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etfrin · 10 months

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⤷❝The Study | Coriolanus Snow❞ˎˊ-

⇢☾Warning: NSFW | riding, toxic relationship, arranged marriage, mentions of cheating (no actual cheating occurs), riding, dom sub undertones, degradation (he calls you a slut once), hair pulling, edging if you squint, crying, pinv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), creampie, dry humping, clothed sex (you were still wearing a dress) | lmk if I forgot anything!

⇢☾Pairing: young president! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

⇢☾Summary: A video of you flirting with an elitist goes viral and Snow calls you to his study to confront you about it and it ends up in sexy times ;)

⇢☾A/N: btw for those who doesn't get why Snow asked reader to mark him, it's to show the Capitol that despite rumors, they are actually very close. And uhmm I hope you guys like this!

< masterlist > < bc: @cafekitsune >

< tags: @roryzzz @stelleduarte @strengthandstay @skywalker1dream >

The marriage was a facade, a show for the Capitol that the president didn't stand alone. The people in the manor were the only people who knew how fake the marriage was. Some of the elite of the Capitol could also tell. People can fake everything but not love, never love.

You learned early on Snow wasn't capable of love. A lover wouldn't do half of the atrocities Snow committed as he got to power but he had never done anything to you. You didn't exist for him in the manor and he was always respectful when you were by his side.

It was manageable, the life you had, nobody could mistreat you, not as the First Lady of Panem. However mistreatment and flirting are very different things, and the people of Capitol aren't a stranger to wandering hands and lustful eyes.

You didn't think Coriolanus would mind that you sometimes let the hands linger. That you would bask in the attention you were so deprived of from your husband. You were proven wrong as a video of you and an elitist was going viral all over the Capitol.

You didn't cheat on Snow, but you were too close to the stranger. His hand on your waist and your smile too wide. Cheating or not, it wasn't any less inappropriate.

A remainder by your servant made you walk to the study in which Snow spent most of his time. You were wearing a knee-length white dress, something that clings to your curves. It was a desperate, pathetic attempt to distract Snow. A part of you knew it wouldn't work and would make your mistake more obvious but it was an attempt better than none.

You knocked at the door and you could hear him say come in. So you did. Your hands are behind your back, and your eyes look at the floor like it's the most interesting thing in the world.

“Do you know what you have done?” He asked, you still couldn't look up to meet his gaze. Your fingers fumble behind your back as you bite your inner cheek. You give him a nod.

“And what have you done?” He questioned, his voice like the calm before the storm. “I created unnecessary gossip that isn't good for your reputation,” you mummer.

“What else?” He said, his tone suspicious and waiting for the confirmation. That's when you look up at the most beautiful demon you have ever seen. He looked all glorious with his suit and hair slicked back. “I didn't cheat,” you said, firmly, your eyes fierce and reflecting the truth of your words.

When Snow didn't reply, you insisted again, “I. Didn't. Cheat. It's a line I will never cross, Coriolanus.” Again, he didn't say anything, instead, his gaze went up and down your body, his expression unreadable. You flushed from his stare, not sure if wearing this dress was the right move after all. The man had always surrounded himself with those stupid white roses and this was the symbol that you had noticed.

“Come and sit.” You begin to walk towards the chair only to be interrupted by his words, “No, not there, in my lap.” You freeze from his words, but your brain tells you to obey his every word.

You make your way to him, your heels clicking against the marble floor. Your hands are sweaty and your heart is in your throat. You reach him before you straddle him without a word being uttered. Your dress hitching up to your thighs. Your hands around his shoulders as you wait for further instructions from your husband.

“What do you think we should do to make the rumors go away?” He asked, his voice deep and so seductive. You weren't even sure he realized the effect his voice had on you. You let out a small gasp when his hands held your hips, cementing your place in his lap.

His hands were warm and perhaps maybe it was biased but you thought they would be ice cold. Instead, his palm laminated heat against the thin fiber of your dress making your skin warm. Your former flush turns into a deeper shade of red.

“We could…” you couldn't focus, how could you when he was touching you like this? When he was so close. He was never this close to you before. Ever. His touch reminded you of the fact that despite everything he is a man and your husband at that. A demon in human flesh.

“We could do more PR,” you mumbled. He raised an eyebrow at the suggestion. “I mean if we do it right, I am sure it will work,” you fumbled. He gives you a nod.

“Take off my shirt,” he demanded. Your eyes widen and you hesitate. “Do it or I’ll make you.” he threatened and you know not to take his words lightly. With shaky fingers, you unbutton his shirt. The process was slow, meticulously slow. His toned physique comes into complete view, making your breath hitch. Fuck, he was a Greek God of tragedy and sin.

“Mark me up,” he said, his tone emotionless. “What?” you questioned, surprised. “You think you’re acting innocent?” he sneered, “You heard what I said, my wife. It's because of your suggestion. Mark. Me. Up.”

You swallow down your nervousness and bring your lips forward to his cheek. You pressed a soft kiss there and felt him tense underneath you. You drag your lips to his jaw and nip the skin, the tip of your tongue soothing the small teeth mark as he lets out a grunt. It was music to you. A masterpiece of symphony and you needed more, so much more. Snow had you deprived for months and it's time to take.

Your lips continue to nip at his jaw, placing sloppy wet kisses as his breaths get heavy. You moved down to his neck, a moan leaving your lips as you attacked his skin with your teeth. Sucking onto his pulse point and moaning when the salty taste of his skin hits your taste buds. Your hand goes to his neck, tilting his head to give you more access. All the while he lets out quite controlled sounds. You licked his Adam's apple before wrapping your mouth around it to suck a purple bruise. Marking him up just as he wanted.

His hand on your waist gave you a firm squeeze which made you bite harder and made him hiss. You lean back panting, as you admire your artwork of teeth marks and red love bites. You pressed down into him and moaned as his hard bulge pressed right against your clothed cunt. Your panties were soaked by now. “Snow,” you whimper.

“Corio, call me Corio” he whispered. His eyes briefly turned to a white bouquet of roses before he met your gaze. You didn't think much of it and whispered, “Corio.”

“Corio,” you tried the name again on your tongue and watched his eyes darken. You leaned in, your lips brushing against his. “Let me kiss you. Let me make you my husband, please,” you whispered.

You waited for a verbal answer but all you got was another squeeze on your waist. You were desperate enough to take what you could get. You started by grinding against his bulge. The juices that made your panties soaked are now ruining his pants.

You let out a breathless moan as you gained delicious friction against your pussy but it wasn't enough. There's no hell and heaven for which this would be enough. You crashed your lips to his. The kiss was all carnage and desire. Uncoordinated, something so unlike Snow Corio that it made you moan into his mouth. Your hands are in his hair, pulling him closer. Your lips glide against each other perfectly. His tongue took over your mouth, not leaving any place unexplored, untouched by him.

You break the kiss with a gasp. Your hand going towards his pants to unzip. The motion stopped as Corio held your wrist and you looked up at him. “You’re my wife, you're my right,” he said, “but do you deserve it?”

It was more than a question, it was a promise waiting to be made, a bond waiting to be sealed. “I…” you begin to speak, you meet his eyes, sea blue you wanted to drown in, “Never again, Sn- Corio. Never again.” “Please,” you added for extra measure. You had his taste already, no one else could ever compare. He had to know that too because he gave you a sharp nod.

You get up from his lap, taking off your panties first, not bothering with the dress. You knew he liked it now, more than you thought so he would. You find your rightful place in his lap again, his pants and boxers past his knees.

His cock was hard and twitching, the length had an angry tip with its slit profusely leaking pre-cum. It looked painful and it was because of you. You. You wondered if you had power over him now for a brief second but you shake your head clear of these thoughts.

Instead, you catch his lips again, the kiss slower this time. You raise yourself a bit so his cock can align itself to your entrance. Your dress is raised to help you. Even if his cock was on the girthy side with veins on the underside of his cock. You knew your pussy would stretch around him, that your walls would be a splendid fit around his length. You were too impatient for any sort of foreplay, you wanted the stretch, you wanted him to make you dizzy with his cock splitting you apart.

You let out a whimper as you began to sink onto his cock, your eyes flicked to him and his eyes were zeroed down to the place you both were connected now. His hands are on either side of your hip, guiding you down on his length. It was after his cock was fully stuffed in you, that his self-control allowed him to let out a groan.

“I respected you like a lady but sluts don't deserve respect,” he said, his lips parted as he let out a heavy pant. You let out a whimper, your mind hazy as your cunt tries to get used to his length. “I.. am sorry,” you whine, how many times do you need to repeat? When will he be satisfied with your apology?

“Prove it,” he said with a smirk, “Prove that you deserve to be my wife and the First Lady of Panem.”

You follow Corios’ command. Your hands are on his shoulders to support yourself. Your fingers fist his shirt as you begin to ride him. Raising yourself a few inches before slamming down on his cock with a loud moan escaping your lips. He reached the deepest spot inside of you like this. His cockhead grazing your spongy spot as you fucking yourself on his cock. Your arousal and his pre-cum being smeared all over your thighs.

The sight made his breath hitch, something you didn't notice as you were too busy with your eyes closed and taking his cock like a good wife. You looked completely debauched like this, your hair wild, your lips red and swollen, your hands digging into his shoulder. Your nipples are hard and obvious through the white dress.

He wasn't supposed to lose control, this was happening for a reason. No matter how many deem him God or devil in the end he was a man. And no man is perfect. He pulled you closer to him. One of his hands is on your back, pressing you to him. Another of his hands in your hair, tugging the strands without a care about how rough he is being. It makes you moan, your head on his chest now. His hips raise upwards to fuck you as he now lets out more vocal sounds of enjoyment.

His pace was slower than yours. Each thrust of his was made for his indulgence in your velvet walls. The drag of his cock was perfect, his speed however was making you feel insane. You needed him, faster, harder. Used would be a much more correct term. You wanted to be used by your husband. And right now, you were but it wasn't enough.

You let out mewls and whines to make him break his languid pace but Corio gives you no mind. His fingers interlanged in your locks, his hand still pressing you in and his strength made it so you couldn't take control. He was drunk in the pleasure your pussy gave, his head resting on his headrest, his lips parted to let out a grunt with every thrust.

You weren't a person for him, not right now, a fleshlight perhaps. It didn't matter what you felt, it mattered what Snow felt. Snow felt amazing, he felt stupid for denying himself this for months on end. He would never make the same mistake again.

Time passes and you don't know how long Corio has you like this, your nerves raw as your pussy impossibly sensitive. Tears were falling from your eyes and staining his shirt but moans slipped your lips every time he pushed in again.

“Corio, please,” you try to plead, raising your head to look at him. “Please, please can't anymore.” He turns his head to you, his fingers that you seemed to have forgotten were in your hair tugging your strands roughly.

That was it. You gasp out as the pain becomes a trigger to make you cum on his cock, your pussy tightening around his cock like a vice as the orgasm washes over your body. It was intense and you had snapped. “Sorry! Sorry!” You begin to sob, “I won't ever look at a man that's not you! Sn- Corio please!”

His languid thrust had sped up, his arms caging you to his chest. The last thing you heard before he spilled his seed inside of you was, “Snow lands on top.”

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navybrat817 · 9 months

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Indulgence

Pairing: Dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub!Female Reader Summary: When Bucky calls, you go to him. Word Count: Over 5.7k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, D/s elements, bondage, aftercare, established arrangement, insecurities, pet names, longing, possessive behavior, world building, mix of canon and non-canon, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I'm very excited for this new AU, lovelies! There's a deep bond between these two, but we know the road to love isn't always easy. ❤️Beta read by the amazing @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. And thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer for listening to me ramble about this part. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You had only been asleep for an hour when your phone went off, your eyes barely open as you reached for the device and saw the familiar name appear. “Bucky?” You answered drowsily.

“Hey, angel,” he said roughly, the pet name bringing a sleepy smile to your face. It sounded like he hadn't gotten much sleep either. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“It’s okay. I have tomorrow off,” you said, a bit more alert as you sat up. “Are you at your apartment?”

“Yeah, I got back a bit ago,” he replied, swearing under his breath. “It’s really late. I just…”

“Need me,” you finished for him, stretching your back as you stood up. If he wanted to tell you he made it home safely from his latest assignment, he would've sent you a text. You knew by now that a call meant he had to see you in person. “Give me a few minutes?”

“You sure? I understand if you’d rather go back to bed.”

“I’m not going to get any sleep until I know you will, too,” you said. It would drive you crazy. “I want to come over. Okay?”

You wondered if the call dropped since you didn't hear anything on the other end. “Okay. I’ll send a car,” he said. He never let you pay for a ride yourself. “Thank you,” he added so softly you almost missed it.

“You don't need to thank me,” you assured him, though you appreciated hearing it. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he promised, your heart skipping a beat before he hung up.

You brushed your teeth again before you changed out of your pajamas. The outfit didn't exactly matter. If it had, he would’ve told you what you wear. It wouldn't stay on long anyway. You sensed that this was a night for him to simply blow off some steam or release anything still pent up from his assignment.

You were more than happy to help.

“On my way.” You messaged him a few minutes later as you went out to the car.

You politely greeted the driver before gazing out the window. If anyone had told you months ago that you’d be sleeping with the former Winter Soldier, you would’ve laughed at them for saying something so crazy. You never expected to meet the man, let alone connect with him. That was your life now though. You were sleeping with Bucky Barnes.

But it wasn't that cut and dry.

“I’ll be outside.” He sent back.

You smiled to yourself as you thought about Bucky, the man searching for himself again. After years of enduring horrific pain and having no control over his actions, he felt lost once he was free. In his eyes, he would never be able to right all the wrongs of the atrocities he was forced to commit, but making amends for his past was a start. It wasn't enough though to heal the cracks from within. It couldn't stop him from plunging into the deep abyss of his mind where it once felt whole.

He had to find a way to feel semi-normal again. He needed to do something good for someone else outside of his heroic duties. And he had to do so in an environment where he could express himself openly, honestly, and authentically with a person he could trust.

That was where you came into the picture.

If Bucky called, no matter what time of day and you were available, you went to his place in a car he paid for. You stayed until you were both satisfied. A more crude way to think of it was that you helped him fuck out his frustrations and gave him a means to inflict pleasure on someone instead of hurt. It was a routine you were used to by now.

“You wanna be my angel?”

You may be his angel, but you weren't his girlfriend. He wasn't in a place to have a typical relationship. You weren't just a fuck buddy either. You were his submissive of sorts, along with his confidant and a way for him to find release and some sense of normalcy.

While he sometimes fucked you like a whore, he never once treated you like one. He cared for your well-being and checked in on you the way a boyfriend would. He kept his place stocked with your favorite snacks. You didn't sleep with anyone else and neither did he. You looked out for each other.

Unlike your last boyfriend.

As far as arrangements went, you could do much worse. There were rules set in place. Bucky was honest about his needs and helped you heal your wounds from the failure of your previous relationship. But the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to be with him.

Was it a recipe for disaster?

The drive seemed faster than usual because before you knew it the car stopped in front of Bucky’s apartment building. Your pulse quickened when you saw the brunette standing by the door, donned in his usual leather jacket. Even from a short distance, he looked massive and heat bloomed in your core as you knew what was to come. He moved to the curb with more grace than a man his size should have, his hard blue eyes set on you through the glass before he opened the door.

His gaze practically set your heart on fire and it went full ablaze when he tenderly smiled. He was stunningly beautiful even in the dark of night. It almost hurt to look back at him.

You had it bad.

“Hey,” he said, offering you his gloved hand to help you out. You hardly ever saw him out without his vibranium hand covered. “It’s good to see you.”

“Hey,” you smiled softly, giving the driver a quick thanks before you got out. “You, too.”

Bucky's large hand moved to the small of your back as he gently led you toward the building and opened the door. He didn't like to linger outside for too long. Neither of you spoke as he guided you to his apartment on the first floor and you didn't push him to make small talk. It was a delicate arrangement and some nights didn't call for filler.

Still, you tried to get a read on his emotions. There was a stiffness to his stance, but he didn't appear upset or angry. You also didn’t spot any obvious injuries.

“Were you hurt?” You asked as he took his keys out. He was only gone for a couple of days, but you knew how dangerous the missions were.

He turned and stared at you, not at all surprised by your question since you always asked. “No, I didn’t get hurt,” he assured you, reaching up to scratch at the stubble on his chin. “But I can't exactly talk about it either. I’m sorry.”

You nodded in understanding. It was information you weren't privy to and you doubted he called tonight to talk about it anyway. He peeled back layers of himself, yet there was so much underneath that you didn't know about. You cared for him regardless.

“Bucky, you don't have to apologize for that,” you reminded him.

“I just feel bad. You can tell me about your work, but I can't always talk about mine,” he said, looking both ways before he poked his head into his apartment.

“My job isn’t as ‘exciting’ as yours,” you teased before he let you in.

Bucky had a nice place. The partially exposed brick walls paired well with the hardwood floors. Tasteful, but not extravagant. The thick curtains in the living room matched the drapes in his bedroom. Since he occasionally slept on the floor by the oversized chair, it helped to block out the sun. He didn't have much as far as decor, but he did have a piece of art that his best friend, Steve, drew hung up in the hall.

He also had a bowl that you made on the console to hold his keys, which he promptly set them in.

It meant something that he even let you into his apartment when others close to him had never been invited.

“Need anything to drink?” He asked, slipping his jacket and glove off.

He had an empty glass waiting on the kitchen island in case you did. While you indulged in a drink now and then, he wouldn't allow you to have too many. He refused to have sex with you if you were inebriated. Said it took consent away and you wouldn't be alert enough to use a safeword if necessary.

He wouldn't budge on that rule.

“No, thanks,” you answered, gazing at him.

His T-shirt strained against his biceps, one flesh and one vibranium. You could still smell his cologne from the small distance across the room, amber and cedarwood. Warm, comforting, dominating. All the things he was to you.

Not the monster he sometimes believed himself to be.

You eyed him as he poured himself a shot of whiskey, the need to soothe him coming forward when you caught a distant look in his eyes. He didn't even make a move to down his drink as he set his hands on the counter and stared off. Maybe he couldn't give you the details about what happened, but you could take care of him.

Because as much as he sometimes had to have control over you, both of you had power in your relationship.

“Bucky?” You gently called out, pulling him from his trance. “You can talk to me, even if you have to keep some things to yourself.”

His shoulders dropped as he sighed. “Three months.”

“I'm sorry?”

“Three months since we started this,” he answered.

You realized he was right when you remembered the date. It felt longer yet still brand new. “Yeah. Three great months,” you smiled.

A knot formed in your stomach when he didn't smile back. “And you still feel safe with me?” He asked, gripping the counter so hard you thought it might crumble in his hands. “You really trust that I won’t hurt you?”

Your smile slipped, the questions like a punch to the gut as you walked toward him. You stopped a foot in front of him to give him some breathing room as he made eye contact. Where had that come from? What happened to make him question that?

“Of course, I feel safe. Not only do I feel safe with you and trust you, I know that you won't hurt me. You will always take care of me,” you said with fierce determination, yet with a vulnerability you couldn't hide. “If I didn't believe that, I wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t submit to you.”

You told him the same thing the day you two agreed on this arrangement. He wasn't your boyfriend, but he wasn't like your ex. He wouldn't just throw you away without a second thought or ignore your needs. You also had faith in him that he wouldn't harm you.

And as much as you trusted him, he trusted you that much more. If he didn't, he wouldn't have called you in the first place. That meant he still trusted himself around you.

He looked away and asked above a whisper, “Do you still think I'm a good man?”

“Yes,” you replied without hesitation, your heart aching when his jaw clenched. “Bucky, look at me, please.”

He slowly made eye contact with you, a storm swirling in his stare.

“You are a good man,” you stated, needing to reach the part of him that believed it. “And it doesn't matter how many times you ask me that, my answer isn't going to change. Ever.”

Bucky was silent, his breathing the only sound in the space. You were worried that you said the wrong thing before he pushed himself away from the counter. Instead of moving back when he approached, you stood firm, ready to brace the storm. You sometimes felt like a mouse confronted by a lion when he got close, but it sent a thrill through you. Because you meant what you said.

You trusted him and he made you feel safe.

“I just had to hear you say it,” he whispered as he cupped your face.

A fire lit within you as Bucky captured your mouth with his. There was care and tenderness beneath the hunger and you found yourself clinging to his arms as you kissed him back. No one before him had ever kissed you with such desire, such passion. It had you chasing his lips when he pulled away too soon.

“Now go to my room, get undressed, and kneel on the bed facing the headboard,” he ordered, his voice low and allowing the words to sink in just in case you had any objections. Because he was done talking and ready to play.

So were you.

It took you a moment to answer since you had to bite back a whine. “Yes, Sir,” you whispered, feeling his eyes on you as you walked to his bedroom.

You focused on keeping your breathing even as you shed your clothes, taking a moment to fold them before you set them on the chair in the corner. The only time you left your garments on the floor was if Bucky put them there or had you put on a show for him. It was his space and you respected it.

He hadn't told you how long to wait for him, but your heart thumped as you knelt on the queen sized bed. You didn’t see any toys as you glanced around, but there was water, snacks, wipes, and the soft blanket you loved waiting on the nightstand. It took a moment for you to spot that there was a blindfold and scarf on top of the blanket. Your womb clenched in anticipation, an exquisite feeling knowing your patience and obedience would reward you.

Bucky walked through the door a minute later and shut it behind him. The energy shifted completely, both of you ready for each other. As much as you wanted to lift your gaze and look behind you, you kept your eyes downcast as he approached the bed. He cupped your cheek once he was close enough and forced your eyes to meet his.

“My beautiful angel,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along your skin as you glowed from the praise. He reached for the scarf and ran his fingers across the silk as he glanced at you. “As much as I hate to cover those beautiful eyes of yours and restrain you, I want you to concentrate on my touch tonight. Just let me have you.”

A shiver rolled down your spine as you nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Hands behind your back,” he said, moving to secure them once you did so. The silk was soft against your skin, almost as soft as the kiss to your shoulder. After years of being restrained, you knew he felt guilty at times taking your control away. The difference was you gave yourself to him willingly. “Tell me your safewords.”

“Green is good. Yellow to pause,” you stated, testing the scarf. He never bound you too tight, but it was enough that you couldn’t slip your wrists free. “Red to stop."

“Good girl,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You turned your head a fraction so he could slot his lips properly over yours. Gentle, yet hot enough to melt your insides. “My good girl.”

He maneuvered you so you were in the middle of the bed and spread your knees a bit further apart. He joined you on his knees, still fully clothed. Casting your gaze down again, you bit your lip when you saw the prominent bulge in his pants. A hand came up to grasp your chin before you could stare for too long and lifted your head. If you were still wearing your panties, they would’ve dampened from his darkened gaze.

“So beautiful and all mine tonight,” he said.

“I’m yours, Sir,” you whispered, the word “always” unspoken.

“And I know you were staring,” he smirked, his fingers working the button and zipper of his jeans. His impressive cock sprang free once he pushed his underwear and pants down far enough and you wished you could lean down and swirl your tongue around the large head. “Greedy angel. Just desperate to have my cock in you.”

“Yes, Sir. Please,” you begged.

He made a show of lifting the blindfold before he slipped it over your head, your body tensing up when your world went dark. Sight was one of the senses you relied on the most. It helped you absorb most of the world around you. And now it was temporarily gone. It felt like your heart would burst from your chest as you breathed a bit heavier. But Bucky was there, softly touching your face until you relaxed.

“Breathe, angel. I’ve got you,” he whispered, drawing a gasp from you when his lips touched yours. His hands mapped your body, brushing along your breasts down to your thighs. You felt him everywhere. “Color?”

“Green,” you whispered as a hand moved around your back and forced you to arch. He was careful not to hurt your arms. “Please.”

Your head fell back with a moan as his lips closed around your nipple. You could practically feel that he looked up at you as he gently suckled. A wave of arousal crashed through you as he pinched the other. No one had ever lavished your body with such attention the way Bucky did.

“I love seeing you like this,” he murmured against the swell of your breast. “Helpless. Trembling. Needy.”

You didn't mean to let such a wanton moan escape, but he made you feel needed. He made you feel wanted. It was a beautiful thing to surrender to him.

“And I love that I'm the one you trust to take care of you.”

“I trust you with my life, Sir,” you moaned.

And your heart, even though he had the power to break it.

Your chest suddenly felt colder when Bucky pulled his mouth and hand away and you shook from the loss of his heat. His vibranium hand touched your torso to remind you he was close when he shifted closer to you on the bed. You gasped when he dragged his hand down and you were helpless to do anything but feel when it slid between your legs.

“You're doing so well for me,” he said, his teeth grazing your neck as his fingers spread your sopping folds. He teased you, letting you soak his metal fingers as you mewled. He lightly bit you again when he replaced his fingers with his cock, sliding along your slit, but not pushing inside you just yet. “You want me inside you? You need me to fuck you, don't you? Tell me.”

Your cheeks flamed as you whined. “I need you to fuck me, Sir,” you said, trying to widen your thighs to take him in more.

“I will. I'm going to give you everything you need,” he rumbled, gripping your hips with strong and capable hands to keep you still. “And you’re going to let me ruin your pretty little pussy with my cock.”

You panted with want at his possessiveness. Filthy words were something you never thought you’d hear from someone associated with The Avengers and they kicked your body into overdrive. You ached to have him split you open. “Ruin me, Sir.”

In one swift move he lifted you, pulled you into his lap, and buried himself to the hilt. Your mouth fell open as you let out a cry, every inch of his cock stretching and making itself at home in your welcoming cunt. You couldn't brace yourself on his shoulders with your hands behind your back. You couldn't see the ecstasy in his eyes as he let you adjust to his size, but you didn't have to. Not with the way he dug his fingers in and groaned against your shoulder.

He took you to heaven when he was inside you.

“Color,” he said against your skin, thrusting his hips up once.

“Green,” you moaned, reminding yourself to stay still when you wanted him to move. “So green.”

“Good girl,” he whispered, gently kissing up to your ear. “Keep being good while I bounce you up and down on my cock.”

Your eyes fluttered behind the blindfold as he pulled you up and slammed you back down on his cock. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and your heart beat frantically in your chest. It was difficult to string thoughts together, but they all went back to him and how good he made you feel. How he made you feel beautiful.

Flaws and all.

“It’s like your cunt was made for me, angel. Practically crying all over my cock,” his voice was smoky as sounds of pleasure tumbling from your lips. The next moan was softer when he slid a hand up to your neck, resting it there as the other kept your hips flush against his. “You deserve to feel good because you are good. So fucking good.”

Your lower lip trembled as a sob worked its way to your throat, “Thank you, Sir,” you whimpered before he squeezed.

“And I. Deserve. You.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust. You didn’t have to see his face to know the fury that surfaced. “My angel. Mine.”

It overwhelmed you as he bounced you in his lap, sinking you down onto him again and again. His thrusts were almost unforgiving, but the hand on your throat didn’t tighten anymore. He couldn’t hurt you. He wouldn’t hurt you.

“I’m your angel, Sir,” you moaned as he reduced you to a needy wet mess.

“I wanna tear you apart,” he growled against your lips. “And put you back together so you still feel me when you fucking breathe.”

“Tear me apart, Sir,” you gasped, a plea for him to use you more. Your thighs hit his as he thrust up and all you could do was take it. He touched places inside you no one else could reach, physically and emotionally, and you never wanted it to stop. “Please!”

“Tell me you need me to come inside you and I’ll let you come,” he ordered, the hand on your neck squeezing a fraction. “Say it.”

“Come inside me, Sir,” you begged.

“Bucky,” he breathed against your lips. “Say. My. Name.”

Your next breath was shaky. He always had you call him “Sir” on nights like this. Why was this different?

Your orgasm began to crest, but you couldn’t let go until you gave him what he wanted. And he’d give you what you needed. “Come inside me, Bucky,” you exhaled. “Please.”

He swiped his thumb along your pulse with a deep groan, his cock still driving up into you. “I will after you come,” he promised, his tongue sliding past your parted lips and pulling away all too quickly. “C’mon, angel. Come for me. Show me you’re mine.”

The sob you tampered down earlier resuraced, wrenched from your throat as you came. Your release continued, practically leaking around his cock as tears slid out beneath the blindfold. You were beyond rational thought as pleasure spiraled through you, vaguely aware that he thrust through it to chase his own end.

“Good. Fucking. Girl.” He grunted, pulsing hotly inside you as he filled you up.

Both of you panted as you continued to drift from euphoria, your heart still beating wildly. You were warm, but your body shivered as he lifted you up. Your combined release slid from your aching cunt once he slipped free. You floated and wanted him to catch you, but you couldn’t put your arms around him.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered when you let out a whimper. He made quick work of untying your wrists so he could lay you down properly and wipe away the tears still on your cheeks. “I’m going to take the blindfold off.”

Your eyes stayed shut for a moment when Bucky removed it, but you cracked them open when you wanted to see him. Your vision slowly cleared as you blinked a few times, your mind still floating as he came into view. He called you an angel, but he was the one who had a halo around his head at the moment. A gorgeous angel who had unrightfully had his wings taken away. He smiled like he wanted to eat you alive, but his touch was nothing short of tender when he brought his hand to your face.

“So fucking beautiful. You did so well for me. Fuck, I just wanna clean you with my tongue and fill you up all over again,” he praised as you clenched around nothing and whined. As hot as it sounded, you needed a bit of rest after that. “Not tonight,” he smiled, keeping a hand on you as he grabbed a wipe.

A reason he had everything close by was because you craved his touch after sex. If he ever got too far away, you whimpered and reached for him. It made you feel needy, but he assured you that he needed to keep touching you just as badly.

It just wasn’t fair that he looked so composed.

Bucky continued to shower you with soft praise as he cleaned you up. It didn’t take him long before he wrapped the soft blanket around you, trembles moved through your entire body as he put his arms around you, too. He took aftercare very seriously. It was a way for you to feel cared for and nurtured while allowing your body and brain to return back to normal. He never wanted you to experience negativity or sadness after any sort of session, especially an intense one.

You were aware that he moved you closer in his arms and rested his cheek against the top of your head, but you weren't ready to speak yet. It always took you a minute to come back to yourself and he was never one to rush or push you. If relaxing in his embrace was what it took to return to the world, he was more than content to keep you in his arms.

At least, that was what he told you.

You opened your eyes after a few minutes. Your heartbeat was back to a steady rhythm, but you still weren't ready to move yet. You were warm and safe. Bucky was there to take care of you. But what about him?

Had you taken care of him?

Bucky had a faint smile on his face when you lifted your head, his shoulders relaxed and eyes soft. Like he was at ease with everything around him. “Welcome back, angel,” he whispered, peppering your face with light kisses.

“Hey,” you smiled tiredly, your voice a little hoarse as you brought a hand to his hair, happy that you could touch him again. Judging by the way his eyes slipped shut for a moment before he opened them, he missed your touch, too.

“You okay?”

“I am and so are you. You're okay.” It wasn't a question. Whatever haunted him earlier was gone.

For now.

He didn't tear his gaze away as he reached for the water behind him, which you gratefully accepted as he put it to your lips. “You amaze me, you know? You just came back to yourself, but you're talking about me being okay.”

“Isn’t that why you call me?” You asked with a small frown, taking another large sip. “To help you?”

His brows furrowed. “It’s not just about me. This is about you, too.”

You took one more drink before you could say something stupid. Yes, this was about you, too. How he didn't push too far. How he’d hold you after sex and talk with you because those things were important to you. How he made you feel cherished and wanted for a short while.

You just didn't want to admit that he was a constant in your mind. But would it be so wrong if you did? Even if he’d never date you, didn't he have a right to know how you felt?

Communication was key and you would have to eventually tell him if those feelings persisted.

“It’s about both of us and I just want you to be okay,” is what you said because it was the truth.

He set the water aside and cupped your cheek, his calloused hand a little cool, but nice. You almost wished you could hide from his knowing eyes, but he didn’t press you for more. “I am now,” he said, swallowing a little. “I just couldn't let you see me tonight.”

Worry filled his eyes like he may have upset you, but you shook your head. You had seen his scars, but he was never obligated to show you his body. “You're letting me see you now,” you said, scooting closer as he brought your wrist to his mouth to kiss it.

You thought about how the evening played out. How he asked if you thought he was a good man. How he demanded that you speak his name. And how he said he deserved you. Either something happened while he was gone or someone said or did something to get to him. You wished you knew what it was since he didn’t expand on what had been eating away at him before.

“And before you ask, you didn't hurt me,” you told him, knowing the question was coming. You appreciated that he cared enough to check.

He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Good because I’d never stop hating myself if I did,” he admitted, looking at the ceiling for a moment. “You don't deserve that kind of pain.”

Your heart swelled, not letting any past hurt enter your mind. He made you believe that you deserved better than what you had. It was a good feeling.

“Neither do you. And that's a reason why safewords exist. Both of us can use them,” you reminded him. Like aftercare, he took the words seriously. He listened to you. And if he ever got overwhelmed, he had every right to stop it the same way you did. “So no self-hate tonight.”

He huffed in mock annoyance. “Yes, ma’am. And speaking of self-hate,” he teased, tilting his head to look your way. “I really don’t want to go to therapy tomorrow.”

There was a forced calmness in his blue eyes as you assessed him. “You still don’t like your therapist,” you stated.

One of the conditions of his pardon was that he had to go to therapy. It was meant to help him process his thoughts and past experiences in order to work through them. Though he didn’t tell you what went on in his sessions as it was none of your business, he didn’t keep it a secret from you that the doctor was far from his favorite person.

You wondered if Bucky told her about you.

“What’s there to like?” He asked.

You smiled a little, knowing better than to poke the bear and say she probably wasn't that bad. “Well, being able to speak to someone who provides non-judgemental and empathetic support is one thing.”

“That’s why I like talking to you,” he said, the affection in his voice making your heart skip a beat.

“Oh,” you said, not sure what else to say.

Moments like that made you think he cared. No, that wasn’t right. You knew he cared about you. But hearing things like that made you feel like there was hope for more and he wasn’t ready for that.

Hope was both a wonderful and dangerous thing.

“Have you met anyone else?” He asked suddenly, moving his hand to your back.

It was a question Bucky asked every time he had you over. He said from the start if there was another man in your life that you’d rather be with, someone who could offer you more, he’d step aside. There wasn't anyone else. You didn't want anyone else.

And while it was admirable that he would walk away if that ever changed, your heart ached at the thought that he’d easily let you go. Because at the end of the day he wasn't ready for a relationship. Not yet.

Even if he was, who said he wanted one with you?

“No, I haven't met anyone,” you said, feeling the warm breath of his exhale against your skin as his hand moved up and down your back. It relaxed you more and you found yourself fighting a yawn. “Have you?”

“No,” he chuckled. The crinkles by his eyes made him look carefree. “Not since you saved me.”

You shut your eyes, afraid that tears would well up if you looked at him. “I didn't save you. All I did was buy you a coffee one afternoon,” you whispered dismissively.

That day changed your life.

“I’m going to let that slide since you're sleepy, but I’m going to remind you when you're wide awake that you did a lot more than that,” he spoke. He held you a little tighter when you stayed quiet. You were more tired than you thought. “Get some sleep, angel. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You let your eyes shut at his command. “Thank you for taking care of me, Bucky.”

“Thank you for taking a chance on me.”

There was something else unspoken in the air, but a tender kiss to your forehead stopped you from reading too deeply into it.

In the morning, he’d send you back to your place after he made you breakfast. He’d text you later to make sure you were okay. He would continue to check in and you would do your best not to fall for him more. Because one day he wouldn't need you anymore. You didn't know when that day would come, but tonight you could indulge in the fantasy that Bucky wanted you to be his girl.

Permanently.

I just want these two happy and together. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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blu3n · 1 month

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[ Could you please write something like Jason and her are already in a relationship, but she doesn't know he's Red Hood and she falls and Red Hood catches her and he starts flirting she is all "I have a boyfriend, back up" and she goes back home and tells Jason everything complaining about the Red Hood and Jason sits there with a smirk enjoying her ranting? Maybe she punches him in the stomach and comes home and sees Jason has a matching bruise? Honestly, I leave the writing to the writers..😅 ]

@angel-eyes-777

Author: thanks for asking! 🐞

Description: You had no idea Jason was from Red Hood

For several reasons, Jason wouldn't tell you that he was Red Hood, both to spare you from the atrocities he committed and for fear that you would leave him when you found out what he did.

He would feel bad about it, his mind would be so tight that he would almost speak as soon as you asked him something about it, but he did it to protect you from the evil that he was.

He would cry a lot if you left him, Jason loves you and doesn't want to be left alone again.

When you found out he would freeze, try to stop you from leaving or want your attention on him so you wouldn't stop to think about how violent he seemed.

It was cold in Gotham City, the wind blowing in your face making your skin colder than usual. Your work shift was quite tough, your grumpy boss pulling your foot to deliver piles and piles of work.

Letting out a sigh of discouragement, you try to cross the street, taking a shortcut that was sometimes convenient. So focused on your stress and headache, you couldn't see the huge hole that was in front of you..

.Before you could fall, you felt a pair of firm and strong hands holding you, saving you from falling into that place.

Red hood you look up, observing that familiar face that you saw on TV, usually not frowned upon by society as an anti-hero or something like that.

"We usually look where we're going, gatinha?" Sua voz era sedutora e profunda, faria qualquer garota se apaixonar por ele em um minuto se ele quisesse.

"Thanks for saving me, now I'm going," saying firmly, you walk past him, after all, your boyfriend was waiting for you at home so you could sleep together in a warm bed for another day.

"Hey, what's the rush, baby?" He holds your wrist with his rough and thick fingers, his touch soft.

"I said no, and that's it." When she realized that this guy wouldn't leave you alone, in an act of self-defense she punches him in the stomach, making him grunt in pain and bend over a little.

Without wasting time, you run back home, trying to hurry, you just wanted to go back and see your boyfriend again.

When you walked through the door, you noticed that he had something in his stomach and the TV was on.

Jason looks at you with an amused expression. He never told you about his Red Hood persona, and he managed to hide it surprisingly well throughout your relationship. The TV was on, covering a news story about how Red Hood saved some kids from a burning building.

You stopped and sighed as you walked into the house "I don't have much to say about him, he saved me from falling down the drain but he's still a flirt" she says in disgust

"Well, he saves people, doesn't he?" he says nervously, running his fingers through his hair so as not to look as nervous as he looked.

Following your eyes to his abdomen she frowns and realizes something was wrong, moving slowly towards him you see the same mark on his abdomen. "What?" without even needing to ask properly he already collapses in front of you knowing that you found out.

"i'm sorry- baby please- baby" jason stands up the pain stinging in his stomach he tries to reach out to touch you desperate for you not to leave "please don't leave me..."

"No, no, I won't leave you" your voice soothes him and he holds onto you holding you there...needing your warmth and your love, the rest of the night you two slept together while he clung to you

he loves you.

--------

🪼 Thank you for requesting the writing, and I hope it is what you asked for.

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aanglican · 7 months

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uncle iroh is treated very much like a paragon of virtue in the series. yes we know he has had a violent past, that he has done terrible things, committed atrocities in the service of the fire nation— but we don’t really feel it because all of that had happened off screen and prior to the series. instead, he comes to us as a more perfect being and one deified with secret good deeds revealed throughout the story: uncle iroh is the keeper of the dragons and an important member of the white lotus, he is just that awesome.

uncle iroh is so divorced from his immediate past that we don’t see him haunted by any of it unless it’s by lu ten— which begs the question: did he really turn his back on the fire nation due to a moral awakening or was it only/mostly for his own good? he certainly doesn’t behave in a manner you’d expect from a repentant ex-imperialist: he’s not too worried about walking the streets of ba singe se, let alone actually staying there after the war ended. (the same war he participated in on the side of the aggressors, mind you.) he is shameless enough to be living there while hiding away and was unscrupulous in accepting hospitality from earth kingdom folks who were made refugees by the fire nation, i.e., song’s family. does he not feel guilty or at least uncomfortable with his circumstances, especially since it has only been 5 or so years since the siege at ba sing se and thus still very fresh in the grand scheme of things? is iroh just that Enlightened and At Peace with his past that it doesn’t color his every movement? or is his lack of a moral hangover just a writing oversight? were they scared to make their most lovable character in a rated TV-Y7 cartoon a tad more polarizing?

while uncle iroh does his job well for the story— that is, to act as zuko’s guiding light— i do wish he were knocked off his pedestal a bit more. uncle iroh is, after all, the proto-zuko to ozai’s proto-azula. i wish to see him at least slightly paranoid about people recognizing him from his military days and vice versa. i wish to see him uneasy about being in the earth kingdom (out of guilt? as opposed to zuko’s superiority complex and anger). i wish to see him meet another person who also has visible burn scars, one that has nothing to do with zuko/his family, and still look away in shame or disgust by the implications. et cetera et cetera. anything to indicate he feels something more about himself and other people that isn’t just Wise Old Man.

#mytext #uncle iroh #atla #fire nation #fnrf

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mzzledmutt · 4 months

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—GOOD DOG

starring.ᐟ dabi; touya todoroki x reader

synopsis.ᐟ you are a good dog, a good dog does whatever they're asked to do. isn't that right?

warnings.ᐟ SMUT, fem!reader, boot licking, boot worship, unprotected vaginal sex, d/s dynamics, excessive use of mutt + dog, degradation, praise, oral (m + f receiving), spanking, overstimulation, edging, multiple orgasms, collar + leash

word count.ᐟ 3.1k words

m.mutt 𐂯 this is a little nasty, i had an idea.

THERE’S no reason to look up.

You can feel the cruel, cerulean scowl staring down at your knelt, pathetic form. You don’t dare look up. Keeping your eyes focused on your hands which rested upon your thighs.

The concrete floors beneath you already beginning to bruise your delicate skin. Dabi is standing before you, the only thing in your sight is his heavy leather boots. The room is silent, only making you more unnerved.

“Eyes up.” Slowly, your head raises until you make eye contact. Dabi is clearly unpleased with you. His jaw is tense, eyes narrowed as he looks down at you. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?” His ragged voice is full of ice, something you expected.

Two weeks ago, on a Tuesday, Dabi suddenly brought up a mission. It was too casual, just relaxing on the couch before the announcement. You’re quick to begin crying, hugging around his waist as you plead with him. He doesn’t care for your cries.

Only rubbing your back with a roll of his eyes. “You act like ‘m not comin’ back.” He grumbled. He gave you the week to spend as much time with him and last Monday, it was time. He stood in the entryway, holding you close to his chest. Your fingers gripped his shirt, feeling as if he’d slip away at any moment.

With a final kiss to your forehead, Touya pulls away. “It’s only a week, dollface. I’ll be back.” Before he leaves, he runs down the list of rules he always gave you whenever he had to go.

Rule one, you were to stay in the apartment, it was too dangerous for you to be outdoors. This wasn’t a constant rule, you were allowed out alone and with company while he was home. While away, he couldn’t risk anyone getting ahold of you.

Rule two, you were to give him daily updates, at least four times a day. Although he has many ways to ensure your safety, it gives him a warmth in his chest when you send him a good morning text, describing your dream and how much you miss him.

Rule three, you were not to open the door for anyone. This rule had a few exceptions. Hawks and the league had specific knocks to confirm their identities. They were the only ones you were allowed to let in or speak to.

Rule four, you were to stay away from the ended and social media while he was away. Mainly his way of ensuring you don’t see any of the atrocities he may commit.

Rule five, you were not allowed to touch yourself. No toys, no fingers, no pornography. Nothing.

He was incredibly disappointed when inspecting his cameras in a run-down motel room. Watching as your hips twitched and ground against a pillow, sugary moans spilling off of your lips.

The same disappointment was all over his face. “I’m sorry—!” His rough hand grabs your cheeks, startling you. “Did I ask you to speak?” You shake your head, eyes welling with tears. “So, why’re ya’ talking, dog?” You stay silent, pout on your lips and tears in your eyes.

His icy blue eyes scan over your face, smirking when he locks with your watery eyes. Your face is forced to the side as he pushes you away. “I do everything for you. Everything to keep you safe and you can’t follow one simple fuckin’ rule.”

Dabi crouched down to pick up the heavy chain attached to your matching collar. He tugs you hard, throwing you off your balance as you’re forced to crawl behind him. You’re led to your bedroom where he sits on a chair and you stay on your knees.

He clears his throat, shuffling in his seat. You look up at him wide-eyed, awaiting your order. “You’re gonna work for my cock, you understand that?” You nod. “Speak up.”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Good, doggy.”

“Now, get to work.” Dabi pushes his right boot forward. You look up at him, unsure if you were misreading his command. He tilts his head down, wordlessly awaiting your obedience. Slowly, you lean further down to the floor.

The scent of earthiness, metal, and leather fills your nose. He adorned thick, black leather, steel-toed boots. Your personal favorite in his collection. The boots were intimidating on the man, making him appear taller and much rougher.

You're hesitant as you stick your tongue out, slowly swiping across the material. “Good, doggy. Keep goin’.” His praises encourage you, allowing you to become more comfortable as your tongue laps at the leather.

Dabi's expression hasn’t changed since he entered, his eyes only softened as he watched you clean his leather. His left hand creeping to squeeze his hardening cock, throbbing beneath his jeans.

“This is where you belong, isn’t it? On your knees with my boot in your mouth.” You stare at him wide-eyed. “I asked you a question.” The chain is pulled taut, squeezing your collar around your throat.

“Yes! This is where I belong, sir.” You cry out, at the sudden asphyxiation.

You’re focused on pleasing him, trying to force away the dull throb in your panties. Tongue dragging across ash and blood, spit shining the black leather. “Off it.” You stop with a whine, sitting back on your haunches.

You pull away, a trail of spit stuck to the leather and your lips. “Oh, look at you. S’fuckin’ pretty.” Dabi caresses your cheek before hooking his thumb into your mouth. You suck in the digit, holding blurred eye contact as your tears continue to flow. A taunting smirk is spread over his scarred lips.

“Stop your cryin’, mutt. I’ve hardly done anything to you.” That was true. Dabi could be much meaner if he truly wanted to be, he was just toying with you for a moment. Relishing in the tears that roll down your chubby cheeks.

“I want you to ride it. Take those pretty panties off and ride my fuckin’ boot.” You follow his orders, slipping the soaked fabric down your thighs and off onto the floor. Dabi’s hand cradles your cheek so he can watch your fave contort in pleasure as your clit makes contact.

Your hips twitch as you whimper, your hands gripping his hips to balance yourself. “M’yeah?” Dabi teases. Your hips swivel along the boot, stimulating your throbbing clit. Sharp quick pants leave your parted lips as you mindlessly hump the leather.

Drool beginning to spill from your lips, dribbling onto the denim-clad thigh of Dabi. “Pleasepleasepleaseplease—“ Your absentminded pleas force Dabi to unzip his jeans, pulling his cock out from his boxers. He slowly strokes himself, scarred hand languidly moving up and down.

“You like this don’t you? You love bein’ a disgusting dog f’me.” You nod quickly, your grip on him tightening. “Yes! Yes, I love being your dog, Dabi!” He chuckles at your enthusiasm before groaning as he nudges his piercing.

Your cunt’s slick, slipping easily if the material as wanton moans freely leave you. You’re getting close, the knot in your stomach becoming something you can’t ignore. Hips stuttering, nails digging into his skin and your chest heaving, Dabi knew you were teetering on the edge.

He just wanted to see what you would do.

Your ministrations don’t stop, only motivated more as you watch him jerk off. You’re so close, if you just add a little more pressure you’ll surely cum. Just a little bit more—

“Off it.” The look on Dabi’s force forces you back to your kneeled position.

You cry out at the lack of stimulation, your poor cunt clenching around nothing. “Look at my good dog. Learnin’ to listen to orders.” Dabi takes his fingers from your mouth, moving to pet your hair.

“While you’re down there, suck my cock, yeah?” He’s so uncaring as he leans back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. So, your nimble fingers make quick work crawling up his thighs before grabbing his cock.

He hisses at your grip, head tilting back. You lean over his lap, puckering your lips as you spit onto the throbbing head. A sharp groan gets stuck in his throat as you begin stroking him, hands twisting in opposite directions as they slide up and down.

You give him a wild grin, thighs clenching each time he moans. “I said suck it, mutt.” You follow his orders, taking the head between your lips and swirling your tongue around him.

“There you go, baby. Suck that big dick f’me.” The metallic taste of his piercings and the saltiness of precum fills your mouth, encouraging you to take him deeper. You gag around him, spilling tears down your cheeks.

“Good,” His hand comes down to hold your hair, slowly moving you up and down. “You’re doin’ s’good, doggy.” Dabi pants, cursing you under his breath. Your space wasn’t enough for the man, he strengthened the grip on your hair, forcing you further down.

Your nails dig into his skin as you choke on him. Hands slapping against his thighs as he roughly fucks into your throat. “Just like that—fuck! You love it, don’t you? Gaggin’ on my fuckin’ cock.” His voice begins to sound whiney as he reaches his orgasm.

You’re forced all the way down, nose nuzzling his pelvis as he cums. Spilling rope after rope of his cum down your throat, loud groans leaving him. Dabi lets you go, allowing you to pull off quickly as you cough.

Your face is soaked in tears and spit, making you the image of perfection to him. He watches as you pant and cough, catching your breath. “You look so pretty,” Dabi strokes your hair. “You looked s’fuckin’ pretty suckin’ my cock.” He wrenches your head back, roughly tugging on your hair.

“Open.” Your lips greedily part, tongue lolling out as he spits onto it. “Don’t you fuckin’ swallow.” He snarled, pinching your cheeks together. You pull your tongue back into your mouth, salivas mixing on your tongue. “Lay down.” He pats his thigh, readjusting himself to accommodate you.

You play over his lap, head and legs dangling over. Dabi adjusts you in his lap, pulling your ass up for his comfort. A heated hand rubs over the dentin’s skin of your ass. “Such a pretty thing you are.” He grips your ass.

Dabi is quick, lifting his hand from your skin before striking you hard. A muffled shout leaves you, determined to follow his orders. He repeated the motion on the other cheek, not giving you much time to relax.

Smack after smack after smack, your nails are digging into his leg you attempt to stay quiet. The blood is rushing to your head as you hang, making you dizzy from his hits and your position.

Your ass is bright red and sore, a product of his heavy and heated hand. “How ya’ feelin’?” He leans down, entering your peripheral. “Your ass feelin’ okay?” Your eyes are blurry and unfocused, and your body still tense and shaking. “Can’t talk, doggy?” He teases with a laugh.

Dabi sits you up on his lap, holding onto your hips to steady you. “Swallow for me.” You follow his orders, sticking out your tongue to prove so. “Such a good pet, hmm?” He pets your hair, allowing you to keen into his touch.

“Think ya’ deserve my cock now, dollface?” Dabi asks, wiping the tears from your face. “I deserve whatever you give me.” You reply with a sniffle. “That’s what I wanna hear.” The dark-haired man pulls you in for a kiss, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck.

The kiss is sloppy, full of spit and tongue. Dabi’s hands wander from your face down to your bruised ass, pinching at the sensitive skin. Your pained moans against his lips make his cock throb, leaking pre cum against his stomach.

In a smooth motion, Dabi lifts you into his arms and stands to his feet, carrying you over to the bed. You’re dropped unceremoniously, only for his lips to travel down your chin to your neck then your collarbones.

He unclips the chain from your collar, dropping it to the floor before attending to your breast. His tender kisses to your soft breast are interrupted as he bites, leaving a perfect imprint of his soft teeth. Dabi grins at you as his tongue lolls out to soothe the skin. His skillful tongue swirls around your nipples before he sucks the bud between his lips.

Your back arches in pleasure, hips bucking in desperation. He sinfully moans around your nipple, teeth grazing the hardened nub causing you to shiver. “P-please, Dabi.” Your pleading is nearly silent, voice just above a whisper.

The stark contrast of his warm mouth to the cool room is jarring. Dabi pulls away, straddling your waist as he looks down upon you. “What was that, I didn’t hear you?” The man taunts. “Dabi, please…” You pout, grabbing at his arm. He smacks your hands away, dismounting your body.

Before you can question what he was doing, you’re flipped onto your stomach, effectively disorienting you. His hands are all over you, positioning the way he wants you to be. Ass up, face down with a beautiful arch in your back. Dabi smacks your ass, admiring his work.

Your pretty soaked cunt was on full display, dripping sweet nectar down your plush thighs. “Now,” Dabi straddles your legs, positing himself behind you. “Speak up, tell me what you want.”

Your whines are muffled by the blanket. “I can’t hear you.” He chides as he lifts your head from the mattress. “Please, I need it so badly. I was only touching myself because I missed you, I’m sorry for disobeying you!”

“That’s a good pet.” The tip of his heavy pierced cock nudges against your dripping cunt. “So fuckin’ soaked already,” He groans pressing the head in. “Shit, baby. Take it f’me, you can do that yeah?” Tears prick your eyes again as he pushes further in, your tight heat stretching to accommodate his size.

He continues to sink his thick cock into your warm, wet walls. Stretching you out to fit him snugly. You yelp as the head of his cock smacks into your cervix, the dull pain spreading through your pelvis and stomach.

You grip the sheets, attempting to pull yourself away. “Don’t fuckin’ run from me.” Dabi rasps, gripping your waist and pulling you back. “Fuuuuck!” Your eyes roll back as you squirm in his grip. “You wanted this, take it.”

Dabi’s pace is quick, not giving you a chance to adjust. He’s pounding into you, nails digging

“Been gone for a week and you're that like a fuckin’ virgin? She missed me that bad?” He pants, leaning over your back. “Y-yes yes, I missed you so fucking much!” A hard smack is landed across your already aching ass.

“I’m not talkin’ to you, mutt.” Dabi spat, smacking the other cheek, relishing in how you clenched around him. “I’m talkin’ to this sinful fuckin’ pussy. Creamin’ ‘round my cock.” Your slick sounds of his cock pistoning into your cunt was sickening.

The rigged feeling of his piercings pleasantly rubs against your g-spot. “Greedy little cunt couldn’t wait to get some dick, now you have it and you wanna run?” Your hands reach back to push against his stomach, begging him to be gentle to your aching pussy.

Dabi grabs your wrist, pinning them back and pulling you back to him. He rests his chin against your shoulder as he thrusts into your core in this new position. “Oh my god,” Your drawl, head rolling to the side. “You’re so fuckin’ deep.”

He breathily chuckles against your ear, your moans music to his ears. “What do ya’ say?” His hand coming up to cup your breast. “Thank you, Dabi.” You sputter between strained moans.

“Nuh uh, what’s my name?” Dabi huffs against your ear, nipping at the cartilage. “Th-thank you, sir!” You sob, bowing against him. “That’s a good, pet.”

His thrusts increase, heavy balls smacking against your ass. The splitting feeling of him inside makes your cunt throb, and your poor aching clit twitches with neglect. You were getting close again, orgasm soon approaching with his harsh thrusts.

“Shit—please! I can’t, sluh—fuck! Slow down!” You cry and he lets you go, forcing your face into the mattress. “Ya’ gonna cum? Huh? Awww poor baby, who said you couldn’t do that?” He leans over you mercilessly thrusts abusing your dripping hole.

“Nonono—please! Been s’good, I wanna cum!” The words are muffled but, the message is clear. He only taunts you further, reaching down to play with your clit. “Mmm’not yet.”

“Wanna—shit—feel you clench on me some more. This tight cunt is fuckin’ addicting.” Dabi’s orgasm was approaching, his balls tightening as he continued his pace. “I’ll let ya’ know when you can, just enjoy it for now.”

Your walls flutter around him as his thumb circles your clit, pressing on the nub to feel your twitch against him.

“Shit—‘m gonna cum, pretty. Gonna breed this pretty cunt, you like that?” You nod, pleasure rendering you unable to speak. Dabi doesn’t punish you, too focused on pumping you full of his cum.

“You want me to breed this pretty cunny, don’t you? Make you mama, hah?” His teeth graze your shoulder before his tongue laps at the skin.

“C’mon, cum for me, pretty. Be a good dog f’me and cum.” He growls as he bottoms out in you. A ragged groan leaves the man as he cums, spilling rivulets of cum into your awaiting womb. You cum with him, overstimulation setting in quickly from being denied for so long.

Your body spasms as he lays over you, bodies now against the mattress. He’s buried deep within you, still twitching and pumping you full of his seed. You’re delirious, eyes hazy and stuffed too full to comprehend your surroundings.

You’re left panting and sweaty, too tired to get up and move. Eventually, Dabi pulls out, whistling at the stream of white that drips out of you. He spreads your ass, dipping down to lap at your cunt. “Baby, no…” You whine with overstimulation.

His tongue delves into your holes, dripping up the mixtures of both of your arousals. Dabi licks a stripe up from your cunt to your asshole, pulling away with a smile. “God, you taste so good, baby.” You’re still limp against the bed, tired from his pounding.

“We should,” Dabi takes a deep breath. “We should clean up.” He presses a kiss to your shoulder. “You did so good. You only ever act right when I’m mean to you, huh?” You mumble something unintelligible making him laugh. He rolls off of you, pulling you to play on his scarred chest.

Your eyes are shut, breathing slowly to regulate yourself. He gently strokes your hair, smiling down at you.

“Such a good dog for me.”

#dabi smut #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #touya todoroki smut #touya todoroki #dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki x reader smut #dabi x reader smut #mha dabi #bnha smut #mha x reader #mha smut #bnha x reader #bnha dabi #tw. boot worship #𝚖𝚣𝚣𝚕𝚎𝚍𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚝!#𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚝!𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚜

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hazbin-writings-and-musings · 7 months

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Can I request reader x Lucifer, where she reassures him and tells him that she will always love and be there for him more than anything.

He deserves love, and Lilith deserves to go fuck herself.

I like to think that what's going on with Lilith is some kind of a misunderstanding or will otherwise be resolved, but our dear Lucy boy does indeed deserve comfort in the interim, so have this little ficlet!

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

Hurt/Comfort

There were times when the King of Hell simply broke. The constant threats to his power, the atrocities committed by his subjects, the weight of all he'd done and his powerlessness to change anything for the better... it was too much, even for him. Once upon a time, he'd been able to share the weight of his crown, and to draw strength from the one he loved most on the days he couldn't think of a reason to get out of bed. Now, she was gone, and those dark days came for him all the more often in her absence. He'd survived, as he always had and always would, but his servants knew not to intrude when he sealed himself away to crumble behind closed doors. They'd learned no one could reach him when he fell into those dark thoughts.

You, unaware of these things, hadn't hesitated to seek him out when you didn't hear a word for over two days. His private wing of the castle had been unnaturally dim and dank when you'd arrived; the magical lights that usually kept it shimmering were mere flickers, and the golden walls seemed to sag, as if the structure itself was wilting under its own misery. A careful hand along the lifeless corridors had been needed to guide you through the darkness and to the King's private chambers.

When you'd opened the doors, you'd barely recognized the man on the bed at first glance. With his disheveled clothes, unkempt hair and lifeless red eyes, it had taken you a moment to recognize your beloved Lucifer, even with all six of his wings lying limp at his sides. You'd been across the room in a heartbeat once the pieces had connected.

Lucifer's surprise at your arrival had quickly turned to pleas for you to leave. He promised that he was fine, that he only needed to be alone, that you shouldn't bother yourself with such things, but of course you hadn't been convinced. The spread of shed feathers across the mattress and deep bags beneath his eyes told you he was in need of help, and you intended to provide it, however you could. Your steadfast refusal to leave finally brought the truth out of him.

"Alright, I'm not fine!" he confessed, sitting upright to face you. Seated on your heels, you gave him space instinctively, wanting him to continue so you might learn what was troubling the man you loved. Though your first guess would have been some unnatural, Hellish sickness, there was something about his movements that told you it was much deeper than that. Such a proud man would not let himself reach a state like this lightly. Grabbing a handful of his disheveled hair, he averted his eyes and took a shaky breath, wings crumpled around him in a ring of crimson feathers like a broken shield. Horns peaked from his forehead as he fought for his words.

"I didn't mean to scare you, I'm sorry, but I just..." he trailed off as a wave of frustration passed through his features, expression pinching tight as he held his face in his hand. Though your heart ached at the sight, you held back still, knowing you needed the truth before you could do anything for him. A heavy sigh passed through his fingers before he raised his head to look out a nearby stained glass window. The mixed colors reflected deeply in his glassy eyes, and he let out a miserable laugh. "Sometimes, it's too much, you know? Hell, the Sinners, the endless misery, and old Lucy's got nobody to blame for any of it but himself."

"Lucy-"

"What am I even talking about? Nobody to blame? I've got nobody, period! I can't! Soon as someone gets attached, it all goes south! Either I've gotta push them away for their own good, or they end up leaving all on their own!" he continued, breaking into a bout of unhinged laughter. All six wings flexed without any kind of unison, sending a fresh shower of feathers over the both of you as he looked upwards and pointed an accusatory finger at the ceiling. "Top marks for the punishment, you Heavenly bastards! It's the gift that just won't stop giving!"

You'd have stopped him were you not shocked into silence by it all. There had always been hints of your beloved fallen angel's deeply buried suffering: smiles faltering without a word, sudden flashes of sadness in his eyes when he thought you couldn't see, the tightness with which he'd embrace you upon saying goodbye... There had just never been enough for you to act decisively, and he always brushed off even the most casual concern for his wellbeing. Now, with his sanity potentially hanging by a thread, you could almost feel the agony that was weighing him down.

"Gotta keep my daughter away for her own good, lost all my friends, lost my wife-!" he halted with an especially pained laugh, and clutched the fabric of his shirt as if wounded by the very word. Suddenly you understood his seclusion all too well. His beloved of the past ten millennia, the woman he'd crossed Heaven for, the mother of his child... Lilith had been his rock, and without her, how could he shoulder it all? The man before you was collapsing under a kind of pressure few could imagine.

Burying his face in his hands, he spoke next as if you weren't present, sinking into himself and the pit of misery he likely thought he deserved. "And sooner or later I'll lose you too! Can't I get a damned-!?"

"Lucifer!" you interrupted at last, grabbing his shoulders in tandem with the shout. He lifted his head in surprise, having never heard you raise your voice with him and likely quite unaccustomed to the sound to begin with. Emboldened by the success, you continued with all the confidence you could pack into every syllable, needing him to hear you and know you spoke the truth.

"You haven't lost me, and you won't!" you insisted, sure enough in yourself that you'd have challenged every Exorcist in Heaven to prove you meant it. Lucifer, still caught off guard by your initial yell, remained briefly unresponsive. Blinking suddenly, he shifted to an expression of apathy before taking hold of your wrists and gently pulling them off his shoulders.

"I want to believe that..." he replied softly, slightly more grounded now. Breath hitching, he slid his thumbs over the backs of your palms, taking a moment just to feel your presence before abruptly letting go. You could sense how hard he was resisting the urge to pull you in. "But there's so much that can happen. My position, my enemies... it's more than I can ask of anyone, and eventually... Well, everyone has a limit, and I can't blame them for leaving when they hit it."

In the short time you'd known him, you'd seen a great deal of the hardships he spoke of, and knew that many would indeed find the constant weight of his position too much to endure. Since being at his side inevitably meant shouldering some of that weight by proxy, you understood why many would find themselves unable to endure. It was indeed too much to ask of anyone...

Thankfully, you didn't need to be asked. You were offering.

"I don't have a limit. Not so long as I'm with you." you said more firmly, taking his hands back in your own. Once more, you looked into his eyes, and spoke with all the conviction your voice could possibly muster. "I don't care about Heaven, or the rest of Hell, or anything. If I'm with you, I can handle it."

"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into." Lucifer replied quickly, almost mechanical in his dismissal. Though he was still deep in his thoughts and deeper still in his grief, you didn't fail to notice how he let his hands remain in your grip. Despite it all, he wanted you, but just wasn't yet strong enough to face the pain of wanting. You didn't mind. He needed time to heal, and you'd shoulder as much of the load as possible for as long as it took for him to do so.

"Well, good luck trying to stop me." you said, ever more defiant. A small but far more genuine chuckle passed his lips, and you pulled him closer, encouraging the exhausts angel to lean on you for an embrace. When his head met your chest, you held him tightly, fingers brushing through his hair just the way he liked it. As his exhausted body eased against your own, you knew you spoke only the truth. "I love you, and I'm going to keep loving you. Nothing is ever going to change that."

He laughed again, sounding like he still believed his luck wouldn't change, but was daring to hope regardless.

"I love you too."

As you held him on the bed in silence, you vowed to every being from the highest peaks of Heaven to the lowest depths of Hell that he wouldn't regret this.

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel x y/n #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel imagine #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer imagine #hurt/comfort #fanfic

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conlaluce · 3 months

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thinking about diluc and kaeya each having their own complicated relationship with religion. crepus is a devout believer of the anemo archon, to me, so he definitely took his kids with him to mass at the cathedral, if not every sunday then at least once or twice a month.

diluc learned to pray from his father; learned to give thanks to the god who gave this city its freedom, the god who blesses them with gentle weather and bountiful lands and protects them from tyranny. he believes wholly and truly in the anemo archon's grace; his father does, after all, and everyone says barbatos is great and benevolent and kind and helped found the nation he loves so dearly.

kaeya doesn't like mass very much, but he never says so. it makes him uncomfortable, especially in the beginning, worshipping one of the gods that his homeland has reviled - but he wants to fit in, he doesn't want to lose his place here. and surely, surely, it would be a dead giveaway to his "true" allegiances if he refused to pray to mondstadt's god. so kaeya closes his eyes and pretends to pray, because better this than losing another home. (better this than failing his mission, than failing in his duty to khaenri'ah.)

and then, diluc's 18th birthday passes. ursa the drake attacks. crepus dies. diluc leaves mondstadt. kaeya is left, alone, the only ragnvindr left (except there aren't any, really, because he isn't a ragnvindr anymore, he isn't allowed to be.)

the first time diluc's vision starts to go out, the light flickering and fading and dying, kaeya prays. for the first time, he doesn't pretend, he doesn't close his eyes and clasp his hands together just for show - he prays.

please. please. let diluc live. please don't let him die. he can't die. i know you hate me, but you can't let him die, he's one of yours, isn't he? he's a child of mondstadt. he has to stay alive. save him, please, please-

(i can't lose him too)

diluc's vision never does go out all the way. it always retains its light, even if only slightly. maybe the anemo archon really did protect him. maybe barbatos answered kaeya's prayers.

sometimes, when diluc's vision is weak, kaeya prays. surely, barbatos will at least grant him this. surely, barbatos wouldn't be opposed to keeping a child of mondstadt safe.

when diluc finally comes back home, kaeya closes his eyes and whispers a quiet thanks to his god.

diluc, on the other hand, no longer prays. hasn't, since that day.

he doesn't think he deserves to.

kaeya said something, that night, about khaenri'ans being sinners. a people who have been condemned by the gods themselves for their sins. he said it so viciously, so bitterly, so sincerely. like he believed it, wholly and truly.

if you're a sinner, then what am i?

kinslayer. a failure of a knight. a man who could not save anyone when it mattered most, who raised a blade to his own family. killer of his own father, and nearly his brother, too. he has learned to kill without feeling the slightest hint of remorse, to steal and torture and deceive. he has committed so many atrocities he can no longer count them all. his sins are far worse than kaeya's have ever been, will ever be.

if you're a sinner, then so am i.

diluc doesn't pray anymore. he's a little scared to.

and besides, no gods would save him now, would they?

not with all the blood on his hands.

some time after his return to mondstadt, diluc starts attending mass again. every sunday, he enters the cathedral with the rest of the crowd, chooses a quiet spot in the back, and waits for the service to begin.

he doesn't pray.

when everyone else's heads are bowed together in prayer, diluc lowers his head to show respect, but his eyes are open. his hands lie still in his lap. he stares at the wood of the pews in front of him as the sister leading the service offers words of thanks to barbatos. he does not pray.

does he even deserve to ask anything of the gods now?

and then diluc finds out the annoying bard that frequents his tavern is actually a god. is actually barbatos. not just any god - his god.

his god trusts him to keep his human guise a secret. his god tolerates him enough to become a regular at his tavern and beg him for freebies.

okay. this is fine.

(vaguely, diluc wonders if it is heresy to say no when your god asks you for something. repeatedly. but their dynamic has been like this for months before venti's true identity was revealed, and the god has shown no indication of wanting to change that. so, for now, diluc will treat him the same as he always has.)

sometimes, he thinks about asking. asking venti - asking barbatos - if he would forgive diluc of his sins. if he deserves to be forgiven.

he never does ask.

#diluc ragnvindr #kaeya alberich #genshin impact #religion #religious themes #religious trauma question mark?#venti #barbatos

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girlactionfigure · 3 months

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This was written by Eric Hoffer in 1968. Amazing how some things never change.

"The Jews are a peculiar people: things permitted to other nations are forbidden to the Jews.

Other nations drive out thousands, even millions of people and there is no refugee problem. Russia did it, Poland and Czechoslovakia did it, Turkey threw out a million Greeks, and Algeria a million Frenchmen. Indonesia threw out heaven knows how many Chinese-and no one says a word about refugees. But in the case of Israel the displaced Arabs have become eternal refugees. Everyone insists that Israel must take back every single Arab. Arnold Toynbee calls the displacement of the Arabs an atrocity greater than any committed by the Nazis.

Other nations when victorious on the battlefield dictate peace terms. But when Israel is victorious it must sue for peace. Everyone expects the Jews to be the only real Christians in this world.

Other nations when they are defeated survive and recover but should Israel be defeated it would be destroyed. Had Nasser triumphed last June he would have wiped Israel off the map, and no one would have lifted a finger to save the Jews.

No commitment to the Jews by any government, including our own, is worth the paper it is written on. There is a cry of outrage all over the world when people die in Vietnam or when two Negroes are executed in Rhodesia. But when Hitler slaughtered Jews no one remonstrated with him.

The Swedes, who are ready to break of diplomatic relations with America because of what we do in Vietnam, did not let out a peep when Hitler was slaughtering Jews. They sent Hitler choice iron ore, and ball bearings, and serviced his troop trains to Norway.

The Jews are alone in the world. If Israel survives, it will be solely because of Jewish efforts. And Jewish resources. Yet at this moment Israel is our only reliable and unconditional ally. We can rely more on Israel than Israel can rely on us. And one has only to imagine what would have happened last summer had the Arabs and their Russian backers won the war to realize how vital the survival of Israel is to America and the West in general.

I have a premonition that will not leave me; as it goes with Israel so will it go with all of us. Should Israel perish the holocaust will be upon us."

Uri Kurlianchik

@VerminusM

#Israel #Jews #Antisemitism

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thesewordsareallihavetogive · 6 months

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Fine Line - Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: 1.1k words. loosely inspired by "Fine Line" by Harry Styles. Your relationship with Jake is unconventional. Jake lets himself into your home in the middle of the night after a deployment, you let him into your bed.

Warnings: some angst, language, reader is ex-military, references to 18+ topics but no explicit content, references to a military-related accident that resulted in an honorable discharge, no graphic depictions of aforementioned accident, redemption fluff (?)

a/n: I wrote this in one sitting between my morning lecture and afternoon lecture. I'm really happy with how it turned out :))

master list | join my tag list

The soft sound of the front door creaking open down the short hallway roused you. It wasn’t so much the near-silent sound, but rather the infinitesimal shift in the air.

You’d never been a good sleeper anyway.

You probably should’ve been alarmed. You lived alone, and you weren’t expecting anyone. Much less at 2:38 a.m., according to the glaring red alarm clock on your nightstand. Still half asleep, you did the math in your head. He was deployed 6 weeks ago. Based on the average time it took for landing procedures and debrief meetings, he probably returned to base from God knows where within the past 3 hours. And now he was here.

Down in the unlit foyer—if you could even call it that, the townhouse was hardly bigger than a postage stamp and the entryway was no exception—Jake toed off his standard-issued combat boots. You aren’t a clean freak, but you’d prefer not to have asphalt and remnants of jet fuel tracked across your floors. Years in the service ensured that your living space was always ready for inspection, for better or worse. Even after you retired, the habits stuck with you.

Just like being a light sleeper.

He padded silently down the hallway towards your room. The knob turned and he pushed the door open, wincing as its hinges whined in protest.

Jake wasn’t surprised that you were awake, staring at him as he entered the room. He didn’t text you or give any indication ahead of time to let you know he’d be coming over. Given that it was a Friday night–well, early Saturday morning–anyone else might’ve reached out first for permission. Or to at least confirm they wouldn’t be intruding on time with a different overnight guest. But Jake never did.

You had an unspoken agreement that neither of you would see anyone else. It was a delicate dance, a fine line that the two of you traced across. Having no label, as was made clear by Jake years ago, but feeling an overwhelming unnamed feeling, a sense of obligation and loyalty kept the two of you from venturing outside the bounds of your non-relationship.

“Hi,” he whispered, gravel in his tone. You couldn’t see the dark circles underneath his eyes or barely present wrinkles forming on his forehead in the darkness, but you could imagine they were there. Jake liked to pretend that the stress didn’t get to him. Like he was unaffected by the atrocities he saw and was forced to commit thousands of feet above the rest of the sane world. Like he was invincible. But you knew better. You knew he had nightmares, like most service members. Most of his missions were entirely confidential and on a need-to-know basis. In the eyes of the United States Navy, you did not need to know. Jake was true to his oath. Sworn to secrecy, and never even slightly indicated something that civilians should know. Being a veteran somehow lumped you into that category.

You hummed in response. Barely audible, but certainly there. Your limbs were tired. Aching. Rehab and physical therapy could only do so much to help you after the accident, but you were doing okay now. You wordlessly pulled the sheets back as you scooted over on the mattress, making room for Jake. He chastely stripped down to his boxers before joining you under the sheets. It was cool, but it didn’t surprise him. You always ran cold. Ironically, he always ran hot, in temperature and temper.

No one spoke as he inched closer to you, the movement magnetic. Rustling sheets and the gentle hum of the window AC unit softly filled the room. 2:40 a.m.

Jake teased you when he was here last. “You oughta get your central AC fixed. That window unit is annoying, darlin’. Don’t know how you sleep with it running like that,” he chided while absentmindedly running his fingers through your hair. It had become mussed from your previous activities, but that was the last thing on your mind; you took a break from memorizing his unguarded face to roll your eyes. Your landlord was useless, and a bit of an asshole. You’d both established this the last time you needed something fixed. Jake ended up taking care of it for you anyway, like he always did.

2:41 a.m. He wrapped his arms around you, and you let him. Your hand came up to brush a few stray strands of his usually perfectly styled hair out of his face. It was still damp. You imagine he did what he had to at base, probably begrudgingly going through the motions. It was late and he could feel the weeks-long worth of exhaustion in his bones. After the last meeting that nearly did him in, he showered and came straight here. Driving in the state he was in probably wasn’t the best idea. But the roads were quiet and he needed to be near you. He wouldn’t have slept anyway.

You knew one day the fine line you toed, the relationship that refused to be defined would break one of you, if not both. He’d probably throw himself even deeper into his career and go back to his old habits, picking up a new girl every weekend at whatever bar he inevitably ended up at. You’d probably distract yourself and go back to grad school on Uncle Sam’s dime. Maybe you’d study physical therapy. Or mental health therapy. The patient becomes the practitioner.

There was only one way the two of you got out of this unscathed, and Jake was too fucked up to commit. He knew it would hurt you, but he was selfish. He knew you deserved better. He didn’t think he could be better.

As he pulled you further against his warm chest, tucking your head and hair that smelled like home underneath his chin, you snuggled against him deeper. Soft, yet rugged skin that stretched across his defined pecs met your ear. You listened to the steady beating of his heart–proof that he had one–lub dub, lub dub, lub dub.

His hand caressed your back, holding you tighter against him. His breathing evened out and you knew he was asleep. Daring to glance up at his finally peaceful face and aching to become one, you decide this is enough for now.

PLEASE LMK WHAT YOU THINK! Your comments & reblogs really mean the world to me <3

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#hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin imagine #hangman imagine

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glassica · 2 months

Text

Surprise boyfriend

Notes: M!yan x F!reader, non-con, sexual language, cursing, pregnancy trapping, blackmailing threats

"Hey Y/N, heard you go out with Ray right?"

You spat out the remaining cold brew. You? Go out with whom???

People must've assumed you were into him after seeing your exchanges at the party. But you swear that wasn't that serious at all! You were just fooling around to kill time!

- No. Who told you that?

- Ray posted about you all over his insta. Yeah right you don't use that app... But what do you mean you two aren't dating!?

You took one look at your friend's phone. Lo and behold, countless pictures of you and him holding hands and acting all lovey-dovey like a real couple. Your brain juggled through the hazy memories to see when the selfies were taken but oh dear, you were so drunk off the mind on that night to recall everything.

- Ray, excuse me. Do you have a moment?

- Sweetie I always have time for you. What do baby want from me now? ~

His cheesy line brought shattering earthquakes to your brain. God this man had zero shame, or you had been cursed to carry the embarrassment baggage on his behalf. "If we were alone I'd rip his ass off right instant." - you thought. "And I'll never have time for your goofy ass."

- I believe you misunderstood our relationship. I must've said something deceitful to you during at the party and I'll take responsibility for that. I don't plan to date you or anyone, Ray. I'm so sorry for misleading you.

You spoke in a remorseful tone. Though not able to recollect what nonsense the mouth had blabbered, you felt like owning him an apology regardless. Kids this was why you should never let peer pressure get to you and drink over limits, you never knew if one day you accidentally being entangled with some jackass.

Surprisingly Ray's expression didn't seem to fazed for a bit. On the contrary, the grin on his face got even more ominous and deranged, alerted your sixth sense that nothing coming out from this man was any good: It was a grave mistake involving him in your life.

"My baby wanna break up with me? Oh sweetheart how could you abandon me like that? Have you forgot your little promises to me about love and loyalty? Didn't you say I was your type, that your greatest wish was to be wrapped in my arms every night and showered your body with plenty of kisses?"

Freak. Weirdo. Creep.

How could anyone breath in the same direction of this guy and not get their skin crawled for a second? You were both amused and pissed off witnessing this whole circus show, wondering how out mind you were last Friday to be attracted to this walking joke of a man.

Get this over quickly, or you would end up committing some atrocities on that stupid face.

"I wasn't sober at the time. I must've been spewing rubbish. I'm really sorry for lying to you Ray, but can you please take down those pictures?"

"Why should I? I need to show off everyone my Sweetie's already taken, so that no one could touch you. Besides," - Ray tucked his head over your shoulder, the eerily off-putting grin grew even wider as he whispered softly to your ears, "those pics aren't the only proof of our unshakable bond."

He trailed off, calmly put a hand on your belly.

Your mind went blank.

"BITCH! YOU FUCKING RAPED ME!?"

"Now now. You hurt my heart, Sweetie. How could you accuse me of such heinous crime when all I did so much to give you such good time on bed? And don't lie, your pussy was cumming hard for my crotch. I still can recall those pretty little buds-"

Just then, Ray felt a burning heat on his left cheek. You were done. Completely dropped off manners. Eyes flaming with disgust and resentment while both hands clenching fist furiously, you became a wild animal determined to chew off its prey to the bone. You didn't care about anything else, any consequences after, your absolute goal at the moment was to tear this asshole to shreds.

But Ray was infuritatingly nonchalant, cocky even. He wasn't bothered for a bit when facing your wrath. Rubbing hand on the reddish cheek, he continued:

"Don't you believe you can brush your hand away from me, love. I don't like anyone seeing my angel in her purest form, but I have no problem releasing those clips."

A sadistic chuckle let out of his mouth observing the bloodthirst drained out from your face. If you didn't want him as your prince, then he wouldn't hesitate becoming the big bad villain tainting your life forever.

Ray caught your lifeless body in a loving embrace, just like that Friday night, and many more nights in the future.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere x reader #male yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere male #yandere oc #male yandere fic #yandere fic #male yandere x female reader #tw sa #tw cursing #tw pregnancy trapping #tw noncon #yancore

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robbyrobinson · 1 month

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Bill's really complex despite literally being two-dimensional. Hirsch does a good job at presenting a villain that the audience can feel some sympathy for while the work itself does not shy away from the fact that he still committed horrible crimes and has himself to blame in the end.

But, still, a lot of Bill's mannerisms make so much sense now that we know he did not intend on destroying his dimension. It reinforces what The Axolotl had said about how Bill "says he's happy" but is really lying to himself. Everything from Bill committing numbers of atrocities through the multiverse and Weirdmageddon, can all be recontextualized as Bill's desperate attempt to further separate himself from the incident he caused.

Bill misses his home and probably would want nothing more than to return. But that would come with the heavy realization that not only was it through his own fault, but he had a laundry list of crimes to his name. Sure, he likes to say that he is happy, but it is apparent Bill is doing all this to try to keep his mind occupied by appealing to his hedonism. Perhaps Bill really did derive satisfaction from being evil, but he's still haunted by the ghosts of his past.

Add onto that, Bill is one trillion and twelve years old, a preteen. This incident traumatized him, likely stunting his growth, thereby contributing to how incapable Bill is of taking accountability. Some part of his brain simply refuses it because doing so brings the dark memories back in full force. Unlike Stanley, Bill never was able to grow up to have the mentality to fix his mistakes.

Despite everything, I couldn't help but feel on some level that I did want Bill to atone once he was sentenced to the Theraprism because surely, trying to atone for all your past sins would be worth it, right? Sure, you may come back as a cloud of fungal spores or a butterfly, but it would be infinitely better than attending mandatory meetings and puppet time.

But that is the problem: Bill is too narcissistic and set in his ways to ever try or let alone want redemption because, again to me, that would entail having to relive the trauma of accidentally destroying his dimension and confronting the fact that he is to blame for everything. As a result, Bill would rather stew in his own self-denial for eternity than ever accept reality.

It is kind of sad, but it is a fate that is fitting for this monster.

#gravity falls #theraprism #gravityfalls #bill cipher #book of bill #disney #character analysis

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artiststarme · 5 months

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Officer Phil Callahan wasn’t often seen in a positive light. Most people viewed him as immature, impulsive, condescending, and a poor excuse for a poor excuse of a police officer. However, no one could accuse him of being a bad brother. He prided himself on always being there for his little bro and his brother knew he could count on him too for anything. As such, Phil was the first person he went to after receiving the beating of all beatings.

So, when Phil opened his front door to see his baby bro leaning against the doorframe for support with his bruised face bearing more resemblance to a blueberry, he dropped everything to help him.

“Holy goddamn shit, Steve! What the hell happened to your face?!” He ushered Steve inside and settled him on the well-worn couch adorning his small living room.

Phil didn’t know what had happened to his brother and he didn’t know who had tried to pulverize his face but he did know whomever had committed this atrocity would pay. He didn’t care if he had to arrest Jonathan Byers again or face off against the powerful Hagan parents to cuff Tommy H in public, he was going to make someone suffer.

His rage only grew as he watched Steve dry heave and vomit for hours on end. Phil aspired to return the beating to the perpetrator that gave Steve the headache of all headaches and physical damage to boot. He took care of Steve through the night by waking him up every four hours, rubbing his back through the dry heaves, and giving him water to keep him hydrated. As soon as he seemed stable enough to be left alone though, Phil was badgering him for the name of the attacker.

He waited just long enough to hear, “Billy Hargrove, but don’t-“ before he was off.

Dressed in his Sheriff’s Deputy uniform with his gun on his hip, he set off to find the sack of shit that hurt his brother. Would this look bad in front of the townspeople? Definitely. Could it hurt his job and his position in the department? Most probably. But he would do what he had to do and probably beat the shit out of that dirtbag in revenge.

As expected, the Californian hippie delinquent was standing by his Camaro in front of the school with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. Phil pulled the patrol care right up to his bumper before storming up to him and shoving him against his own drivers side door. Billy’s cigarette dropped ashes against Phil’s forearm but the rage inside of him burned even more than the fluttering ash. The eyes of nearly the entire student body rested on him but he didn’t let it phase him.

“You roughed up Steve yesterday,” Phil growled.

“You’re crazy. Who the fuck-“

“You’re gonna shut up and listen, buttercup. If you even think about touching Steve again, you kinky shit, I will make your life a living hell. Stay away from my brother.”

“Whatever, man. Did Steve go running home to mommy-“

He didn’t even register his just flying until Billy’s head whipped to the side followed by a pain in his hand. Shit, he just hit a kid. A bitchy one, but a kid nonetheless. “I’m sorr-“

“Is that all you got? I guess you and Stevie-boy both hit like the pansies you are.” Billy sneered at him with blood coating his teeth.

This little prick. Phil wasn’t going to let some high school bully get away with this. First he tries to kill his brother and then he starts talking shit about the both of them? Nope, no siree. Phil pauses but a minute before pulling a pair of handcuffs from his belt and latching them around a struggling Hargove’s wrists. “Okay, you little shit. You’re under arrest for felony assault, attempted murder, and anything else I can throw at you. No school for you today, now get in my car.”

“Are you fucking serious?!” He yelled, bloody spittle spitting from his lips.

“Yep, just like that concussion you gave my brother. Now shut up and stop resisting before I have to shoot you.” He wouldn’t actually shoot this kid but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Phil knew the charges probably wouldn’t stick but he still felt lighter, relieved, that he had gotten at least a little bit of justice for Steve. And if the increasingly panicked murmurings in the backseat brought a smile to his face? Well, no one was any the wiser.

#Eddie Munson sees the cop put Hargrove in his place and develops a little crush #that certainly makes things confusing in the future when he finds out that the cop and Steve are brothers #he has a type and his types are the Harringtons #Steve goes back to school after recovering to a whole new fan base #and oddly a nerdy dungeon game player that keeps staring at him #stranger things #fanfic #steve harrington #officer callahan is steve’s brother

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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 29 days

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7: BENIGN

Chapter 6B <MASTERLIST > Chapter 8

SUMMARY: You discover the Winter Soldier's true identity, but his intoxicating presence is too distracting. You have to tell him the truth... eventually.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warning: SMUT: P in V sex, Body worship — If there is any more you find not listed here please be sure to let me know so I can add it.

The Soldier had been shut away, frozen in suspended animation until he was necessary again. It was hard to say what he thought and felt as he lay dormant in his icy prison, locked away and alone. But the memory of your last encounter with him still lingered in the back of your mind, the way he had reacted to your indifference a puzzle that you couldn't quite solve. Could it be that there was more to his response than mere lust? Was there a deeper truth behind his offense at your cold demeanor?

It was unclear why there had been no repercussions for your actions. Perhaps your superiors believed in your loyalty to the organization and its goals, or perhaps they had decided that it wasn't worth the hassle to reprimand you. Or, more likely, they simply didn't care enough about the well-being of their subordinates to bother addressing the issue. Whatever the reason, you were relieved to have avoided any negative consequences for your actions with the Soldier.

The Soldier had provoked something within you, a curiosity that gnawed at your thoughts like a relentless ache. Who was the man behind the assassin, the Winter Soldier, the brainwashed Hydra agent? What memories and feelings lay hidden behind those blue eyes? The more you thought about it, the deeper your desire grew to uncover the truth behind the enigma that he was.

Using the recent lull in activity and the decreased security as cover, you quietly went about searching for information on your Soldat. Perhaps there were some records in the Hydra database that would shed some light on his past and his identity before he had become the Winter Soldier. You knew it was a risky endeavor, but your curiosity and determination to uncover the truth drove you forward.

You were all too aware of the risks involved in sneaking into Karpov's office without permission. If you were caught, there would be dire consequences. But you steeled yourself as you slipped into the room, quietly closing the door behind you. Your heart raced as you navigated the unfamiliar surroundings, searching for anything that could give you insight into who the Soldier was before he became the Winter Soldier.

As you searched the room, you came across a thick folder labeled "Winter Soldier Program". Your heart leaped in your chest, excitement and adrenaline rushing through you at the thought of finally being on the cusp of discovering the truth about the Soldier. Carefully, you picked up the file and flipped through the pages, scanning the contents with bated breath.

“Top secret: In accordance with your instructions, the KGB Directorate under the Council of Ministers of the Ukrainian SSR for the Lvov region, from October 1959 to April 1960, carried out measures to document and collect evidence about atrocities in the city of Lvov in the region committed by Oberlander and the battalion.”

You were surprised by what you were reading. The file contained documentation and evidence about atrocities committed during the period from 1959 to 1960 in Lvov. Oberlander, the leader of a battalion, was mentioned in the file as being responsible for these atrocities. This was not the type of information you were expecting to find. What could this have to do with the Soldier? Confused and intrigued, you continued to read through the file, searching for any clues or hints that would shed light on the connection.

Your breath caught in your throat as you laid eyes on an image of the Soldier, frozen in suspended animation in his cryo chamber. But the three words printed at the top of the page sent a chill down your spine: “James Buchanan Barnes.” This was it. This was the truth behind the Winter Soldier. James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, a name that was undoubtedly his true identity before he was brainwashed and reprogrammed into a mindless HYDRA assassin.

The sound of approaching footsteps in the distance sent your heart racing with alarm. You quickly closed the files and shoved them back into place, knowing that if you were caught snooping around in Karpov's office, there would be severe consequences. Adrenaline pumping through your veins, you quickly turned on your heel and fled from the office, shutting the door quietly behind you.

You found refuge in the examination room where you regularly took care of the Soldier. The familiarity of the space offered a momentary sense of security and solitude, allowing you a moment of respite to process the shocking information you had just uncovered. Your mind was racing as you tried to make sense of everything, your thoughts a tangled mess that refused to settle.

“Kotyonok?”

You were snapped out of your thoughts abruptly at the sound of the Soldier's voice. You spun around, the shock and surprise clear on your face as you found him standing there, watching you with a mixture of curiosity and concern in his eyes.

"Soldat," you said, struggling to keep your voice steady. "How long have you been there?”

"Long enough to know something’s wrong.”

You couldn't help but be taken aback by his perceptive response. The Soldier was much more observant than you had given him credit for. You hesitated, unsure of how to respond or what to say. Should you confide in him? Tell him what you had discovered?

As you hesitated, the Soldier stepped closer, closing the distance between the two of you. His eyes searched yours, looking for some hint of what was troubling you. The intensity of his gaze made you feel exposed, as if he could see through all your carefully erected defenses.

The surprise of his kiss took you off guard, but you quickly reciprocated, responding to his gentle touch with a soft sigh. Despite the turmoil stirring in your mind, the feel of his lips against yours was grounding, anchoring you in the moment and giving you a brief respite from your racing thoughts.

The closeness of his body, his arms holding you tightly, was a stark contrast to the distance he had placed between you previously. You couldn't help but wonder if he remembered the events that occurred during the chemical-induced frenzy, but you didn't dare ask. Despite the confusion and uncertainty, the warmth of his embrace and the way he was looking at you made your heart flutter in your chest.

His actions puzzled you, contradicting the memory of his cold and distant withdrawal of your last encounter with him. His embrace was tender and affectionate, filled with a familiarity that again hinted at a deeper connection between the two of you. Despite the confusion and uncertainty, a glimmer of hope flickered within you. Perhaps some part of him truly remembered and cared for you, buried deep beneath the layers of brainwashing and programming.

As he pushed you back onto the couch, a shiver of anticipation ran through your body. You could feel the intensity of his touch, the way his hands skimmed over your skin with deliberate purpose. The way he moved was practiced and confident, as if he knew exactly how to make your body react to his touch. You found yourself following his lead, responding to every movement as he positioned you just so.

His consuming touch drowned out all thought as you surrendered completely to the moment. Past revelations and discoveries faded into distant memory as his focus claimed your full attention. The world shrank until only the two of you remained, lost in a heady haze of desire and pleasure.

As he slowly undressed you, his hands on you were soft and reverent. It surprised you to see how he handled your clothes with care, as if they were precious and fragile like you. His eyes roamed over your body, taking in every curve and contour with a look of admiration and longing. It was as though he was seeing you for the first time, as if your body was a treasure to be savored and cherished.

You couldn't help but melt under his touch, surrendering yourself completely to the sensations he was evoking. Every kiss, every whisper against your skin sent shivers down your spine, his words and caresses igniting a fire within you. You let him move you, shifting and arching your body as he wanted, completely consumed by the desire he sparked in you.

The way he spoke to you, the words of praise and admiration, sent a rush of warmth through your body, something more than pure lust. His eyes were fixated on your most intimate places, his gaze filled with hunger. You could feel the heat of his breath against your skin, his words a soft whisper in your ear.

"Look at these breasts, so perfect."

He moved with purpose and precision, placing a pillow under your hips before positioning himself on top of you with a practiced ease. You felt the heat emanating from his body and the weight of him pinning you to the couch. His chin rested above your head and his chest mere inches from your face.

“So perfect, Kotyonok. So sweet and responsive.”

He took hold of your hands, his fingers interlacing with yours as he brought your arms above your head. The gesture, so intimate and possessive, sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine. You were completely restrained and at his mercy, yet somehow you knew you were safe in his hands.

“You feel amazing. Need your body against mine. Always.”

When he entered you, it was slow and methodical, but still filled with an urgent need that made your breath catch in your throat. The base of his shaft felt amazing against your lips and clit. He was angled slightly downward, making it easier to hit the back of your pussy. He moaned as he moved inside you, the sound filled with pleasure and satisfaction. His voice a low, rough whisper against your ear, his words carrying a hint of vulnerability that surprised you.

“You always know what I need, Kotyonok.”

He repeated the words, as if they were a mantra, a declaration of dependence and desire. His body moved against yours in a steady, gentle rhythm, each movement designed to drive you both closer to the edge of ecstasy.

No one had ever worshiped you quite the way your Soldat did. It made you wonder just how much of his true self was buried beneath layers of programming and indoctrination, and how much was left of the man he had been before Hydra had gotten their hands on him. Was he still James Buchanan Barnes inside?

As you wrapped your legs around his waist, a low gasp escaped his lips, and his movements stuttered for a brief moment.

“Ah, yes,” he murmured against your skin, “Just like that, Kotyonok. Just like that.”

He allowed you to set the pace and take control of your own pleasure, his movements matching the rhythm of your hips. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the friction and pressure as he rocked against you, driving you closer and closer to the edge. His breath was hot against your skin, his own moans of pleasure and approval sending waves of pleasure through your body.

“Feel so good,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “So good, Kotyonok.”

You moved with more purpose now, pushing against him as you chased your release. Your body was taut and quivering with the thrill and anticipation. The sensations building and building until you felt like you were going to burst.

"That's it," he whispered, "Give yourself to me.”

He kept up the steady rocking of his hips, matching yours and driving you closer to the edge. You could feel the tension growing within him as well, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he held back his own release.

The words he whispered against your skin and in your ear provoked something deep within you, a stirring of emotions and feelings that you couldn't quite put into words. It was more than physical pleasure, more than just the heat of the moment. There was a depth and intensity to this connection, something that felt almost sacred in its intimacy.

As you lost yourself in the intensity of the moment, you found yourself feeling a sense of vulnerability and trust you had never experienced before.

As you squeezed your thighs together, the added pressure sent a shock of pleasure through his body, making him gasp and groan in response. His breath caught in his throat as he fought to remain in control.

“Ah, Kotyonok,” he choked out, “You're going to be the death of me.”

There was a hint of playful admonishment in his voice, but also a hint of genuine surprise and pleasure. Your actions were driving him wild, and he was struggling to hold back the rising tide building within him.

“Oh Milyy, I hope not,” you cooed.

He chuckled at your response, breathless and a little strained from the effort of holding back his own climax. His eyes met yours, a mixture of amusement and desire dancing in his gaze.

"No, I guess you wouldn't want that," he conceded, "But if you keep doing that, I can't make any promises."

He shuddered as you squeezed your thighs together again, the sensation almost enough to send him over the edge. But he was holding back with every ounce of self-control he possessed, his body taut and quivering with the effort. His breath was coming in ragged gasps as he fought to prolong the pleasure, determined to wait until you reached your own release before letting himself go.

“Cum for me, Kotyonok,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Let go. I want to feel you come undone for me.”

As you finally let go, surrendering to the wave of pleasure that crashed over you, he let out a guttural groan, the sound a mixture of relief and satisfaction. He held you close, his arms encircling you as he allowed himself to follow you over the edge.

"Yes," he whispered, his voice ragged and breathless, "Just like that."

He shuddered against you as he climaxed, his body trembling with the force of his release. He buried his face in your neck, panting and sighing as he rode out the intense waves of euphoria that coursed through him.

“That's it, Kotyonok,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe and admiration. “So beautiful. So perfect.”

He slowly lowered his body, sinking deeper inside you until his face was level with yours. His grip on your hands loosened, and he let his weight rest on you, his body relaxed and spent.

He nuzzled against your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he pressed lazy kisses along your jawline and collarbone.

“You're amazing,” he murmured, his voice still ragged with pleasure. “So beautiful. All mine.”

In that moment, as you lay entwined with the assassin, you knew you had found something rare and precious inside him. A connection that defied logic and reason, a love that could conquer even the darkest of shadows. As you surrendered to the passion that burned between you, you considered the possibility of soulmates. Had you found yours - in the most unexpected of places - in the arms of a killer, in the heart of a metal soldier who had once been lost but had finally found his way back home, to you?

As you carded your fingers through his hair, he let out a low, content sigh, his eyes drifting closed as he savored the feeling of your touch. There was something so intimate and tender about the gesture, a silent expression of affection and trust that spoke volumes without words.

He nuzzled against your hand, like a cat seeking more affection, his body still pliant and relaxed from your earlier lovemaking. It was rare to see him like this - unguarded and vulnerable, completely at ease.

“That feels nice,” he murmured, his voice low and rough.

"You like that... James?" His name, the name that you'd read in his file, slipped out in your post orgasmic haze.

He stiffened at the sound of his name, his eyes snapping open and his breath catching in his throat. For a moment, he seemed frozen in shock and surprise, as if he hadn't expected to hear that particular name falling from your lips.

He turned to look at you, his expression a mixture of confusion and...something else. It was as if you had jolted something loose within him, a flicker of memory sparking in his mind.

“That name?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion.

He looked at you, his eyes searching yours as he processed the words. There was a hint of recognition flickering in his gaze, a subtle shift in his expression that betrayed his surprise at hearing his name.

A million thoughts seemed to flash through his mind in that moment, memories and emotions that he hadn't dwelt on in decades swirling through his brain. It was as if you had awakened something within him, some long-forgotten piece of his identity that he thought had been lost forever.

He swallowed hard, his voice rough and uncertain.

“How… how do you know that name?”

You hesitated. "I found a file... about you.”

He tensed at your words, his body going rigid as if preparing for some unseen blow. He pulled away from you, his expression darkened, his eyes narrowing as he regarded you with a mixture of suspicion and resignation. Soldat pulled on his clothes.

"A file?" he repeated, his voice a low growl. "What kind of file?”

"Information. Your information.” You followed his example, pulling on your scrubs.

He let out a ragged breath, his gaze shifting away from yours as he processed your words. It was clear that he was struggling with his emotions, his usual icy exterior slipping as he battled his inner turmoil.

"And… what did this file say about me?" he asked quietly, his voice betraying a hint of wariness.

As he sat there, trembling with emotions he was struggling to keep under control, you could see the turmoil in his eyes. It was a side of the Winter Soldier you had never seen before, a glimpse of the tormented soul hiding beneath the gruff exterior.

He clenched his metal fist, the plates shifting as his fingers flexed and unflexed. His breathing was ragged, and you could hear the faint whirring of the gears in his prosthetic arm as tension thrummed through him.

You were about to say more when the door flew open. The sudden entry of Karpov was like a bucket of cold water dousing the already tense atmosphere in the room. Bucky froze, every muscle in his body tensing in an instant, as if preparing for some unseen attack.

His expression hardened, all traces of vulnerability and emotion vanishing in an instant. He looked every bit the deadly assassin he was, his body poised and ready for combat.

Soldat's life had been defined by the will and agendas of others for so long, to the point where the concept of thinking for himself was practically foreign. He was a puppet, a weapon wielded by whatever master held his leash. He had been brainwashed and conditioned for decades, manipulated and used like a tool. Decades of obedience and submission had worn away any sense of self-determination or autonomy.

He knew only how to follow orders, how to act as he was told. He had been a soldier, a ghost, a machine. His life was not his own. But for a while, when he was with you, he could forget.

Karpov barked out his orders, demanding that his asset return to the stasis chamber. With practiced obedience, Soldat rose to his feet at Karpov's command. There was a glazed look in his eyes, a look of resignation mixed with the haunting emptiness that had become all too familiar to you.

Karpov didn't wait to see if Soldat would comply. He knew there was no choice involved. He moved mechanically, like a puppet on strings, his body responding automatically to Karpov's orders. He didn't even look at you as he walked past, his gaze fixed straight ahead as he followed his handler without question.

You followed them to the stasis chamber room where you were ordered to insert his IV. As you were preparing him for the memory wiping procedure, his voice caught you off guard. He was usually quiet, stoic, as he waited for the sedative to take effect. But this time, he had spoken to you, his words so quiet you almost didn't catch them.

You paused, looking down at him as you tried to make sense of his words. "Next time, Kotyonok." The words hung in the air, a secret shared between you in this cold, clinical room.

Soldat lay still, his body restrained in the stasis chamber, as the memory-wiping procedure began. The machinery whirred to life, gears and fluids flowing through tubes and wires, preparing to wipe away all trace of his memories.

And then, just seconds before the process fully took hold, a single tear crept down his cheek, a small, almost imperceptible sign of the frightened man beneath the fearsome assassin. A brief moment of vulnerability before the darkness took over once again.

Chapter 6B <MASTERLIST > Chapter 8

#winter soldier smut #bucky barnes smut #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier fan fiction #bucky barnes fan fiction #winter soldier x you #bucky barnes x you #behind blue eyes

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