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shamrockqueen · 14 hours

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Omega retreat : Chapter 6

Pairing : Alpha Bucky x Omega Reader

Warnings : R18, Eventual Smut, Anxiety, Heat cycles, things aren’t what they seem, unwanted attention.

Word count : 1734

Masterlist

Summary : As an unmarked and lonely omega you find a flyer for a service called The Omega Retreat.

You are paired with a compatible alpha to spend your heat or just a week at a luxurious cabin at a forest resort. Amenities and Utilities included. Enjoy the beautiful scenery, fresh air, as well as the company of an alpha of your choosing. What could possibly go wrong?

You got your affairs in order, took the time off from work, and packed your bags. Now you were simply counting the days until you could see him, and as your heat had already been slowly approaching, there wasn’t much time left.

With each phone and video call, it seemed to be all either of you could talk about. But, when the day finally came, he seemed just as doting as your mother. Although, it was more amusing to hear these things from him than it had been from her.

Your spirits were at their highest, yet as you felt your heat prick at your skin, it left an unnerving feeling in your belly. Having to procure birth control for the first time was nerve-wracking enough, and yet you were already conditioned to fear your body's natural functions.

You try your best to shake the negativity away, even at the last second, as you finish packing your car and are ready to leave.

You're snug in the driver's seat, looking back at your locked front door. A moment all too similar to the day you came home from the hospital, thankful that your mother brought you your car and even more so that you were even alive.

You took a deep breath in and gave a heavy exhale. All before turning to your phone and sitting in the passenger’s seat beside your purse. Another one of Bucky’s messages of encouragement lit across the screen. You felt a stray tear threatening to trickle down your cheek, only to be wiped away with a single drag of your finger.

You quickly pulled your hand from your cheek and threw the car in reverse before rolling out of the driveway and out onto the street.

You were flying on a cloud of determination, feeling airier by the second. It was easy to ignore the subtle rise in your body temperature as you glided towards your destination. It was only during a brief pit stop that you were able to fan at the thin sheen of sweat that had built over your skin.

You needed some gas and maybe a quick snack—nothing that should have delayed you too much. You pulled into a large service gas station off the highway and stopped by one of the pumps before stepping out of the car.

It was still so warm out, with only a small breeze in the air to help cool your skin. You swiped your card, pulled the nozzle, and stuck in the fuel filler to fill the tank as you locked the car and left to find a snack in the adjacent convenience store.

You pulled your phone from your back pocket as you stepped inside. There was a message waiting for you from Bucky, just a little ‘hey, have you left yet?’

You tapped at the screen to type back, just letting him know you’d stopped for gas and still had some distance to cover until you’d be at the resort.

You hope he was excited, and maybe even as nervous as you were to finally see each other.

You tucked the phone away again as you stepped down towards the drink coolers at the back of the store. There were a few cork boards stapled up by the bathrooms, and old business cards for bakeries and auto repair were tucked beside a familiar but faded red flier.

You pulled a soda from the cooler and toed a few steps closer.

You felt a small flutter in your stomach when you read the ‘Omega Retreat’ title. It was almost the same piece of paper that brought you this far, and it was nice to see it again before journeying across the finish line.

You took the paper between two fingers, pulling it forward for a better look. Instead, you found another flier tacked up behind it—another faded picture with much more somber messages.

It was a poster for a missing Omega.

The word was set in bold to convey how dire the situation was. The woman on it was smiling, cracked only by a thin white line in an old bend in the paper. Below was a number to call if you had any information about where she might be, but two of the last digits were too faded to decipher whether it was 78 or 10.

There were always rumors of Omega’s being sought after and even stolen from their homes and families. It was something that you and many others like you hoped was not better than a legend.

The picture was old, leaving no doubt that if this woman hadn’t been found by now, she never would be. It made your stomach drop as you let the paper fall back over top of it.

You felt a familiar sense of unease bubbling in your belly. What if that girl was you? What would that do to your family if they never saw you come home?

You shook your head and wandered back into one of the narrow aisles. You were so tired of feeling scared, and you wanted to only focus on the good things that awaited you. The resort had wonderful reviews, and of course they boasted about safety if anything were to happen. If your prince charming turned out to be a monster in disguise, then you should still be safe.

You paid for your haul of twizzlers and Sprite before finally making it out to your car to drive away. That little gas station disappeared behind you as the road stretched out ahead. It wasn’t incredibly scenic until you approached the property. Green hills and a plush forest line either side of the road before the main building comes into view ahead. It was bigger than you’d expected, but not as rustic as the cabins. It was professional and comfortable.

You pulled into an empty space in the parking lot, taking another breath before cutting the engine and looking back at the building. This was it; he’d be here. An alpha is waiting here just for you.

The air in the car grew thin, and a thick wave of sweat finally started to drip down the back of your neck. It felt as if you could start shaking, and a familiar sense of terror bubbled in your stomach alongside the budding of your heat.

You just breathe, taking in only as much air as necessary before calming your rising nerves. Things would be better; you wouldn’t be alone this time.

You give yourself a small smile before reaching to unbuckle your seatbelt and falling short upon receiving a knock at your car window.

You’d nearly kicked yourself out of the driver's seat upon hearing it. All efforts to soothe your own anxieties are destroyed at the hands of some young employee trying to get your attention.

His face was left red with embarrassment at scaring a guest, and you could barely hear him stuttering out his sorries.

You crack the door, offering an apology for not having seen him.

“I really didn’t mean to scare you, ma’am. We thought maybe you needed some help with your bags.”

“Oh, uh sure.” You pulled yourself out of the car, purse hooked over the bend of your elbow, and keys tight in your hand as you rounded the car towards the back to grab your suitcase for him.

He reeked like a nervous beta, which was oddly reassuring to you. Betas are like a blank slate to heats and ruts and are often helpful mediators, so the little employee’s presence helped to calm you just a little bit. He grabs your suitcase, and you proceed to look at the car doors before following him into the building. It was bigger on the inside than you had expected, lavish and modern at every inch as well. You see the other waiting couples being all lovey-dovey, some awkwardly sweet, and a few with steely faces.

One couple stood out as a redhead and a tall blonde, surrounded by an icy atmosphere. She barely gave him the time of day, and he almost looked like he was gritting his teeth. It put into perspective how meeting strangers might end horribly.

“Go ahead and have a seat; I can take your name and find your reservation.” The employee was quick to steal your attention before showing you to an open chair in the foyer.

“Oh, of course,” you say with a weak smile before giving him the needed information and sitting down in the soft seat as he sets your bags by the chair.

You watched as the little beta shuffled to the front desk as a rogue dribble of sweat ran from your hairline and rounded towards the back of your neck. With all the mixed scents in the air, it seemed to rile up the heat that bubbles beneath your skin, making it spike ever so slightly. You felt like the only heated omega in the room, and it made you more and more self-conscious.

The feeling of budding heat added to the building dread in your belly, a greatly unwanted side effect from years of painful cycles.

But, things would be different this time; you would have someone to carry you through the heat this time. It was the only sentiment that soothed your nerves as you burrowed further into the cushy seat.

You felt a few eyes trailing towards you, several from staff, and most were edged with concern. You watched as that same beta was speaking to another employee at the desk before grabbing one of the phones and pressing it to his ear.

You took a calming breath, understanding that you may have to wait a while after arriving so early. It seemed to be working too, making your scent blossom with a sweet sense of building tranquility. It was a pleasant first for you, but such pleasantries never seemed to last, and as another stranger approached you their robust scent broke your calming bubble.

Long legs brushed past your knees, and as you looked up at their owner, you saw a familiar face.

You’d only seen his profile once before rejecting it, but you couldn’t remember his name. You felt sick to be under his gaze, your stomach twisting from him standing so close.

“Hey there.” He gave you a devilish grin as his brown eyes narrowed down at you.

Tag list : @meowmeowyoongles @black-cat-2 @cjand10 @bethyruth @scott-loki-barnes @wintrsoldrluvr @buckysdoll85 @lendeluxe @meowmeowyoongles @heletsmelovehim @mcira @buckysbaby-doll @serendipitouslife90 @unicornicopia1 @animegirlgeeky @matchat3a @darkdemeter @onyxwolf @thebuckybarnesvault @nicestgirlonline @jbuckybarnesfan @val-writesstuff @birdenthusiastez @ozwriterchick @mandab44 @cringeycookies @skittslackoffilter @sunglasses-in-the-bentley @bohemianrhapsody86

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allgremlinart · 1 year

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superbat wip... that World’s Finest cover was right, they DO deserve a homoerotic beach vacation..

#pspsps huge Clark truthers #this inspired by the scraps of canon superbat size difference evidence I've found..#also when I'm done if anyone wants to write a fic where they get tricked into taking a romantic getaway parent trap style... feel free #allgremlinwip

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itslottiehere · 10 months

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mors tua, vita mea — h.s

hello beautiful people 🤍 welcome back! i know, i know, it’s been a while, but i truly hope this story makes up for the lack of writing! i’ve had so much fun while writing this, and i hope you’ll like it as much as i do <3 please, let me know what you think! you can do so in your reblog, in your tags, or in my asks! if you enjoy the story, please consider reblogging! it really helps me and also make me want to keep going!! without further ado, happy reading! <3

— inspired by “getaway car” by taylor swift.

cw: angst, a bit of kissing, some swear words

word count: 6.5k

gif by @londonharry

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—

the backstreet was dark, a few spots of light showing her the way to the car she hid before the heist took place. before chris could know that there was only one way that night could have ended, and that was with him locked up.

she had been planning this for months now: their biggest heist, her biggest betrayal.

she wasn’t sentimental about it at all, it was just pure business: she knew the cops were closing in on them, so she had to leave before shit hit the fan. simple as that.

also, chris was becoming way too attached to her as it was, so it was really a two birds with one stone deal for her: she had always made it clear that their “relationship” was nothing more than work, but sometimes the nights in the safe house got boring and lonely, and the company was appreciated.

still, a few nights of sex didn’t mean there were feelings involved or anything of that sort, and no matter how much chris said that he “got it”, she noticed the changes in his attitude, how protective of her he became, how his touch would linger for a second longer, how he would double and triple check with her if she got wounded, how he would always make sure she was safe before worrying about his own safety.

how he made it so easy for her to manipulate him.

the poor thing never saw it coming. the pink lenses of infatuation making him painfully oblivious to the fact that he was never gonna see her again.

both her and the outside world, from her calculations: the cops would find plenty of evidence on him, in the safe house, that would tie him up with a pretty little bow and send him off to prison for god’s know how long, all the while making him the perfect scapegoat for her.

she couldn’t know if chris would rat her out, — although she thought it not likely, given the lovesick puppy look he had ever since they slept together, — but even if he tried to, she made sure not to leave any trace of her identity in any document, in anything that had to do with any illegal activity.

and even if she did, they wouldn’t have found her: the identity she used wasn’t hers, and she was gonna stop being the person chris knew as soon as she drove away, her new id card safely stored in the pocket of her jacket, the old one burnt to a crisp.

the soles of her shoes were scraping against the gravel, the ground wet from the light november rain, while she jogged to what would bring her into a new life, a new start. she had to get out of there, immediately.

what she wasn’t expecting was a dark silhouette appearing on the other side of the alley, seemingly jogging towards her.

fuck, fuck, fuck.

she was so sure she had locked the exit door on the back, so how did chris manage to get out? he would have had to figure out she was planning on framing him.

if that was the case, this wasn’t gonna end well.

she opened up the door to her car, ready to bolt, when the unknown figure spoke slowly: “wait.”

that was not chris. the voice was deep, rough, and the way he pronounced just one single word made chills run through her body.

or maybe that was just the adrenaline of it all, the fear of getting caught betraying her partner by said partner.

“wait.” the figure spoke once more, getting closer to the car. “i need a lift.”

what the actual fuck? did he take her for an uber driver or something?

she scoffed and got in the car, keys inside the ignition, ready to drive off.

which couldn’t be done since the tall figure decided to stand in the middle of the alley.

she couldn’t really honk, not when the alarms inside the building were about to go off and the place was about to be stormed by cops. she had to leave, and if she had to run over him, then so be it.

she put her foot on the gas, put in the first gear and was very much convinced that the man would decide to move out of the way.

but she had no such luck.

his hands hit the hood of her car, hard, while she pressed on the breaks with all her strength in order to not make him flat on the ground.

so much for survival instincts, she thought.

“were you really about to run me over?” the man spoke — his figure now becoming clearer since he was nearer than before. a lazy smirk cut his face. “mmh. i like you.”

and just like that he was opening the passenger’s door, seating down and buckling his seatbelt.

she was utterly shocked, what the hell was going on, why was he- “who the fuck are you? and what the actual fuck do you think you’re doing in my car?”

the man chuckled lowly, casting two deep indents in his cheeks. “oh wow, they didn’t tell me the owl had such a filthy mouth.”

the name made her eyes go wide: the owl. working in the darkest hours of the night was her distinctive trait, hence the nickname she chose for herself while doing business.

“‘m harry, by the way. don’t have a cool nickname like yours yet, but perhaps i should find one. what about the puma? what do you think?”

she scoffed, looking straight and finally driving away. “well, harry or the puma or whatever you wanna be called-”

“harry is just fine.”

“alright, harry, would you mind telling me why the fuck are you here?” her patience was wearing thin and she really didn’t want to lose any more time on this.

“oh right, sort of forgot to tell you, didn’t i? okay, well, my dear owl- hold up, don’t i get to know your name? i told you mine.” he turned his body to face her.

judging by the deep frown of her eyebrows and how set her eyes were on the road in front of them, he assumed he wouldn’t get it that easily.

“well, doesn’t matter for now. so, back to where i was: i have been checking you out for a while, saw your latest works and was very impressed. i’m in need of a partner, and from what i saw tonight, so do you.” he spoke, and in the far distance they could hear the police sirens and spot the blue and red lights: everything was about to go down.

harry coming to bother her on that particular night was really somewhat karmic, wasn’t it? she screwed over her partner, so fate had to bring an annoying man in her plans, once again. she cleared her throat, her tone dry.

“how did you know what i would do?”

harry turned once again towards the road. “i knew the police was closing in on you, so i thought that if you played your cards right you may have the chance to get away, and the better escape plan would have been to ditch your partner.” the man in her passenger seat stretched his legs, his arms raised up, his voice coming out a bit strained. “word on the street was that tonight something was going down, i thought to check it out to see if it was actually gonna be you. my lucky night, i’d say.”

harry had heard plenty about the owl’s operations and was extremely intrigued by her. the plans were intricate, but incredibly well thought out, and often went down without a hitch, and the chosen artworks to be stolen being invaluable masterpieces made it all the more admirable. he knew as soon as he saw one of her biggest heists go down so smoothly that he desperately wanted to be in business with her, so he began keeping tabs on her, which brought him in that alley, that precise night.

he didn’t expect to be so entranced to her.

sure, he was in awe of her plans and the way she carried on her business, but he was struck by her. even more than her looks, it was the confidence she radiated from her stance, her set gaze, her clenched jaw, that was what drew him in immediately.

he knew she was trouble, especially given her line of work. but it seemed like he couldn’t help himself to fall under her spell, and that was saying something, since she tried to run him over not even 20 minutes prior.

oh, poor harry didn’t know what he was getting into.

she wasn’t dumb, nor blind: harry was a treat for the eyes, and obviously way more prepared than chris ever was. still to that day she couldn’t believe he didn’t see it coming, it was all so clear to her. she was sneaky, of course, but he must’ve had some clue, right? or well, she guessed that what people say is true: love makes you dumb.

harry was another league, though. he kept track of her, which must’ve not been easy since she always took so many precautions to keep everything on the down low; he discovered her plan and also understood that the better route for her was to ditch her partner.

he definitely had more experience than chris, and that could be an advantage: for once, she could have someone to bounce ideas off of, and since harry managed to find out her ironclad plans, it means that something wasn’t as hidden as she would’ve liked, and having him could help with that.

when she started her business, she swore that she had to be the one calling all the shots: being the perfectionist she is, she couldn’t relegate the responsibility of something so important like a heist to someone who wasn’t herself. she decided to get a partner — enter, chris — just because sometimes it was physically impossible to do it all on her own. that didn’t change the fact that he was merely a mean to an end, he had no voice whatsoever in planning anything, and not once had he complained about it, nor he had any reason to: the money was good, and once he even got to win her affection — or well, what he thought could’ve turned into something more — he was good with doing whatever she wanted.

she had the feeling it wasn’t gonna be like this with harry.

or well, at least not that easy.

“that was impressive, not going to lie. it mustn’t have been easy to keep track of my movements. so, bravo.” she spoke, her eyes quickly glancing towards him.

a smirk took place on harry’s face, the praise of such a pro stroking his ego. “it was, but very much worth it.”

his voice was smooth like silk, and even the dumbest person walking on earth could’ve felt the flirty undertones of his words from miles away.

she quickly thought about it, a new plan. a new, better plan.

“okay, pretty boy. if you can keep up, i can think about being partners. that is, if you prove worthy of my time.”

“deal.” he smiled, and again the dimples on his cheeks made an appearance. “pretty boy, huh? should that be my badass nickname?”

“still better than the puma.”

that night marked the beginning of a new era, four years of the most lucrative, crazy, exciting heists the both of them could have ever imagined.

and over the course of those years, the inevitable and not so unexpected happened: they fell for each other, and they fell hard.

endless night of planning, scheming, and building trust with each other turned them into real life bonnie and clyde, absolutely drunk on adrenaline and love.

it was definitely not something she had planned, not something she had wanted either, but there was no denying chemistry: sometimes, things just happen, and you have no choice but to let them run their course.

harry was just as smitten: he was hooked from the beginning, and fought hard to win her over from day one.

it started as a ‘business partners with benefits’ kind of deal, a way to ‘pass the time’, — at least for her, harry was already harboring feelings for the woman — but it bloomed into something more, somewhat organically.

he still teased her that she became soft for him when he got injured during an escape: the rope attached to the top of the building didn’t hold up harry, who suffered a bad fall. his shoulder was dislocated, and she had to be the one who had to put it back in place, since hospitals weren’t really an option, and harry couldn’t ignore the look she held in her eyes, as if even just the thought of hurting him was physically hurting her.

he didn’t expect it, definitely not from someone like the infamous owl: she showed no remorse for her actions, no feelings for the first six months of them working together, and he made peace with the fact that that was just the way it was gonna be, but was pleasantly surprised when that revealed not to be the case.

the world knew her as a scheming, logical woman, but harry had the privilege of being her soft spot.

he was always a pretty open guy, not scared of having big feelings or of falling in love. he had already felt it in the past, he just wasn’t prepared to experience how powerful it could feel with the right person: what he felt for her was something out of a novel, a perfect mixture of infatuation, almost obsession, adrenaline and maybe insanity, and it was so incredibly addicting.

the last heist was a perfect success, their biggest bag as a matter of fact. the artwork they managed to steal had taken months upon months of planning, but it all went down incredibly smoothly: 7 minutes, in and out, exactly like they had wanted. they were already far when the police arrived, harry behind the wheel, driving their getaway car.

with chris, she had never let him drive, ever: she had to be in control of everything, of every little aspect, probably because she never fully trusted him. but she did trust harry, wholeheartedly so.

the drive to the dingy motel wasn’t too long, the night chill enveloping them thanks to the lack of a roof on their car. the adrenaline was running high still, and she couldn’t stop herself from leaning in and leaving a kiss on harry’s smiling lips, their grins quite too big to properly kiss each other. but it didn’t matter, the feeling was all the same, the rush quite impossible to describe to someone who never felt it.

harry disconnected their lips, not before leaving a quick peck once again, and looked back to the barely lit country road ahead of them.

“very risky to distract me like that right now, sweetheart.”

“couldn’t help it, pretty boy. you’re just too damn good-looking.” she smiled at the nickname, and harry did too: it stuck ever since that first night, and harry definitely never complained.

“c’mon, we’re almost at the motel.” harry’s hand took its rightful place on her left thigh, softly squeezing the flesh, awakening a storm of butterflies and inviting them to bat their wings in her stomach. she rested her hand on top of his, gently toying with his rings.

the motel neon sign was missing a few letters, its occupants nothing less than unsavory, but she didn’t care: she wasn’t one to be scared in the first place, much less with harry by her side.

once they got to their room, she locked the door and quickly found her back pressed into it, harry’s lips straight on hers. she knew what was coming, it happened every single time after a hit: the euphoria of a successful heist was a very powerful aphrodisiac.

harry’s lips pressed slowly against her own, he was in no hurry now. after he felt her body relaxing in his hold, he moved onto her neck, and smiled against her skin when he heard a shaky breath falling from her lips after he sucked lightly on the spot he knew would drive her crazy.

her hand went immediately into his hair, tugging on the curls she loved to play with at every chance she got, while the other travelled down his torso, heading towards his belt.

knowing where she was going, harry detached his lips from her neck and looked at her: flushed cheeks, her eyes — his favorite feature of hers — slightly glazed over, her lips full and a raspberry colour. he smiled at the sight.

“sweetheart,” he murmured. “sweetheart, hey.”

“mmh?” she hummed, her hands roaming under his shirt, feeling the expanse of his tummy and chest, pressing her lips in the dip of his throat.

harry hated to have to tear himself away from her and her touch, but a shower was in order, and also making her wait made the whole situation way more intriguing, her getting antsy waiting for him really did a number on him.

her forehead rested on his chest, a small whine falling from her lips when he felt him trying to move away from her, which made harry chuckle. he softly pressed a kiss to the top of her head, slowly walking backwards towards the restroom, but her arms refused to leave his body, so she was stumbling along with him, her cheek still smushed against his chest.

harry reached behind his back to untangle her arms from his waist, not without her protesting. he leaned in and planted a wet kiss on her cheek, murmuring a low “be right back”, before leaving the room.

she felt drunk, as she usually did whenever harry was in near proximity, but there was nothing she could do about it.

she laid down on the dingy bed, eagerly waiting for her lover to be back and, to kill the time, she decided to turn on the tv.

what she saw sobered her up real quick.

the news were reporting a robbery at a famous gallery, two figures with their dark hoodies up filmed from a camera at the end of the alley.

a camera both she and harry failed to notice.

they were lucky the camera was at the opposite end of the dark and unlit alley, and caught just a glimpse of their backs, but this wasn’t good. this was not supposed to happen.

never, in all her years of planning, had she forgot to notice a camera, and the fact that this happened with their biggest heist made the blood drain from her face.

she tried her hardest to lower her heart rate and to focus on what the newscaster was saying: two suspects, no faces identified, probably left by car, all the other cameras in the block were somehow off during the escape — somehow actually being the work of one of harry’s acquaintances — and the police had no leads for the moment.

all things considered, it wasn’t bad at all.

so why couldn’t she seem to catch her breath?

the bathroom door creaked open, a bit of steam filling the room. harry stepped out, a towel hanging on his lower half, his body glistening with little droplets of water, hair matted and still dripping a little.

he had a dopey smile on his lips, which soon fell once he noticed that she wasn’t ogling at him as she usually would when he stepped out of a shower.

“hey,” he called out to her, “something wrong?”

she didn’t even notice that harry had walked back into the room, so she slightly jumped at the sound of his voice. her head quickly turned towards him, as she just as quickly turned the tv off.

“of course, yeah.” she smiled. “missed you.”

“could’ve joined me, you know?” he grinned, “never would refuse a beautiful lady like you.” he got closer to her and pressed his lips softly against hers.

she reciprocated the kiss, disconnecting it quite a bit earlier than harry would’ve liked, and murmured still close to his lips, “can we cuddle for a bit?”

harry’s hands cupped her cheeks, his thumbs slowly stroking the apples, “yeah, of course. want my shirt to sleep in?”

she excitedly nodded, staring at his back while he retrieved a shirt from his luggage.

sleep came quickly to harry, his arm holding her tightly against his chest, comforted by the feeling of having her safe in his arms.

she still couldn’t quite catch her breath.

harry woke up to an empty bed: the creamy rays of sun beamed through the worn blinds, rousing him awake. as he did every morning, he reached for her, looking forward to hooking his arm around her waist and feel her snuggle against his chest. but that day, his hand touched a cold piece of comforter instead of the warm, soft body of his girl.

his eyes opened immediately, trying to adapt to the light, his brows furrowed as he knuckled his eyes, trying to blink away the sleepiness. his slightly startled heart stopped once he saw her seated at the little desk the room provided, typing away on her computer, wrapped in his sweatshirt with her hair still damp from the shower she probably had just taken.

way too focused on adjusting the last details of the meetup with the buyer for that same night, she jumped when she felt two strong arms engulfing her.

“morning, love.” his morning voice was a gift straight from heaven, it never failed to make her feel warm and cozy. “don’t like it when i wake up without you.”

she could hear the pout on his face, and she smiled at the notion that he was so affected by her absence. “good morning, pretty boy. just had to take a shower and finalize the details for the drop off with the buyer tonight.” she turned around and looked at his still half closed eyes. she tilted her head up, puckering her lips a little, “kiss?”

harry didn’t miss a beat and laid his mouth on hers, moaning softly at the contact.

she hadn’t lied per se, she had to do all of what she said, but she also couldn’t stand lying awake in that bed for one more second: she had barely gotten any sleep the previous night, the video of them on the news flashing continuously in her mind.

so she tried to focus on work, to get things right before they could go wrong.

the day went by as usual, the two of them laying low, preparing for the meetup with this anonymous buyer. the sum of money this person was offering was definitely mind blowing, and there was no way they could turn it down.

in the late afternoon, they left the motel to reach the location given to them: it was a rundown warehouse, obviously abandoned, and they were under strict orders to arrive at 8pm on the dot, to leave the car outside the main gate, and proceed by feet till they arrived to the container with the number 258: that was where they’d find an employee of the buyer.

it was all routine, they almost never handled a deal with the buyer directly, and they understood the reason. she and harry never exchanged names as well, for safety reasons, or any other details, just informations about the drop.

at 7:50pm, they were parked outside the warehouse. the chill of the desert air made the hair on her arms stand, a shiver running down her spine.

“cold?” harry asked, after he noticed her shudder. it wasn’t that cold at the moment for him, and it was probably gonna be worse once the sun was set all the way, but nonetheless he put his jacket on her shoulders, his big hands running up and down her upper arms to give her some warmth.

she smiled at the gesture, and tilted her head up, “thank you.”

he reciprocated the smile and took her hand, in the other one holding the bag containing the stolen piece of art. “of course, darling. now let’s go, wanna be back in that motel bed as soon as possible,” he cheekily remarked.

they walked hand in hand till they found the container 258, and knocked three times, as instructed. the shutter was pulled up, a man dressed in a suit, who looked to be in his forties, appearing behind it.

“welcome, you must be the sellers. please, come in.” the unknown man spoke, and she and harry made their way inside.

harry laid the bag carefully on the table, beside a briefcase, previously set down.

“thank you, sir. as per your request by email, the-”

“actually,” harry interrupted, “you didn’t speak with me. she,” he pointed to the girl beside him, who had a stony expression, “is the head of the whole operation, so if you want to explain something to someone, you can do so with her.”

this was also something they were both used to, but that didn’t make it any less annoying. if only they knew they were actually talking to the owl, they’d probably kiss the her shoes.

the deal was over in 5 minutes, the majority of which was spent with the two of them counting the money, making sure every penny was in that briefcase. after confirming so, they barely said goodbye to that sexist prick, and went back to their car.

the drive to the motel was quiet, but not uncomfortably so: harry’s right hand took place on her left thigh as usual, while her arm was stretched behind his headrest, playing mindlessly with his curls, scratching his scalp lightly.

“hey, pretty boy.” she called, a soft smile on her lips.

harry smirked at the nickname, he couldn’t help it, “yes?”

“i really love you,” she softly said, taking her hand away from his hair and moving it to stroke his cheekbone, “you know that?”

harry couldn’t help but feel his tummy warm up at her words, his cheeks getting a bit flushed. “i do know, darling, but thank you for the reminder.” he snickered, “i love you too.” he said, and took his right hand off her leg to grab her hand, planting a soft kiss to her palm, and to every knuckle.

once they finally reached the motel, harry turned off the ignition and turned to face her. his hand took a hold of her jaw, and pressed a kiss against her pouty lips. she sighed into the kiss, a thing that drove harry absolutely crazy.

“what if-” she tried to talk, but was quickly interrupted by harry kissing her again, “we go to the room to-” another kiss, “put down our things and-”, yet another kiss, “then we have a drink at the bar?” she put her hand on harry’s chest to push him a bit further, or else she wouldn’t be able to finish the sentence. “if i’m not mistaken it’s right by the reception. sounds good?”

harry nodded, and to seal his agreement he kissed her once again.

after making their way down from their room into the motel bar, they sat down at the counter, harry’s hand on her back while she climbed on the stool.

the bar was definitely empty, just a couple of old men sat in the corner of the room, a deck of cards between them.

“two old fashioned, please.” harry asked the man behind the counter.

it was a sort of a tradition, getting that drink after a deal: the first time they did a deal together, he was the one suggesting going for a drink, which she — surprisingly to him — did not turn down. once they reached the pub nearby, she ordered an old fashioned, and asked harry what he wanted, to which he answered “the same”, and it became a tradition ever since then.

“oh wait-” she said all of a sudden, which made harry turn his head towards her.

“oh i’m sorry, did you want something else?” he asked, unsure of even his question, since she had never ordered something else.

she quickly shook her head, “no no, don’t worry, i just realized i forgot my phone in our room.” she stood from the stool, “i’m gonna go get it and i’ll be right back, alright?” after she spoke, she left a lingering kiss on his cheek.

harry hummed and with a little smile, he playfully said, “be quick, i’m gonna miss you.”

she returned his smile, and opened the motel bar door, “i’m gonna miss you too, pretty boy.”

harry didn’t think any of it after ten minutes, she probably got caught up on something online, or had to answer to an email right away and couldn’t wait.

he didn’t think any of it after twenty minutes, thinking she may have had a call to make and it was taking a bit longer than usual. he settled on shooting her a message, asking if she was fine. the message was left on delivered.

but after thirty minutes, he needed to check on her. what if she was sick and he was there waiting for her at the bar like an idiot? what if there was a problem and she needed his help, even if she would most likely never admit it?

he left some banknotes on the counter, and rushed his way upstairs.

once he stood in front of the door, his blood run cold: the door was ajar.

something was wrong, very wrong.

carefully, he pushed the door, reaching for his pocket knife; once it was open, his eyes darted around the room, looking for something out of place.

the thing is, it wasn’t that something was out of place, it was that something was missing: her bag, her clothes, her laptop, herself, they were all missing. there was no trace of her, as if she had never been there.

“what-” he rushed in, the door left slightly open behind him. he hastily opened the bathroom door, checking if maybe she was there, but, alas, she was not.

“what the fuck is going on?” harry muttered to himself, so confused that he was sure that his movements weren’t even making sense. his head kept turning from side to side, trying to find something, anything to help him understand what was going on.

he was never one to panic, always been a pretty clearheaded guy in every situation he’s found himself in, but not when his girl was involved, and especially when he was totally in the dark about what had happened.

his eyes finally zeroed in on a piece of paper on the desk.

of course, of course she’d be smart and leave him some sort of trace, so he could find her and get her back.

he stumbled on his steps, his legs wobbling as if made of jelly and with frantic fingers, he opened the piece of paper, which showed just four, short words.

mors tua, vita mea.

“wh-what, no-”, he rambled, shaking his head energetically, choosing not to believe the reality that was downing on him. “no, no, it can’t-” he kept chanting, over and over, but his rambling was cut short.

in his peripherals, he saw the red and blue lights bouncing off the dirty white walls of the motel room, the sound of the police car doors closing and of the steps of the officers coming up the stairs, but the sounds were almost muted, the shock making his ears ring.

the door was pushed open, three officers coming in first, guns blazing, while the others were surely waiting all around the motel, pointing their guns at him through the windows.

“put your hands up! over your head!”

harry robotically obliged, not in control of his body anymore.

“harry styles, you’re under arrest. you have the right to remain silent, anything you say…”.

he didn’t hear the rest of the miranda rights over the sound of the faith he had in her shattering, puncturing his lungs and making it hard to breathe.

—

18 months later.

“styles, you have a visitor.”

harry’s eyes opened at the voice of the guard, the ceiling of his cell staring back at him. those were words he didn’t get to hear often, only two other times, and both times it was always a nosy journalist wanting to write a story about a pretty successful art thief. he laid still, pondering whether to go or stay in his shoe box of a cell for the rest of the day.

“styles, get up. i don’t have all day.”

harry dragged his feet along the corridor, and once he arrived to the designated room, he headed towards the seat the officer pointed. once he sat down, he grabbed the black phone receiver, and didn’t even bother looking at the person standing in front of him, his eyes closed already in annoyance.

“look, if you’re another fucking journalist, i’m not gonna say a word to you, so you wasted your time coming here and i’m asking you to leave.”

the person in front of him hesitated, as he heard a shallow breathe on the other end of the receiver.

“hi, pretty boy.”

harry’s eyes had never opened so fast, and his heart skipped a beat.

no, no, this wasn’t real, this was just his mind playing tricks on him: stupid, fucking horrible and cruel tricks.

the voice didn’t match the exterior: the person in front of him had another haircut, a whole other hair colour, the eyes — the feature he most loved about her — covered by large sunglasses.

but he knew. he knew it was her: the way her lips were set in her natural pout, the shape of her face, the freckle she had at the right corner of her bottom lip.

the way his heart was going out of his chest trying to reach for her.

he was supposed to hate her — and he did, he so did — but the way his nickname fell from her lips lit up something in him, something that no matter how much he wanted it to be dormant, it was still there.

his brain could only manage to ask her the one question that nagged at him ever since that day.

“why.”

he stared at her through the glass, green tired eyes boring into her soul. she knew it was risky, showing up at a prison under yet another false identity, but she knew she couldn’t leave without saying goodbye one last time. one real last time.

so she swallowed harshly, and opened her mouth, keeping her answers short in order not to break down.

“think about the place where you first met me, harry.” she murmured, while his stony expression was staring back at her. “i had no other choice.”

harry chuckled darkly, a grin so deranged that she felt her blood run cold. this answer of hers opened the gate to all the hatred that had been boiling in him for 18 long months.

“that’s such bullshit, and you know it. you had a choice — you fucking did — and you made it. you chose to tip-off the police, you chose to leave your name out of every document, you chose to use a fake identity with me as well, and make it impossible to track you; you chose to pack your bags and steal the car, you chose to leave me behind and letting me take the blame for it.” his voice was laced with venom. “i spent 18 fucking months in this cell, with just one question running through my mind, all day, all night, every day: why did you choose to do this to me.”

“harry, i told you, i had-”

“bullshit!” he screamed, a prominent vein on his neck, while smashing his fist against the plastic glass, over and over again. “you ruined my fucking life, and you have the gall to give me that as the reason why you did it? tell me the truth! tell me the fucking truth! you owe me at least that.”

the volume of his voice and the violence he was hitting the glass with made her stand up and hang up the receiver, scrambling to get away from him before his actions brought too much attention on her as well. three officers had to come in to stop harry from smashing down the glass and jumping on the other side of the window, and had to drag him away whilst he was still fighting with all his strength, his legs kicking and arms flailing trying to be freed, his voice repeatedly shouting just one word, over and over: why.

nine days later, harry found himself moved to a facility of a higher security rank: his violent act during the visit wasn’t an isolated episode, and basically opened the door to a side of harry that he never knew. he never knew such anger in his life.

the guard guiding him stopped in front of the nth same looking cell.

“bradford, your new roomie is here.” the guard sarcastically said, making harry want to punch his face in, but unable to do so because of the cuffs on his wrists.

the man laying in the bunk barely scoffed and glanced at harry while he was walking into his new “home”.

once the guard went away, bradford turned to harry and looked him up and down, then returned to stare at the ceiling. harry could perhaps even manage to put up with the guy, if he always kept this quiet, but he felt like at least an introduction was to be done, to be the least civil. “‘m harry, harry styles. and you are?”

his new cellmate groaned softly while standing up, putting his legs down from the bunk.

“i’m bradford, chris bradford. and i know exactly who you are.”

harry was definitely dumbfounded, “what? how do you-?”

“your case was all over the news, even inmates got to know about it. but most of all, i know you because i’ve been you.”

harry’s confusion must’ve been displayed clearly on his face, because chris just scoffed and kept on talking.

“we’ve been framed by the same person." he murmured, "and we’re gonna take her down together.”

—

the latin phrase mors tua vita mea, of medieval origin, means “your death, my life” (or: “your death (is) my life”).

beyond the dramatic tone of the literal sense, this expression is used when within a competition or in the attempt to reach a goal there can be only one winner: the saying indicates that the failure of one is an indispensable prerequisite for the success of another.

—

taglist: @a-strange-familiar @stilesissaved @harrysonlylover @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @kittenhere @neverstaisfied

–

please, let me know what you think and please, please reblog! thank you so much for being here, it means the world <3 also, just a little fyi, there's no plan for a part 2!

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic rec #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles x y/n #harry styles writing #getaway car #harry styles x you #my writing #harry styles story #harry styles imagine

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alrightbuckaroo · 3 months

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Happy Sunday, everyone! Hope the sun is shining wherever you are :) Thanks for the tags @carlos-in-glasses, @welcometololaland, @sznofthesticks, @heartstringsduet, @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut, @carlos-tk, @orchidscript, @paperstorm, @strandnreyes, @lemonlyman-dotcom, @freneticfloetry, and @janto4ev! I've been steady working on the Time Loop AU so here's a little something from that:

Carlos assumes his frustration is born out of the trickle of thoughts that started to flow during his drive over. He's been forced to remember everything he's had to unlearn because of this break-up.

He had to unlearn waking up and being greeted by the sun before ever opening a blind. He had to unlearn making dinner for two at table that’s too big for one. He had to unlearn how to say the name “Tyler” with a song in his voice.

Carlos had to unlearn what it meant to feel safe with someone; with another man, and he doesn’t know if he can ever truly forgive TK for that.

When he pulls into the hospital parking lot, he decides it’s best that he gets a handle on his emotions.

At the end of the day, TK is hurt; and while Carlos is too, it isn’t about him. He shouldn’t create a scene even though every act of this play hasn’t been written in his favor.

open tag + no pressure tag under the cut :)

@reyesstrand, @theghostofashton, @thebumblecee, @three-drink-amy, @lightningboltreader, @louis-ii-reyes-strand, @bonheur-cafe, @basilsunrise, @never-blooms, @redshirt2, @sanjuwrites, @ambiguouspenny, @herefortarlos, @your-catfish-friend and @rmd-writes

#had the realization that i'm just writing heartache over and over again why did i do this to myself 😭#god forbid this show give them like a romantic mountain getaway to live over and over again #fic: love can pull you out of yesterday #seven sentence sunday

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decepti-thots · 7 months

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I have filled another @tfanonkink prompt! And finally I invented a new pairing tag for my extremely unhinged rarepair. (A little elaboration on content notes in the authors' note for this one, folks.)

Link on AO3.

#valveplug #fic #my fic #minimus ambus #getaway #idw

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feelingsaph · 6 months

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To anyone who's a swiftie and watches Saiki K, don't you think Kubosai is so Reputation coded??? They've got that rugged exterior but a soft and quiet kinda love on the inside.

And they've both got big reputations (that they're tryna flee lol)

#someone please validate me #i swear i hear getaway car playing while reading welcome to the shitshow by oatmealcrisp #i need a new years day fic for kubosai #shoutout oatmealcrisp and fluffydice i love yalls fics #their hurt/comfort dynamic makes me froth in the mouth raaahhhhh #saiki k #kubosai #aren kuboyasu #the disastrous life of saiki k.#saiki kusuo #by saph

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sgt-seabass · 2 years

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𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘

— You stand up to Bucky after he’s been bothering you for weeks.

pairing: dark!mean!bucky barnes x reader w/c: 1,640 this is a dark fic. 18+ only. part of my (closed) lake house getaway. warnings: dark fic, bucky being mean and degrading, face slapping, spitting, manhandling, allusion to sexual content a/n: based off the prompt ‘bucky barnes + nerdy reader + degredation’. i wrote this on a plane sorry if it’s shit. not beta read.

Bucky was doing it again.

You didn’t know why the man had fixated on you, but not long after being transferred to work in the Avengers operations room, the supersoldier had started coming in every chance he got.

It was unusual. Typically, the analysts were left alone without the need for superhero supervision, yet Bucky often came and just watched.

He didn’t say anything, just stared, mostly at you and your work. Sometimes Steve joined him too, and they’d just chat casually while Bucky kept an eye on you.

At first, you’d felt terrible for Bucky. Maybe he was looking for a friend after everything he’d been through. Everyone knew the story of the recovering Winter Soldier and how he was now working with the rest of the Avengers to do something good. He might just be looking to make some new connections.

But one day, you’d seen a female peer approach and sit with him. But he’d quickly rejected her company. You didn’t know what he said, but she left with her tail between her legs.

None of your co-workers mentioned anything about it or talked about how he’d stare at you, and it made you feel insane. Maybe you were making an issue out of nothing.

But it put you on edge and made you feel like you were always doing something wrong.

Your anxiety was bad enough without someone breathing down your neck.

It was beginning to bother you to the point where you couldn’t get your tasks done, and your work meant everything to you, so you did the most unlikely thing.

You turned to Bucky with a huff, swivelling your chair around with an attitude. “If you don’t have any comments or constructive criticism, Mr Barnes, could you please leave me be to do my job?”

A few other analysts in the room looked at you in shock before turning back to their work. You never spoke up, just kept your head down and got the job done, and you especially never spoke up against an Avenger.

Something changed in Bucky’s expression. Like he’d been waiting for the moment you finally talked to him.

To your horror, Bucky laughed at you in front of everyone. He might as well have slapped you.

Hot embarrassment flooded your face as you cowered a little, but you kept your intense gaze on him.

“Huh, so you do have a voice after all. About time. And that’s Sergeant to you, doll.” Bucky came closer, and you backed your chair against the desk. He cornered you, towering over you while you tried to hold firm.

“Sergeant Barnes, my statement stands.” Your voice wavered, and Bucky smirked. “I’m not under performance review, and you’re not my supervisor. So, please let me just do my job.”

Bucky considered you for a moment before he leant over, placing one hand on either of your armrests and boxing you in. Your breath hitched at the proximity, and it only made the heat from your cheeks spread further down your neck. And down to your core. The beefy man was even more attractive up close.

“I’ve been letting you do your job, haven’t I? And you’re damn good at it too.”

The compliment caught you by surprise, and it had you stuttering. “Th-Thank you.. Sergeant.”

“But you’re a bit of a fucking nerd, aren’t you?” Bucky’s voice dropped an octave lower, his breath warm against your face.

You blinked, unsure how to cope with the whiplash of his comment. “Excuse me?”

“You sit on your computer all day, and then when you go home, you either sit on your laptop learning more about coding or play video games. That is, when you’re not touching yourself to some B-grade porno.”

“How... How do you know what I do at home?” You whispered, tears welling in your eyes.

“I know everything about you. Steve said I should find a hobby, and well, that happens to be you. I’m fascinated how such a pretty girl could become such a loser. It’s such a shame, really.”

“Go fuck yourself.” You snarled. Unsure how to even process what was happening, you got up from your chair, pushing Bucky aside to rush for the bathroom where you could just have a chance to breathe.

But Bucky was close on your tail, slinking after you and grabbing your forearm before you could enter the women’s room.

The tears that were threatening to spill over began to trickle down your cheeks, and when you looked up at Bucky, you were a deer caught in headlights.

His blue eyes were completely dark, desire written all over his face.

It felt like he could eat you alive just by looking at you.

He ushered you into the nearest vacant meeting room, pushing you until your legs hit the boardroom table.

You pushed him away from you, although your efforts did nothing as Bucky stood firm. “You’re an asshole.”

“I was just waiting to see how long it would be ‘til you snapped at me so I’d have a reason to teach you a lesson. I bet you’re a real teacher’s pet, huh? Yeah, I could teach you a thing or two.”

“Bucky—“

You gasped when Bucky slapped you across the face with his flesh hand, the pain registering immediately as your tears began to fall faster.

“I told you to call me Sergeant, you stupid slut. I haven’t even fucked you yet, and you’re going dumb on me.” His metal hand wrapped around your throat, forcing you to lower until your knees hit the scratchy carpet.

“Please.. Just leave me alone..” You begged, but Bucky just spat in your face, using his free hand to smear his saliva over your face while you whimpered and squirmed.

It was like he was getting high off his control over you, wanting to push you until you broke and shattered.

“C’mon, I’ve seen what you watch. Dumb little babies getting fucked by their daddy. You want me to dress you up all pretty and make you cum on my cock, don’t you?” Bucky’s grip on your throat tightened, and your oxygen was quickly cut off.

You knew you should yell and tell him that he was wrong and should go fuck himself, but his words ignited a fire in your core that you couldn’t ignore. You wanted it. More than anything.

“Well, here’s the thing. You don’t fucking deserve it. You have to prove how much of a good girl you are.”

Bucky watched as your brows furrowed, the wordless question in the air. What had you done wrong? How had you been anything but good? But Bucky was too far gone, taunting you meanly even if you hadn’t done anything.

You wondered if this was how Hydra treated him, and you’d just become a body for him to wreak his revenge on. An outlet for his pain. An easy target.

“You know the best thing about super senses? I can fucking smell how wet you are from here. You’re such a fucking whore, but you’re going to be my whore, aren’t you?” You wheezed out the last of your air in protest, mind going fuzzy as Bucky didn’t relent. “Yeah, yeah, you are. Put your hands on my cock like a dumb baby, and I’ll let you breathe.”

You raised your weak limbs, the world getting dark at the edges as you palmed Bucky’s clothed groin, a whimper sounding from how big and hard he was.

His cock twitched underneath the fabric, and his metal hand finally released, allowing you to gulp in large amounts of air.

You cried when he spat on your face again, flinching away. But Bucky was fast, grabbing your chin in a bruising grip and forcing you to look up at him. “No hiding away.”

Bucky took a seat in one of the armchairs, legs spread wide so you sat between his thick thighs. “Open wide.”

You knew you should be running away – but you’re captivated and scared of what Bucky would do to you if you tried to flee. So, despite your better judgement, you opened your mouth.

Bucky tutted, frowning at you. “Is that really the best you can do?”

You tried to open wider, but he just shook his head with a sigh.

His disappointment egged you on, and you opened your mouth as far as possible, ignoring the strain on your jaw.

“That’s better. God, you’d really do anything I told you to, wouldn’t you? So eager to please. I bet if I told you to bark, you’d actually fucking do it.” Bucky hummed, placing his thumb in your mouth and pressing down on the wet muscle as if he were inspecting you.

You grabbed his thighs, fingers digging into the fabric of his tactical pants as your jaw ached. Bucky could see you struggling to keep your mouth open while he moved your head around aimlessly, playing with you.

After what felt like forever, Bucky let you go, and you rubbed the side of your jaw as you closed your mouth. “Buck— I mean, Sergeant. Can I go home now, please? I did what you asked. And I won’t report you if you just let me go.”

“You won’t report me?” Bucky questioned with a quirked brow. “Oh sweetheart, for a smart girl, you really do say such stupid things. You really think anyone will believe you when I tell them you jumped me, trying to have sex with me?”

“B-But that’s not true!” You tried to stand, but Bucky pushed you back down by your shoulders.

“Too fucking bad, princess.” The clink of Bucky’s belt being undone filled the room, and you watched in horror as he began freeing his erection from the confines of his pants. “Now, if you want to keep your job, be a good girl and suck your Sergeant’s cock.”

To be updated on when I post please follow @sgt-seabass-library and turn on post notifications.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark fic #marvel #mcu #ambswrites #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #dark bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x you #2k lake house getaway

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