teammates, there was one person who didn't seem as thrilled. James "Bucky" Barnes, the Winter Soldier, stood in a quiet corner of the room, his expression inscrutable.

You had felt his presence throughout the entire match, his intense gaze sending shivers down your spine. Bucky's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, then he turned and left the room, leaving you feeling more confused than ever.

Bucky went out of his way to undermine your confidence, pushing you to the brink of quitting time and time again. His words still fresh in your mind. "I don't think you're cut out for this, kid. This isn't a game. It's a matter of life and death. You’re not ready for this."

It hurt. You didn't understand why he was so determined to bring you down. What had you done to make him dislike you so much? Despite Bucky's relentless doubts, you refused to back down. You were determined to earn his respect, just as you had with the rest of the team.

So, every day, you trained harder, pushed yourself further, and proved your worth on every mission. Your hope was that one day, Bucky would finally see you for the capable agent you truly were and put his doubts to rest once and for all.

One day, as you were making your way to the gym, the sound of voices caught your attention. It was Bucky and Steve, engaged in a hushed conversation that seemed to revolve around you. Curiosity piqued, you tried to maintain a discreet distance, keen on hearing what they were saying. You knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but you couldn't help yourself.

"Buck, I think you're being too hard on her. She's a good fighter and she's eager to learn," Steve argued.

Bucky's skepticism remained unshaken. "I'm just trying to watch out for the team. She's a liability, not ready for this kind of responsibility."

Steve being the optimist pushed back gently, his support for you evident in his tone. "I think you're the only one who feels that way."

Bucky's voice grew firmer as he explained his perspective. "She's only here 'cause Nick Fury vouched for her. There are others who deserve this chance more. I could name a couple who'd fit better on this team than her."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, casting doubt on your worthiness. It was difficult to hear that the person you looked up to and wanted to prove yourself to was actually against you, even though Bucky's argument was valid.

You couldn't help but question if your acceptance into the Avengers was indeed solely because of Fury. You had always believed that your spot on the Avengers was earned through your skills and dedication. Bucky's doubts made you second-guess if you had truly earned your place.

"Buck, there's more to it than that," Steve replied, his voice steady. "Just be patient with her."

Unable to endure the conversation any longer, your heart felt heavy as you turned away, doing your best to conceal the hurt that washed over your face. With resolve, you changed your course and headed towards the field track, hoping a run would help clear your mind.

Later, as the sun set on the horizon, you were still out running laps. Your thoughts were racing, and your body was aching, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop.

"You're gonna wear yourself out if you keep pushing like that."

You jumped, startled by the sudden voice. Looking over your shoulder, you saw Bucky standing a few feet away, his arms crossed.

Caught off guard, you tried to put on a brave face. "I'm okay," you lied, attempting to hide the pain that was clearly etched on your face. Stopping abruptly had caused your feet to throb with discomfort.

Bucky, however, wasn't buying your façade. He narrowed his eyes, his concern deepening. "You're not. You're hurt."

In response, you shook your head stubbornly, your pride urging you to push through the pain. "I'll manage," you insisted, even though every step sent a sharp twinge through your feet.

Bucky's gaze remained sharp and unwavering. "You're not fooling anyone with that."

Deep down, you knew he was right. The pain was becoming harder to ignore, and your stubbornness could only take you so far. But in that moment, you weren't quite ready to admit defeat or show weakness, especially not to someone like Bucky.

Bucky took a step closer, his expression resolute. "Come on, we're heading inside," he stated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“I'm okay, I can-." You began to protest, but he interrupted you firmly, "Y/N, enough. This is an order. You're only making my job more difficult by trying to tough it out. Let's go, and I don't want to hear another word from you."

Reluctantly, you fell silent and went along with Bucky, allowing him to guide you back to the facility. As you walked, you couldn't help but mull over his earlier words, "You're making my job harder by trying to tough it out." It left you wondering why he cared or felt responsible for you, especially when you believed he disliked you.

Once inside, Bucky seated you and fetched a glass of water. Taking a sip, you felt a wave of relief as it helped ease some of your fatigue. Then, without uttering a word, Bucky briefly stepped away, returning in less than a minute with bandages and medicine in hand.

Your curiosity got the best of you, and you couldn't resist asking, "What's all that for?" Your eyes were drawn to the medical supplies.

"Take off your shoes and socks," Bucky directed, his tone brooking no dissent.

"I don't think I need..." You began to protest, but a quick glance at Bucky's determined face made it clear that there was no room for discussion.

Letting out a sigh, you gave in and removed your shoes and socks. What you saw shocked you: your feet were in a terrible state, bleeding and covered with painful blisters, a clear result of your overly enthusiastic run.

You heard Bucky mutter a curse under his breath as he knelt down in front of you. "Bucky, seriously, I can handle it," you tried to protest, but he wasn't having any of it.

"Just stay put and let me take care of this." His voice was firm, and he got to work tending to your battered feet. Gently, he placed your feet on his lap, starting to clean the cuts on your soles. You winced slightly as the sting of the alcohol met the open wounds.

While he busied himself tending to your injuries, you found your gaze drifting to him. Bucky was undeniably handsome and hot, you couldn't help but appreciate his appearance. As your eyes met his, he suddenly looked up at you.

"Got something on your mind?" he asked, his expression as enigmatic as ever.

You blinked, realizing that you'd been staring. Heat crept into your cheeks as you stammered, "I, uh, have an issue with my shoes." You finally managed to say, though it wasn't exactly the eloquent response you'd hoped for.

Bucky, his expression unamused, retorted, "Well, that's clear." After he finished bandaging your wounds, he added, "But there's more to it than just your shoes."

"You can't be out here, pushing yourself so hard if you're going to injure yourself. This isn't a game. You must take care of yourself. You can't expect to get the full experience if you're going to hurt yourself." His words were harsh, but they were true.

"I know," you admitted with a sigh, guilt gnawing at you. "I just got caught up and lost track of time. It's not that bad."

Bucky raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Not that bad?" He challenged you. "Then stand up. Let's see how not that bad it really is."

Your cheeks burned. You could already feel the ache in your legs and the throbbing pain in your feet. But you refused to show any weakness. Not now. Not in front of him.

"Fine." With a determined look, you pushed yourself up from the chair, wincing as you put weight on your injured soles. Your feet stung, and your muscles were sore, but you gritted your teeth and pushed through it.

Bucky couldn't help but scoff, clearly frustrated with your stubbornness and tendency to challenge him.  "You want to be part of this team, right?"

You nodded, your determination unwavering despite the discomfort. "Yeah, I do.”

"Then you need to stop being reckless and start acting like an Avenger. We can't afford to have someone on our team who's too stubborn to admit when they're injured. It's only gonna make things worse." he said firmly, taking a step closer to you. "Maybe you could start by, I don't know, following orders and not talking back every chance you get."

The harshness in his words took you by surprise, but they also cut deep. Because you knew he was right.

With that he left the room, leaving you behind to wallow in shame. You knew he was right. But it hurt, especially coming from him.

Weeks later, you received the news that you'd be joining the team on your very first mission. The excitement bubbled up inside you as you geared up for the assignment. But as the mission unfolded, things took a turn for the worse.

You spotted a group of enemies heading for a crowded area and impulsively decided to engage them without waiting for the team's signal or support. Your intentions were to protect the civilians, but your recklessness got the best of you. Your impulsive move led to a chaotic firefight, and in the midst of the chaos, a civilian stumbled into the line of fire, narrowly escaping harm.

Bucky, who had been keeping an eye on you, witnessed the entire sequence of events unfold. His anger and frustration boiled over as he watched you put not only yourself but also innocent bystanders in danger.

Inside the quinjet, as the mission concluded, he couldn't contain his fury any longer. "What the fuck was that, Y/N?!" he erupted, his voice echoing in the confined space.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, feeling an overwhelming sense of shame and regret.

"Sorry isn't good enough!" Bucky snapped, his intense gaze burning into you. You couldn't bear to meet his eyes, and instead, you cast your gaze downward, your hands trembling with the weight of your mistake.

"If you're gonna keep making mistakes like that, then maybe you don't belong on this team. You could've gotten someone killed back there." His words stung, but he was right.

Natasha stepped in to defend you, "Bucky, it was an accident, and it was her first mission. Everyone makes mistake.”

Bucky didn't back down. "Yeah, and accidents can cost lives, Nat. She need to be more careful," he retorted, glaring back at you. "You can't afford to be an idiot like that out there. What the fuck is wrong with you?" He yelled, his anger getting the best of him.

Clint said, "Hey! Enough. She's done enough of a beating already, I know she can do better next time."

"There might not be a next time," Bucky grumbled.

Confusion and worry welled up inside you. 'What do you mean by that?' you wondered silently, unable to find your voice.

Bucky's frustration boiled over as he remarked, "Maybe she should think twice about putting others at risk if she can't handle it."

You turned your gaze away, determined not to let the tears fall. Tony took charge of the situation, his voice steady and reassuring. "Alright, that's enough," Tony declared firmly. "We're all on edge right now after what happened. We all know she can do better, and we'll address it later. For now, let's just concentrate on getting back home."

The rest of the ride was filled with tension, Bucky's glare never leaving you as you tried your best to avoid his gaze.

Wanda noticed your discomfort and moved over to sit next to you. She placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder and asked gently, "How are you holding up?"

You appreciated Wanda's concern and gave her a small, grateful smile. "I'll be okay," you replied softly. "Just need some time to process everything. I guess I'm just a little overwhelmed."

Wanda patted your shoulder again, offering more comfort. "Mistakes are part of learning, especially on your first mission. Remember, the key is to learn from them and get better. Don't let Bucky's words get to you too much."

You let out a weary sigh, realizing the truth in her words. "Yeah, I know.”

The quinjet touched down on the landing pad, and a sense of relief washed over you as you realized you were finally back home. This was it. You were finally home. "We'll talk later, okay?" Wanda asked, giving you a sympathetic smile.

You nodded appreciatively at her and quickly made your way to your room. You wanted nothing more than to lock yourself away and forget the whole thing ever happened. But the guilt and shame were too much to bear.

About a month after the incident, news of another mission started to circulate rapidly around the Avengers' headquarters. The buzz of excitement and anticipation filled the air, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of emotions—both excitement and anxiety. This mission was your chance to redeem yourself after the missteps on your first assignment.

Determined to discuss your readiness for this new mission, you sought out Steve. As you approached his office, you noticed him engrossed in reading some files. You gently knocked on the open door.

"Hi Steve, may I come in?" you asked politely.

Steve looked up from the files and offered you a welcoming smile. He promptly closed the documents and gestured for you to enter. "Of course, come in Y/N." You stepped into his office, and he continued, "How are you doing, by the way?" Steve motioned for you to take a seat, showing genuine concern.

You settled into the chair across from him and fidgeted with your fingers, trying to find the right words. "I'm good, better than what happened last time..." You paused, your voice tinged with regret. "I'm sorry about last time..."

Steve's warm smile remained reassuring. "Hey, Y/N, that's okay. We all make mistakes," he said with a reassuring tone, "Don't beat yourself up too much about it, okay?" His kindness and understanding were a comfort, making you feel grateful for his leadership and support.

"So, what brings you here?" Steve asked with a welcoming smile.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. "I heard there's another mission in 2 days..." After a pause, you continued, "But I haven't received the assignment or briefing for it..."

Steve's friendly expression faltered, and he sighed. "Y/N, about that..." He looked genuinely conflicted. "We already have teams assigned to cover that mission. You don't need to worry about it."

Your heart sank, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. It was becoming increasingly clear that you were being sidelined. "Is this because of what happened on the last mission?" You finally voiced your concern, your tone a mix of frustration and hurt.

Steve must've noticed the change in your tone. "Y/N, there'll be plenty of missions, and you'll definitely join the next one, okay?"

You took a deep breath and forced a smile, masking the pain that was gnawing at you. "Ah, okay, Steve." You chuckled, though it felt forced. "That's alright, I was just curious.”

Steve smiled weakly, but you could tell he understood your disappointment. "Y/N..."

You got up from the seat, disappointment heavy in your chest. You knew this was likely Bucky's doing. "Thank you, Captain, for the information. Good luck on the mission!" With that, you turned and left the room, trying to hide your frustration and disappointment.

As everyone prepared to leave for the mission, they bid you farewell, their expressions filled with sympathy. You knew they felt sorry for leaving you behind in the tower. Watching them depart filled you with a profound sense of sadness, knowing you couldn't join them.

You returned to your room, aimlessly flipping through the channels on the TV, but nothing captured your interest. Your mind kept wandering back to the missed opportunity, and the guilt and frustration gnawed at you.

After a futile attempt at watching TV, you tried to occupy yourself with a book, but the words on the pages blurred together as your thoughts remained fixated on the mission. With a sigh, you put the book down, realizing you were too distracted to read.

Restlessly, you paced around your room, contemplating various ways to improve your skills and prove that you were a valuable member of the team. Maybe you could spend some time in the training room or review combat strategies. You knew you had to keep pushing yourself to become better.

Eventually, you settled on the idea of practicing your marksmanship in the training room. Grabbing your gear, you headed there with determination in your step, determined to make the most of your time while the team was away on the mission.

Inside the gym, you started with some intense punching and kicking exercises. It felt great to release your anger, sadness, and disappointment through physical exertion. As you pummeled the sandbag, you couldn't help but imagine it as Bucky's face, channeling your frustration and resentment into each punch and kick. You unleashed your emotions on the inanimate object, giving it your all to cope with the overwhelming mix of feelings inside you.

Sweat dripped down your face, mixing with the occasional tear, but you didn't let up. You wiped away the sweat and tears from your face. "What" punch "Do" punch "I" kick "Have" punch "To" kick "Do" punch "To" punch "Prove" punch "To" punch "You" kick "That" kick "I'm" punch "Just" kick "As" kick "Good" kick "As" punch "Them" punch kick punch kick.

Why were you treated this way? What had you done to earn Bucky's disdain? How could you prove your worth to him? Frustration boiled inside you, reaching its peak as you let out a guttural scream, causing the sandbag to plummet from the force of your final blow.

Panting, you collapsed on the gym floor, you were exhausted and emotionally drained, but you felt a strange sense of relief. You clenched and unclenching your fists. You flexed your fingers and winced as the pain shot through them.

You chose to ignore the pain and you slowly got up from the gym floor. You knew you had pushed yourself too hard, but it was the only way you could vent your frustration and anger.

Limping, you made your way towards the bench where you had left your belongings. The room felt heavy with the echo of your pounding. Your trembling hand found the familiar coolness of your water bottle, and you clutched it tightly, taking a long, refreshing gulp. The cool liquid soothed your parched throat.

Just as you were catching your breath, Bucky unexpectedly strolled into the room. His presence surprised you, you hadn't expected anyone else to be there, especially not him.

His gaze, sharp and perceptive, honed in on your movements, "Still trying to prove yourself, huh?" he remarked, his words hanging in the air like a challenge, his tone laced with doubt.

You met his gaze defiantly, refusing to back down even in the face of his skepticism. "I don't need to prove anything to anyone, including you," you replied, your voice steady despite the ache in your body. "I'm just making sure I'm ready for whatever comes our way. Maybe you should worry less about what I'm doing and more about why you're not on the mission with the rest of the team."

Bucky's expression remained inscrutable, his indifference a stark contrast to your determination. He nonchalantly shrugged, an aloof response to your pointed words.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you couldn't help but roll your eyes, your frustration with him boiling over. "Whatever, Barnes. Keep your doubts to yourself."

You began packing up your belongings, a clear signal that you were ready to depart from his presence. You suspected he was still watching you, his intense gaze never wavering, but you wanted nothing more than to distance yourself from him. It felt like he was deliberately keeping you from the mission, and the resentment simmered within you.

After finishing packing, you headed towards the exit, but Bucky halted you by grabbing your hand. You turned around, irritation clear in your eyes. "What do you want, Barnes?" you snapped, trying to pull your hand away. “What the hell? Let me go!”

Ignoring your protest, he led you back to the training area, placing you in front of him. An uneasy feeling settled in your stomach. Did he intend to spar with you? The uncertainty hung heavily in the air, making the atmosphere tense.

You stood your ground, your nervousness growing with every passing second. "What? Scared?" Bucky teased, a mocking smirk playing on his lips.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, refusing to let his taunts unnerve you. You managed a fake smile and replied, "Of you? No. Why would I be?" Determined not to show any fear.

Bucky's smirk widened as he said, "Well, you should be." He locked eyes with you and asked, "Ready?" The challenge in his tone was clear.

You took another deep breath, squared your shoulders, and met his gaze head-on. "Alright, Bucky. I'm game. What's the plan?" Your voice remained steady, even as your nerves continued to buzz beneath the surface.

Bucky's lips curved into a smirk. He motioned towards the training mats, his movements smooth and practiced. "Just try to land a hit on me."

Without a moment's warning, he lunged at you, his attack swift and precise. You barely managed to block it in time, the impact sending a jolt through your arms.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, you felt a sting to your pride. "Just one hit?" you questioned, a mixture of disbelief and defiance in your voice. Did he genuinely doubt your abilities? Determination flared in your eyes as you prepared to prove him wrong.

He chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Don't get ahead of yourself, doll. Come on, you're starting to bore me." You gritted your teeth and launched into your counterattack.

The atmosphere in the training room grew tense as you continued your attempts to land a hit on Bucky. Each time you launched an attack, he seemed to anticipate your every move, effortlessly blocking your punches and kicks. It was as if he had an innate ability to read your intentions, and it left you feeling frustrated and somewhat helpless.

With each failed attempt, Bucky's smirk grew wider, and he let out a low chuckle. "Come on, Y/N," he taunted, his tone dripping with playful mockery. "You've got to do better than that if you want to stand a chance."

His words stung, and they fueled your determination. You were well aware that Bucky was pushing your buttons, trying to rile you up, but you refused to let it show. You had a point to prove, not only to him but to yourself as well.

You decided to take another shot, launching into a new round of attacks, hoping to catch Bucky off guard. But just like before, he expertly caught your wrist each time, preventing your strikes from connecting. Frustration gnawed at you, and you let out an audible groan each time he effortlessly pinned your arms behind your back and pushed you back.

Bucky didn't hold back with his taunts either. "Is that the best you've got, doll?" he prodded, his gaze locked onto yours. "I've seen other recruits do better. What happened to all those praises they were singing about you?"

Taking a deep breath, you tried to surprise him with a sudden kick, but Bucky saw through your move. He even managed to catch your legs mid-kick, causing you to lose your balance and tumble to the ground.

His voice dripped with mock disappointment as he quipped, "Doll, I expected better than that. That was just plain bad."

You took a deep breath, frustration fueling your determination. This time, you decided to go all out. You lunged at him with full force, no holding back, hoping to land a solid hit. His dodge and blocks were frustratingly precise, but you didn't give in.

Finally, you managed to back him into a wall, and you saw an opening. You went for a powerful kick, but he swiftly caught your leg, pulling it towards him. Before you knew it, you were pinned against the wall, your front pressed firmly against the hard surface.

"Doll, nice try," Bucky said, his tone edged with approval, "but you've still got long ways to go."

You groaned as he pinned you to the wall, frustrated since you couldn't beat him. "Fuck!"

He chuckled lowly, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body, his face mere inches from yours. "Language, sweetheart."

The feeling of his body pressed against yours sent tingles down your spine, and you tried to keep your breathing under control, your cheeks flushing.

Bucky seemed to notice your blush and couldn't resist a teasing remark. He leaned in even closer, his voice dripping with playful mischief. “What's the matter, doll? Is it too hot in here?" he teased, pressing himself closer to you.

Your blush deepened as he teased you, and you turned your head away from him, not able to meet his gaze. "You know what? You're seriously annoying."

Bucky's smile only grew wider, and he didn't let up. "Aw, come on, doll. Getting all worked up because you can't keep up?" he goaded, his warm breath tickling your neck. His face was even closer now, his eyes dark with a look you'd never seen before.

You huffed in exasperation, determined not to let his teasing get the best of you. "I can keep up just fine, thank you very much," you shot back, your competitive spirit coming to the forefront.

Bucky chuckled, the sound low and deep, sending a delightful shiver down your spine. "Well then," he challenged, his tone inviting. "Prove it. Try to break free from my hold."

Your breath caught in your throat at the suggestion, a rush of adrenaline surging through your veins. "Okay," you agreed, your tone confident. You decided to take Bucky's challenge head-on.

With a swift and calculated move, you attempted to break free from his hold, using all the skills you had acquired during your training with the Avengers. Bucky, ever the skilled fighter, didn't make it easy, but you were determined not to give in.

You tried and tried, but you couldn't seem to break free from his strong hold. You were both sweating, the effort causing the air around you to grow thicker and heavier. You could feel his chest pressed against your body, muscles flexing as he maintained the firm grip he had on you.

Finally, after what felt like hours, you were both breathing heavily, neither of you willing to give in. In that moment, with your bodies pressed together and the heat between you almost unbearable, something changed. You felt his hold on you loosen slightly, and you took the opportunity to spin around, pinning him to the wall.

A surprised chuckle escaped his lips, clearly caught off guard by your sudden move. His eyes, filled with desire, locked onto yours, and the tension between you seemed to reach a boiling point.

You couldn't help but smirk as you managed to gain the upper hand, "Huh, I wi-" But before you could finish, he swiftly turned the tables, pinning you back against the wall.

He chuckled, his voice low and husky. "Not quite, doll." He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "Never let your guard down until you know your opponent is truly defeated," he whispered, his voice low.

You gasped, feeling the cool metal of his arm pressing against your skin. "You were saying?" he murmured, his voice low and husky. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear.

You bit your lip, feeling the tension between you reach a fever pitch. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "Never let your guard down until you know your opponent is truly defeated," he whispered, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

Your frustration bubbled up, and you couldn't help but shake your head in response. "That's not fair!" you protested, your voice tinged with exasperation. "I managed to break free from your hold. Doesn't that count for something?"

He chuckled, "Not it doesn't. You've still got a lot to learn. I could've easily gotten the upper hand on you again. The moment you let your guard down is the moment you lose the fight."

You clenched your jaw and stared into his blue eyes, not backing down from his challenge. "Okay enough with the taunting. I'm not afraid of you, Barnes."

His lips were so close, you could feel his breath against your skin. "You should be, doll," he murmured, his voice low and husky, sending a delicious shiver down your spine.

A moment passed between the two of you, and then, as if a dam had broken, he kissed you hard, it made you surprised, you gasped on his mouth and felt his tongue exploring you.

Your heart was pounding, the excitement building as you kissed him back. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as the heat between you grew.

"God, Y/N," he groaned against your mouth. His metal hand reached for your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly, wrapping your legs around his waist. He pressed you harder against the wall, his hips grinding against yours. You moaned at the friction, feeling your body responding to his touch.

The training room was forgotten as the two of you gave in to your desires, the heat between you driving you both wild. You knew it was a bad idea, but in that moment, you didn't care. All that mattered was the pleasure, the heat, the intensity of it all.

"Bucky..." You panted, feeling his lips and teeth exploring your neck, his tongue licking you, tasting you.

The sound of his name on your lips sent him over the edge, and he couldn't hold back anymore. His hands found their way under your yoga pants, gripping your ass. He bit down on your lip, drawing a small moan from you. You could feel him smile into the kiss.

"Fuck, doll. You like this? Me fucking you against the wall?" he groaned against your mouth.

You nodded, unable to form any coherent words. “Tell me, do you want more?"

"Yes," you breathed, your body trembling with need.

"Tell me," he ordered, his voice husky with desire.

"I want you, Bucky…. please."

"Beg for it," he growled, his hands moving to the front of your yoga pants. He tugged them down, the cold air hitting your wet core, his hand quickly finding its way between your thighs. You arched into his touch, desperate for more.

"Fuck, doll," he muttered, his fingers slipping into your panties, finding your wetness. "So fucking wet for me.” His fingers slid inside you, making you gasp, your hips bucking against him. "Is this what you want, doll?"

"Yes!" you cried out, your hands grasping at his shirt, trying to pull him closer. "Please," you moaned, your hips bucking against his.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit, making you writhe and moan beneath him. "Such a good girl," he murmured, his free hand coming up to grip your breast. He groped you hard, squeezing and massaging you through your sports bra.

"Put your hands up," he commanded, pulling his fingers out of you. You complied, your hands reaching above your head. He pulled up your bra, exposing your breasts to him.

"Such a pretty little thing," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. He took one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud. You moaned, your hips bucking against him as he sucked and nibbled on your breasts.

"So responsive," he chuckled, his hand reaching between your legs once again, his fingers dipping into your wetness. "Such a wet little girl. You're dripping for me."

"You like this?" He growled, his fingers rubbing your clit, his thumb sliding up and down your slick folds. He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine, "Tell me were you already wet when we started sparring? Did you want me to pin you against the wall? To fuck you hard?"

You couldn't respond, the pleasure was too much. You were teetering on the edge, ready to fall over at any moment. "Please, Bucky..." you gasped, your hips grinding against his hand, desperately seeking release.

"You're a naughty girl, aren't you? You want me to fuck you, right here, in the training room, where anyone could walk in and see us?"

He was right, you didn't even think of that possibility. You shook your head, "No.. of course not... it's just the heat of the moment... It's just... we're alone right now."

"You sure about that, doll? Cause I'm pretty sure I heard someone walk by a few minutes ago. What if it was Clint? Or worse, what if it was Fury? I bet he would love to see this. His little protégé, getting fucked by the Winter Soldier."

You froze, your eyes wide.

"You know what?" He chuckled, "Let's put on a show for them. Let them watch. Let them see how you beg and scream for me."

“Cat’s got your tongue doll? Where are all the firey comebacks now? Nothing to say?” Your mind was in a state of shock. You tried to think, who was it? But Bucky was stroking you at a relentless pace, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit.  

"You want me to make you cum, doll? To make you scream my name?"

"Yes," you panted, you didn’t care anymore, all you wanted was release. Your body trembling as he drove you closer to the edge.

He reached up, gripping your chin, his eyes locking onto yours. "I've wanted to fuck your attitude out of you ever since you came to the compound, doll,” he said, his voice husky with lust. "Watching you fight, all that fire, all that passion, it makes me so fucking hard. You have no idea how many times I've wanted to take you right here, to show you who's in control."

You couldn't take it anymore, the pleasure building, "I'm so close... Bucky," you moaned. You were so close, and he was taking you to new heights. You couldn't stop yourself, you could feel yourself losing control.

"Yeah I can tell, you're tightening around my fingers. Are you going to be a good girl and cum for me? Beg for it, and maybe I'll let you," he teased, his fingers still pumping in and out of you, faster and faster, sending you over the edge.

"Please, Bucky..." you cried, your hips bucking against his hand.

He pulled his fingers out of you, and you whined in frustration. "What the hell, Barnes?”

"Now, now," he tsked, his fingers trailing down your stomach, and stopping at your hip. "You don't get to come until I say so, doll," he ordered, his voice low and dangerous.

"But, please, I'm so close," you begged, the frustration almost unbearable.

"I know, but you need to learn who's in charge, and it's not you," he said, his fingers tracing circles around your clit, making you moan. "You have to obey my orders, Y/N."

"What the fuck, Barnes!" You screamed at him feeling angry at how he toyed with you. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

He grabbed your hair and pulled it down making you winched in pain, "What did you fucking say to me?" He grabbed it harder when you didn’t answer him.

"Ouch." You winced in pain.

Bucky's eyes darkened and he tightened his grip. “First, you need to watch that mouth of yours." He was breathing heavily, his voice rough and commanding. "Or I'm going to shove my dick in it and put you in your place." he warned, his hand moving to grip your hair, forcing you to look up at him.

You gulped down at his threat. There was no mistaking the promise in his voice, but your pussy clenched at the thought of taking him into your mouth.  

"Second," he continued, his grip loosening slightly. "You need to learn that you don't get to question my orders, doll. You're going to be a good girl and listen."

You stared at him, unable to speak. He was serious.

"Answer me Y/N or I will leave you here, frustrated and wanting more," He threatened.

You could feel the heat pooling in your belly, his dominance and authority turning you on even more.

"Yes please, I'll obey," you said, your voice shaking slightly.

"Good girl, that’s more like it," he murmured, his metal hand coming up to caress your cheek. Bucky leaned closer and kissed your lips, his tongue sliding inside your mouth. He was sucking on your tongue and nibbling on your lips, his teeth digging into the soft flesh of your mouth. He kissed your cheek and moved down to your neck.

"Now, where are we?" He asked, his fingers back on your clit, rubbing in slow, agonizing circles. He was torturing you, teasing you.

He smiled wickedly, his hand moving from your clit and slipping inside you. He pushed two fingers inside your core and began pumping them. He started moving his hand faster and faster, the sound of his fingers sliding in and out filling the air.

You wanted to scream and yell at him, but you were unable to speak, the pleasure and the need for release overwhelming. You were panting and moaning, your eyes closed shut as you were trying not to come.

"Not yet." he growled. He pushed a third fingers inside your core and began pumping them. He started moving his hand faster and faster, the sound of his fingers sliding in and out filling the air.

"Beg," he commanded, his voice firm.

"Please, please, please, Bucky," you whimpered.

"Louder," he ordered.

"Please!" you whimpered, the desire and need taking over. "Please, Bucky, fuck my pussy and let me come," you begged. You felt your inside tightening, you need to come right now.

Bucky leaned closer and kissed you again, his tongue pushing its way into your mouth, exploring every inch. He moaned into your mouth, his fingers still pumping into you, his thumb circling your clit. "No," he said, and your eyes snapped open, meeting his blue ones. He smirked, seeing that you were close. "If you come before I tell you, I will punish you, doll."

Your eyes widened and your whole body shook with fear.

"Do you understand?" He asked, his fingers slowly pumping inside you.

"Yes, yes, I understand."

He chuckled, "You're a needy little slut, aren't you? You'd beg for my cock too, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," you moaned, the word falling from your lips without a second thought. "Please, Bucky, I need to come. I need your cock inside me, fucking me hard and fast," you begged, the words tumbling from your lips.

"That's a good girl," he murmured, his fingers picking up their pace. "You're gonna cum for me now, doll. You're gonna cum all over my fingers, and then, when you've recovered, you're gonna get on your knees and suck my cock. And when I'm ready, I'm gonna fuck you, and I'm gonna make you scream my name."

You moaned loudly as his fingers brought you closer to the edge, his words sending a thrill through you.

"You'd like that wouldn't you, doll? Having my cock buried deep inside you, fucking you senseless?"

"Yes, yes, yes," you panted, the pleasure building. He added another finger and curled them inside you, hitting your g-spot, and you gasped.

"That's it, Y/N," he groaned, his fingers moving faster. "Come for me. Let me hear you."

"I... I'm gonna..." you moaned, the pleasure building in your body. You couldn't hold back any longer, the pleasure overwhelming you,

"Come now!," he ordered his fingers working even faster, and suddenly, you exploded.

"BUCKY!" You screamed, your body shaking violently as waves of pleasure washed over you. Your body was trembling, and your juices were flowing freely down his fingers

"Such a good girl," he praised, his fingers slowing, drawing out the last of your orgasm, licking them clean. “Delicious," he murmured.

You panted, your body still shaking from the intensity of the orgasm. He lowered you to the floor, your legs shaky from the intense pleasure.

Bucky chuckled, seeing the confusion on your face. "Don't worry, doll," he said, leaning down and kissing you. "We're just getting started."

"On your knees," he commanded, his voice husky with desire.

Your knees trembled and you looked up at him. His eyes were dark, his pupils dilated with lust. You could see his cock straining against the fabric of his pants. You did as you were told, dropping to your knees. You looked up at him, your eyes locking onto his.

"Open your mouth," he ordered, and you obeyed. "Suck my cock." His voice firm and authoritative

Your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you watched him slowly unzip his pants, his thick, hard cock springing free. You stared at him for a moment, taking in the sight of him. The serum must did something to him, as his member was definitely bigger than any man you'd seen before.

"Now," he ordered, his voice low and commanding. "Don't be shy," he coaxed, his eyes dark with lust.

You slowly reached up and grasped his thick shaft in your hand, feeling the hot, smooth skin, marveling at the size of him. You felt a jolt of excitement run through your body as you stroked his length, feeling him twitch in your hand. You could feel yourself growing wet as you continued to stroke his cock, his member growing even harder under your touch.

His fingers tangling in your hair  "Now, put my cock in your pretty mouth, doll," he said, his voice thick with desire.

You lowered your head and opened your mouth, wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock. You licked the tip of his cock, swirling your tongue around it, tasting his salty pre-cum. He groaned, his hips bucking as you took more of his cock into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down.

You hummed around him, the vibration making him moan. His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling at the roots as you worked your mouth up and down his shaft, his cock hitting the back of your throat.

You felt a surge of pleasure run through your body as you sucked his cock, loving the taste and feel of him in your mouth. You could feel his grip tightening on your hair as you continued to suck him, your tongue dancing along his length.

You didn't have any practice beforehand, but you are naturally gifted hearing praises, such as "Mmm, that's it.”, "Just like that.", “Fuck, you are good.” and the way his thighs trembled beside your ears were a tell-tale sign that you were doing great.

"You look so good like this," he moaned, his hand holding onto the back of your head, guiding your mouth over his cock. "I've imagined you sucking me off before."

His words made you moan around him, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body.

"You're taking my cock so well, like you were made for it."

You whimpered around him, his cock hitting the back of your throat once again. The feeling of his cock throbbing in your mouth, the taste of him, and the way he praised you were pushing you closer to the edge.

"God, your mouth feels so fucking good," he moaned, his hips thrusting as he fucked your mouth. "Such a good little slut, aren't you, doll?"

You felt your pussy clench at his words, your arousal growing with every stroke of his cock. You bobbed your head faster, taking him deeper into your mouth, loving the sounds of his moans.

His fingers tugged at your hair, the pain and pleasure mixing together to send another rush of pleasure through your body. You moaned around him, the sound vibrating through his cock, causing him to thrust deeper into your mouth.

You whimpered, your eyes watering as he pounded into your mouth. You could barely breathe, his thick cock stretching your throat as he fucked your mouth. Your pussy throbbed, your arousal coating your thighs as he mouth-fucked you.

"Oh yeah, you love this, don't you?" He groaned. "You love choking on my cock." As he thrust his cock into your mouth, his hands travelled to your breast, squeezing them hard, making you moan.

He groaned as you continued to suck, his grip on your hair tightening, the pain sending another wave of pleasure through your body. He was fucking your mouth ruthless, the wet slurping sounds were the only sound in the room. And the sounds he was making was almost enough to make you cum.

It became harder to breath with each stroke of his cock meeting the back of your throat, tears pricked in the corners of your eyes, the pain and pleasure mixing together.

He looked down at you, the sight of your mouth around his cock was almost enough to make him cum. He pulled out of your mouth with a loud pop, leaving you gasping for breath and tears running down your face.

"Look at you, what a mess you are," he smirked, his eyes raking over your body. "You're such a dirty girl, aren't you?"

You felt your face flush, his words making your pussy ache with need. You whimpered, the need to be filled by his cock becoming unbearable.

"Do you want me to fuck you, doll? Do you want me to fuck you so hard, you can't walk tomorrow?"

You moaned, your body trembling with anticipation. "Yes, please," you begged, your voice hoarse. "Please, fuck me, Bucky." You couldn’t think straight, you had no filter, you were just saying whatever came to mind.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your head back. "Say it," he growled, his eyes dark and dangerous.

"Please, Bucky," you said, your voice pleading.

"Try better than that," he said, his voice firm.

"Please fuck me, Sergeant," you whimpered, your voice laced with desperation. "Please fuck me hard and fast until I can't walk. Please use me however you want."

He smiled wickedly. "Your words, not mine. Be careful for what you wish for, doll."

He shoved you onto the floor, his body looming over you. "On the floor. On all fours now," he ordered, his voice stern and commanding.

You scrambled to comply, getting onto your hands and knees. Your heart racing as he positioned himself behind you.

"Spread your legs," he said, and you complied.

He knelt behind you, his hands roaming over your body, caressing your skin. You could feel his hands on your hips, his cock rubbing against your wetness.

"Do you have any idea what I'm going to do to you, Y/N?" He whispered, his voice low and husky.

You stayed quiet waiting for him. "I'm gonna make you scream and beg for me, I'm gonna make you forget everything, except my name."

His words sent a shiver through your body, his tone full of dominance and power.

"And when I'm done with you, you'll never forget me, Y/N. You'll always remember me, remember the way I made you feel."

You could feel his hardness pressing against your entrance, teasing you, tormenting you. His hands running over your ass. "But I'm not gonna go easy on you. You understand?"

"Yes," you moaned, your voice breathy. "I understand."

"Good girl," he said, and with that, he pushed his cock inside of you, filling you completely. You cried out, your body quivering as he stretched you. "Such a tight little cunt," he groaned, his hips snapping against you, his cock buried deep inside of you. "So fucking perfect."

You cried out, the pain and pleasure mixing together.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he grunted, his hands gripping your hips tightly. He started to move, his pace slow and steady, his cock stretching you with each thrust.

"Oh god," you moaned, your voice echoing in the room.

"You like that, Y/N?" As he slammed his cock into you, his voice full of lust.

"Yes," you moaned, the sensation driving you wild.

"That's right, doll, take my cock," he growled, his fingers digging into your hips. "Take all of it." He was rough, his pace fast and unforgiving, his cock filling you to the brim with every thrust. You cried out, the pleasure and pain mingling into a sweet symphony.

You moaned, your body shaking as he fucked you. He was pounding into you, his cock hitting all the right spots. Your body was on fire, your mind lost in a haze of lust and desire. "Who's pussy is this?," He asked.

"It's yours," you gasped, your body trembling.

"Say it again," he commanded, his thrusts growing faster and harder.

"It's yours," you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Fucking right it is," he growled, his voice low and husky.

He was pounding into you, his pace relentless. The room filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the smell of sex hanging heavy in the air.

He yanked your hair, forcing your head back and you whimpered. He kissed you, his tongue invading your mouth. His teeth dug into your bottom lip, making you moan.

"Who's a dirty little slut?" He demanded, his hips slapping against yours.

"Me," you gasped, the pleasure threatening to overwhelm you. "I'm a dirty little slut, Bucky."

"That's right," he growled, his grip on your hair tightening. "You're my dirty little slut, and I'm gonna fucking ruin you. You’re fucking mine."

Your body trembled, your muscles tensing as his cock slammed into you. You could feel the pleasure building, the pressure mounting inside of you. You were so close, and you needed him to finish you off. "Oh god, I’m so close," you begged, your voice desperate and needy.

"Not yet," he snarled, his grip on your hair tightening. "You'll cum when I say so, and not a moment before."

"Please," you begged, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable. "Please let me cum, Bucky."

"Soon, doll," he promised, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "Very soon." He knew you almost came and he decided to torture you further when his fingers finding your clit and he pressed down hard.

You cried out, the pleasure and pain becoming too much. "Oh god," you whimpered, your body trembling. "Please, I can't take it."

He slammed his cock into you, his balls slapping against your clit. "Yes, you can," he growled. "And you will."

You whimpered, the pressure inside of you reaching a breaking point. "Bucky, please please please," you begged, the pleasure threatening to consume you.

"Now," he commanded, his voice harsh and commanding. "Cum for me, doll."

You cried out, the pleasure exploding throughout your body. Your walls clenched around his cock, your muscles spasming. Your mind went blank, the world around you fading away. Your body was shaking uncontrollably as he fucked you through your orgasm, his hips snapping against you, his cock pounding into you.

You were exhausted, your body drained of energy. He continued to fuck you, his pace slowing slightly.

He slapped your ass, the sting of his hand sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. "Such a good little slut," he growled, his hips slamming against yours. "Taking my cock so well."

"Bucky," you moaned, the pleasure building once again. "Please, I can't take anymore."

"Yes, you can," he said, his voice low and husky. He slapped your ass again, harder this time. "You're going to cum for me again, doll."

"No," you protested weakly, your body trembling with exhaustion.

“Yes," he growled, his thrusts becoming more intense. "You will." His metal hand sliding up your stomach, between your breasts, and around your throat.

Your body arched, pushing your hips further onto his cock. The sound of his ragged breaths mixed with yours as you both raced towards your climaxes. "I'm close, Y/N. So fucking close."

His hands pinched your nipples, sending another shock of pleasure through your body. He sucked on them, the sensation almost too much for you. You whimpered, his lips capturing yours again. Your tongues swirled around each other, tasting, devouring.

His cock slid in and out of you, his pace quickening. His moans and growls echoed around you as his orgasm neared. He was so close. So was you.

"Please, Bucky," you begged, your pussy clenching around his length.

He tightened his grip on your throat and slammed his hips into yours. His free hand slid down to your clit, his thumb rubbing circles over it. His eyes meeting yours. his hips slapping against yours, his cock hitting all the right spots.

"Cum with me, doll. Don't close your eyes. I want to see those pretty eyes as you come apart."

Your entire body shuddered, his command sending you over the edge. Your walls fluttered around his length, milking him of his seed. Your body trembled, your muscles spasming as you rode out the waves of ecstasy. His breath becoming ragged as his own release neared.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hips slapping against you. "Your cunt is so fucking perfect."

"God, yes," you moaned, the pleasure threatening to overwhelm you.

He slammed into you, his pace becoming erratic as he neared his release. "Oh god," he moaned, his hips snapping against yours. "I'm gonna cum."

"Yes, Bucky. Cum inside me," you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Your words were enough to send him over the edge.

He growled, his grip on your hair tightening as he pounded into you, his cock filling you completely. He groaned as he cum, his body shuddering as his release washed over him.

"That's right," he groaned, his body going limp. "Take all of it." You felt him twitch inside of you, his hot release spilling into you.

You slumped forward, your body spent as it slick with sweat and cum.  You could hear Bucky panting behind you, his chest heaving. You rested your forehead against the floor, trying to catch your breath. You had never been fucked so thoroughly in your life. Your muscles were sore and tired, your pussy throbbing.

Bucky was still inside of you, his cock softening. He pulled out, his cum spilling out of you. You could feel his cum leaking from your pussy, dripping down your thighs. "Look at that," he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Such a pretty sight." He slid a finger between your folds, collecting the sticky mess, then he pushed it back inside you. You let out a small whimper as he slowly pumped it in and out.

Bucky turned you around, your head falling back against the floor. His face hovered above yours, his blue eyes burning with lust. He looked down at you, before he could say anything, you both heard footsteps approaching.

You were panicking as someone could see you in such state, strangely, Bucky seemed unfazed, his expression steady despite the unexpected interruption. Then the next thing made your heart skipped as you heard the doorknob turning. You could only pray the ground to swallow you whole.

Hey everyone, I hope you enjoyed the story! Apologies if the ending didn't meet your expectations, I'm considering a Part 2, but I'd love to hear your thoughts. I'm open to any feedback for improvement. Your input means a lot.

If you want to see more, please show your support by leaving a like. Thank you for taking the time to read!

A/N : Thank you so much for the kind replies and support! I'm really glad you enjoy the story, you have no idea how much that motivate me to continue writing. Please stay tune for part 2! Love youuuu xx

[sweet-s0rr0w]

Welcome to the third edition of my annual collaborative Drarry sex scene reclist, featuring even more favourite smutty scenes and fics selected by Drarry writers, artists, reccers, and fans! A huge thank you to this year's contributors, @apricitydays-lazynights, @arminaa8, @drarrymyheart, @drarryspecificrecs, @elskanellis, @hoko-onchi-writes, @jtimu, @littlewinnow, @maesterchill, @mallstars, @myrtlefics, @oflights, @peachydreamxx, @pl0tty, @rainstormradish, @sitp-recs, @starquestingfordrarry, @tackytigerfic, @thecouchsofa, and @thedrarrylibrarian!

Please mind the tags and practice DLDR as unsurprisingly these fics feature a wide variety of kinks and some are dub/non-con. Don’t forget to leave kudos!

All Drarry unless a poly ship specified!

2022 Reclist / 2023 Reclist

Under 10k

Again and More So by peu_a_peu (E, 3.1k)

Control, Freely Given by jtimu (E, 3.8k)

Double or Nothing by jtimu (E, 2.5k)

Friends At Last by @letteredlettered (E, 8.7k)

Full by @moonflower-rose (E, 2.7k)

Glamours That Don't Fade by WouldItWere (E, 8.8k)

I've Got a Beautiful Feeling (Everything's Going My Way) by @toomuchplor (E, 3.6k)

jerk/off by @oknowkiss (E, 7.2k)

November Flush by @thecouchsofa (E, 5.3k)

of course i cum fast, i've got a snitch to catch by @swoontodeath (E, 7.6k)

On Display by @lqtraintracks (E, 396 words)

Scent and Sensibility by @aidaninkling (E, 7.5k)

The Roommates by @citrusses (E, 3.7k)

Team Building for Dummies by InnerLilith (E, 7k)

10-20k

A Saviour’s Guide to Manners and Decorum by @wolfpants (E, 13k)

Celestial (paint me like one of your starscapes) by thecouchsofa (E, 31k)

Good Boy by lqtraintracks (E, 15k)

Löyly by citrusses (E, 10k)

Power Bottom by @cassiopeiasshadow (E, 17k)

Silhouettes by sweet_s0rr0w (E, 17k, Draco/Harry/Ron)

Strange Entanglements (the particles of us) by StarQuesting (E, 15k)

What’s Mine is Yours by @fluxweeed (E, 17k)

Wield Me by @tackytigerfic (E, 10k)

20-50k

Blood and Fire by lqtraintracks (E, 45k) chapter 1, the dresser scene

Dirty Little Secret by @writcraft (E, 22k)

The Four Ds of Apparition (or: Destination, Determination, Deliberation, and Dicks) by @firethesound and @eidheann (E, 37k)

Higher and Higher (Temptation) by birdsofshore (E, 28k)

LA, Who Am I To Love You? by @epitomereally (E, 43k) chapter 4

Ligabus Filium by tessacrowley (E, 42k)

Our Objective Remains Unchanged by citrusses (E, 46k) chapter 7

Now I Know In Part by @dodgerkedavra (E, 40k)

Some Nights by thecouchsofa (E, 24k, Draco/Harry/Ron)

Waking Up Slow by sweet_s0rr0w (E, 22k)

Over 50k

Grounds for Divorce by tepre (E, 122k) chapter 7 and chapter 8

Heartlines by @shiftylinguini (E, 73k)

Licurici by @lou-isfake (E, 133k, Draco/Harry/Charlie)

Nights With You by @the-sinking-ship (E, 58k)

Only for October by dodgerkedavra (E, 54k)

Probationary Action by toomuchplor (E, 63k)

The Rewards of Being Loved by lou-isfake (E, 161k)

Rookie Moves by peu_a_peu (E, 75k)

Servile by @wellhalesbells (E, 69k)

WHISKY-TANGO-FOXTROT by @vukovich (E, 59k)

[domesticandlovingmonsters]

Pick Your Romance Starter- Dark Fae Addition

Plot/Story: Oh no, you've fallen into the Fae Realm through a circle of mushrooms. How convenient, I mean inconvenient! And look, there's some hot Fae men wanting you're attention...how so very clique. But they're not all flowers and sunshine. That would be too damn easy, wouldn't it?

Warnings: Dark Fae, slight non-con touch, blood, 10k words

Notes: The dry-spell has finally worn off and I present to you a little morsel of writing.

Poll is 'here' (Patreon) and here (Tumblr)to choose which character is written for first!

Poll has been finished! Hezirus got the pick. Here is another poll to choose what type of spicey story you want with him.

This is all based on a world built together with a friend. The characters are OCs of mine we play with and use in our stories together. And for your amusement, and torture for my friend, I have started a series where you pick which one I write for first.

This will be a heavy female x male character story. I apologize to my MxM and FxF readers. But I do plan on making these three fuck eventually. Just because it's fun. 

And by all means, give me ideas and feedback. I crave the attention!

Enjoy!

The sharp iron-like smell filled your senses and you felt yourself falling. The warm night air turned bitterly cold and the light from the street disappeared into a wall of black. You blinked. The wind whooshing around you was as loud as a hurricane; before your feet slammed onto stone and you stumbled into something hard and cold. And everything went unnaturally quiet.

You opened your eyes. Blinking rapidly to remove the haziness from your vision as you reached out, calling for your friend. It was dark. Too dark for your eyes just yet.

Your fingers found the cold bars of something circling you. Your hand followed it until you pushed away and stood on your own two feet. Swaying a little, the alcohol still affected your body even as the adrenaline coursed through you.

Finally, after some more blinking and squinting into the dark, your eyes adjusted. And horror filled your stomach as you looked around you.

You were in a cage. An iron cage in the center of a dark room. The floor, the pillars, the walls, all made from gray, smoothed stone. Dust layered the ground like a blanket around your small prison. And thick, but empty, cobwebs lined the corners of the room.

It didn’t look like anyone had been in here for…a very long time.

Your eyes caught the faintest touch of blue light on the floor and you looked down. Finding a glowing ring of sigils carved into the floor, fully encircling your cage. And everytime you moved, the strange letters pulsed with energy and that sharp smell filled your nose once more.

Something in you whispered that it was the same diameter of the mushroom circle you had jumped into… And with that thought, horror filled you. It had happened. It actually…worked. But not in the way you expected.

You don’t know how long you stood in that cage for, calling out into the darkness. It was long enough that the effects of tonight's drinks had worn off and the feeling of dehydration was starting to kick in.

The cold of the room settled on your skin like ice. And you tried to huddle up as much as you could, trying to preserve as much body heat as possible. But the cold iron and the freezing stone was sapping away at your warmth like a hungry beast.

Eventually, just as you started to think you’d be in this dark room forever, a door opened. One you didn’t see at the far end of the room that spilled bright, warm sunlight into the shadows. Making the twilight scatter and your eyes hurt from the blinding rays.

“Well, well, well, I thought all my little traps had been sealed off.” A velvety voice echoed from the doorway. The very sound settled on your skin like the breeze of an autumn afternoon. “What a surprise, indeed.”

Something shifted to your right but when you looked, only darkness stared back. Hiding behind a stone pillar, escaping the bright morning light.

You blinked until the sunlight stopped blinding you and the stranger approached. His boots echoed in the empty room as he closed the distance. His face silhouetted by the soft glow of the blue circle at his feet.

He was handsome. Very handsome. The type of handsome you would take a second glance at because you weren’t sure if your brain properly processed his face. His hair was a slight mess, a dark but silky tangle of blonde and deep brown. Matching a gaze that was fixed, but curious. And you felt every inch of your skin alight with a cold fire when those copper coloured eyes raked over your body. Not an inch of you was left untouched by his gaze. And it left you a little breathless when he smiled.

But your mind was racing. A voice deep within your mind was telling you to run. To hide. Get away from this man and never look back.

“What’s your name, sweet thing?” The man asked. The softest curl of a smirk twitching the corner of his lips.

But you didn’t give it. You weren’t stupid. And you remembered what happened. You jumped into a ring of mushrooms and suddenly you were falling. Even if you could blame this on a drunken dream, you still didn’t give this man your name.

When you didn’t reply, the smirk stretched fully across the stranger's face. “Ah, so you’re smart. That’s cute. I haven’t had a smart one in a long time. Come along, then. Let’s get you cleaned up. You’re exactly what I need to make up for my little blunder last night.”

The cage groaned around you and three of the metal bars slid into the ground. Allowing you a doorway to step out of your small prison and into the stream of light from the door.

The stranger didn’t look at you as he led the way out of the cold stone room. But still addressed you as you stepped out into the light. “My apologies for leaving you in that cold room all night. We had a little…accident, and I was busy until this morning.”

The man led you into a long corridor of more stone. Though the temperature was vastly more welcoming than the room, it was just as empty and just as dusty. You passed many doors like the one from where you landed. Some were left open, revealing more empty areas with a single cage. Others were closed but something dark marked the metal entryway. It looked suspiciously like old blood.

If this stranger saw you staring, he didn’t give any move to answer your unspoken questions. He led you up a spiraling staircase and a door of heavy carved wood and granite, creaked open before he touched it. Opening up into a sprawling room of many desks and shelves and cabinets.

“Clean her.” The stranger said. And from beneath the desks, dark tendrils launched towards you. Black, clawed hands wrapped around your wrists and ankles. Icy cold fingers latched onto your throat, squeezing just enough to silence the scream of fright from your lungs. Iron strength yanked you forward, making your attempts at fleeing fruitless as you were dragged towards a large basin.

More arms of shadows rose from the stone floor and you watched as steaming hot water was poured into the tub. Buckets of water manifesting from darkness and then disappearing when dropped to the floor.

You didn’t get to take a breath before you were lifted and then dumped into the basin. Hot water burned your skin and drenched your clothes. You gasped for air, but a cold hand slammed your head back under the water and you felt harsh bristles scrape over your bare skin. Something sweet smelling poured onto your hair as your head was yanked back out of the water for a brief moment

You coughed and spluttered, barely getting a breath in before you were dunked back into the water.

Your clothes were torn away. Despite your best effort to keep them against your skin, the material ripped apart under the strength of these shadowy limps. You wrapped your arms around your chest, obscuring the man’s beautiful gaze from seeing too much.

His smile was too sweet. Too wide as you were finally released and you turned your back to him. Your skin burned from the brush and soap. Your hair felt silky and smelled like a field of freshly bloomed flowers. But you were completely bare in front of him.

“That’s much better.” The man said. Leaning against a desk nearby. His molten gaze took in every inch of you before he waved his hand and a shadow presented him with a dress. “Wear this. It suits you much better than…whatever else you were wearing.”

When you didn’t get out of the tub, the man sighed and rolled his eyes. Then he turned around so he was leaning against the desk with his palms on the surface of the table. “I won’t look. Go on, try it on.”

You hesitated. But already the water was starting to get cold and you couldn’t sit in here forever. Curled up and shivering. You sighed heavily and carefully slipped out of the water.

Another shadow appeared beside you with a towel. But it didn’t allow you to take it. Instead, it dried you off, harshly rubbing the soft material against your body until your skin felt sore from the material. But dry.

You grumbled a curse towards the man and snatched the dress from the floating shadow.

Surprisingly, the man kept his word and didn’t turn around. Until you were in the dress and staring down at yourself in horror.

The material was thin…extremely thin… You might as well stand in front of him naked without the gentle glimmer of the sparkly dress. And it was very tight. You could see every curve of your breasts and hips, down to your thighs before the dress spilled out around your feet like a bronze ink spill. The only saving grace to this material was that it darkened around your chest and lower center. Refusing to give a full, clean picture of your body that was hidden beneath the dress.

It didn’t stop the perked peaks of your nipples from the cold air. And the stranger hummed a low sound in his throat as he adjusted the sleeve of the dress and picked at some imaginary lint on your waist.

“Much, much better.” The man said. He started to circle you. His eyes scraped over your body as you stood frozen under his gaze. He picked at the dress and the shadows appeared with trinkets and jeweled chains. Your wrists were wrapped in silk and your neck was decorated by a thin, delicate silver chain with topaz stones resting warmly against your neck. A belt of lace loosely circled your hips and your cheeks were assaulted by a dusting of red. Giving you a small blush before cold hands grabbed your face and the man stepped closer.

His forefinger lengthened, growing a black claw that came to a dangerously pointed tip. And you tried to yank yourself away from him but the shadows held you firmly in place. You could only watch in growing horror as the dark talon descended towards your eye…and cautiously drew a line along your upper lashes. Then the man delicately did the same on the other. Giving you a perfect dark eye-liner flick.

The man then stood back. His other hand held your chin as he tilted your face back and forth, admiring the touches he did to you. The shadows relaxed when you did. And you allowed this stranger to do what he wished with your face.

“What’s your name?” You asked him. Finding this close proximity with the handsome face was filling your chest with sharp flutters. You could see the finer details. The sharp, pointed ears. The tattoos under the collar of his shirt and the dusting of gold along his face. Perhaps a decorative choice?

“Jackal Borcalas, Royal Archivist and Spy Master of the Wilds” His smile was predatory. Proud. Cocky. As if the widening of your eyes gave him a sense of smugness. “But Jackal is fine, sweet thing. And yours?”

He said it so casually you almost willingly gave it to him. Like carrying on a normal conversation. But you clapped your mouth shut and glared up at Jackal. Rewarding yourself with a laugh from the Spy Master.

“Ah, well, you can’t blame a man for trying.” Jackal said, shrugging. Then his hands moved from your face down to your body. Adjusting chains and bracelets and anything else the shadows had placed on you.

But you found his hand barely touched you. His fingers brushed over your hips but didn’t linger for too long. The pads of his fingers glossed over your perked nipples but his eyes didn’t stray any longer than they needed. His attention was too focused on his task that you doubted he even knew where he was touching.

“Gorgeous.” Jackal purred. And despite the hungry look in his eyes, you sensed the genuine compliment behind his words. Or was that just a…Fae thing to get you comfortable around him. “Now, a few things before I throw you to the wolves.”

You felt the blood drain from your face with his words. And that wicked smile returned, alongside the cold touch of shadows as they wrapped around your legs and started moving them. You felt like a doll on strings, puppeteered after Jackal as he turned and exited the room.

Your captor led you into more corridors and halls. Many stone steps and coloured glass windows that bathed you in greens and golds and bronze. You didn’t get to look around. The shadows had you transfixed on watching Jackal’s back as he walked through…wherever you were.

“If you want to live through the day, you will follow these rules to the absolute letter. Do not look directly into his eyes. He gets…crabby when you do it for too long. And keep your hands off of him unless he places them somewhere. He doesn’t like to be touched. Do not turn your back on him unless he tells you to do so, and for the love of the Moon, do not touch his horns. Just…keep your hands to yourself unless you’re ordered otherwise.” Jackal said all this while he led you towards a massive metal door. The shadows relieved their hold just enough that you could finally look around you. But your gaze was transfixed on the entrance before you.

Towering above you was a grotesque, twisted display of melted weapons and armor. Swords Maces Axes Shields Any and all kinds had been liquified against the doors. You spotted helmets and chest plates carved through with spears. All dented, all worn, from battle.

“Oh, and also, for my later entertainment, keep yourself alive.” Jackal whispered, looking over your shoulder at him. “We haven’t had a human here in…centuries. So try to make your stay last a little longer than a few minutes.”

With a wave of Jackal’s hand, the war-torn doors opened with an ear-clawing sound of metal on the stone floor.

A blast of heat slammed into you as a voice as deep as thunder growled from within a dimly lit room. “What do you want, snake?” Your very bones vibrated with the voice. And a knot of fear coiled in your stomach as Jackal entered the room.

The shadows had you follow him and you entered a room that was more like a throne room. It was a vast space of furs and blankets. Blazing fires were cradled in braziers along the walls and candles flickered on hanging chandeliers made of bone and skulls. The scent of sulfur and burning meat filled your nose and you tried not to gag as you passed a body laying on the floor. Three deep gashes tore up the person’s back and blood pooled around their limp body. Their face twisted in agony and terror.

Jackal didn’t even look at it. He continued to stroll into the heated room towards a pile of furs and hides.

“I brought you a gift.” Jackal said. His voice echoing in the massive room. Mixing with the heavy breathing of something huge in front of you. The shadows didn’t let you go. They kept you firmly in place behind Jackal.

Something sniffed the air. And you felt the very air around you shift with each deep breath. You started shaking as the tiled floor trembled. The blast of heat came closer and closer. The heat in the room roared and you felt like your arms were being scorched by a blazing fire. Your ears popped and the tremble through the floor halted, but you heard the distinct sound of bare feet stepping over tile towards you.

And then Jackal stepped to the side and you were suddenly staring at a broad chest of muscle and scales.

The shadows released your head. Allowing you to look up, almost craning your neck all the way back, to meet a burning red gaze of a man. He was massive, much taller than 6ft and broad, rippling with muscle. Scars streaked across his arms and chest, giving a stark pale contrast to his dark complexion. A creature of war and battle.

But what was more terrifying was the plating of black scales that protruded from his dark skin. Horns swept out from atop his head. Splitting apart thick, shiny black hair that was braided amongst the crown of thick spikes. And his gaze was heavy. Watching. Calculating.

Jackal tsked harshly and you quickly dropped your eyes. Remembering what Jackal had said only moments before.

The man in front of you growled, a deep rumble that rippled through you like thunder. “A human?” A voice of stone sounded surprised. And you flinched when a massive hand wrapped around your waist, his fingers almost completely encircling your hips, and yanked you closer.

Black scales filled your vision as the man buried his nose into your hair. You felt him take a deep breath and the growl turned into something like a broken purr as the man laughed a cynical chuckle. “Is this your way of saying sorry, snake?” The scaled man snapped at Jackal. Releasing you before stalking over to the much smaller man.

Despite their size difference, and the display of bared teeth from the other man, Jackal remained perfectly calm. His hands resting behind his back as if he was having a casual conversation with someone.

“This is my way of mending my mistake.” Jackal replied slowly. “Hezirus will want her for himself. But I thought you should get some time with her before she’s claimed entirely. I thought it would be a nice…treat, Maahes, from me to you. From a friend.”

That word brought a snarl out of Maahes. Like he didn’t like how it sounded coming out of Jackal’s mouth. “Watch it, snake. You almost cost me my territory last night. A morsel won’t make up for that blunder.”

“Then let it be the start of my amendment to you.” Jackal titled his chin down in a submissive display. And whatever rage Maahes had, seemed to melt away. You felt the sharp tang of something hit your nose and suddenly the beast in front of you roared.

Claws raked through the marble pillar where Jackal had been standing moments before. Then you felt the shadows retreat and Jackal was standing in the doorway behind you. An amused smile across his lips

Maahes roared again, crimson eyes glowing with a surge of anger. “Keep your filthy magic out of my head!”

The doors slammed closed with a thunderous bang as Jackal laughed. Leaving you alone with a creature that was practically shaking with rage.

Your eyes swooped to the floor when the beast looked at you. You heard the click of claws as he approached. Two dark tree trunks entered your view and you realized he was standing right in front of you. He at least wasn’t naked, wearing a loose pair of dark trousers. But the thin dress did very little to make you feel protected at this moment.

“What is your name?” Maahes asked. You didn’t respond, cowering in front of him. The beast snarled and a rough grip wrapped around the underside of your jaw and forced you to look up at him. You kept your gaze from staring into the pools of rubies, looking at the scar that carved down his neck and to his collarbone. “I am not a Fairy, sweet morsel. I won’t use your name against you. What do I call you?”

You felt him lift you a little. Until you were standing on your tiptoes to stop him from choking you. “(y/n)” You managed to say. And the grip released you.

“Get me a drink, (y/n).” Your name rolled on his tongue like he was tasting you through those words. It sounded awfully sinful to hear it. And you quickly hurried over to the table by the dead body. Where an array of goblets and bottles were laid out. You choose the largest cup and fill it with an amber liquid. You had to carry it with both hands to ensure it didn’t spill and didn’t strain one arm too much. Hurrying back to Maahes, who had returned to lounge on the pile of furs. Which even his massive frame seemed to be swallowed by the vast mattress of pelts.

The beast rumbled. But it wasn’t an aggressive sound. You almost thought he sounded pleased as you carefully climbed onto the furs and offered him the wine. He took the cup from your hands. And as he pressed the wine to his lips, his free hand lashed out and took purchase of your hips before you attempted to step away.

You couldn’t fight him. The amount of strength beneath those fingers alone was enough to pull you towards him with barely any effort.

You found yourself flush against his side. His scales, rough and jagged, pushed painfully against your soft skin. And once you were positioned how he wanted, the hand moved down to cup your ass. His talons caught on the material of your dress as he squeezed hard. Making you wince a little.

“How did the snake manage to catch you?” Maahes asked. Placing his cup precariously on a position of the bed as he moved so he was on top of you. His nose scraped against your neck and you felt his teeth playfully pull at the silver chain around your throat. “Trapping humans was outlawed centuries ago. Did he say some pretty words and you were suddenly here? Or did you fall through a mirror?”

His words were surprisingly teasing for how rough his hands were on your body. The pads of his fingers were calloused and coarse, sweeping along your thighs before moving you so he could settle between your legs. He was massive above you. Obscuring the ceiling and bone chandeliers with his mass.

You explained what happened. Recalling the ring of mushrooms on the side of the walkway on your way home. The stupid decision to test fate and jump into the circle. Laughing, thinking nothing would come of it. And then accidentally said ‘we’ jumped in, and those crimson eyes pulsed intensely.

“There’s two of you?” Maahes asked. Glancing at the door as if Jackal was about to come through it again with another person. You said you didn’t see your friend in the cage and the man shrugged. Returning his mouth to the hollow of your neck. His lips sending goosebumps along your skin as his hot breath bathed along your chest.

It was a long moment of licking and hard nips along your neck before Maahes changed position. Burying his face against your breasts. Even through the dress, you could feel his mouth hungrily take in your left nipple and rake his tongue over the peak.

“No matter. I’ll feast on you first before I worry about someone else's pet.” You felt him shift against you and something huge and hard pressed against your clothed core. Then Maahes raised his mouth and a burning hot tongue seared along your neck, carrying the smell of wine and meat along your flesh, up to your cheek before your lips were harshly trapped between Maahes’.

Your struggling only seemed to amuse Maahes. As you tried to push him off and twist away from him. But just as he forced your lips open with his tongue, the doors to the room blasted open in a cold gust of wind. The flames around you simmered out under the gust and the chandeliers swung wildly above you.

Maahes growled and tore his mouth from yours. He poised above you like a beast protecting a kill. Thick arms caging you against the bed as the sound of his snarl ripped through you. You could feel the vibrations through your core, from where his covered bulge was firmly pressed against your core.

You turned your head, peering around Maahes’ arms to see a gorgeous man standing in the streaming sunlight. Like an angel, wings of bronze and gold framed his tall figure and a thick set of arms were crossed over his chest. Lines crinkled his perfect brow and long chocolate brown hair was kept away from his face by a gold crown of gnarled vines and flowers.

“Maahes,” The man said the beast’s name like a warning. But his tone was playful, teasing. “What have you got there?”

Maahes’ snarl crumbled into a softer sound. But he didn’t move from atop of you. His talons ripped into the furs as his hands turned to fists beside your body. “She’s mine.”

“Not anymore she isn’t.” The angel said. Stepping into the dark room, closer to the creature that was bent low over your frozen body. “I caught her scent on my way to breakfast. I don’t know how Jackal got her, but she’s a guest in my palace. I won’t have you break her on her first morning here.”

Soft, bronze eyes fell upon you and his smile softened. But those warning bells in your head were singing again. Even more so than they had with Jackal. “Give her to me, Maahes.” The man said, his wings opening a touch to make him seem so much bigger than he was. “I won’t ask again.”

The beast above you growled deep and threatening. You braced for something to happen. Another gust of wind. A fist. Claws. Something.

But then the heavy, hot weight of Maahes disappeared as he crawled off of you. And you scrambled off the bed to stand beside the winged man. Hiding behind him as his wing opened to protect you from Maahes’ heated gaze. “Good boy.” The crowned stranger said. A very careful smile placed over his lips. “Do not let me catch you playing with her again.”

Maahes’ gaze lowered to the furs. But you could see the tension in his body and the thick, throbbing vein that was protruding from his neck. He bowed. “Yes, Prince Hezirus.”

That seemed to be enough for the…prince. And he turned, his wing shifting to envelope you in a warm embrace against your back and guiding you out of the room.

The heavy doors slammed shut behind you both. And the wings of the prince moved to lazily return to his back. A different type of heat simmered in his gaze when the prince turned to you. A striking difference from the softness he offered you before. “Now, human, you will tell me how you got here. And why you’re…dressed the way you are.” Despite the quizzical tone, Prince Hezirus’ eyes were just as hungry and heavy as Jackal’s when you first got dressed. You instinctively tried to cover yourself but a narrowed glare from the person in front of you made you halt.

Your arms dropped to your sides as you explained everything. But this time, you kept the ‘we’ out of it. Only insinuating that you alone jumped into the very obvious Fae trap.

“But you know our customs,” The prince hummed. Tilting his head like how a dog did when it was intrigued by something. “You won’t give me your name. You even called the circle a trap. So…you knew what it was.”

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment. The drunken stupor of a joke was now very obviously a suicide sentence. “I didn’t think it would work.” You argued. “I was…drunk.”

“Superstition has kept your people alive longer than you’d think. You should start listening to your fable stories, there’s a reason they exist.” The prince began walking and you hurried to follow. The tall man, possibly as tall as the beast on the furs, didn’t shorten his strides to let you keep up. Instead, you had to fasten your steps to almost jog alongside him.

“Where am I?” You asked. Finally looking at your surroundings. There were large paintings that covered the towering walls. The ceiling looked like marble with many hanging candles and torches to illuminate what the sun couldn’t. Massive glass windows bathed your walk with the prince in color. But at least this time you could see the shapes of beasts and battles and fields of flowers as you passed them.

It was all very beautiful.

“You’re in the Fae Wilds. My kingdom.” The prince replied. His chin tilted up with pride as he spoke. “I am Prince Hezirus of the Wilds. Son of Queen Melusine, the Lady of the Forest. You’re in my palace in the deepest forest of our kingdom. My…holiday home, I guess you would call it.”

You stalled for a moment to peek through one of the windows. Spying the grounds of the estate that sprawled out in grassy knolls and flowing creeks that sliced through lush gardens and tumbled through the gnarled roots of mountainous trees.

There were people working in the gardens and some walked the earthy paths through the estate. Someone even started flying into the branches of a nearby tree. With wings like an insect.

A soft cough from the prince made you turn. Finding him standing by the cliff of a long stairwell that led down and into the center of the palace. You quickly hurried back to his side and started descending next to him.

“It’s beautiful.” You said. Unable to keep your eyes on one thing at a time. A man walked past you both, bowing deeply to the prince before walking briskly away. His features reminded you of a rat.

“Thank you. But you will have time to see everything soon. I want you to join me for breakfast.” The prince said. And you followed him down a corridor and into a grand hall. A long table was presented before you. Its surface was chock-full of plates and bowls of food. All steaming, like the dishes had just come out of the oven.

At the end of the table sat a beautifully crafted chair of twisted roots and vines. The cushions looked as soft as clouds and a plate of sourdough bread, bathed in eggs and bacon with a drizzle of white sauce, was sitting awaiting the prince.

Hezirus waved his hand and a chair pulled itself from the table next to the prince. And Hezirus gestured for you to sit, before he flicked his hand and the chair pushed you snugly against the table. A plate was placed in front of you by an owl-faced woman and the prince seated himself in his chair.

Leaning his cheek on his fist, propped up by his elbow on the table, he watched you curiously. “Please, eat. Enjoy.”

The smells of everything laid out in front of you was maddening. Your stomach twisted in hunger and the slight hangover that had plagued you with a headache, wished for water. But you didn’t reach for any of it. And watched the prince take his gaze off you just enough to take a bite out of his egg smothered bread slice.

“So now you start to believe in your fables?” The prince asked. An amused smile twitching his lips as he chewed. “I do not need to charm you to keep you here, lovely thing. You may eat freely. This food is not poisoned and untouched by magic. Other than what is needed to prepare certain dishes.”

You still didn’t reach for anything. Not even the water. Which sat chilled in a glass pitcher in front of you. Like it was teasing you. You shook your head. “Thank you. But I’ll skip breakfast.”

The prince’s eyes flashed gold and suddenly you were reaching for the water. You tried with all your might to stop yourself from pouring a glass, but your hands worked just like they did when the shadows had hold of you.

Puppeteered.

Helpless.

You tried to cry out as your fingers brought the glass of water to your lips. But your body defied you. And you sipped cleanly, without choking, a long draught of water down your parched throat. Once you had placed the glass down you felt your body return to your control and you stood. Almost knocking the chair over as you jerked away from the table.

“Like I said, I do not need to charm you to make you stay.” The prince said. As if you had asked about the weather. So casually glossing over what he just did. “Your tales of us are true…in some sense. But we hold more power than we allowed you to believe. Please. Eat. You look like you’re about to pass out. And I won’t tell you again. You won’t like it if I have to do it myself.”

It was true. You could feel the edge of your mind falling into a dizzy spiral. And the thought of you passing out in front of him made the hunger turn to fear. You shook your head, clearing it, and sat down before your legs gave out. And begrudgingly served yourself some pancakes.

And it was the best thing you’ve ever eaten. Whether it was because of hunger, or the Fae chefs, it was delicious. Even the fruit you ate was sweet and juicy. Perfect. Also too perfect.

But if you didn’t eat, you were sure he’d probably force you too. So, you gave in. As much as the logical side of the brain was screaming at you to stop.

The prince’s gaze never left your lips as you ate. His eyes were persistently on you, even as he devoured his own breakfast and poured a cup of something that smelled strongly of coffee.

“Did Jackal explain anything to you before he shoved you into a room with a horny Drake?” The prince asked. An eyebrow raising when you told him of the rules Jackal gave you. And you added on that you were meant to be a treat, as a means of amendment from Jackal.“At least he wanted you to live through the morning. And yes, Jackal made a small mistake last night. Maahes exaggerates, it wasn’t so bad he’d lose his territory. He’s just angry he lost a bet at all. You were lucky I found you before Maahes went too far. I do enjoy it when Maahes is rough with me. But your delicate body would snap apart the moment he pulls down his pants.”

The rush of heat that exploded in your body, crawling up your neck and into your cheeks made the prince chuckle. “That’s adorable. But also very dangerous. Don’t do that around Maahes. If he gets whiff that you’re into things like him, you’ll be chained to his hips and riding his cock until your body breaks.”

You tried to argue. Maybe say something that it wasn’t arousal, but shock at the prince’s choice of words. But the prince shot you a look that silenced your rebuttal before it began. “I can smell it on you, pet. Don’t even try lying to my face. It won’t end well for you.” His words carried a threat that made your skin crawl with a chill. Even if his tone was light and teasing. Something in his gaze had your heart racing.

“What are you going to do to me?” You asked. You wanted to know, so you could at least brace for whatever was about to happen to you. How many books have you read about similar scenarios? You had the hot, sexy men part ticked off. A strange, weird place in the Fae realm, checked. But this wasn’t a romance. You were just left to the mercy of a creature with scales. Given a hint at the power that could make you do anything the man in front of you wanted.

Your life very much was in danger right now.

“Hmm, I’m not sure yet.” The prince said. Leaning back in his chair as he regarded you with a critical eye. Like he was appraising a piece of art. “But I’m sure you’re asking if I’m going to kill you. Eat your bones. Turn you into a…I don’t know. What do we Fae do to humans? It’s been centuries since I’ve talked to one. But you never forget the scent.” The prince breathed in deeply and released it slowly with a long sigh. When his eyes opened, his pupils were blown wide like he was intoxicated.

“Such a delicious fragrance. It used to drive me mad in my youth. The lust. The hunger. Oh, fuck, the sex…” The prince finally looked at you again. As if suddenly remembering you were there and had asked a question. “No, dear pet, I am not going to kill you. Some of my court might try. But I’ve already ordered them that you are to be untouched. Left only for me to squeeze.”

He flashed you a smile that made his already handsome face become even more beautiful. “Anyone that tries to force themselves on you will meet my wrath. You are welcome to wander the palace. I do suggest staying as far away from Maahes as possible. And don’t go into the gardens until-”

“If I may, Hez.” The sudden voice of Jackal made you jump as he appeared by your side. Seeming to appear out of thin air as he joined you at the table. Sitting to your right. “I suggest we keep her caged until the staff and court get used to the scent of her in the estate. Already there has been enough unrest that Maahes has had his fill of Fae blood. She will be safer in the dungeons until you solidify the order for her to remain untouched.”

The prince played with the fabric of his tunic as he thought over Jackal’s words. His eyes following the line of your neck to your shoulders and then to the material that smothered your breasts into a perfect soft mound. “You make a good point, Jackal. However…because it was your trap that brought her here, she is your responsibility.”

Jackal’s jaw twinged as he glanced at you. “Hez, I cannot afford to be distracted from my work. I cannot continuously check on her in the cells-”

“Then have her in your office until you ensure she won’t be touched down there.” The prince smiled. A sense of amusement flashing over his face as he winked at you. “Jackal will take fine care of you until I have time for you, pet. Stay close to him and do what he says.”

A sharp scent ripped through your nose and you winced as your mind latched onto the words the prince spoke. An order. An order given by a Fae prince laced with…magic.

“I don’t think she’s stupid enough to try and run from me.” Jackal said. Sighing heavily as he took a sausage from one of the plates and took a bite from it. “Come on then, Lily. Time to watch me do paperwork for hours on end.”

“Lily?” Hezirus asked as Jackal stood. You felt your body follow suit. But it wasn’t anything like the cold touch of shadows or the constricting power from Hezirus. You wanted to follow Jackal. You were told to do as he said, and damn well you will do it.

“It’s not her name.” Jackal assured the prince. “She’s as lovely as a lily. So, that’s what I’ll call her.”

“Hmm, I don’t think that suits her.” Hezirus said thoughtfully. Tilting his head as he looked you up and down again.

“Well, she’s your pet. You pick a name for her.” Then Jackal smiled viciously and tapped the tip of your nose. “Or are you going to introduce yourself?”

When your glare was the only reply they got, the two men laughed and Jackal clicked his tongue. You followed him like a puppy on a leash, up many staircases and through many corridors. Until you found yourself back in the room you started in. Where the basin had now been emptied of water but the room still smelled of the shampoo in your hair.

“Sit.” Jackal ordered. And your body slumped into a wooden chair by a large desk. One that was covered in many long pieces of parchment and piles of books. A few empty ink pots were put to the side. While a stack of new ones awaited to be used. “You might want to get comfortable. You’re going to be here for a while.”

You looked around. Attempting to get comfortable in the wooden chair next to Jackal’s desk. Much unlike the plush, armchair-like seat he possessed, the wood was hard against your ass and the surface cold to the touch.

A few minutes passed as Jackal opened a few books and arranged them to stand in small holders to keep them open. He arranged paper out in front of him and then opened a thick, leather bound book by his left hand. You tapped your fingernails against the wood of the chair. Already insane from the quiet of the room.

“Can I have a book or something?” You asked. And Jackal scoffed a laugh.

“I doubt I have anything here that you can read. It’s all documents and spellbooks; all in languages you can’t read.” Jackal waited for you to argue. But when you didn’t give a rebuttal about knowing more languages than one, he left it to rest. “If you’d like to pass the time, you’re more than welcome to pass the time on me.” The smile was playful. Menacingly teasing as he smirked at you when your cheeks flushed pink.

“You’re not going to order me to do that?” You asked scornfully. And Jackal shrugged, plucking a quill from its seat in an ink pot and started writing.

“I could. Since Hezirus gave you the order to do whatever I say. Or I could force you to do it with my servants. But it’s not as much fun when the giver uses teeth and tries drawing blood every second.” At the word ‘servants’ the shadows from beneath the desks nearby came alive and crawled over the floor towards you. You pulled your dress away from the curious clawed hands and the room filled with whispered laughter as you gasped in horror.

Jackal tsked and the shadows scattered. Returning to being nothing more than dark spots under the desks. “Now hush, I have to concentrate.”

You must have dozed off somewhere after the third hour mark of sitting and doing nothing. The room was bitterly cold now and you shifted in your seat. Trying to find a comfortable position when a touch of fire brushed over your thigh.

You jerked awake. Startling when you came face to face with Jackal. Who had turned his chair towards you and was sitting almost directly between your legs. Both of his hands were coiled around your right thigh. Molding the cool skin with his fingers so gently that it almost tickled.

“Get your hands-”

“Shush, I’m thinking.” Jackal barked back. And the harshness of his voice froze you in place. Or was it the order to do as he says? You had no idea, but you knew that you were helpless in that chair as he squeezed your leg like he was kneading dough into shape. Scraping his palm along your skin through the velvety material of your dress. You had to lean back as he lifted your calf and draped your leg over his lap. You were left completely open to him in this position. But Jackal didn’t seem to notice.

He never went any higher than your upper thigh. His eyes were distant, staring at your chest but not actually paying attention to the shape of your cleavage. It was just the last place he looked before his thoughts trailed off.

You kept quiet. At least welcoming the warmth from Jackal’s lap and touch over your chilled skin.

Any longer here and you were going to freeze. You’d even welcome the harsh treatment of the hot bath just to warm you up. The dress was useless against the breeze that blew in from the open window. And the sun was beginning to go down.

Shit…have you already been here the entire day? No wonder your back was killing you.

Jackal startled you by humming and dropping your leg from his lap. Non-delicately letting your bare foot slap against the stone and you shuffled back onto the chair. He returned to his desk and started feverishly writing something down.

You stayed silent. Kicking your leg over the other to try and savor some of the tingling warmth from Jackal’s fingers. You hated how tenderly he had touched you. Because your core kind of enjoyed the attention.

The sky outside was pitch black and somewhere in the castle, you heard distant screams. It had started some hours ago and had long since lost its pitch. But the volume was still there. Telling you of the absolute agony that was ripping through someone.

“It’s no one you know.” Jackal assured you. Seeing your worried expression. “Maahes told me that there was a second human that jumped in the trap with you. And so far, I haven’t found them. Even if someone already claimed your friend, there would be traces of her. When a Fae consumes or fucks a human there’s…changes.”

That was at least comforting. But hearing such visceral cries turned your blood cold and nausea twisted in your stomach.

They were cut off rather quickly some hours after nightfall. And you weren’t sure if the silence following it was worse or better.

Jackal leaned back in his chair and stretched. Your eyes caught a glimpse of the toned body beneath the fine black tunic. But you tore your eyes away just as Jackal glanced at you.

“You’ve been rather quiet…Oh, right, I told you to shush. You can talk now. I don’t need to think for a bit.”

“I was going to say to get your hands off me.” You snapped. Suddenly finding an urge to speak now Jackal told you so. “Don’t ever touch me again.”

“But you’re so soft and warm.” Jackal practically purred. His arms hanging over the back of his chair as he stared at you. And this time, he really stared at you. With an intensity that had you looking away and a fresh wave of heat flooding your center. And that little nibble of his bottom lip was an added unfair flare.

“You’re disgusting.” You mumbled.

“I’m sure you'll change your mind eventually.” Jackal chuckled. The molten copper turned sharp once more as he returned them to the desk full of freshly scrawled paper. “If you were literate I’d have you read these so I can rest my eyes. But you’re unfortunately not that useful.”

“I can read.” You hissed and Jackal rolled his eyes. Lowering his arms so they came to rest on the desk.

“Can you read dwarvish?” Jackal asked. Then he clicked his tongue when you huffed a curse at him and turned your head away again. “Like I said, illiterate. Shame…it would have been cute having you sit on my lap while you read this over.”

“Fuck off.”

Jackal laughed and sighed. The breath was heavy as it filled his lungs. “I better get you to your cell before I let your arousal do anymore to me. Get up, little flower. And stay close. Maahes is wandering the halls looking for a chance to drag you under him again. And Hezirus is busy ensuring the court doesn’t devour you through the night. So, I’m all you have keeping you alive until we get you to your cage.”

You stood before your mind could think of doing so. And then you were walking beside Jackal through the palace, a step behind him. “What is stopping Maahes from…getting in my..cage?” It sounded weird to say. And you dearly hoped it wasn’t going to be a cage in the middle of a room like the one you appeared in.

“Hezirus.” Jackal replied, as a matter of factly. “Our prince holds alot of power. And not even a Drake as powerful as Maahes can disobey his orders while in his own home. He’ll try to lure you to his bed chambers, or the floor, I’m sure. But as long as you keep saying ‘no’, you’ll be safe.”

“That’s all that is stopping him from…you know…”

“Words hold more power here than your world, sweet flower. And Hezirus has explicitly ordered your words are the rules to your body. So, be mindful when speaking to anyone here. It might save your life.”

You trailed alongside Jackal as he took you deeper into the palace. Down even more stairs and corridors, until he stopped outside of a steel door. You weren’t stupid. This was a dungeon, deep under the palace. You could smell bile and filth from the other locked rooms. And the air was cold and thick.

But there were no guards here. Only the flickering torches along the walls and the soft, pained whimpering of the other prisoners.

“I had your cell cleaned before I brought you down here.” Jackal said. As if his words made it all better as the door to the cell opened without him touching it. Revealing a cramped, dark room. A cot was pushed into the corner. Merely a wooden pallet with hay stuffed into the crevasses and a thin blanket covering the splintering wood.

The pillow looked thin and splotched with gray marks.

“I’m going to freeze down here.” You said. Pulling at the stretchy material of your outfit. “This is barely going to keep me warm.”

“That’s Hezirus’ problem, not mine.” Jackal replied.

Then a hard cold force slammed into you and you stumbled into the cell. The door creaked shut and you heard a lock click into place. You rushed to the door as Jackal opened the little slit, allowing you to see his copper eyes through the darkness.

“Whenever Hezirus remembers his pet is down here, I’m sure he’ll provide you with all the best luxuries your little human body needs.” Jackal said with a roll of his bright eyes. “I, however, do not have time to babysit you at every minute. So, you’ll sit down here, in the dark, like a good girl until things settle. My servants swarm this place, so you’re safe. Just don’t make too much noise. Or you’ll attract some unwanted attention. Get some sleep, little flower. You’ll need it for tomorrow.”

You beat your fists against the door as the slit slid closed. Calling after Jackal in a colorful array of words and sentences. Some even got an impressed whistle out of the spy-master before you heard his boots disappear.

You retreated from the door when someone screamed from a nearby cell. The whispering laughter of shadows echoed through the darkness in response.

You went to the cot. The wood creaked under your weight as you curled up against the corner of the room. Gathering the thin blanket around you. Ignoring the itchiness from the hay and tried very hard not to think of bugs crawling in your hair or down along your arms.

You tried to stay awake. Something was moving beyond the cell door but it never came any closer. Someone would scream or start crying. Another would start begging. Only to be silenced by a harsh hiss that made your blood run cold.

You curled up tighter and closed your eyes. Hoping the sun would scatter the shadows when it rose.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MasterList- Here’s where all my writing is saved.

Patreon- Buy me a Coffee or get access to my Archive. Either way, I appreciate it <3

Commission Rules/Costs- Want something more personal? Give this a read and check to see if I’m accepting Commissions.