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the-monkeies-girl · 4 months

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um hi first time requester here i hope im doing it right. can you give us more noa x reader hedcanons please i'm so happy to find someone writing for him

Noa x Human ! Reader Imagines - Part Two.

Let's go babey round TWO. We are eating good today. This ended up being like 3 fanfics rolled into one. 5K+ Words haha. Likes, comments, reblogs always appreciated! Enjoy reading. Fandom: ( Kingdom of the ) Planet of the Apes. Pairing: Noa x Human ! Reader. Rating: T. ( Just for safe measure. Some mentions of aggression, mating. That good stuff. ) Read Part One Here.

Slow Burn Series: Customary. Gone Hunting.

**Does contain spoilers for Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes.

Noa singing to the Eagles. He felt like he never had the talent. At least, not in the way that his father did. What happened with Proximus Caesar months ago… Noa reflected on that and rested his hand down on the tightly knit together wooden branches that served as a platform high above the whole of the Eagle Clan. It had to have been a fluke of nature, maybe stupid luck that he was able to preserve and get his Eagle to cooperate instead of scratching his arm to unrecognition. Shuffling a bit to the right and out of the council's den, Noa noted that there were still some items that were out of place from the raid of his village. Some small jars tipped over, out of view to anyone who wasn’t looking for a mess. Bird feathers were fallen on the ground, flocking it beyond knowledge that there was even wood there. Noa, being so familiar here, knew otherwise but others would make the unsafe assumption that they were simply being held in animation by a structure made from bird feathers. Small bits of ash here and there from the fire, but the structure itself was able to be repaired to be used again. He was grateful for that.

It was… Where he last was with his father, where he had been crowned shortly after, blue feathers now adorning the band that encased his right bicep, where he felt he had time to reflect and dwindle into nothingness, to not be important because to himself, he rarely ever was and it seemed the feeling was only enhanced now that he was responsible for the wellbeing of everyone in his Clan. They came first, Noa came last. Protect them at the sacrifice of himself. Noa nodded at that, self-assured. He had just disbanded with his council, nothing of interest picking up through the muddled nature of his thoughts. Just talk about the repairs to the village, about the next round of young Apes who were going to be bonded with their own feathery friend… Most days, Noa felt inclined to participate, he was their leader now. But today, there was not a possibility that he could even engage in regular conversation.

He grumbled under his breath, and a few of the birds reacted purely to the sound, not necessarily to Noa himself; that was what he tried to convince his mind to believe as his own Eagle, which used to be his own fathers, landed on his shoulder. There was minimal effort put into the sounds as he began circling the room slowly, looking at each of the Eagles that rested there, so delicate and fierce on their perches. He wished to be that… Strong, unafraid, and confident. Puffing his chest out, Noa feigned fake confidence before ultimately blowing the air out of his lungs, shoulders falling in some mild defeat. He seemed to shrink in on himself before returning to his rotation of the room.

For every round he made with his feet, his vocals grew ever so gently in intensity, his mouth now making an obvious ‘O’. Apes were not known to be great at singing ( at least Chimpanzees ), but they were known to make communication with sounds. Singing was the only way to describe it, and it took Noa nearly a month to explain to you what the sound actually was because he was unsure of the word. He was too self-aware to actually demonstrate. A lot of back and forth ensued. It was not a hoot, it was not a holler. It was…. Humming. Almost, crying in sound. Screeching if he were loud enough. He wasn’t though. He kept it hushed, intimate and private between himself and his birds.

And you didn't have it in your heart to say anything or move, almost splayed completely on your stomach, trying to ignore the jabbing pain in your ribs from resting on the hard wood that served as a ramp upwards towards the Ape you had come to see. He had to have been at least two meters above you at this point, maybe more. It was a stupid decision, you knew that. He’d kick you out from being in such a sacred place to his people. Why you felt drawn here, why you wanted to see him… All rational thought disappeared when you heard him. Noa had told you that this is how bonding went. You sang to your bird in the same way the egg sang to you to be chosen. You hadn’t seen it in practice, until now. Glancing up, you could see the shape of his feet through some of the thickets of wood, a few feathers falling through the cracks and gracefully landing either on you, or nearby. Would he stop if he knew you were there? You wondered and clenched your jaw.

Most likely he’d stop, you figured. Noa wasn’t one to do this in front of others out of fear or embarrassment. The only time he did it was to save his Clan. He’d do it again, sure, but to sing for them ceremoniously was a terrifying thought that was inevitably going to come to fruition some day. He told you time and time again though, the customs, the crown that had been metaphorically passed down to him from his father, the burden, the great angst he felt knowing that it all rested on him. He never flat out expressed that’s how it was, how he was feeling with his inner turmoil, but it became more frequently observed the longer you were in the care of the Eagle Clan. You so desperately wanted to help him.

Grasping a feather in front of you between your fingertips, you propped yourself up to sit and then to stand. Giving one more glance up at Noa, you turned to leave, deciding that you had no reason to be there; you couldn’t come up with one if he put you on the spot. He’d tell you the same, you were so sure of that. But… There was one irrefutable fact in all of this regardless.

Noa knew you were there the entire time.

Noa offering you an animal pelt. ‘They get… cold.’ Raka’s words echoed for a long time in Noa’s mind as he peered over at you, observing the nature of your smaller frame sitting so intently near the communal fire of the Clan. Some chatter off to the side from some Apes also enjoying the fire, but they were out of sight, out of mind for Noa. You were so close that the roar of the flames pushed back the hair from your face, giving the male Ape an exceptionally good view of your expression, even from the distance he was at.

You even had your eyelids shut, he noted before turning his head back towards his hands, only momentarily before he was looking right back at you. You were truly soaking in as much warmth as you possibly could. The waves of light encapsulated in some elegant dance as the blaze flickered across your body. Noa was left feeling slightly mesmerized by that like he would float over to you if you beckoned him. You were covered, shoulders and below, draped in unfamiliar clothing.

Today was the first time Noa had seen you wearing a long sleeve shirt and pants that swept you up, almost consuming due to the large nature of them. You had tied a loose knot around the waist to keep the bottom piece from falling, but he did notice you picking them up here and there as you moved throughout the day. It was obvious that they weren’t tailored to your body, but when you had stumbled upon them and snagged them for yourself, you didn't want to complain. Any sort of clothing was valuable, especially as the winter was coming. There wasn’t much else to that, Noa thought to himself and rested what he was tinkering with down on the bench in front of him.

You seemed content enough, Noa dubbed and gave himself a small smile. It faded just as quickly as it came, the knowledge that someone could see him absolutely enamored like a fool begging for attention from his most desired… Was not very leader-like. Noa felt like he’d snap at someone if they were to bring it up, bring you up as if they had a right to talk freely about you. Well… The joke was on Noa. They absolutely had the right but that didn't stop him from thinking of ways to deter people from doing that. He cherished the jealousy and harnessed it into a protective shield. He cherished you and the feelings that subsided in both his mind and body.

Those seemingly unrequited feelings were what spurred him from his perched seat and setting a small pace towards his nest. You’d be okay for just a minute or two, he figured and scattered a bit more quickly. Shuffling in your spot, you had only taken your eyes off of him here and there as your eyelids rested shut from the tiredness that swept over you in waves. That’s what the heat did to you; made you tired beyond comprehension. Maybe, you muttered inside of your head, you’d just tip right over and fall asleep on the ground rather than making the needed transverse back to your nest of twigs, feathers and smaller animal pelts. You must have dozed off regardless of your train of thought because when you looked up at where Noa had been sitting previously, it was vacant.

You blinked. Something hung on your shoulders. You blinked again, hearing a small bit of heavier breathing coming from your left side. Just a few soft hooing notions to let you know that he was near, not a threat. Submissive, if that’s what you wanted. For a lingering moment, it almost felt like there was a hand, delicately moving against your left shoulder blade, pressing in and out as if probing you to make sure you were still alive, but with sleep on your horizon of your body, it was hard to determine if that happened or if it was what you wanted to happen. Wanted Noa to do.

With your eyes shut at the pleasant sensation of the animal pelt, you drew a deep breath in and relished in the added feeling of your lungs expanding so lazily; like you were being smothered and taken down into a dark but very warm point of interest. “Hmmm.” You murmured out loud. It smelled remarkably rich once you were able to process that along the teetering line of slumber. Like a conifer tree, vines draping themselves delicately over building ruins, grainy like the Earth. There was one more note there, something incredibly fragrant. Familiar and it caused you to grasp at the item around your shoulders to dig your nose closer to it. It was a smell you savored more than you cared to admit, but in your sleepy stupor, it was happily acknowledged verbally.

“Noa.”

He was rock silent next to you, green eyes wide with surprise at the surmise of his name falling from your lips. So… so nice, Noa thought to himself, head tilting to the side in a subconscious bid to get closer to you. There was an intense and increased magnitude of his stare when you pulled the animal pelt he placed around you closer. Closer, Noa seethed softly at that, so close to you, on you… On… His thoughts came to a slow pause as he just viewed you again. You were clutching at the pelt, holding it closed against your chest.

Tameless thoughts hit the young Ape like a wave coming from the absolute silence his mind had previously been in. What it must feel like to have you hold him, what it must feel like to have Echo hand in his fur, pulling him closer, closer. He would beg you, scratch you, bite you if you pleased. If that’s what you wanted of him. Noa had no idea where this surge of ideology, of aggression came from but he did nothing to dampen it. Not when it felt so viciously good to indulge in. His lips parted, sharp canines glistening so delicately in the firelight as he hooted again, not loud enough to wake, but loud enough for him to selfishly remind you that he was there. Yes, yes yes… He chittered, moving side to side on all fours for a second before taking a sharp pace to the right and then back to the left before sitting properly next to you, solaced and draped deliciously as he stared at you. The absolute desire he had to perform such acts, such… Such vulgarity…

He couldn’t stop, he-he… Didn't want to.

Noa welled at that, revered it and felt a sense of accomplishment. You liked it! No, no, he hooted to himself so quietly, taking time to observe you again to confirm his thoughts. You were loving it. He had seen you in various states before. Embarrassed, angry, flustered, minorly injured, reminiscent, but this… Was beyond anything he had seen before. Something stirred inside of him as he sat back, now resting his body against a log for support so he didn't need to put in active thought into keeping himself up-right. He’d wait until you were awake enough, the decision was made, and let you know it was time to go back to your nest for the night. Just a few more minutes, Noa bargained with the most introspective parts of his mind, almost beaming with primal pride that he was able to keep you satisfied. You were vulnerable.

Seeing his nest for the first time. Your lips parted, slightly dry from the air that rolled around the quiet village. You couldn’t bring yourself to do anything as you stared at Noa who unwaveringly stared right back, waiting silently for an answer to a question just asked. But oddly, it felt like there was no question. Shock rocketed through you like you were being electrocuted. It started in your feet, feeling slightly numb before completely overtaking the rest of your senses. You felt blind, almost half tempted to put your hand out to touch something, you felt mute, a hard lump now sitting at the back of your esophagus and it felt like you would throw up if you tried to swallow it down, you couldn’t hear anything outside of your own breathing which made you feel even more isolated. It was hard and rigid, you were nervous and trying to hold it in but it was untimely and bursting at the seams. You knew that Noa noticed and he either didn't put much thought into your reaction to his six signed words. Had you just seen his signing right? Maybe he said something different and your eyes were playing tricks on you! In broad daylight.

Do. You. Want. To. Come. In.

Mentally, you slapped your forehead out of meager frustration. Why did you have to follow him all the way up the platformed structure? Why didn't you stop yourself like you always did? It was not a permission you gave yourself; to be anywhere near his personal space. You’d meet in communal spaces, or out in the field Noa favored. Never personal, never too close… You must not have noticed your feet transition from grass to dirt to wood. You were so transfixed on Noa who sauntered back to his nest to grab something he had forgotten, that you followed blindly. Physically, you raised your hands before dropping them in favor of actually talking. It was quiet and reserved, Noa noticed and he found himself pacing forward just a bit as he had a harder time hearing it, wood creaking as it settled under his weight.

“You want me to come in?” Your voice came to a tapering squeak but you tried your damndest to keep it under wraps. You should have signed, you dummy… Deep down, you knew that Noa had observed that but what you didn't know with any sort of confidence was that he was forcing himself to ignore that heat-skipping a beat feeling he’s been getting more frequently around you. “I don’t know Noa, that’s your home, I would…”

“I…” He started slowly before raising one hand to sign reassuringly, ‘I… would like you to.’ It was your turn for your heart to do that infamous skip a beat. Swallowing hard, you dug your heels into the wood platform below your feet to keep you from floating off at the idea. No! You snapped, it wasn’t just an idea… It was an opportunity that was now given to you, Noa metaphorically holding his hand out to see if you would reciprocate in any form. He was offering you inside, to see Noa’s nest. Where he slept, bided his time, enjoyed solitude when his Mother wasn’t around, when Anaya was getting on his nerves, when Soona was pestering him in her typical sisterly fashion… You figured the question begged was just Noa being accommodating. You figured him telling you that he would like you to was just his way of being polite. Figuring you would not be comfortable to wait outside for him, knowing more about you that you cared to admit in the moment.

If all things went according to how you wanted them to be, you’d jump on that chance. But, you found yourself pensively contemplating if you wanted to step over that metaphorical threshold, this one in the shape of an entryway. The one that landed right in the palm of Noa’s hand. You’d be a bald faced liar if you tried to convince yourself that you weren’t curious. Curling your fingers into your palms, you noticed that they were profusely sweaty. Would it be deemed rude if you denied him? If you said no, convince him you were fine waiting outside? You had no idea how he would perceive that, “Okay.”

Wait. What did you just say? Wait!

Your feet once again began moving without permission, gliding yourself right along Noa’s right side as he offered you to go on first, his hand gesturing repeatedly to the room. Quick in succession. There was no way he was excited, was there? The idea tickled your brain but you shoved it back and drew a deep breath in. From his perspective, Noa watched your rib cage expanding under the soft fabric of your shirt and then regressing back inwards slowly. Meditative breathing, he figured, to keep you calm.

There was nothing calm about this though. Your stomach felt like it was beyond the floor, now sinking deep underground, your ears pricked with anticipation. The fur on his bicep tickled at the bare skin of your arm, caressing and smoothing itself there as you were now shoulder to shoulder with him and you swore you felt his breathing against your neck when he glanced at you, counteractive to your own self soothing breaths. Hard, heavy and fast. Noa didn't know how to cover that up which was ironic because you were so convinced you managed to stave your nerves off.

You step over that threshold, you step over a line that was there for good reason. The rational part of your brain was so annoying.

You pushed yourself forward and with the blink of an eye you were inside. It was… Unremarkably remarkable. Nothing really popped at you, eyes processing through a darkened mess. Nothing in particular you noticed right off the bat, it was a dim lighting, the only two sources being a small fire pit that was begging to be put out, the pieces of wood small and frail, giving just enough energy to hold a mild orange hue and that of an opening to the right, reminiscent of a window of sorts lightly covered by a cloth. Sun peeped in and illuminated only enough to navigate and not pick apart any details. You smiled to yourself at that detail you were able to see. So, he did believe in privacy, why else have what you would consider a curtain? It wasn’t just an Echo thing like he so often pinned.

You shifted to the left and allowed Noa to enter right behind you. He was fast, hunching his body in on all fours, the pattering of his hands and feet entrapping you for a few seconds. He swept to the right, wanting to observe you in vague silence. In his space, green eyes narrowed as you stepped further in, your fingers coming up to touch a leather strap that was hanging against the wall. That was his hunting sheath, holding his spear against his back when out.

You were incredibly grateful as you felt your eyes adjusting to the lighting, able to see more details as you trailed along the left wall, almost as if you were afraid to actually dive further in. It smelt like Noa - Rich in flavors that teased your tongue. Trees surely, but trees bathed in sunlight in the late summer afternoons, smoke from the ashes of fires that burned endlessly, the absolute deepest part of the Earth that you could beckon… Shutting your eyes at that, you tried to document it somewhere in your mind. You needed to remember it, needed to recall this when you were alone later. Noa’s smell became so familiar, but being so near now, it was suffocating you and it threw an absolute chill down your spine.

Noa observed your fingers then raising, causing the Ape to perk up in baited anticipation of you saying something. Nothing came to fruition, but your fingertips were now held in animation against the feathers of his ceremony cloak, lightly placed on what appeared to be a small bench. It was splattered artistically with the blue feathers of the Eagles, the Falcons he had grown up with, admired. Friendly, you thought, with what appeared to be necklaces sitting right next to it, some with adjacent feathers to match the cloak, one holding a large engraved wooden pendant. It was so intricate and you felt the urge to run your fingers along the carved channels. All had been his fathers, tracing back several generations until it landed in Noa’s hands. Some of his most prized possessions. Hooting at that as if he were scolding you, fingers stopped touching around the feathers and you looked over at him, almost whipping yourself around, heart now jumping itself into your throat. He didn't mean to startle, but he just wanted to make you rightfully aware that what you were touching was a delicate garment. Your eyes told him you were sorry and so he allowed you to continue on.

You had turned your attention now to the tinker items he had stored. A few spear heads, some more dull than others, a few more tools that Noa frequented when something needed to be fixed. Against the wall next to his bench was an iron pipe, rusted from years of being exposed to nature. Fleetingly, you wondered why he kept it but didn't want to give off the impression you were judging him by asking why he did. Unbeknownst to you, he wondered so morbidly what you were thinking. Good or bad? Did you like it? Did you… Not…? Like his things? Noa couldn’t see your face, only your shoulders as you were turned away from him now, moving further into the room. Bad choice of sitting so far away from you, he thought to himself, scolding the immature mistake. He should have followed you around. Closer he was, the easier it was to see. He felt his fingers twitch as you came around and looked at his nest, queering it to be the next thing to inspect. Yes, please! Admire it. Say something about it! He yelled inside of his head. He wanted to ask you if you liked it, if you cared to share. If it was suitable.

Inappropriate to ask, Noa berated himself and sat back, realizing he had set himself in almost a pounce-like position.

Branches were spewed all over in a circular motion that tightly knitted itself as it got closer to the center, feathers from the eagles nestled deeply between thickets of animal pelts, some bigger than others. Rabbits, you noticed, maybe a fox as your eyes scored over a red hued pelt. One that was remarkably bigger than the rest; it had to have been a bear. Had he hunted it himself? You tilted your head and moved forward to get a better glance at it. It was a messy assortment and that felt strangely… Endearing. Noa was often quiet and reserved, not much to talk about himself he had told you, only answering your questions when he felt they garnered answers. You were getting more answers from this simple analysis of his nest than you had gotten with words before.

Noa remained silent, your body turning to face him as you were admiring, at least he hoped you were, his nest. His choice of pelts, his choice of comfort and security. You crouched down into a squatting position to get a better view at the nature of his nest. Taking in the smaller details that were resting there. Were you… repoaching him? He wondered with a tilt of his head. You had not said one word to him, did not raise your hand to sign. Did… Nothing. He did not know. He did not know what you were thinking. Frustration rose in him for a split second. He’d tear your head open just to know what you were thinking. Noa’s mouth popped into an open ‘O’ shape when he watched you place a hand on one of his animal pelts. He knew the outcome of that alone; it would smell like you and he was going to obsess about it when alone. He had something now, something personal, that held your scent.

You finally broke the silence and Noa felt a sheer force of relief hit him in waves, one after the other at each of your words, “Very Noa.”

Hm… His mouth fell, agape ever so slightly and you could see the glimmer of his canines as he caught the sun peeking through his make-shift curtain. His green eyes burned desolate holes into your own, Noa noting that you weren’t moving to break said eye contact. Carefully, he did so himself, afraid of some repercussions if he continued to look at you the way he was. Wrought with feral need. He forced himself back into the moment, back into what you said. Were your words an approval? It had to be, the tone of your voice was not aggressive, mean, passive… It was as gentle as he had heard it in a while, only recollecting once or twice that tone being used. Often, in conversations that were more affectionate than others. Rare, but Noa was familiar enough.

“Someday,” He rumbled, the sound of his voice pitching every which way as he was now scrambling to get his bearings. “Will share. With mate.” It had to have been your imagination to see him vaguely gesture to you at the word ‘mate’. Yup, just your imagination which was still running outlandishly wild at the prospect of where you were.. “With family. It is the way of the Eagle Clan.” You nodded, understanding that from previous conversations where he had opened up a bit more about his culture. The mere thought of him someday having a mate, a family, was a bit of a sting, but it wasn’t outside of the realms of reality. For the sake of the Eagle Clan, he eventually needed to provide an heir. And in order to do that, it required a mate. You'd lose him one way or another...

Noa looked over at you, enjoying the tentative feature that found your face. Noa crept a bit closer to you, trying to be as smooth as possible. Gliding is how he wanted to appear. Not to startle, not to intimidate but he wondered if you were by nature. After all, he was an Ape, you were human, together in a room with not any other creatures around. The absolute dissolution he could put you in, not knowing that you had the same power over him.

It was like he was stalking prey, you thought to yourself, Noa finally rounded the circular nest that you were still admiring. Or at least, pretending to admire as he placed his brooding body next to yours, crouching to the same level as to be face to face with him. His apparent scent only got stronger at that motion putting you into some brief tizzy. From the distance you found yourselves at, you could see the striking nature of his eyes in full force. Pupils were blown beyond comprehension, darkening only when he felt you tracing the features of his face. Around said pupils were a thin line of his regular green eyes, maybe a few specks of gold floating around. He was still child-like in some aspects, youthful was a better word. His brow ridge was strong, hereditary as he was always destined to be the leader of his Clan. Always destined to be the alpha. The swooping wrinkles under his eyes always gave the impression that he was tired, but being so close to him now, you saw them under hood eyes. He was begging silently.

His skin was varied in color; darker patches hitting his brow line, starting from his nose, upwards into his fur. There was a spot of normally colored skin on his nose, dipping in color when it met the fur on the sides of his face and around his chin. Very much like a human sporting a beard, you thought to yourself. The fur on his face was not completely shelled in darkness. It was remarkably lighter compared to that of his body and it accented his features perfectly in your mind. You lingered on his nose for a split second - never realizing it was shaped like a cartoon heart that you had seen in some children's books. Snapping your gaze up, you met his eyes again. Darker than they were before.

He was wearing an expression you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Not intimidation. You had seen your fair share of intimidated Apes. Not angry. Also have seen your fair share. It was almost… Like he was languishing. You wanted to know what his features felt like under your grasp… You wanted to hold his face closer to yours and consume… An animalistic bearing hit your chest. Without remark, you lifted your hand up, breaking no eye contact. Noa let it happen, seeing the movement out of his periphery. You were going to touch him, he prepared himself for that, all nerves standing on end. The fur lining his shoulders rose in eagerness, his mouth still agape was mumbling something wordless, soundlessly. You were going to touch him. He was certain his heart was going to climb out of his chest. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to hold onto his sanity. Noa preemptively shut his eyes.

Relief…

Never came.

Just as quickly as you decided to move forward, you were pulling back. Two steps, maybe even three. Noa squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before letting them open. You were gone, leaving nothing for him other than a pelt that smelt like you.

#kingdom of the planet of the apes #kotpota #noa x reader #noa x human reader #planet of the apes #pota #owen teague #fanfiction #fanfic #emmy writes #planet of the apes x reader

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scoonsalicious · 3 months

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10.4 Major

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, alcohol consumption, drunkenness, brief mentions of sexual situations.

Word Count: 3.6k

Previously On...: Bucky ran to Lily for comfort after running out on you. Despite her best efforts, Bucky realized he done fucked up, A-aron.

A/N: Sorry for the delay. Everything but this and all of you is shit right now, lol.

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

After Bucky had stormed out of The WarZone that evening, you had tried to call him. Dozens of times. At first, he’d declined the calls, but soon, they went straight to voicemail, and you knew he had turned off his phone. Either that, or he’d blocked you.

You knew he would be upset when he saw the contents of that envelope, but for him to make those accusations of you, and then to run away without even giving you an opportunity to speak or explain yourself? To say you were pissed off would be an understatement. So, you did the one thing that came to your mind as a way of dealing with the pain and frustration you were feeling: you went home and drank.

You’d been obsessively staring at her phone screen as you put back glass after glass of wine, willing Bucky to call you and apologize, to text asking for your side of the story, for anything, really, but after hours of his silence, you finally had enough and composed a single message to him:

>> When you’re done with your temper tantrum and want to talk like a grown up, you know where to find me.

Probably not the most mature thing you could have done, but you had been drinking, after all. Besides, it’s not like it had mattered; he’d never answered, anyway. You’d probably never hear from him again. That thought, amplified by the alcohol, had sent you down a dark tunnel of tears and ugly sobs. You honestly couldn’t remember ever crying this much over a man– not even when you’d found out about Connor’s affair, and you’d been married for nearly a decade; no, that had felt more like a relief, like finally having an answer to a question that had been stumping you for ages. But now, here you were, a blubbering mess over a man you hadn’t even known for a full week.

You weren’t sure what hurt the most about it: the fact that he thought you went looking for that information, the words he’d said to you, or the way he ran out without even hearing your side of things. You didn’t even have the bandwidth to consider the betrayal of him going through your private papers.

There had just been so much potential with Bucky. So much promise. It could have been something beautiful and amazing, and now, it was over before it had even had a chance to really begin. And that just made you sad. Sad, and lonely. Maybe you’d finally get yourself a cat. Yeah, that seemed like a good idea. Perhaps it was finally time to embrace your destiny as a spinster cat lady, just like your mother had always threatened since your divorce. Why fight the inevitable?

A soft knock at your door took you out of your depression spiral. You quickly glanced at your clock– 10:45 pm. Far too late for a social call. Most likely, your nextdoor neighbor, Jeremy, had locked himself out of his apartment and wanted to hang out at yours until maintenance came by with the master key, again.

Wiping the tears from your eyes, you made a move to stand, but the alcohol sent a wave of dizziness through your system and you almost fell stumbling back down to the couch. This time, you moved more slowly, holding on to furniture for support as you shuffled toward the front door. When you made it about half way, you heard a voice from the hallway that definitely did not belong to Jeremy. You froze.

“Sugar? Are you there? Will you open up, please?”

Shit. What the fuck was Bucky doing here? You couldn’t possibly talk to him right now– your face was an absolute mess from crying and you were still so drunk. And what if he was still angry?

You considered your next course of action. Opening the door was a no go– any conversation could only end in disaster. For the same reason, you couldn’t try to talk to him through the door. Knowing the effect he had on you, it would probably only be a few minutes before you were letting him in, begging him to fuck you. No, the best thing to do would be to retreat to your bedroom and hide until he went away. Maybe he would just assume you weren’t home.

Yes, that was the way to do it. To your wine-soaked brain, this seemed entirely logical. You turned to head back into your bedroom, but you missed-stepped and banged your shin into one of your end tables.

“Fuck,” you hissed in pain, trying to keep your voice down as you rubbed what would no doubt become a spectacular bruise.

“Doll?” Bucky called from the hallway. “I know you’re in there. I just heard you. Please let me in. I just want to talk to you.”

Damn it.

Without another thought, you hightailed it back into your bedroom, throwing yourself under the covers. Just hearing the sound of his voice through the door brought back the memory of his tirade from earlier in the day, and the words he’d spoken to you:

“You wanna know how many people I killed that didn’t make it into those files, because I promise you, sugar, there’s a hell of a lot. You want to know about the time Hydra sent me to kill an ambassador, told me to leave no witnesses, and I took out his wife and his two kids, too? ‘Cause they couldn’t have been more than ten years old. That kind of thing get you off, doll?”

The rage in his voice had been palpable, and if you were being honest, it had scared you. Not the rage, itself. You knew he was capable of it. No, what had frightened you was how quickly he had turned that rage on to you.

The thought brought a fresh wave of tears, and before you knew it, you were crying yourself into a fitful, restless slumber.

There was an incessant pounding coming from the living room that echoed the pounding in your skull. Moaning, you rolled over and picked up your phone to glance at the time. 1:47am. The pounding persisted, and it took your now hungover brain a moment to realize someone was knocking on your front door.

With a groan, you shoved your head under your pillow, hoping whoever was there would go the fuck away and leave you to die in peace.

“Ms. (Y/L/N), it’s the NYPD; please open your door.” Well. That got your attention. Sitting bolt upright, you jumped out of bed and nearly tripped trying to get to the door in a hurry.

You checked the peep hole, making sure it actually was one of New York’s finest, and opened the door.

“Can I help you, officer?” you asked, leaning against the door frame.

The officer gave you the once over and smirked, and it was then you remembered you’d chosen a pair of boyshort panties and an off-the shoulder cropped Army t-shirt for your pajamas that night. With a scowl, you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Are you “(Y/N) (Y/L/N)?” the officer asked, obviously amused by your discomfort.

“I am,” you nodded. “What is this about?”

“Do you know this man?” the officer stepped aside, revealing Bucky, who was standing sheepishly off to the side of the door where you hadn’t been able to see him at first.

“Hey, doll,” he said with a shameful half smile and small wave.

“One of your neighbors found him sleeping against your door and called us. He claims he’s your boyfriend and he was just waiting for you to let him in. Since he’s an Avenger, I figured I’d give him a chance to prove his story before I booked him for trespassing.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. You were far too hungover to be dealing with this right now. “He’s not my boyfriend,” you clarified, and you didn’t miss Bucky’s face falling at your words. “But we are dating.” You stood back from the doorframe, making some space. “Come inside,” you told him with an exasperated sigh.

Bucky gave the officer an “I told you so” smirk and shoulder checked him before going inside your condo. You rolled your eyes at the childish display of machismo. You thanked the officer and moved to close the door, but he put a hand out, preventing you from closing it.

“Are you going to be safe if I leave you alone with him?” he asked you in a low voice, all trace of his earlier smirk gone. “Do you have any reason to fear for your life?”

You couldn’t help it– you snorted in laughter. “God, no,” you said. Yes, Bucky’s anger had frightened you, but you couldn’t believe he would ever go so far as to actually hurt you. He just wasn’t that kind of man, right? “I promise you, officer, I’m perfectly safe with Mr. Barnes. I mean, he’s an Avenger.”

The officer nodded. “Just making sure, miss. My partner and I will stay in the area; if there’s any trouble, call 911 and we’ll be nearby.” You thanked him for his concern, but assured him it wouldn’t be needed. He tipped his cap to you and headed for the elevator.

You closed the door and leaned against it with a sigh. You needed to get some liquid in you. Immediately.

Without sparing a glance at Bucky, who was standing by your coffee table, studiously avoiding looking at you, you made your way into the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water.

“Boyfriend, huh?” you said eventually, keeping your back to him as you ran the glass under your refrigerator’s water dispenser.

“Yeah… I wasn’t sure what to say to him to get him to let me stay,” he said, and his voice was closer now; you could tell he’d followed you to the kitchen.

“What are you doing here, Bucky?” you asked. You took a couple of sips from your glass before finally turning to face him. He looked… rough. His hair was disheveled, his clothes were wrinkled, and his eyes were red-rimmed, as though he, too, had spent some of the last several hours crying.

Bucky swallowed thickly. “I came to apologize if you’ll let me,” he said, looking intently at your face. “Shit, sugar– have you been crying? Did I– fuck– I made you cry, didn’t I? I’m so sorry, doll.”

You let out a short bark of a laugh. Part of you wanted to throw your arms around him, bury your face into his shoulder, and never let him go, but what he had said to you earlier in the day was… well, it was horrendous and uncalled for, and you couldn’t, out of respect for yourself, just let it slide without some kind of explanation, and some real groveling.

“Explain yourself,” you said shortly, crossing your arms over your chest once again, as though putting a physical barrier between the two of you.

Bucky swallowed and moved back toward your living room and began to pace. You followed, keeping a decent amount of distance between the two of you.

“I freaked out when I saw what was in that envelope,” he said. “As you no doubt know by now, I did a lot of shit, back when Hydra had me, that I’m not proud of. I’m… well, I guess you could say ‘sensitive about it’ would be an understatement. I carry a lot of guilt for what they made me do, and a lot of shame. Ever since I…” he paused, mulling over his word choice, “came back to myself, for good, I’ve been trying to make amends for all the harm I caused. To make things right. I know I can never erase all the pain I inflicted, bring back the people I killed, but I try to… to make things better. Where I can.”

He slumped down into one of your armchairs, a look of defeat crossing his handsome features. “It’s never going to be enough,” he sighed. “I know that. There are always going to be people who look at me, and only see the Soldier. No matter what I do, how much I atone, or how many lives I save, they’ll never see Bucky Barnes.”

“I told you from the beginning, Bucky,” you said, leaning against the wall that divided the living room from the kitchen, “it was obvious to me that you were blameless. A victim. And so, for you to accuse me of getting off on—”

“I know, sugar,” Bucky interrupted. He was looking up at you with sorrowful eyes. “I never should have accused you of that; I was an ass. I was…” he averted his eyes, embarrassed to admit this next part to you. “I was afraid.”

“Afraid.” You rolled the word around on your tongue. “Bucky, you’re a super soldier. A fucking Avenger. What the hell do you have to be afraid of?”

“I was afraid that if you saw the real me, what I had done, you’d run screaming in the other direction,” he admitted without looking back at you. “Or, that the only reason a dame like you could be interested in a guy like me was because you were attracted to the darkness. To the monster. That it wasn’t actually me you were into, but the Soldier.” He finally looked up at you in time to see the puzzled look you gave him.

“It happened before,” he said, voice low and shamed. “There was this girl– her name was Jessica– and I thought I was in love with her, you know? Thought maybe I’d finally found my person. Was gonna ask her to move in with me but, turns out she just had a thing for the Soldier. She got off on the violence of it.” He looked down at his vibranium hand, flexing and unflexing his fist. “The old one did so much damage. They had me use it to hurt so many innocent people, and then I found out she searched for Winter Soldier choke porn on my computer. This thing that had caused so much pain, brought me nightmares, that woke me up screaming at night, and it was her fucking kink.”

He looked back up at you, eyes desperate and pleading. “I couldn’t stand to go through something like that again. Not with you, Major. Especially not with you. So, I panicked, and I was an ass, and I hurt you before you could explain, because I didn’t want to give you a chance to hurt me.”

You sighed and moved away from the wall. He was weakening your resolve to be pissed at him by the second. In fact, your heart was breaking for him.

“And now I’ve ruined things between us,” he said, “before they even really had a chance to begin.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am, and I understand if you don’t want to forgive me. I was awful. I just… I just want you to know that I’ll always look back on the time we spent together as some of the best days of my life.” He made a move to stand up, but you took a step toward him.

“Oh my god, sit down, you idiot.” You walked closer, putting both your hands on his shoulders and slowly moving down to straddle his lap, his hands slipping almost subconsciously to your waist. “I don’t know if this is going to come back to bite me in the ass or not, but I forgive you.” You draped your arms around his neck and softly kissed the corner of his mouth. “Were you dumb? Yes. Did you overreact and behave like a child? Yes.” He narrowed his eyes at you, but you just playfully wrinkled your nose at him.

“But are your concerns understandable, after everything you’ve been through? Also, yes.” You began to toy with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “Next time you find yourself feeling like that, or questioning my motives, please promise me that you’ll talk to me instead of yelling at me and icing me out, okay?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, nodding profusely, “I can do that. I promise.”

“Good. Now, I feel this goes without saying, but I want to make sure we’re both on the same page, here,” you said to him. “ I did not seek out those documents. Someone sent them to me, anonymously. I didn’t tell you about them when I got them because I didn’t want to offend you or remind you of a past I know you don’t enjoy reminiscing about. I meant it when I said that I only want you to tell me if and when you’re ready, so I hadn’t done more than peruse the documents to get an idea of what they were and see if there were any hints as to where they came from. The only clue I have to the sender’s identity is a note where they wrote “Do you know who you’re fucking?” in black marker, but the letters are all blocky, so it’s not even like I can compare handwriting samples or something.”

Bucky’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “Oh, shit. Sugar, I’m so sorry. If someone is targeting you because of me…”

You blew out a raspberry and waved your hand dismissively. “I’m a big girl,” you told him. “I can take care of myself. I have a ton of guns and awards for marksmanship, so don’t worry about me.”

A corner of Bucky’s mouth tugged up. “That’s actually really hot,” he admitted. “Remind me to take you on a date to the shooting range sometime.”

You tried to bite back your grin, but failed miserably. “Cheeky of you to assume there’ll be more dates,” you teased him.

Bucky tightened his grip around your waist. “Are you saying there won’t be?” He looked genuinely concerned, and you didn’t want to tease him.

“That’s gonna depend on you, Bucky,” you told him. “I’m not Jessica, and I’m not going stand by and let you punish me for the ways she mistreated you. I can tell you right now: if you ever talk to me again the way you talked to me in my office, it will be the last time you ever talk to me, at all, do you understand?”

Bucky nodded. “I don’t want to lose you, Major,” he said, and you could feel the sincerity in every word; and you hoped that he would be true to his word. “I promise to never let my anger get the best of me and speak so disrespectfully to you ever again.”

You nodded, satisfied for now. “Good,” you said, standing up from his lap. “Then we can call it a night.”

Bucky rubbed his hands on his knees and stood up. “Uh, yeah,” he said. “I’ll, uh, just be heading back to the Compound, so…”

You tilted your head. “No. It’s late, Bucky. Come to bed.” You reached out a hand, and Bucky’s entire demeanor changed, his face lighting up with surprised, but cautious delight.

“Really?” he asked, as though he almost expected you to pull your hand away from him and tell him you were just joking.

You shrugged your shoulders. “I missed you,” you said simply. And it was true– it had only been a few hours, really, since your fight, but you had missed him. You had seriously considered that the two of you might be over for good, and you didn’t want to waste an opportunity to be close to him.

Bucky reached for your hand, pulling you into him in the process. You let out an ‘oof’ as you collided with his chest, but soon his arms were around you, the fingers of his flesh hand tangling in your hair.

“I missed you, too,” he said, leaning down to kiss you, and you felt yourself melt into his hold, the rough skin of his calloused right hand dragging along the exposed skin of your hip, the cold metal of the left tracing delicate patterns up and down your side. You could forgive him practically anything when he kissed you like this.

“We should go to sleep,” you said, breathlessly pulling away from his lips, “before we get ourselves worked up into a situation.”

He followed you into your bedroom, and you did your best to not ogle him as he stripped down to his boxer briefs. The second he joined you under the covers, you scooted over to snuggle yourself against him.

“You said we can’t get each other off,” you reminded him as you burrowed your head against his hard chest and rested a hand on his ass. “You didn’t say I couldn’t cop a feel.”

Bucky chuckled, wrapping his arms around you, and you could hear the rumble of it through his skin. “Yeah, that’s definitely a loop hole, sugar,” he said. He kissed the top of your head and rested his cheek against it. Slotting his knee between your thighs, the two of you fit together like perfect puzzle pieces.

“Goodnight, Bucky,” you said, trying to fight off a yawn.

“Goodnight, doll,” he replied, running his hands up and down your back. “Thank you for giving me a second chance. I promise, you won’t regret it.”

As you drifted off to the sound of his heartbeat, you couldn’t help but hope he was right.

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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scoonsaliciousupdates · 3 months

Text

10.2 Bucky

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Bucky invading privacy and getting the wrong idea, then not letting Major get a word in edgewise.

Word Count: 1.4k

Previously On...: You thought the envelope may have come from Rand, but after talking to him, you're pretty sure he didn't send it.

A/N: Sorry for the delay-- was running errands and thought I would be back in time, but then I got held up at a train crossing :P

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

He was about fifteen minutes early to pick up Major, but if he was being honest with himself, he couldn’t wait to see her again. He missed her every second he wasn’t near her, talking to her, holding her, just being in her presence. He was down bad for the girl, that was for sure, and he was going to take every extra minute he could get with her.

Opening the main door, he walked into the lobby and waved to Zadie as she was having a group of teenagers sign a waiver before arranging to have them go to a room.

“Hey, Sergeant Barnes!” she called out to him. “Major’s back in her office if you wanted to go surprise her. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind the interruption.” Zadie waggled her eyebrows at the implication, and Bucky stifled a laugh as he made his way back toward the door she’d pointed to.

The door to Major’s office was partially closed, and Bucky knocked, the force of it pushing the door open to reveal the empty office. Bucky stepped inside and, seeing her purse on the edge of her desk, assumed she must have stepped out to use the restroom; he was fifteen minutes early in coming to pick her up, after all. She would have thought she had time.

He used the opportunity to take in her space, the sophisticated office furniture colored in deep, earthy tones that gave Bucky a feeling of calm, similar to what he felt in her presence. He admired some framed medals on the wall from her time in the military, as well as some certificates of accomplishment, and he was pleased to see the orchid he’d bought her resting in a place of pride by the window.

He ran his fingers over the fuchsia petals, smiling to himself before turning toward her desk.

That was when he saw it. The envelope that had Major so worked up earlier in the day, her name and The WarZone’s Midtown address written in blocky, all caps. He took a step toward it, hand outstretched, but then pulled himself back. No, he thought. He wasn’t going to go through her private work documents. It was none of his business, really.

But… she had been so upset earlier. Maybe there was something he could do to help. He could just take a quick peak; that would totally be fine. He tilted the envelope and a stack of documents and photos came pouring out onto Major’s desk. At first, he couldn’t make sense of what he was looking at, as if the input from his eyes wasn’t making its way to his brain.

Every piece of paper that had come out of the envelope was about… him. He found himself flipping through the pages, barely allowing the contents to register. They were all photos of him, back when he was still the Asset, committing horrendous crimes. Each document was a report of something he’d done, a person he’d killed. As he flipped through them, his stomach fell through the floor, shame heating his face. Why did she have these? How did she get them?

Had she been looking into him? When she had told him, during their first date, that she would wait for him to tell her about his past when he was ready, had that all been a lie? But why? What would she have to gain from it?

He heard footsteps approaching and in seconds, Major was walking through the door of her office.

“Hey, you!” she exclaimed, her face lighting up in happiness when she saw him standing there. “You’re early! I hope you weren’t waiting too long on me. Just wanted to freshen my face before dinner tonight.” She walked around to where he was standing and draped her arms around his neck, leaning up to kiss him, but Bucky stood still, only turning his face from hers.

She pulled away from him, her expression concerned. “Bucky, what’s wrong?”

Without thought, his eyes darted to where the documents and photos lay spread haphazardly across her desk. He watched her gaze turn to follow his line of sight, and he saw her posture seem to deflate.

“Oh,” she breathed out. “Oh, Bucky, honey– I really didn’t want you to see those.”

“I’m sure,” he spat, and was rewarded when she pulled back from him in surprise. “Wouldn’t do you any good if I knew you were digging into my past, would it? Much better to keep me in the dark about it, right?”

“Bucky, what–” she began, but he interrupted her:

“Was all that talk about wanting to wait until I was comfortable with telling you about my past just a lie? Were you so goddamn curious, you couldn’t even wait to find all the gory details for yourself? You wanna know how many people I killed that didn’t make it into those files, because I promise you, sugar, there’s a hell of a lot. You want to know about the time Hydra sent me to kill an ambassador, told me to leave no witnesses, and I took out his wife and his two kids, too? ‘Cause they couldn’t have been more than ten years old. That kind of thing get you off, doll?”

She took a further step back from him, a look of disgust and confusion on her face, and Bucky suddenly didn’t want to deal with it. “You know what?” he said, stepping around her and walking to the door, “Fuck this.” He stormed out of her office and as he stomped through the lobby, he could hear Major calling after him, but he was beyond caring at this point.

He slammed through the front doors of The WarZone and back onto the street. Hopping onto his bike, he threw on his helmet and kicked it into gear, speeding away from Major and his past as fast as he could.

He reached upstate in record time; he was fortunate he hadn’t gotten pulled over for speeding. He certainly wouldn’t have taken that very well. He stopped at an intersection– one direction would take him back to the Compound, but the other would lead him into town. He considered his options for a split second before making his decision.

A few minutes later, he was pulling up to the front of a modest, but charming farmhouse. His safe haven for when life at the Compound got to be too much for him to handle, and he needed some peace and quiet to just decompress and be himself. He definitely needed that right now.

Bucky walked up the front path and onto the well-tended porch before giving the front door a series of strong knocks. Stepping back, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacked and waited, his eyes resting on the porch swing he had helped build two summers ago. He should probably check the chain to make sure it didn’t need to be oiled.

The door opened and there was Lily, a balm to his ragged psyche.

“Jamie,” she breathed, obviously surprised to see him. “What are you doing here? I thought you had dinner plans with Nat’s friend.”

Bucky grunted and poked the toe of his boot at a floor board that stuck out a little higher than its neighbor. “Don’t really want to talk about her right now, Lil,” he said. “Can I come in?”

Lily’s eyes widened as she stepped aside, making room for him to enter. “Yeah, of course. Um, I was just thinking of ordering some takeout. Are you hungry? I could get some pizzas.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said as he followed Lily into her kitchen, “that sounds good.” He took off his jacket and draped it over the back of one of her kitchen chairs. “Let me pay this time, though, okay? Since you’ll have to order an entire second pizza just for me.”

Lily smiled at him softly as she picked up her phone and navigated to the delivery app. “Obviously,” she told him with a hint of teasing in her voice. “Ham and pineapple on one, pepperoni on the other?”

Bucky sat down and stretched his arms over his head. “It’s like you read my mind.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

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serverusslaype · 1 year

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Shameless, pt. 10

Severus Snape x professor!reader fic

Shameless Masterpost

it's ya girl, back again...! 😼

hello, hi, how are you all? :) hope you are doing well! i'm feeling a lot better, i'm just congested now fml </3

this chapter is shorter, but not too short. as in it's not as long as the previous ones - they were like 6,000 words+, this is only 4,000-5,000 i think. The main reason is because it didn't really make sense to me to have it longer. so i hope you guys enjoy it!

thank you for all the likes, reblogs and most importantly the replies you left on the last chapter, they had me fucking dying oh my lord. 😭 you guys are so funny honestly. please keep leaving stuff like that it truly makes me laugh and makes my day 🌟🩷

Also guys what the fuck since when could you attach songs????? IM ABOUT TO GO BACK AND ADD SOME ON THE PREVIOUS CHAPTERS BECAUSE WHATTT MIND BLOWN

without further ado......

You trailed behind McGonagall and Snape, keeping your eyes glued to the floor in front of you as your body was still on fire from your encounter with Severus.

"How on Earth did Black manage to slip into the castle?" Snape hissed, briefly looking at McGonagall who was striding beside him, her brows laced together with worry. A shiver slid down your spine as Snape's stern voice bounced off of the stone corridor, creating a rather dramatic echo. Only moments ago were you about to kiss the man, totally disregarding the fact that you were seeing Ben. What a fucking mess.

Then again, you thought, how could anyone not get lost in his eyes? Gods, you were such a pathetic excuse for a woman as of right now.

Severus's eyes were distracting, almost magnetic-like, as they beckoned you to look further within them, silently persuading you to forget about anything and everything that mattered to you. You were sure he didn't intend to do such a thing, or maybe that's what you were telling yourself, but in that intimate moment with him, you couldn't help but feel inclined to kiss him. Whether it was the heat of the moment or not, you were sure he wanted to kiss you too.

"We're not sure," McGonagall replied, sighing in a distressed manner as she ripped you from your self-destructive thoughts. "Even Albus is baffled as to how he eluded our defences." You flicked your eyes up to glance at Minerva. You sort of felt like you shouldn't be here, it's not like you'd be much help if Black appeared in front of you right this second - your knowledge and skill in combat was nowhere near the level of McGonagall and Snape, you were certain that you'd probably be a burden. The thought of slipping away down a corridor poked at your brain, taunting you.

"Y/N?" Minerva's worrisome voice once again pulled you from your thoughts. You looked up, face flushing as you met Severus's curious eyes. Quickly glancing away, you focused your attention on the Gryffindor Head of House, afraid of the outcome if you stared any longer at him.

"Yes?" You cleared your throat, ignoring the way Severus was side-eyeing you from behind Minerva.

"Would you mind going to check the greenhouses?" She asked. Severus snapped his head at Minerva, clearly in disagreement with her proposal. You frowned slightly at his quick reaction, a tad offended.

"Minerva, I don't think that's a wise idea." Severus said rather sternly, glancing at you for a brief moment. Your face felt hot again.

"Y/N is more than capable of handling herself, Severus." Minerva replied, matching his stern tone. Severus's jaw ticked as he huffed quietly, looking away from the the older witch, silently feuding with her decision. She turned to you and offered a reassuring smile. You appreciated the faith that she had in you, but you weren't sure it was... correctly placed, to put it lightly. You pursed your lips, slightly awkward, stuck between staring at Severus's doubtful eyes and Minerva's confident ones. As you met Snape's eyes, he looked away, his brows furrowing. Your stomach somersaulted, but you weren't sure it was in the positive way you wanted. "Severus, check the dungeons." Minerva ordered, and he obliged with a curt nod, leaving almost immediately without a blink at you.

You shut your eyes briefly, fighting the urge to scream. Fuck, did you just make it extremely awkward between you two? Or was that just him being his naturally dismissive self? Was he just saving face because the two of you were in the presence of McGonagall? Did he actually lean in to kiss you as well or... did you imagine that?

"Y/N?" Minerva called, once again pulling you from your thoughts.

"Hm?" You blinked, eyes widening quickly as you realised you had a job to do. "Sorry, I was just-"

The older witch gently touched your forearm, causing you to look up at her with twinkling eyes. "What's going on with you and Severus?" Minerva questioned you, keeping her voice low but curious. As you looked at her, hesitantly, you saw sadness in her eyes, or perhaps... pity? "I know what I saw." She added rather glumly. You were a little confused at her tone, why did she seem so... sad about this?

"I don't know what you're talking about." You choked out awkwardly. Her brows knitted together as she leant her head back slightly, almost like she was disappointed in you.

"Don't make me sound like a fool, Y/N." She said. That was the same tone she had taken with you when you were a student. You immediately tore your eyes away.

"I..." Your mouth stayed open for a moment, unsure of what to say. "It's... complicated."

"It always is with Severus." Minerva sighed through her nose, a little agitated. You looked back and tilted your head at her, confused.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Severus is a complicated man, Y/N. I'm not sure you're aware of just how far his... trauma... goes." She said quietly, her tone switching back to it's usual soft one. You broke your gaze from Minerva's and shifted it to the ground thoughtfully.

"Nothing will come of it," You shook your head as the image of Ben flooded your mind. You winced. "It was a mistake, I shouldn't have done that, it was just a spur of the... moment... sort of thing." You shrugged, trying to ignore the pain that was currently blossoming in your chest at the sound of your own words. "I'm, err, seeing someone, anyway."

"Oh?" Minerva quirked a brow at you. This must sound so disorderly to her. You're seeing someone, but she had walked in on you almost kissing Severus? She probably thinks you're some kind of harlot that can't keep her legs closed now. Jesus. Nice one.

"Um, Benjamin- Benjamin Bluewater, I'm sure you're familiar with that name..." You trailed off, shrinking as you awaited her answer. You knew he wasn't a fond topic amongst the teachers at Hogwarts back in the day, so you were always preparing yourself for a scolding or some sort of judgemental remark.

"Oh, yes, I remember Mr Bluewater." Minerva hummed thoughtfully, staring at you with her inquisitive eyes. You felt as if you had to explain yourself.

"In regards to the... thing you saw- Severus and I, it's complicated, like I said, there's this weird... tension between us-" You were rambling now, and you couldn't stop yourself. Merlin, someone stop you, please. "I can't really explain it, I mean I have feelings for him, but he didn't feel the same, then I-I met Ben, and then today happened, and... it's just a whole... mess, Minerva, I don't know what to do." You huffed, clearly distressed with the situation. You looked down at the floor, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment, too worked up to even look your colleague and former-professor in the eye. "I'm sorry, I know there's another situtation at hand and I shouldn't be bothering you with such... trivial things but..." As you looked up, a soft smile had made it's way onto her face. You were rather shocked to see that. You'd expected another disappointed frown.

"Y/N," Minerva said soothingly, placing a calming hand upon your frantic ones, "as much as I respect and admire Severus, I think you should focus on Benjamin." She sighed softly. "Save your heart. Severus will only break it." A sad smile crossed her features, almost like she knew how you felt. Your mouth was parted - mainly from shock. Perhaps you should listen to Minerva, she'd known Severus for much, much longer than you have. You didn't know what to say, so you only nodded, closing your mouth slowly. "Now, I have to find Albus. Will you make sure the greenhouses are safe?"

"Of course." You swallowed, a feeling of uncertainty settling upon you.

"Lumos." You muttered, aiming your wand in the darkened room, the reflections of your wand glittering against the mossy windows. Your eyes darted around the greenhouse, searching for any sign of Black having been inside or nearby.

Everything seemed to be as you'd left it. All of your assignments were in the correct place, no plants nor pots had been knocked over and broken... no signs of forced entry... A sigh of relief slipped out of you, your tense body relaxing. Though, before you got too comfortable, the sound of a twig snapping behind you reversed all indications of your relief.

"Jesus!" You cried out, whirling around like a bullet, your frightened eyes softening a tad as they fell upon a tall, cloaked figure - none other than Severus Snape. "Please, can you not do that?!" You sighed, a hand flying to your chest in a feeble attempt to settle your racing heart as your cheeks painted themselves pink.

An amused smirk tugged at Snape's lips as his hands were clasped behind his back, staring down at you. "And not witness the terrified look upon your face?" Severus quipped, clearly relishing in your entertaining reaction. "I must disagree."

"At least let me know you're there, I could have hurt you." You replied with a glare, looking up to see an incredulous brow cocked up on Severus's face. You rolled your eyes at him. "Okay, I wouldn't have hurt you, but still, just... tell me next time." You huffed, rather exhaustedly. "Why are you here anyway? Aren't you meant to be checking the dungeons?"

"I did." Severus nodded, allowing his eyes to study your still-petrified, yet red face. You swallowed, feeling rather vulnerable under his gaze. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, debating whether to speak again. "I just wanted to make sure you were... alright."

"Oh," You choked, feeling like someone had just winded you. Did he really just say that? "I'm okay." You said, placing your wand back inside the pocket of your forest-green robes.

"I can see that." Severus muttered, blinking slowly at you. McGonagall's words uttered in your mind as you felt yourself becoming lost in his dark, black eyes once more.

'Save your heart. Severus will only break it.'

"We should head back." You cleared your throat as your soft voice pierced the blanket of silence that had fallen upon the two of you. "The greenhouses are clear. I doubt Black would choose to hide out here, it's not exactly... erm, tidy." An embarrassed grimace twisted your features as you glanced around the room.

"I don't suppose it helps when one is bombarded with... gifts." Severus said, spitting the last word out like it was poison. You glanced up at him, frowning.

"And what's wrong with that?" You folded your arms against your chest rather defensively.

"In my humble opinion," Severus gave a curt sigh through his nostrils, evidently disapproving of Ben's tendency to send you a copius amount of flowers amongst other things. "Few small, meaningful gifts are far more superior than a prolific amount of materialistic gifts." He finished, sneering slightly at the wilting flowers that were dotted around your greenhouse, all adorned with different handwritten notes. Inside, you agreed with Snape, and you wished that that was the case with Ben, but he just seemed to think that throwing gold and flowers at you would keep you interested. Of course, you didn't mind him sending you such things, you were grateful, but it was getting a little tiresome.

"Just because you don't get any." You teased, trying to hide the cheeky smile that tugged at your lips. Severus's head snapped to yours, an icy glare piercing your soul. You shivered slightly, a little sheepish as his sharp eyes dug into yours.

"I don't need gifts to satisfy my ego." He quipped, turning his nose up at you. Clearly, he didn't appreciate your light-hearted joke.

"Right, because talking down on people does that for you." You retorted, narrowing your eyes at Severus. Your patience was thin today, obviously.

"You seem to have grown a backbone, Y/N." Severus stepped towards you.

"I need one with you." You huffed, turning away from him. Severus watched curiously as you stepped away from him, his eyes trailing down your back, silently admiring your robes. He couldn't help but notice how pretty you looked in green. He thought it suited you better than your usual yellow and black. Perhaps he was just being selfish, imagining you in his House colour.

"Are you quite done?" Severus voiced. You cast a confused glance at him.

"With?" You frowned, cocking a brow expectantly.

"Having a tantrum." He replied, infamously cocking his brow at you.

"You're joking, right?" You scoffed at him, taking the bait like a fool. You turned yourself around to face him. "I made a lighthearted joke and you took it personally." The corners of his lips tugged upwards slightly in amusement. At this point it was too easy for him to wind you up. "What are you smiling about?" You stepped towards him, challenging him. He was getting underneath your skin.

"It's a pity that big mouth of yours doesn't match up with your brain." Severus said languidly, his deep voice sending a shockwave through your body. You had to swallow to compose yourself as your stomach began to tingle. He stood motionless in front of you, his hands still clasped behind his back, though you were blind to the fact that he was currently squeezing them harder the closer you got.

"Big mouth?" A gasp fell from your lips as you stared up at Severus, your eyes narrowing into a glare. "That's rich coming from you." You retorted, feeling your cheeks grow hot as you held his gaze. His lips twisted into a smirk as he closed the space between you with another step, that familiar smell of him overwhelming you.

"Is it?" Severus challenged you, silently enjoying your vain show of determination. He set his shoulders back as he stared down at you with scrutinising eyes, studying every inch of your pinkening face. He was getting a reaction out of you, and he was loving it.

"Yes." You panted. At this point, you were so worked up and distracted by his words and luscious scent that you hadn't noticed how unravelled you'd become. Your chest was heaving, breaths quiet and deep, your cheeks flushed unashamedly. You were a breathless mess. Your body was begging for Severus at this point. You were desperate for him to touch it, to even just lay a finger on it- anything. You had to relieve this ache.

"Please, enlighten me, Y/N." Severus whispered, leaning in towards you. A growl bubbled in your throat as you glared at him, your irked eyes boring into his. You were so tense and wound up that you couldn't talk. Your words were so jumbled together that you just couldn't form a coherent sentence without embarrassing yourself. "Hmm," Severus hummed, tilting his head at you, as if he was analysing you like an equation. "Didn't think so." He added smugly, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards.

"You're such an arsehole." You exhaled, shoving him with a flat palm. He didn't budge. Instead, his hand flew to your wrist, gripping it like an iron vice. Your eyes widened as Severus's once-smirking lips fell into a serious, flat line, his eyes burning.

"Weren't you taught that you mustn't... touch... what... isn't... yours?" Severus tutted, articulating each syllable with a hint of venom. You wished that wasn't the case, but in this world, you rarely get what you want.

You clenched your jaw at Severus, tugging at your wrist in a vain attempt to free it. His grasp tightened, and you balled your fist. "Let go." You whispered as he tugged you towards him, just mere milimeters separating your bodies. Severus's eyes burned into yours, your body betraying you as it erupted into goosebumps; his face dangerously close to yours once more.

"Where are your manners?" Severus whispered back harshly, his hot breath dancing across your face once more, teasing you. You let your eyes flick between his, hesitating as they dropped down his face, eyeing his lips.

"Perhaps you need to teach me some." You taunted, breathless, your mind jaded. Not one appropriate thought was racing through your mind right now. Severus's brow quirked at your reply, quite obviously taken aback.

"An insufferable brat like you is unteachable." Severus spat back, baring his teeth. The insult didn't do it's job of hurting you, rather, it... aroused you. Your bodies were grazing against one another now, and the way his chest was scraping against yours was sending you into overdrive.

"You wanna bet?" You growled as he released your wrist after one more relentless tug from you. Severus kept his arm raised for a moment, his palm splayed as he glared down at you, your noses almost as close as they were just hours ago. Silence encased the two of you again, only your irregular, ragged breathing being the one thing that the two of you could hear. He was the first to break it.

Gods, you were so close. At this very moment, you had no care left inside of you. You were shameless for him. You couldn't hold yourself back anymore.

After several insufferable seconds, you threw your lips against his; the electric jolt that shot through you almost unbearable as a stifled moan slipped from your lips. A muffled grunt growled at the back of Severus's throat as his hands flew to your hips, kissing you back with such thirst and force you were worried he'd leave bruises around your mouth. His long, slender fingers dug into your clothed flesh like the desperation of a starved man as he pulled you taut against him, his left hand gliding down your arm to grasp messily at your hands, guiding them to sit around his neck. You allowed your fingers to comb through his thick, raven locks; nails grating at his scalp, prompting a delectable, throaty groan from him. Your legs tingled at the sultry noise. The rough, black buttons of his frock dug into your bared chest as he hauled you closer with greedy hands, the coarse texture scraping against your skin, bound to leave thin red scratches across your breast. A strangled cry fell from your lips as Severus teethed your bottom lip, playfully pulling at it. He released it and pressed another heated, sloppy kiss against your swollen mouth, your lids fluttering as you felt yourself melt into his addictive touch.

Severus pulled away from you, a begging whine falling from your lips. "So needy." He teased, breath hot and dangerous.

"Shut up." You muttered through gritted teeth, pulling him back onto you, your body igniting once more his lips met yours.

Pressing your aching body against his, Severus's cold hand slipped up to the back of your hot neck and brought your face impossibly closer to his; your spine aflame as delicious chills shot down it. With burning lungs, you parted your lips, darting your wet tongue into his mouth. Severus let out a heavenly whimper as your tongue licked against his, sending a rush of blazing heat through his shuddering body. Suddenly, he was pushing you backwards, lips still locked in a ferocious fight as the backs of your thighs hit the edge of your desk. Severus's hands swiftly slid from your waist and hooked themselves beneath your bum, inducing a breathy gasp to fall out of you as he lifted you up onto the wooden desk, the two of you disregarding everything that lay upon it. Including handwritten notes from Ben. You felt him smirk against your quivering mouth at the sensual noise that left you, clearly proud at what a panting, desperate mess he'd made you.

As he shuffled you onto the desk, your back knocked over a silver candle holder.

"Careful." You whispered against him, your eyes opening to shoot him a warning glare, though a hint of playfulness was hidden within your lustful voice.

"Shut up." Severus demanded, ultimately silencing you as he forced his mouth on yours, drowning you with his devilish tongue.

Your hands snaked down from the smooth skin of his neck, heading towards his chest, fingers clamping around the edges of his black cloak. Tugging him closer, you laid back on your desk with interlocked lips and Severus gladly obliged, leaning over you, planting a steadying hand beside your head. His other hand caressed your waist in a back-and-forth manner, feeling you, sending your body into a frenzy. Your wet, bruised lips fought against his, noses pressing into each other's cheeks. He pulled another moan from you as he gently brushed his hand against the side of your breast, teasing you.

Before Severus could trace his fingers down your middle, the crack of a branch in the distance ripped the two of you from your intense, sweaty encounter. Immediately, you and Severus pulled away from each other's faces with an audible, wet smooch, the both of you glancing to the source of the noise; breaths still heavy, hands still glued to one another's bodies intimately.

"What was that?" You whispered, fingers tightening around the silky material of his cloak. Instinctively, Severus's hand tensed around you protectively as he let his eyes search the dark; foggy mind racing.

"I don't know," He whispered back, turning back to look at you underneath him after he deemed it safe. You looked ethereal. Your hair was messily splayed-out behind your head, parts of it drooping over the opposite edge of the desk he was leant over. Your cheeks were red and flushed, lips swollen and pink, almost bruised from how harshly Severus had attacked them. After several seconds of admiring his work, he spoke. "Look at you," he hummed, a dangerous smirk painting his face, "what a beautiful mess." He let his eyes rake over your shuddering body, lingering on the red marks that scattered your bare chest. If possible, you blushed harder, your hands reluctantly flying up to fold against you, framing your breasts almost perfectly. Severus bit back a groan. "We should head back, I wouldn't want the others to think Black had had his way with you."

You rolled your eyes at him, a little irked. He'd learned perfectly well how to get under your skin. "What, you don't think I can hold my own against him?"

"Certainly not." Severus answered simply, stepping back from you and offering a hand to help you up. You wanted to protest against his answer, however, you knew he was right. There was no way you could fend off Sirius Black of all wizards. You'd just become another statistic to him. As you took Severus's hand and slipped off of the desk in one swoop, his eyes fell on the notes from Ben that you'd been laid upon. He let out a disapproving hum. You frowned and followed his eyes. Your stomach dropped and your body ran cold at the now slightly damaged notes.

"Shit." You exhaled as you stared down awkwardly at the ripped parchment.

"Shit, indeed." Severus repeated, side-eyeing you with a cocked brow. You glared at him. "Who would have thought, committing adultery with another professor at Hogwarts could be such an interesting feat?" He teased, stepping towards you, intentionally brushing his shoulder against yours.

You swallowed thickly, trying to ignore how close Severus was to you. "It's not like it was serious," You sighed curtly, running a stressed hand through your hair. "I mean, we've only been seeing each other for like, almost... four... months..." You trailed off, your shoulders feeling rather heavy as a strong wave of guilt flooded you. Were you really trying to justify your actions?

"Four months?" Severus sounded impressed.

"...Yes." You replied, avoiding his amused eyes. "You can wipe that smirk off your face right now." You scolded, casting a daring glance his way. For a moment, you admired how he looked - his hair was a little scruffy from where you'd had your hands buried in it, lips partially reddened from how you'd kissed him only moments ago. A hot blush took to your cheeks as you stared at him, your mind reeling back to how he'd grabbed you and pulled you so close against him, like he was scared you'd disappear into thin air.

"We can decide what to do later." Severus stated, slipped his wand from his sleeve and casting Lumos, illuminating the once-darkened greenhouse. "For now, let's return. I'm sure Minerva is wondering where we've disappeared to."

We? Did you hear him correctly?

Before you could question him, he already had his hand pressed against the small of your back, ushering you out of the greenhouse and back towards the castle entrance.

"I've searched the Astronomy Tower and the owlery, sir, but there's nothing there." Filch's decrepid-like voice came from in front of you as Severus escorted you into the Great Hall, his hand falling from your back as you neared Dumbledore and the other staff. You felt a little bummed at the loss of contact, but you didn't exactly want to out yourselves immediately. Speaking of that, you weren't even sure if anything was going to happen between you and Severus, maybe he'd change his mind again like he did last Christmas...

As you glanced around, you noticed every single student was asleep in the Hall, gentle snores slipping from their peaceful faces. You felt a little relieved that they were all safe and sound.

"Yes, the third floor is clear too, sir." Professor Flitwick said to Dumbledore, his beady eyes peering at the old man through his glasses. As the sound of yours and Severus's footsteps began to echo in the large hall, Flitwick turned, staring at the two of you. Clasping his hands together, he watched you and Severus stroll towards him.

"The greenhouses are empty as well, sir." You spoke, offering a polite smile to Flitwick. He happily returned it, averting his attention back to Dumbledore.

"Very good, thank you." Dumbledore acknowledged you with a small smile as you reached him. You stopped just beside Flitwick, your stomach flipping as Severus continued passed you. His addicting scent glided along with him, a pink tinge staining your cheeks as you inhaled. You turned away from Flitwick, afraid he'd notice your poorly-hidden reaction.

Severus was next to speak as he halted himself beside Dumbledore. "And I've done the dungeons, Headmaster, no sign of Black, nor anywhere else in the castle." He said, his deep baritone ruffling your feathers. You cleared your throat, quietly, glancing away from him. You could hardly control yourself right now. That moment in your greenhouse had really messed with your self-control. Severus glanced at you sideways, a tiny smirk picking at his lips. He must have noticed your crumbling composure.

Flitwick eyed the two of you, a perplexed expression crossing his features.

"I didn't really expect him to linger." Dumbledore replied, hooking Severus's attention from you. Flitwick used this moment to slip away to keep a watchful eye over the slumberous students.

"Remarkable feat, don't you think? To enter Hogwarts on one's own... completely undetected?" The Potions Master drawled as he and Dumbledore began to slowly walk forwards. You caught up to them and settled yourself beside Severus, sheepishly glancing up at him, your hands settling in front of your hips. He glimpsed at you, cocking a brow questioningly, a tingling sensation building in your stomach as you stared up at him.

"Quite remarkable, yes." The Headmaster agreed, his hands floating behind his back, subsiding as they intertwined themselves. The three of you continued walking between the rows upon rows of sleeping students, your shoulders brushing against Severus's now and again.

"Any ideas on how he might've managed it?" You asked quietly, your voice curious but concerned. Dumbledore glanced at you with his wise eyes, rather surprised at you. When the older wizard was around, you tended you keep quiet. However, with Severus beside you, a newfound confidence had arisen within you.

"Many. Each as unlikely as the next." He replied, turning back to focus on the path in front of him.

Severus spoke again, his voice rattling you. It felt as if someone had let off a grand show of fireworks in your chest. "You may recall, prior to the start of term I did express concerns about your appointment of Professor Lupin-"

Dumbledore quickly interrupted him, his voice strict and unforgiving. "Not a single professor inside this castle would help Sirius Black to enter it," he said, looking to Severus, "no, I'm quite convinced this castle is safe, and I'm more than willing to send the students back to their houses." You glanced away for a moment, zoning out as you glazed over the large stained window that had the crest of all four houses set within it. Your eyes lingered on Slytherin and Hufflepuff, flicking between them thoughtfully. Could a Slytherin and Hufflepuff truly work together?

As you'd stopped to admire the window, Dumbledore and Severus had continued on forwards. You stood still, your eyes falling onto Severus's tall, black cloaked figure, a deep sigh leaving your nostrils. Was this a good idea? Crossing the line with a colleague? Or was this a recipe for disaster? You wanted it to work out, but you had your doubts. Minerva's words were etched deep into your mind, and they slowly slithered out of the woodworks, chanting in your head tauntingly.

'I'm not sure you're aware of just how far his trauma goes.'

'Save your heart. Severus will only break it.'

'Focus on Benjamin.'

Oh, Merlin, Ben.

What were you going to do about him...? Do you tell him you kissed Severus? Do you just break it off silently? No, he deserves to know. You needed to be an adult and admit to your wrongs, whether it made you look like a sack of shit or not. You'd made your bed, and now you had to lie in it.

Just as you were going to return to Severus's side, a familiar voice called your name.

"Y/N!"

You turned around, your head snapping towards the voice like a bolt of lightning. All colour had drained from your face as your widened eyes became glued onto the one person you did not want to see right now.

Ben jogged towards you, a worried expression twisting his features.

No, please, no, not right now. This could not be happening right now...

talk about perfect timing, hey?

sorry this was such a short chapter!! i wanted to make it longer, but what better than to keep you in suspense? i hope you have partly forgiven me for this chapter... </3

let me know what you thought!! your replies on the previous chapter had me rolling omfg.

daily reminder that i love you all and to make sure you are taking care of yourselves!! thank you all so much for your continued support, it really means a lot to me, and i hope i am doing this story justice, i have- well, had a plan, but it's sort of gone a different way... however, i’m liking it. :) i hope you are too!

Part 11!

taglist:

@a-laufeyson

@emilynissangtr

@livillain00

@meowskii

@nooneeveryonenoone

@vesperbatty

@biggest-simp-eversposts

@881127fara

@freshmoneyalmondathlete

@sonoluvr22

@v3lv3tvampir3

@lashipperrubia

@camilla-black

@acakius

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@tellatubbies

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@sunshinemink

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@novas-dreamworld

@ms-snape

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@once-upon-an-imagine

@setsuna-meiou31

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wordstome · 1 year

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Last night I did what I always do when I can’t fall asleep: think about fictional men. Here’s a list of wonderful stories written by incredibly talented people who have helped me think about fictional men by providing the most delicious playgrounds.

In the interest of keeping my recommendations brief, I'm going to talk about what I liked about the fic instead of summarizing what it's about. To know what it's actually about you're just gonna have to click through and read the fic <3

(and just in case anybody's gotten lost, this is all COD, mostly modern MW)

✦ complete ║ ➠ ongoing

König

✦Just Friends by @kneelingshadowsalome Salome is so good at capturing a very unique interplay between König’s social awkwardness and his deep, dark, nasty inclinations. He’s so feral and enjoyable to read, and the sheer force of his desire for Engel is downright intoxicating. I find it difficult to describe how much of an impact Just Friends has had on me and my portrayal of König, to be honest. There's a reason why three of Salome's fics are on this rec list.

✦Fatum Nos Iungebit by kneelingshadowsalome Five words. König with his cock out. That's it. Okay, but in all seriousness, I love his character applied to this setting. All the raw visceral violence a König could ever want, a pretty little lady in his bed—he's so boyish and happy in this au it brings me such joy. The way their relationship between him and Fee develops is so natural and so sweet. Please for the love of God read this.

➠Cat/Mouse/Den by @papaver-decervicatus The chase. The pursuit. The adrenaline when Mouse dances out of König's reach once more. I'm a little biased because I adore Julius and Jenny (I could call her Lucretia but the double J names make me giggle) as ocs already, but CMD is so, so well written. The tension, the flirting, the scene where he catches her falling out of the tree?! As I said in a reblog, I shrieked. You know when you're reading something that's so good you want to bite down on it and shake like a dog with a toy? (No? Just me?) That's how I feel about CMD.

➠Anything by @darklordofthesimp Anything, in only 7 chapters (they are hefty, don’t get me wrong), has turned König and Birdy’s dynamic from “THIS MOTHERFUCKER HAS IRREVERSIBLY SCARRED MY BODY AND MY BRAIN, AND I CANNOT TRUST HIM” to “these two are going to get married someday”. (author if you’re reading this, I say that not as an expectation or prediction, but as a vibe reading.) This one is for the hurt/comfort girlies. Also, shoutout to all the other stories set in the Anything-verse. Sunshine and Ghost are just soooo *grips my hand in a fist so hard it shakes*

➠If you need to be mean by @gremlingottoosilly This mostly serves as a blanket recommendation for all of Gremlin’s fics. I found If you need to be mean, and then visiting Gremlin’s author page was like opening a treasure chest. Want to be König’s pampered, (unwilling) little housewife? That’s If you need to be mean. Want a harem fic with almost all of the COD MW men? Gremlin has two, both with their own little spin to keep it fun. Do you want König to keep you in his basement or hunt you down as a serial killer? Gremlin's got it. Monsterfucker? Gremlin has that too. Special shoutout goes to 1295 kilometers. I think about fucking König on a train a lot now.

➠Break my mind by @kaiasdevotion (kaiasown on ao3) There’s no way around this. This fic has the most unhinged, kinky, downright dangerous smut I’ve read in the cod fandom so far (positive). Just Friends König is the metric by which I judge all other Königs’ nastiness, and Break my mind König is tipping so hard on the “unhinged horny violent freak (affectionate)” end of the scale he’s about to fall off. I don't know if you guys have noticed, but I've developed a taste for writing/reading from König's perspective, and he's so chillingly deranged in the most controlled way possible during the chapters from his pov. Incredible writing. Chefs kiss.

✦Experimental by @uhohdad (surgeoninspace on ao3) Alright, enough of just König being nasty. He is still nasty in this one, but he’s not the only one who gets to have a little fun and be a total creep. Our little scientist here is a grade A pervert, and I was delighted the whole way through. The most important thing I need in a fic is suspension of disbelief, and Experimental takes an unrealistic, maybe a little bit silly situation and makes it so believable. Everybody reacts the way you would expect them to, even if the scenario they're in is A Lot.

➠Little Mouse and Rotes Madchen by @sprout-fics I'm combining the recommendation for these two because while they are both very much distinct, unique fics, I love them the same way. Sprout is such an engaging writer, and the internal dialogue of her characters is so well done. It reveals their personality, motivations, and internal conflicts without being overly expository. Do you guys remember that post I put on the König bible about instant obsession? It's this inexorable attraction borne from obsession that sticks me to Little Mouse like a glue trap. (Is that too morbid?)

✦Hot in Sarajevo by @50cal-fullauto Rags' König characterization post is on my Königcore bible, for very good reason. They get it. König is a feral dog forced to live as a man and loves like a total maniac, emotionally and sexually. I marked Hot in Sarajevo as complete but I don't know how many parts there are going to be, and frankly, I do want more. However, if you're going to only read one part (which. why would you do that??? read both.) I recommend the second part. I want to write love like that. Goddamn.

Ghost

Yeah, this list is a little bare bones right now. I'm gonna get back to it, I promise.

✦Anhedonia by kneelingshadowsalome The way. Salome takes the "I would take a bullet for him but he's so cold to me" premise and then flips it entirely on its head for the second part is so important to me. The way Simon craves the reader is like human catnip. I reread this fic all the time.

Keegan

✦For the Weak and Weary by @halcyone-of-the-sea Read this if you want to believe in true love. That's all. Go on now.

Multiple

✦Easy by @danibee33 When people say "I wish this were a book!" about fanfiction, they usually mean it in a "this is good enough to be published by the traditional publishing industry" way. When I say I want Easy (and Diablesa) to be a book, I mean it in a "I want to get this story bound in a beautiful ass cover and keep it on a shelf so I can take it down and reread it whenever I want" way. I don't want the traditional publishing industry to get their claws in this, because it's perfect as it is. This fic is so wild and fun, and the character moments are so special and well done. Do yourself a favor and savor this one.

➠@ghouljams's entire blog [masterlist] "What do you mean someone's entire blog" YOU HEARD ME. Those aus are some good shit. Good characterization, delicious premises, love the group effort of it all. To absolutely nobody's surprise, my favorite couple is König and Bee from the cowboy au (ditzy but well-meaning and competent in her own way woman x big strong man who is obsessed with her and maybe also creeping on her, my beloved), but I also have a fondness for Ghost and Die from demon darlings au. Trust me on this one. Dig into those masterlists babey.

#ficrec #cod #mw2 #cod mw2 #cod ghosts #König #König cod #konig cod #König x reader #konig x reader #simon ghost riley #keegan p russ #keegan russ #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #keegan x reader #keegan russ x reader #navigation: fic recs

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sweetdreamlandstuff · 2 years

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Catching them masturbating JJK - Part 2

NSFW / Minors don’t interact / 18+

Characters: Toji Fushiguro / Suguru Geto / Hiromi Higuruma / Utahime Iori x female reader

Sequel to this part :)

Warnings: Reader lowkey cheating in Toji’s part, masturbation (obviously), fantasies about sex, fingering, slight overstimulation, blowjob, cumming on face, slight exhibitionism, choking/spanking/clit slap (only in Geto’s part), teasing, penetrative sex

Notes: Finally wrote this it’s been a hot minute anywayyy hope you enjoy!!! Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated <3

Toji Fushiguro

It rings again and just about when the mailbox usually starts he hears your voice.

“Hello?”

Fuck. Toji didn’t prepare for this, for hearing you. You and your sweet, soft voice. He longed for it, of course he did, but he didn’t think that you’d actually pick up.

Your name drops from his lips, a little bit surprised. A little bit breathless.

“What do you want?”

“You. I want you,” he mutters, watching his hand dragging slowly along his weeping length.

You’re silent for what feels like hours, so he just listens to your breathing while observing the movement of his hand.

“I’m hanging up,” you hiss.

The coldness in your voice makes Toji’s heart ache.

“Don’t,” he mumbles hurriedly, halting his movement.

“I’m in a cafe right now,” you explain annoyedly.

“With him?” He croaks.

He hears your long sigh. “Yes.”

He knew it. Of course. With your new boyfriend.

“Go to the bathroom,” he demands, his voice stern.

“I’m hanging up,” you decide again. But Toji knows you, he knows you so well. You and your voice and the tiny inclination of uncertainty in your tone. He knows you won’t.

It’s silent for a minute and a part of him is doubtful if you’re still the same, if you’re still so obedient. But then he hears your voice again.

“Toji,” you start, “now, what is it?”

A sly smile creeps across his face. He loves when you say his name.

“Just wanted to hear your beautiful voice, I miss you,” he murmurs in satisfaction. The knowledge that he still has command over you makes his chest swell with affection.

“You have to stop with these calls,” you mumble.

“I can’t,” he drawls truthfully.

“Toji,” this time your voice is softer and it makes his cock twitch in his hand.

“Come over, I need you, need you so bad,” he mutters.

“I can’t. You know I can’t.”

“Wanna fuck you so bad - ’s all I ever think about,” he groans, watching a bead of pre-cum dripping down his shaft.

“Toji,” you almost whimper his name.

“You miss me too? Come on tell me.” He can hear it in your voice. But he wants you to say it, needs you to.

He hears your slight, breathless chuckle. “No.”

“I know that’s not true. Come on tell me that you miss me, how I made you feel,” he whispers, slowly dragging his hand along his dick.

His breathing is ragged, not in the slightest concealing what he’s doing.

“You’re clenching your thighs right now, huh? Be honest.”

He can picture you; your cheeks hot, lips slightly parted, your heart beating fast against your ribcage. You’re nervous. And appalled by your own overwhelming desire.

His name again, drawn out in a breathless whimper.

“I know this turns you on, be a good girl and send me a pic of your wet panties,” he orders, a smug grin playing around his lips.

“I- I can’t,” you mumble, your voice breathless and weak.

“Always were such a good girl for me, always got so wet for me, isn’t that right?”

“Toji, please,” you whimper. Your voice, laced with desperation, makes his cock throb.

“Fuck, I bet you’re dripping,” he grunts, increasing the pace of his hand.

You moan. It’s as sweet as in his memories. And then he sees your message, one image attached. He almost cums at the sight of it; your panties drenched, clinging onto your pretty pussy lips.

“Fuck, look at you,” he breathes, his eyes greedily staring at his screen, at your apparent arousal for him. “Is this all for me, huh?”

“Yes, yes.” Your answers come faster now, more deliberately.

“You're touching yourself, baby?”

“Yeah,” you whine. He can hear your torment, the lust for him overpowering your faithfulness.

“You miss this dick, come on tell me.” His voice is low and taunting, his pants heavy as he pumps into his swollen tip.

Your voice breaks. “I miss your dick,” you whimper.

“I know you do, I know,” he mutters, watching as another bead of pre-cum slides down his cock, easing his movement. He can clearly hear your pants, your quiet moans.

And he can clearly picture you; the way your parted lips release those sweet sounds he usually elicited you, your delicate, slippery fingers rubbing over your puffy clit, your fingers curling inside of your pussy, never quite reaching that sweet spot he could.

“You wanna cum for me? Come on let me hear you,” he groans, feeling his orgasm nearing.

You moan his name, and it sounds so sweet, so right. It makes him fall right over.

Toji cums, just as you do. Your breathy moans and whimpers fall right on his awaiting ears, as his orgasm washes over him. His hips jerk up helplessly into his hand, his thighs tensing as his cum shoots out of him, staining his hand, his thighs, and abs.

He shallowly thrusts into his fist to ride out his high before he lets his cock fall heavy against his thigh.

“Don’t tell me you feel bad when this feels so right,” he murmurs just before you hurriedly hang up.

Suguru Geto

“SUGURU!?”

Geto perks up. His eyes nearly fall out of his head when he finds you standing at the door.

Well, he really should’ve waited to touch himself until he was at home.

But how could he restrain himself? It somehow became a routine, training with you, thinking about you lying underneath him, how you touched him. Until he had to touch himself. It was stupid of him to think he could quickly take care of his urges in this empty classroom.

Geto quickly pulls up his pants, standing up straight in front of the desk he just leaned against. He feels his dick throbbing in his boxers. The sight of you makes his heart flutter nervously in his chest.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The disbelief is painted all over your face; mouth agape, eyebrows pulled up, tone wavering in surprise.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Your eyes scan the room, partly expecting another person to appear. But it’s only you and him. Solely, 10 minutes ago you two were training together and then you find him like this. Hair is falling out of his bun, hanging into his eyes. He looks wild. You’ve never seen him like this.

You carefully close the door behind you.

Geto has the feeling that you like to see him embarrassed, an exceptional instance where you have the upper hand over him. He watches a smirk tug at the corner of your lips. Well, seems like you quickly overcame your earlier surprise and the shock of seeing his dick.

“I guess you’re aware that you shouldn’t do this stuff here. I didn’t know that you were into that, Suguru.”

You’re mocking him now.

He doesn’t want to give you this satisfaction. He doesn’t want to be embarrassed.

Geto takes long strides over to you, quickly closing the distance between you two. He looms over you, having you take a step back, your back flush against the door now.

Your eyes trail along his features, noticing from up close how his face is flushed, the pupils of his eyes blown out, and the slight frown on his face.

He has stood in front of you countless of times, you’ve fought with him, you know that he’s taller than you. But it hits you deep now, how broad he really is, how strong, the way he towers over you. You gulp.

Geto relishes the way you have to look up at him, the way your eyes slightly widen out of surprise, again.

“What am I going to do with you, hm?”

You frown, “What do you mean?”

Now he smirks down at you. “I mean, I can’t just let you get away with seeing me like this. What if you tell someone?”

He places a hand right above you, leaning even closer to you.

You grin up at him. “Well, that would be fucking embarrassing, you pervert.”

Geto has always been faster than you. His hand wraps around your throat, you didn’t even see it coming. You gasp. His hand doesn’t press down, still letting you breathe freely. Yet your heartbeat accelerates at the dominance he displays. It has you unconsciously clenching your thighs together.

“What did you say?”

“I said, you’re a fucking pervert,” you hiss. But the earlier bite of your words is vanished now.

He chuckles, his dark eyes trailing over your features. “Who’s the pervert now?” His hand sneaks under your skirt, cupping your pussy through your panties.

Your cheeks burn.

His head dips down, his lips trailing along your skin before his hot breath hits your ear shell. “You like that, huh?”

His deep voice sends shivers down your spine. You slightly turn your head away from him, but he doesn’t let you, the soft pressure on your throat halting your movement.

“I know something else that you would like,” he drawls, his fingers sliding along your clothed pussy, feeling the patch of dampness that has already gathered.

His hand that’s been gripping your throat moves, slowly tilting up your chin. You can’t help but lock eyes with him.

His grin is voracious. “You want me to show you?”

Your curiosity has always gotten the better of you. You swallow, hard. “Yes.”

His grin turns even wider.

He takes ahold of you, quickly picking you up. Instinctively, your legs wrap around his waist. He stops in front of the desk, placing you on its edge.

His lips are on yours in an instant. Greedily, his tongue drags along your lips, demanding entry. You grant him entrance, letting his tongue explore your mouth. The kiss is good. Better than expected. You would have to lie if you said that you haven’t been thinking about this, about him, wondering what he tastes like, wondering how his hands glide along your body. You don’t have to wonder about this anymore.

His kiss was hungry, rapacious, his tongue moving against your own like he has been waiting to do this. Your heart races in your chest at the realization. He has been waiting to do this.

You pull away, panting. You watch him as he slowly peels his eyes open, irises swallowed by the pupil. His tongue drags along his wet bottom lip, his eyes taking in your expression.

“Let me make you feel good.” His voice is husky, the very sound of it travels straight to your core.

He pulls your panties to the side before letting his fingers wander along your pussy, slowly almost teasingly. You’re embarrassed at your wetness, how you’re already so ready without him touching you properly. He must think the same, his lips stretching into a satisfied grin.

You don’t know how you got here. He should be the embarrassed one, being caught masturbating. Yet here you are, his slippery fingers buried in your cunt and your cheeks burning.

He makes a mess of the slick that has already gathered. His large finger prods into you, knuckle for knuckle, eliciting you a small gasp. He slathers your wetness over your clit, drawing large circles that have your head spinning. You hold onto the edge of the table, trying hard not to show him just how good he makes you feel. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

He works like that, sinking his large fingers into you, and curling them deliciously before he stimulates your clit. You’re panting, holding back your moans, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to your impending orgasm. You can’t hold back your moans anymore. Hesitantly, they drop from your parted lips.

Geto peers down at you, stopping his movement. “Not so fast.”

Before you can reply he has already flipped you over, bending you over the desk. You gasp in surprise. “What are-“

His hand comes down on your ass, hard.

You yelp his name in surprise.

“Shhh,” he scolds. “You’ll get us caught.”

You swallow hard, breathing out a shaky moan as you brace yourself for the next spank.

His hand comes down hard again, the sensation causing you to jolt forward. His hand rubs over your ass cheek, the softness of his touch building a stark contrast to his hard hand a few seconds ago.

“Suguru,” you drawl, wanting him to touch you where you need it the most. You look back at him. The sight has you clenching around nothing. His eyes are wild, fixed on your wet pussy like hypnotized, his jaw slightly clenched.

He hesitantly averts his gaze, his dark eyes fixing on yours.

“Can I hear you say please?”

“Please,” you pant, voice barely above a whisper.

He spanks you again, eliciting a choked moan.

“I can’t hear you.” His voice is hard.

“Please,” you try again.

Tears of relief nearly prickle in your eyes once his fingers finally ghost along your soaking folds.

“That’s what you want?”

“Yes,” you admit, the word bleeding in a breathless moan once his slippery fingers draw tight circles on your clit.

“Beg for it.”

“Please,” you beg. You would do anything right now, say anything if he would just let you cum, if he would just stop his cruel teasing.

He thrust his fingers into you, his pace faster than before, while still stimulating your clit. You let your forehead sink against the cold wood, building a stark contrast to the heat traveling through your body.

Geto watches you, watches the way his fingers disappear in your tight pussy, the way you gush all over his fingers, the way your legs start to tremble.

“Filthy,” Geto chuckles darkly.

You whine, cheeks burning as the lewd sounds of your sloppy pussy fill up the vacant classroom. Your orgasm washes over you without warning. You gasp, his name involuntarily falling from your lips as your pussy clenches around his fingers.

Your vision is blurry, and your moans are shaky as the waves crash over you. You can feel yourself dripping down his fingers, can hear his dark, satisfied chuckle, as he guides you through it.

Your vision gets clearer again. Your heart rate goes back to normal. But his fingers still rub over your puffy clit. You whine, squirming under his touch. The stimulation is nearly too much.

“You’re gonna let me fuck you right here?” His voice is gravelly, as dark as his eyes.

His hand comes down hard on your ass. You gasp in surprise.

And then he lightly slaps your clit. You nearly scream out. Pain mixing in with pleasure.

“‘s too much,” you plead weakly. But you should know better now than to expect his sympathy.

“I asked if you’ll let me fuck you right here.”

You look back at him. His gaze turns softer when you don’t answer immediately.

He lets go of you then, flipping you around. You're lying on your back on the desk now.

His face hovers above yours, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist again.

His lips press soft, feathery kisses onto your puffy, hot face. “You’ve been so good, you know that? Been such a good girl for me.”

His lips find yours, sharing a messy kiss before he retreats, a string of spit breaking between you.

“You’re gonna be quick?” You clarify, remembering where you two are, and what could happen if anyone would find you two like this.

“Of course.”

Geto quickly tugs down his pants, freeing his cock. He drags the swollen head of his cock through your soaking folds. Every graze against your clit has you slightly squirming, sighing breathily in anticipation.

And when you’re just about to say something, voicing how you can’t possibly wait any longer he sinks into you.

A choked moan drops past your lips as he stretches you open, slowly and deliberately. Once he’s bottomed out he shortly stays there, basking in the feeling of having you wrapped around him so tightly.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he drawls, lowering his head to watch with a bleary gaze as he lets his cock drag out of you again. His dick drips with your slick, some of his pre-cum from when he touched himself already building a ring around the base of his cock.

He knows then that he can’t go slow. Not after he has been waiting to do this - to sink his dick so deep into you that your eyes roll into the back of your head, to have you moaning and begging for him.

Geto takes ahold of your legs, resting them onto his shoulders. The change of position has you gasping, pleasure jolting through you with each thrust.

He thrusts into you again, deeper now, feeling your pussy flutter around him. He groans, a string of curses dropping from his lips.

And if Geto thought the sight of you earlier - pleading, moaning, dripping all over his fingers - was heavenly, seeing you now nearly makes him come undone.

He loves watching you fall apart, loves observing how your eyes cross on particular deep thrusts, loves the sight of your pussy fluttering all messy around his dick.

His thrusts are desperate now, his hips pressing primitively against you. It’s loud; the way your skins meet, the lewd squelch of your pussy, the panting and moaning you two desperately try to hold back.

Geto’s orgasm washes over him without any warning. His hips stutter into you, a choked groan escaping his mouth as pleasure floods through him.

He’s just as surprised as you. He slips out of you, his hand stroking his cock, watching deliriously how his ropes of cum paint your messy folds white. You wince when his hot cum hits your aching clit.

His half-lidded eyes commit the image to his memory before he helps you up. You both look at each other, the same smirk, the same lust-drunk look in your eyes.

“You really are a pervert,” you tease him, your voice still a little breathless.

He only presses a chaste kiss onto your lips. He’ll let that slide - this time at least.

Hiromi Higuruma

Higuruma feels like he has overstepped a boundary. One that he shouldn’t have crossed. It was a big fallacy. How could he think that touching himself to the thought of you, just once, would banish you from his mind, stopping this annoying attraction?

He couldn’t have been more wrong. Because now, he can’t seem to get you out of his head. Working with you, in such close proximity, cramped into his tiny office becomes unbearable.

He finds himself working another late night with you by his side. Rustling paper, the slow ticking of the clock, your quiet breathing. The words blur in his vision, it’s so late and he can only concentrate on you; your scent, your warmth radiating through the tiny room.

He takes you in; his gaze trailing across your features. His heart slowly drops as he notices your half-lidded eyelids and your disheveled hair. You’re tired. His gaze dips lower, gliding along your waist before resting on your exposed thighs. He swears he can see the start of your black stockings. Quickly, his eyes move back to your face.

“You can go,” he murmurs.

You perk up. A sweet, tired smile creeps across your face. “Are you sure?”

No, he isn’t. He would rather have you here, satisfying his curiosity, pulling up the hem of your skirt to reveal if he’s right. He’s not sure; letting his large palms smooth along your legs, and cupping your clothed pussy sounds much better. But he knows he can’t.

“Yes, I’ll finish up,” he mumbles, hoping that you can’t hear the breathlessness in his voice.

But you do. You vaguely hear his reluctance, his desire. Yet his face is completely neutral as you turn around one last time before stepping out the door. Maybe it’s just your tiredness that weighs you down, which made you imagine things.

Halfway down the corridor, you notice you forgot your phone. You gulp. It’s probably laying on the desk, where you put it earlier. You turn back around, hurrying down the corridor the clinking of your shoes resounding through the empty hallway.

Usually, Higuruma is more cautious. Normally, he waits five long, hard, straining minutes with his dick painfully throbbing in his pants, his mind unable to concentrate on anything before he gives into his urges.

He wasn’t this time. You’re urging him to uncharacteristically careless behavior. He was so pent up, he couldn’t help himself, couldn’t get ahold of himself.

You closed the door and he instantly opened his pants, freeing his cock from the confinement of his taut boxers. His hand wrapped around his dick without a second thought, without any hesitation.

That’s how you find him; his head thrown back, his eyes closed softly, his lips parted. You stand at the door, just looking at him, trying to process the scene unfolding right in front of your eyes.

And then you hear your name. You’ve heard him say your name countless of times. It has never sounded remotely like this.

Higuruma nearly groans your name, with such a naturalness that it makes you forget to breathe for a second.

He hasn’t noticed you yet and you could’ve just slipped out of the office, never saying a word to him, acting like this never happened. You could do that. But you don’t.

“Higuruma.”

He jerks up, his dark eyes fixing on yours. His mouth falls open. In any other situation, his stunned expression would’ve probably made you laugh. You don’t think you’ve ever seen this much emotion in his eyes.

You two just look at each other. He doesn’t even try to cover up, he just sits there frozen, accepting his fate.

You don’t know what to say. You’re not even sure if there is anything to say.

Your shoes clink as you make your way behind his desk. With every step you take more of him in, seeing his disheveled black hair, and the wild, surprised look in his eyes. Your heart nearly springs out of your chest. You want to see more of him.

You kneel down in front of him, letting your hands smooth along his thighs. His hand is still wrapped tightly around his dick. Your eyes travel up to his.

“Can I call you Hiromi now?”

Through your batted lashes you peer up at him, watching him swallow hard, watching the way his dark eyes greedily glide over your face.

“I’m still your superior. But I’ll let it slide for tonight.” His voice is a little breathless and strained, and it sounds way too attractive. The corner of his lips slightly curl up and you fall right over.

You beam up at him.

He slightly lifts up his hips, so you can help him push down his slacks. His cock sprung, just inches away from you, leaking and twitching for you to finally touch him.

Higuruma hisses as you wrap your hand around him. Slowly, you drag your hand along his throbbing length, pumping teasingly into his swollen head. You watch greedily as a bead of pre-cum slides along his cock, relishing in the feel of having his cock between your fingers.

But you want more. No - you need more.

You inch forward, your one hand bracing yourself against his thigh, as you let your tongue glide along the underside of his cock.

You hold your eyes to his. Higuruma’s head is resting against the back of his chair, his chin is tilted down as he observes you through his hooded eyes.

Your lips seal around the tip of his dick, sucking softly, tauntingly.

“Are you teasing me?”

His voice is colder than before, making a shiver run down your spine.

“Of course not, Hiromi.”

You take more of him into your mouth, your hand stroking the rest of what you can’t fit. You fall into a slow rhythm, bobbing your head, tasting him on your tongue.

“Fuck,” he curses, stupefied.

You moan around him, the vibration of it causing him to gasp lowly. You start to bob your head at a faster pace, your eyes darting up to him for a moment.

You watch him fall apart above you, his half-lidded gaze trailing along your features, fixing on your swollen lips that are wrapped so tightly around him. He lets himself succumb to your touch and you savor it, to finally have him at your mercy.

You work diligently, letting your tongue glide along his cock, swirling around the head of his cock.

Higuruma’s jaw is slacked, his pupils almost rolling into the back of his skull. Seeing him like this, the knowledge that you make him look like this makes your blood run hot. But you’re still not satisfied.

Slowly you ease all of him inside your mouth, the tip of his cock sitting at the back of your throat. You hold your eyes to him, you want him to see you do this.

His half-lidded eyes soak in the filthy image of you kneeling in front of him, almost gagging on his cock.

His large hand cradles your cheek, his thumb swiping along your hollowed cheek.

“You’re so beautiful like that,” he breathes.

You only peer up at him, his blissful face blurring in front of your watering eyes.

His hips rut forward into the wet, warm heat of your mouth, his hand holding your face there. The tip of his cock hits the resistance at the back of your throat repeatedly.

Your vision becomes blurred, tears prickling in your eyes as he fucks your mouth. The tiny office is filled up with the sinful sound of your wet mouth meeting his throbbing cock.

You let out a strangled, chocked sound when it becomes too much. He lets go of you then, his hand moving to his sloppy cock, strings of glossy spit breaking between his cock and your mouth.

“Be a good girl and open your mouth for me,” he murmurs.

You do, parting your lips and lolling out your tongue, your glazed eyes fixing on his.

His hand strokes into the swollen head of his cock, his eyes laying on your mouth like mesmerized.

A strangled gasp leaves his lips as he tips over the edge. The first spur falls on your awaiting tongue, a surprised moan dropping from your lips at the sensation.

A string of curses leaves his lips as he jerks through it, letting his cum paint your face white.

His chest heaving in pants once he’s come done from his high. You swallow, the bitter taste of him spreading on your tongue.

“You look so pretty like this,” he mumbles, his thumb running along your chin to catch some of his own mess before he presses his finger into your mouth. Your tongue dances across his finger, cleaning it off obediently.

You swallow his spent, hoping that this won’t be the last time you get to see him like this.

Utahime Iori

Utahime watches you, the moonlight painting a stripe of light onto your body. The blanket is carelessly wrapped around your body, exposing some of her favorite parts of you.

Although she has been tired, after the fun night you two had, all her tiredness subsided once your body pressed onto the mattress right next to her.

Involuntarily she has to think about what she has done in this bed. How she touched herself to the thought of you, how she dreamed about you, laying there just like this now.

Involuntarily, her brain is flooded with her fantasies about you; about cupping your tits, about letting her hands smooth all over that perfect body of yours, about slowly easing her fingers into your slick cunt.

Utahime sighs, turning around, desperately trying to ignore the way she can feel her underwear dampening, the lust cursing through her veins.

But she can’t.

Slowly, her hand sneaks past the band of her underwear, feeling her wetness transpire onto her fingertips. She slathers her wetness onto her yearning clit, drawing tight, soft circles.

She knows it’s wrong. She knows. The guilt of her doing overwhelms her, making it hard for her to breathe. She lets go of herself unsatisfied and ashamed.

She sighs, “Fuck,” she curses aloud, her clenched fist hitting the mattress.

“What’s up?” Your voice is drowsy, a little bit raspy, just like when you wake up in the morning.

Utahime gulps, eyes wide, quickly turning around to face you. “You’re awake?”

Your eyes are half-lidded, nearly falling back close as you peer at her. “Barely.”

A small chuckle leaves her lips, the way the tiredness crawls over your face makes her chest all warm.

You turn to your side, facing her directly now. The blanket draped over your body falls just a little bit, exposing some more of your cleavage. Utahime's eyes greedily trail along your features.

“I can’t fall asleep,” she admits sheepishly.

“Why? You wanna cuddle?” You propose, moving a little bit closer to her.

“I don’t think that’s going to help,” she hesitates.

A soft frown appears on your forehead, the tip of your tongue sticking out of your mouth. It’s the same expression you wear when you do those crossword puzzles you never seem to get finished.

“You could try some lavender oil…” You smirk at her jokingly, eyes glinting with mischief, “sometimes I touch myself if I really can’t fall asleep.”

Utahime nearly chokes on her spit. She half-heartedly joins in your laughter, her heart nervously tugging in her chest. If you only knew…

“I can also leave the bed until you’re done,” you propose in between light chuckles.

Your smile weakens when you see that the smile froze on her face. “Utahime, what is it?”

She always forgets how you can read her face.

The few seconds of silence almost become unbearable, almost making her crack, spilling her feelings.

“Sorry, was that too much? I thought we could talk about this.” The unsureness on your face, about the state of your friendship, and your confidence in her makes her heart drop.

“It’s not that…”

That frown again. You move even closer to her. You smell good, even after a night out. It’s the faint scent of your perfume, but even better, your own, signature scent…

“What is it? You can tell me anything, you know that.”

She knows but she’s not sure if she can. Her gaze flickers away from yours, desperately finding anything other than those compassionate eyes of yours to look into.

Letting this drop from her lips in the dark somehow feels more bearable. “I sometimes think about you…”

You don’t get it at first.

She watches your face change when you do; your frown deepens, and your eyes grow wide, looking at her flabbergasted. “Okay.”

The next minute stretches what feels like an hour, the silence weighing as heavy as the night. The nervousness eats away at Utahime. Maybe she should’ve just kept her mouth shut.

“What does this mean?”

Well, if she already said this, might as well lay herself bare. “I like you.”

This is exactly what she tried to convince herself isn’t true, again and again. But it’s true. And as the words drop from her lips, she speaks the truth.

“Me? You’re not serious?” You don’t sound angry. You sound… so surprised. So insecure. As if the implication of her liking you is somehow not comprehensible.

“I do. You’re amazing and sexy.” She says this like saying water is wet.

Utahime studies your face and watches you bury your face in the pillow, hearing a muffled stop.

A small smile dares to tug at the corner of her lips, a small spark of hope fluttering through her chest.

“You’re so beautiful,” she tries again once you look at her again. Your eyes are wide, hanging onto her lips, like hypnotized.

You open your mouth just to close it again.

Carefully, she stretches out her hand. Her fingers glide along your bottom lip, watching your eyes soften.

“Your lips are beautiful,” her fingers glide further down, along your neck “your neck” slowly she lets the straps of your top fall down your shoulders, exposing your cleavage to her.

Her hand cups your tit, her thumb softly rubbing over your nipple, watching it harden under the stimulation. “I like your tits.”

She watches your face, watches the way your eyes widen with every word she says, observing how your breath turns more shallow.

Her hands cup your breasts, pinching your nipples between her thumb and fingers. She watches your chest heaving and your nipples hardening under her touch. She dips down low, her mouth latching onto your nipple. The sigh that drops from your parted lips makes her head spin. She lets go of you then.

Her hand moves lower, stripping the blanket off you. Her fingers trace along your waist, your stomach, her eyes following her movement, openly taking you in. Her hand smoothes down your side, feeling the skin of your thighs.

“You’re so soft,” her voice is barely above a whisper.

“I like this,” she states boldly, her hand grabbing your ass. You yelp in surprise, a nervous, breathy chuckle falling from your parted lips.

“What else?” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

Utahime’s hands are ceaseless now. She moves, kneeling next to you, as you lie on your back.

Her hand cups your pussy through your panties. “I think I’m gonna like your pussy a lot.”

You let out a low gasp.

“You want me to find out?” She suggests, practically feeling the heat and the wetness soaking your panties.

“Yes,” you answer breathlessly, without hesitation. Utahime becomes greedy now.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes,” after she doesn’t move, her palm still cupping your clothed pussy, you add a quiet “please.”

The pleading look in your eyes makes her gulp. She lets her finger trace along your panties, feeling the patch of dampness.

“Tell me again.”

You squirm. “Utahime,” her name resounds through the room, “please.”

She takes ahold of your panties, pulling them down your legs, tossing them away. Eagerly, you open your legs for her. The moonlight highlights your wetness, your pussy glistening deliciously. She sucks in a deep breath.

Her finger carefully traces along your slick pussy, not yet touching you where you need it the most. Her finger carefully vees around your clit. She wants to hear it, once more, just once more.

Her finger draws a circle on your clit. “You want that?”

“Yes, please,” you beg, your tone so whiny like she has never heard it before.

Slowly she starts to circle your sensitive clit, observing how your lips part, and how your hands grip the sheets next to you.

Utahime lets her fingers sink into you, watching your face scrunch up in delight, hearing a sweet moan fall from your lips.

Her other hand presses down onto your lower stomach, her other hand thrusting into your pussy while her thumb stimulates your clit. Your widened eyes flutter shut as she fucks you with her fingers.

It feels surreal. To have you exactly where she wanted to, how her dreams became reality. She watches her fingers disappear inside your pretty pussy, basking in the sound of your sweet voice.

The lewd sounds of your messy pussy fill up the room, mixing in with your moans and pants. Utahime swallows hard, feeling how her own panties stick to her lips.

She fucks you with her fingers, scissoring and curling them until you’re whimpering, your legs trembling.

She can already feel it, the way your pussy flutters around her slippery fingers, your wetness soaking the sheets, dripping down her hand.

“You wanna cum for me, baby?”

“Yes, yes,” you whimper and with one more thrust of her fingers, you cum. Your pussy spasms around her fingers, your back arching off the bed.

The sounds you make travel straight to her pussy, the breathless, sinful moan of her name rolling off your tongue.

And she watches you, observing how your chest rises and falls heavily, the way your whole body quivers because of her touch. Your eyes are fluttering deliriously against the waves of pleasures washing over you, your lips parted in ecstasy.

You look ethereal. And she has done that to you.

Utahime guides you through it, letting her fingers rub softly over your puffy clit until you whine from the overstimulation, squirming under her touch.

And she knows, she will never have another peaceful minute in her bed now that she had you here - looking like this.

©sweetdreamlandstuff

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk imagines #toji smut #toji x reader #toji x you #geto x reader #higuruma x reader #higuruma smut #hiromi x reader #geto smut #geto x you #utahime smut #utahime x reader

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drapopia · 3 months

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like a doll's eyes (papa emeritus iv x reader)

pairing: papa emeritus iv x gender neutral reader

warnings: suggestive jokes

summary: After the most exhausting week in a while, you and Copia decide to cuddle up. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, Copia is ravenous.

word count: 1.2k

authors note: first time writing for copia like this! i am a little anxious to post this, but when am i not? anywho, likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated! requests and inbox are also open, so send a message if you feel so inclined! love ya'll <3

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“Can you please pass me the cheese doodles?”

“Cheese doodles? You mean cheese puffs?”

“Do not scold me on words, cara/o.”

You scoff incredulously, smiling to yourself. “Y’know, I get mad when you call yourself old, but you’re really showing your age with the usage of cheese doodle.” You lean over, grabbing the large tub of cheese puffs you had managed to snatch earlier from the dining hall. Usually you had to bring it back to the kitchens by morning, but Copia had some privileges. Such privileges included regular use of Clergy cars, first pick of seating at Black Mass, and apparently all the cheese puffs you wanted. You used to wonder just how he managed to get all of his Juicy Juices. The answer was that nobody had the guts to stop Papa from raiding the snack cabinets.

You hold the tub to your side, popping off the lid and setting in on the coffee table. Copia was currently leaning against you, his head against your tucked in knees. His hand was around your leg, petting it absentmindedly. His hands were degloved, though you couldn’t tell much of a difference through the lounge pants you had on, as well as the throw blanket tossed over your legs. Copia’s room tended to run cold, even during the winter.

You lean over, turning over to see him lift his head up and look up at you. He had taken off his paints, the only hint of them ever being there was the small amount of black that had collected in the inner points of his eyes. His lips have a faint glossy sheen, the lip balm you had given him as a gift surely working its magic. Your hands dip into the tub and pull one brilliantly crunchy puff, retreating out of the tub and remaining pinned between your pointer finger and thumb.

Copia looks at you, his head laid against your knee. His mouth opens, his hand leaving your leg and pointing towards his mouth. “Here, please. Thank you.” He says quietly, his tone teasing.

You pull your hand back away from him slightly, cheese ball still between your fingers. “Didn’t you just brush your teeth before we started the movie?” Right now the two of you are watching Jaws, the heat of summer making you both yearn for a good summer spook. While you have been paying some attention, the both of you had been inclined to spend this time luxuriating in the quiet of Copia’s room. While it hadn’t been the most busy week, the days seemed to move slower than molasses in the blistering heat. Every minute of this week had drug on, leaving you with a deep exhaustion that only a night with your lovely Papa can cure.

“Yes, I did, but now I am wanting a cheese doodle. I can just brush them again.” He shrugged, a small grin lighting up his face. You can’t help but notice just how deep the circles are under his eyes in the glow of the tv screen.

You hum, trying to hide the smile desperately attempting to make itself known. “Is it safe to brush your teeth twice in one night? Won’t you get, like, fluoride poisoning?”

He frowns, a contemplative look passing over his eyes. “Hmm, I am not so sure. Maybe if I swallow my toothpaste?”

You purse your lips questioningly, dangling the cheese ball over him. “And do you do that?”

He scoffs, his lips turning up into a small smile, clearly satisfied with where this is going. “Nope, I have not done this. Maybe as a kid, I remember the bubblegum one was enjoyable.”

You chuckle and mercifully decide to take pity on him, and the cheese ball descends, quickly popping into Copia’s mouth with a resounding crunch. He swallows quickly, his body rising from your knee to look at you at face level. “Hm, thank you cara. I am thinking that Papa needs more, will you give me another one please?”

You giggle, meeting his gaze with an exaggerated look of surprise. “You’re going to turn into a cheese puff yourself at this rate.”

Copia chuckles, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your cheek, his lips soft and slightly sticky against your skin. While distracted by his sweet gesture, his hands come to grasp around your hips, pulling you towards him on the couch. His kisses continue, pressed slowly against your face.

“I can be a cheese puff, I do not care about this. Would you eat me?” He whispers softly, his arms finally holding you around your middle. You giggle, no longer being able to ignore the feathery kisses that are quite honestly, starting to tickle you in the most pleasant way.

“Is this some weird roleplay?” You whisper back, feeling his lips curl into a grin against the skin of your neck. You start to relax into his arms, his skin warm against where your sweatshirt has ridden up. He sighs, hot puffs of warmth into your deliciously soft skin.

“Eh, maybe. I would not want to be a cheese doodle, maybe an Oreo. The makeup, si?” He says plainly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

You can’t hold in the laugh that bubbles up in your chest, and neither can he. You relax against the shoulder of the couch, Copia falling onto your stomach with a small puff of air. You raise your hands, running them through the brown and silver that captivates you every day. It’s getting a bit long, you notice, and make a note to yourself to ask if he wants to schedule an appointment with his hairstylist. But for now you’ll enjoy the way the softness of it feels against your palms.

Copia sighs, and his shoulders relax at your kind touch. He would not give this up, not for anything. The feeling of your body against his is a balm to his heart, the thing he looks forward to curling up against at the end of the day. He doesn’t want to remember a time before he had heard your jokes, the way you giggle against his neck, the way you say his name so sweetly.

“You are so soft.” He mumbles, his cheek nestled against your stomach.

You smile, the feeling of absolute adoration you can never avoid when you’re with him making itself known. “And you’re sweet.” You whisper. You watch his eyes go from half lidded to closed, his eyelids flickering at the lights of the TV screen. Jaws has been long forgotten, Quint is hanging halfway out of the shark's jaws in a lifeless heap as it slides back into the deep.

Your hands gingerly leave his hair, where they let the tub sit on the ground, not caring about the lid. You can feel yourself slip into the sleep you’ve desperately needed, the warm weight of Copia pulling you away from reality. Your hands return, relocating to his shoulders and resting there. His breath has evened out to nasally snores, soft wheezy rasps that surprisingly have never bothered you, only endeared him further to you.

“Love you.” You whisper, your eyes slipping closed as the movie continues, Copia does not respond, but the way his arms wrap around your middle so softly and the way his cheek presses further into your tummy only makes your heart clench in a way you’ve only ever felt for him, and will remain so.

#copia #the band ghost #papa emeritus iv #the band ghost fanfic #copia x reader #my writing #papa emeritus iv x reader #papa emeritus iv fanfiction #copia fanfiction #reader insert #gender neutral reader

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ashleyfilm · 25 days

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Seeing Clearly - Chapter 6. The Nightmare

Please leave comments, I'd love to know your thoughts. And if you feel inclined to reblog, that would be so nice.

Chapter Warnings: cursing, SMUT, angst *im sorry* - Minors - DNI

Characters: Jackson!Joel Miller x F!Reader Plus Size. F!OC was recommended to me since there's a lot of description of her but I'm writing her as You (Reader) so hopefully you can still imagine yourself. Black hair, glasses, tattoos, big body, wears dark clothes, won't stop talking. Joel is tv show Jackson Joel.

Story Summary: Joel just saved your life, begrudgingly. He doesn't know exactly why but he brings you back to Jackson and you ingratiate yourself into his very small circle and his life. This takes place after season 1 of TLOU and season 2 doesn't exist in my brain because no.

Chapter Summary: The Nightmares that have plagued you come back and Joel helps you through it, but getting closer isn't easy. 1.2K

Thank you to @saradika-graphics for the book line divider. :)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6. The Nightmare

By some miracle, you haven’t had any of your nightmares since you arrived in Jackson two weeks ago. That is until early this morning when, in your sleep, you toss and turn and yell until you’re woken up by Joel’s large hands on your shoulders and his warm breath in your face. “Hey, hey, shhh, you’re okay. It was a nightmare, you’re okay. Look at me.” You realize your cheeks are wet, how long have you been crying? “Joel?” Your voice is scratchy, how long have you been yelling? “Darlin’, you didn’t wake up for me. It took almost ten minutes of me shaking you to wake you up,” Joel says, quietly as he can but you hear so much pain in his voice. “I’m sorry,” you say, “Raiders, I was caught for, for...two years, a little while before I came here. The nightmares, I haven’t had one since I got here, I thought maybe I wouldn’t. I’m so sorry.” Joel is kneeling next to your bed, hands loosening around you, and you see he’s in his pajamas and his hair is all messy from sleep. He sits back a bit, and you see he’s visibly angry, “Nothin’ to be sorry about. That’s never gonna happen to you again, I promise you that.” Still trying to catch your breath you say, “You can’t promise that, Joel.” He sits up again, closer to you. “You are here now, look at me,” and you do, its blurry without your glasses but he’s so close you can see into his eyes, “You’re here now and I’m not going to let anything hurt you like that ever again.” You try to nod but he continues, “Oh, god, you’re shaking so much. What can I do?” After a moment of silence you ask, “Will, will you hold me?” and before you can finish your question, he climbs up beside you, puts his arms around you and has your cheek resting over his heart that’s beating wildly. As his heart calms, so do you and you fall back asleep.

When you wake, you’re disoriented. You’re asleep on your side but you feel a large, warm presence behind you, and a large arm draped over you. For a moment, you freeze in terror and Joel, who was already awake feels the shift, grabbing you gentle but firm to turn you so you face him. He says your name over and over, looking into your eyes and you finally breathe. Then he can finally breathe, and he lays his forehead against yours hovering over you, his eyes closed. Before you can think, you reach up to cup his cheek and he leans into it, snuggling your palm. And you think you’ve never felt this safe in your whole life. You’re so close. It would only take a slight movement of your neck, and your lips would touch. And then they do. His lips are so soft and so warm and your lips slot so perfectly with his. He doesn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss, licking at your bottom lip with his tongue, begging to be let in. You gladly welcome him, and he licks into your mouth, exploring you, tasting you. He tastes like mint and a hint of late-night coffee. Without thought, both your bodies start to move with each other and a moan escapes your lips only to be swallowed by Joel’s ravenous mouth against yours. You feel his hardness on your thigh, rubbing up against you. You start to run your fingers through his beautiful hair. It’s so soft.

Suddenly, there’s a slam of a door, “Joel?” Tommy yells from downstairs and Joel jerks away from you. Wild-eyed, dark and full of desire, lips pink and swollen from kissing. He stands up off the bed and you’re still trying to catch your breath, laid out on the bed in front of him, looking open and wanting. You can feel the slick pooling at the entrance between your legs. “It’s Tommy, I gotta,” he starts. “I know, it’s okay.” You smile shyly at him; he doesn’t smile back. And then he’s gone. You lay your head back on the pillow and sigh. Smiling ear to ear but also nervous about what almost happened. Does he want you as much as you want him? Fuck, you hope so. After what you’ve been through, you deserve to have something you want, right? You roll over to find the pillow Joel was laying on and inhale his scent.

A bit later, and fully dressed, you make your way downstairs to see Joel standing in the living room and Ellie in a chair looking utterly pissed off and you wonder what the hell you just walked into. Ellie stands looking at you sadly, then stares at Joel and stalks off for her garage. Once she’s gone Joel starts speaking, not really looking at you, not in the eyes at least. “They’ve got a place ready for you, above the bakery. It’s ready today. S’what Tommy came to tell me.” It’s like a punch to your gut. You knew this was going to happen, but you didn’t think it’d be this fast. You almost thought that maybe it wouldn’t ever happen. It was going well here with you and Joel and Ellie. Right? God, you’re stupid, they’re each other’s family. You’re just a new person in town and they were just doing you a favor. It wasn’t your bedroom, it wasn’t your wolf mug, Ellie wasn’t your daughter, and Joel wasn’t yours. Your eyes brim with tears and you ask quietly, “What about this morning, Joel,” He cuts you off, his voice low, “Was a mistake, won’t happen again, this’ll be better for you.” You feel like he slapped you and stand to run upstairs so he doesn’t see you cry, again.

Tommy comes to help you with the two small boxes of things to take to the new place. He looks from you to Joel and neither of you will look at each other or him. Joel puts one more thing in the box Tommy is carrying as Ellie emerges to give you a hug before you start walking off the front porch. The hug starts off awkward until it turns into the most amazing hug you’ve had in decades. “You have to come visit me, I’m above the bakery, we’ll eat so much bread.” Ellie smiles, laying her head on your shoulder, Joel walks off into the house. “I’m so angry at him, he’s being a stupid asshole and a coward,” Ellie says, and Tommy looks back into the house seemingly trying to piece together what’s going on. “It’s okay, Ellie. I’ll see you, promise.”

After Tommy leaves you at your new apartment, you sit and stare at the floor, it’s a cute place, perfect for just you. A small kitchen, a breakfast nook by the front window, one bedroom and a pretty bathroom with a tub and a shower. And it smells amazing, but you can’t enjoy it. You feel cold being away from him, your lips feel lost without his. You don’t feel safe anymore. What had you done? What did you do to make him push you away so hard. He wouldn’t even look at you. And for the first time, since he saved you, you wish he hadn’t. Because this loneliness was worse than all the other times. This hurt more than you thought it could. And now you have to start over, alone, again.

Taglist: @somedayheaven @elegantduckturtle

If you'd like to be added to the taglist just let me know in a message or comment. :)

#ashleyfilm #joel miller plus size reader #joel tlou #pedro pascal fanfiction #seeing clearly #joel miller #the last of us #joel millerxf!OC plus size

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mxtxnet · 8 months

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MXTXNet Valentine's Event

Hello everyone, it’s almost Valentine's Day and since MXTX loves love, we wanted to create an event for the community. Please note, it does not have to mean romantic love!

This event is open to anyone who wants to participate and you can make whatever you want to contribute (gifs, video edits, fics etc)

The event will run for 3 days (Feb 12, 13, and 14) and you can choose from 3 prompts listed for each day: a colour, a one word prompt and/or a scenario prompt. You do not have to use all 3.

Use the tag #mxtxvalentine so we can find & reblog your posts! Have fun and feel free to reply or send an ask with any questions!

Monday, February 12: purple | family | “I hope that if alternate universes exist, it will still be you and me in the end. I hope that there will always be an us. In every world, in every story.” — Tina Tran [x] Tuesday, February 13: pink | yearning | “Life is partly what we make it, and partly what it is made by the friends we choose.” — Tennessee Williams Wednesday, February 14: red | love | “They'd never been lovers, of course, not in the physical sense. But they'd been lovers as most of us manage, loving through expressions and gestures and the palm set softly upon the bruise at the necessary moment. Lovers by inclination rather than by lust. Lovers, that is, by love.” — Gregory Maguire -Under the cut we will have our rules and some palettes to help with inspiration if needed.

If you have any questions, feel free to send us an ask!

Rules:

All types of content are welcome, whether that be edits, gifs, art, videos, and fanfiction! For fanfiction we only ask that you add the proper tags and that any NSFW piece is put under a read more. All fics that exceed 500 words should also be listed under a read more.

You are free to create NSFW content for the event, but do please tag it correctly. We also reserve the right to not reblog every creation according to our sites regular rules.

Have fun!

#mxtx #mdzs #svsss #tgcf #the untamed #cql #mo dao zu shi #scum villain's self saving system #tian guan ci fu #wohdaily #cdramasource #event: mxtxvalentine

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da-rulah · 11 months

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Rituale Septem - Day 4: Wrath

Pairing: (Secondo x f!reader)

Summary: After being stood up and lied to, Secondo is seething. You should have known better than to go back on your word. Meanwhile, Terzo is facing a wrath of his own...

Rating: Mature, MDNI 18+

Word Count: 10.3k

Warnings: Angst, potentially a little dub-con but this is consensual (safe word included), both are willing parties, m dom & f dom, manhandling, degradation, oral (m + f receiving), throat fucking, spit kink, face sitting, face riding, p in v sex, angry/hate sex, BDSM elements, belt spanking, belt leash, breath play

This chapter features some more extreme sexual themes. If angry sex/mild dub-con/degradation is something you do not think you could handle right now, then please do not read this chapter. If you need plot updates, DM me. I’m happy to share. Your mental health is far more important than a chapter in a fic. Take care of yourself first. 🖤

AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

A/N: @angellayercake once told me we need more Secondo smut in the world. I agreed. So here you go... 😈 The plot really begins to thicken here... so, please let me know if you're enjoying it so far, and don't forget to reblog to help me share my work! 🖤

Prev: Day 3 - Gluttony | Next: Day 5 - Envy

October 28th

You could get used to this.

Expensive silk sheets made a nice change from your usual standard issue cotton. You couldn’t help nuzzling into the fabric, enjoying the soft plush pillow beneath your head and the weight you could feel draped over your waist. As you came to, you reached down and felt the strong arm wrapped around you, the softness of the skin and the tickle of arm hair...

Papa.

You awoke suddenly then, eyes shooting open to the lowlight of the bedroom where the drapes were shut and autumnal sunlight tried desperately to push its way through. Papa’s bare chest was pushed up against your back, cradling you close to him. You hadn’t expected to fall asleep here last night, only to have spent the evening and made your way back to...

Secondo...

“Shit,” you thought to yourself, panic rising in your chest. You’d stood Secondo up. You promised him you’d help him with his work and you never showed... How long had he waited for you? Thirty minutes? An hour? Longer...? It didn’t matter. Whatever time he’d spent waiting for you was bad enough. You had to go, and quickly.

Carefully, you lifted the arm curled around you and slithered from Terzo’s hold, letting his arm down gently as not to disturb him. He grumbled a little but settled quickly, and you stood without looking back at him once. Your dress from the previous night had been draped over the back of an accent chair in the corner of the room, and so you reached for it to pull over your still naked form, cursing yourself for having to do the walk of shame through the halls in last night’s dress. Hopefully the time was still early, and the halls were still quiet... You’d hate for your siblings to see you out of your habit.

The rustling had woken Terzo, whose gaze remained transfixed on your back as you pulled the dress on, struggling a little with the zipper. He kept quiet, a strange feeling of disappointment in his gut. He’d thought that if you were to rush out of here so early, you might have had the inclination to wake him, maybe exchange a few words before running away. And yet, in your panic, you were running out of his bedroom faster than he could say ‘Hell Satan’.

You didn’t even look back at him – and it stung.

If you had, perhaps you would have seen the sombre look on his bare face. Sure, he could have said something to stop you – a simple good morning would have sufficed, but he was a stubborn and emotionally devoid man. If you didn’t even think to turn back and say a word to him, then like a toddler he would sulk and stay quiet himself. Have it your way.

He knew where you were running off to. After all, he was the one to orchestrate this plan; although now he regretted it immensely. Perhaps there would have been another way, but with very little time left to plan each sin and make them authentic, he had to stick to letting you run off to face his brother’s wrath. He hated the thought that today, he wouldn’t get to have you again. This wouldn’t be his day. He had to let you go – and whilst on any other occasion he might have enjoyed the view, today he found himself rolling onto his back and covering his face with his arm after you’d shut the door behind you. He let out a deep breath and a low groan, and allowed himself to sulk.

In Terzo’s living room, you stopped dead. Immediately you realised you weren’t alone – three ghouls were surrounding the dining table you’d made such a mess of last night. Swiss, grinning wildly at you with a taunting wave, Dewdrop, who nodded courtly and... Phantom.

And he could barely look you in the eye.

“Oh, um... Good morning,” you mumbled, adjusting your dress below your knees and folding your arms over your chest.

“Mooooorning,” Swiss teased. “Quite the mess out here, Sister. Good meal?” This little shit.

“Yeah, g-good. I’ve um... Gotta...” you pointed at the door and made a run for it, turning your back to the Ghouls cleaning up the stains and remnants of food and dishes.

“Phantom, don’t stare at Sister ______’s ass while she walks away!” Swiss overdramatically accused, “I know that dress is gorgeous, but have some respect!”

“NO! No, I... I wasn’t, Sister, I s-swear!” Phantom protested, desperately pleading while Swiss and Dewdrop laughed behind him.

“I believe you, Phantom. Swiss, shut the fuck up,” you pointed at him threateningly with a scowl, to which he flipped you off – all in good fun, but you rolled your eyes regardless.

Before any further embarrassment was thrown your way, you quickly left Terzo’s apartment and darted through the halls of the Ministry. Luckily, it was indeed early enough that you didn’t run into any siblings. However, somewhere along your way you had encountered a rather shocked looking Cardinal Copia on his way to his little workshop in the corner of the library where he restored and translated ancient texts; who for a moment let his eyes rake over your body in that fucking dress, before stuttering out a “Buongiorno Sorella” and averting his eyes as you strode past him.

“Good morning, Cardinal,” you retorted dryly, not slowing or stopping to see the way his jaw had dropped, his cheeks had flushed pink and his poor mind had gone blank as he watched you power walk away. Frankly you wanted to avoid any and all social interaction possible, and so you hurried back to your own modest little abode to change, freshen up, and haul your ass down to Secondo’s office.

Satan only knew what was waiting for you when you showed...

The office was empty when you arrived.

Papers littered Secondo’s desk; papers that he was likely up late working on because you hadn’t shown up. They looked messy, disorganised. It was out of character for him, the most organised man you had ever met. The fear and the dread rose like bile in your throat, but you swallowed it down and took your seat. Looking at the clock on the wall, he should be here already. You were in fact fifteen minutes late, so where the hell was he?

You began to worry as the minutes passed, your leg bouncing anxiously under the skirt of your habit. You watched the clock on the wall, wondering when he would walk through that door and reprimand you as you’d expected. To busy yourself you stood, wondering over to his desk to begin sorting through the mess of papers and trying to organise them so he at least wouldn’t be mad they were still in disarray.

After a torturous 27 minutes clock-watching, the doorknob rattled, and the door smacked against the stone wall with a loud bang. You jumped up from Secondo’s chair with a gasp, tripping on the legs of it and stumbling to one side. Secondo stepped into the room and reached back for the door, slamming it shut again so hard you thought the wood might splinter. Thankfully, it did not.

“P-Papa... you scared me,” you said, trembling where you stood. His eyes flickered to your face as he skulked towards his desk, dark and unforgiving. He didn’t say a word, sitting himself down at his desk and ignoring you completely. “I-I... I wasn’t sure you were coming... I was about to come and find you, I thought maybe you were sic-” you began babbling away out of nerves, but he interrupted you.

“I’m fine, Sorella. Merely working to your timetable, sì?” It was dry, sarcastic. You knew what he meant; late because you were late. It was petty, but you knew he could be the pettiest man on earth when he wanted to be. It irritated the fuck out of you.

“About that, I’m sorry I was late last night...”

“Late?!” he raised his voice, looking up at you now. His face was a picture of fury, eyes squinting and lips pursed. “Late doesn’t cover it, eh? You didn’t bother to come at all, if memory serves me.” Every word dripped venom, like a snake sizing up its prey.

“W-well... I did, but when I came you were go-”

“HA!” he scoffed, obnoxiously loudly, “Do not insult my intelligenza (intelligence) by lying to me. By 11:30pm I had neither seen nor heard from you. Not even a call to say you could no longer make it. Perhaps if you had at least granted me that kindness, I would have been okay with working alone long into the night. But no, not so much as a message from a Ghoul.”

He’d caught you in your lie, and it had made him even angrier. You could see the way his chest rose and fell under his robes as he tried to contain it.

“I-I’m sorry...” you began, but he simply would not allow you to finish a single damned sentence.

“Oh, no. It’s fine, Sorella. I’m sure you had more important things to attend to, hm?” His sarcasm was poisonous. If he was angry, then fine. You deserved that much. But his snide attitude? That was never necessary, and it was grinding your last gear... And actually, yes. This was more important than some paperwork he needed doing. Everything you held close to you was at stake if you didn’t complete this ritual correctly. So, you got a little carried away last night. You fell asleep, exhausted. But if he knew the reasons why, maybe he wouldn’t be acting like such a Grade A prick about it all – at least, not if he cared about you in the slightest like he claimed he did yesterday.

“I think you should know what’s been going on, Papa... I’ve been-” yet again, he interrupted you.

“Oh, I know where you’ve been. Opening your legs for my stupido fratellino (stupid little brother) and his ghouls, eh? I didn’t take you for such a common puttana (whore), but I suppose a man can be wrong.”

You stared at him, your eyes wide and glassy with unfallen tears. He’d never spoken to you like this before... He’d been angry at you in the past, sure, for making silly little mistakes in filing or in paperwork when you were just starting out but this? Calling you a whore? This was different. This hurt.

“If you would just let me speak, Papa,” you spoke slowly, deliberately, and through clenched teeth. It took every ounce of restraint you had to keep your composure, to not let the tears spill down your cheeks in anger.

“For what purpose? So you can tell me how you spent the evening hanging off my brother’s dick? Spare me, I do not wish to listen to that,” he held up his hand to silence you – and you saw red.

“No, y’know what? You’re going to listen to this whether you like it or not.” Secondo looked up at you then, eyes wide and wild with rage.

“Mi scus-” No. He was done talking. Time to listen.

“I don’t care, what stupid little feud you have with your brother. That is none of my concern and frankly does not involve me, Papa.” You asserted yourself, taking a step closer to where he sat and staring him down. Your tears had spilled by now, leaving tracks on your cheeks but your eyes glazed over with fury instead, heat rising to your cheeks.

“Just who do you think you are talki-”

“Yesterday you pretended to care about me, what, so you could throw it back in my face when you felt like it? You said you didn’t want me to be scared of you – well guess what; I’m not. And if you think I’m going to stand here and let you call me a whore to my face, you are sorely mistaken. How dare you judge me, when you have no context to the situation at all!” you yelled at him, your temper taking over.

“In what possible context would you screwing mio fratello become something I’d be okay with?” he asked, matching your decibels. Anyone walking past would hear every word through the door, but you couldn’t pay that thought any mind right now. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised; perhaps you are making your way through the entire bloodline, eh? That’s two of us down...” he mocked, jabbing at the night the two of you spent together after Terzo’s ascension. You scoffed at the idea.

“That’s hilarious...” you laughed maniacally. “You think I started that? You came onto me. You poured every ounce of resentment you had into a shot glass and chased it with whiskey. You buried your anger and hurt in the closest and most willing pussy you could find that night, which just so happened to be the assistant who’d do anything to make you stop hating her for trying to learn how to do her fucking job!”

Secondo stood from his chair suddenly, his face hardened in an expression that read solely of enmity. On any normal day you may have cowered, but you could not back down now. You’d come too far, and none of what you were saying was a lie. He needed to hear this. He needed to know that you weren’t going to roll over and take being called a whore or spoken down to anymore – even if it cost you your job at his side.

“Or maybe you were trying to position yourself by the side of a Papa for status, eh?” he taunted. How could he say that? Didn’t he know you at all...?

“If there is one thing you know about me, it is that I do not care for such petty things as ‘status’. I slept with you because I thought you needed someone that night, because I could see you going off the rails. You were acting like a petulant, spoilt fucking child who couldn’t stand to see his little brother take his spot after he had been demoted.”

He snapped at that, your words finally pushing him off the edge... He strode towards you, gripping onto the tops of your arms and pushing you until your back hit the stone of the wall to his left. He got in your space, his nose barely an inch from yours as his mismatched eyes bore furiously into yours.

“You make it sound as if I coerced you, Sorella. Like you weren’t all over me when we danced, like your hands weren’t wandering when we stepped out for fresh air and a cigarette. Like you weren’t as drunk as I was and the one who kissed me first.”

You stayed quiet, knowing he was right. He had you there; you had kissed him first that night, but he had been teasing you, flirting with you all night and if it hadn’t been you, it wouldn’t have been long before it was him. You were both drunk out of your minds, and since then you hadn’t spoken of that night with each other even once. You agreed the morning after to keep it a one-time affair; no strings, no feelings, no repeat offenses.

So how would you explain the stirring in your gut when he pushed you against the wall, pinning your wrists either side of your head?

“You know for a fact, Papa, that you let your pettiness and spite get the better of you that night,” you spat, choosing to ignore that feeling and continue to fight him. “That's what this is, isn’t it? You were jealous of Terzo then,” you leaned your head forward until your noses were barely touching, staring up into his eyes with your teeth bared, “and now that I’m fucking him? You’re jealous now, too.”

With a growl you hadn’t expected to rip from his chest, Secondo hauled you from the wall by your wrists and pulled you towards his desk, manhandling you until he had you bent over the wood with your arms behind your back, leaning over you to whisper into your ear with a quiet acidity to his tone that scared you more than if he’d screamed, “I can give you anything il mio fratellino can, Sorella.”

A thrill ran through you as you found yourself in a position of complete submission, the warmth of Secondo’s breath tickling your earlobe as he whispered.

“You seem to forget, even intoxicated, I gave you a night of pleasure like no other, hm?” he chuckled darkly, his chest vibrating against your shoulder blades where he pressed you into the wood, “And you think I could be jealous of that stronzo?”

You’d be lying if you said he was having no effect on you. Anger radiated through your body, pumping hot and fast through your veins and centring on one focal point – your core.

“If you would like to know what’s got me so fottutamente livido (fucking livid) it’s the fundamental disregard for everybody else around you. You forget your place, dolcezza. You are my assistant,” he shook his grip on your arms as he growled in your ear, your body lifting and slamming back into the wood beneath you, “You are mine, _____. And you will respect me as your fucking Papa.”

He let go of your arms with a final shove into the desk, and took a step back, watching as you panted and seethed in place unsure if you should move yet or not. Part of you wanted to apologise and go back to being the doting and feeble assistant. Part of you wanted to stand up for yourself, to walk out and take your anger out on someone else. And part of you wanted to see how far you could push him until he truly snapped...

“I don’t fucking belong to anybody, Secondo,” you snarled his name purposefully instead of his title, standing up straight and turning to face him. You watched as his hands balled into fists, the creases in his forehead deepening impossibly under his paint and eyes turning into slits.

“You talk too much, Sorella,” he spoke slowly, through teeth clenched so tight you thought they might shatter. You had seen him this angry before, but never at you. You could potentially be ruining your relationship with him right here in this moment, getting yourself fired – even banished if he was angry enough. You had disrespected a former Papa, after all. And the least forgiving... “Get on your knees. Now.”

He left no room for negotiation, but still you hesitated, eyes darting for the door and calculating briefly how you would make a run for it and where you would go should things turn sour. But there was a nagging feeling in your mind, a tiny voice that told you ‘no, stay. You are safe with him. You both need this...’

And so slowly, you did as he told you to, lowering first to one knee, then the other, whilst holding eye contact.

“You will apologise.” It wasn’t a question, nor was it a request. And yet, you stayed silent, chewing on the inside of your cheek as your own anger silently simmered away inside you. He scoffed when you said nothing, threading his leather-clad fingers through your hair and pushing your veil off your head in the process, before tightening his grip and angling your head up to him. He leaned over you, hovering so close you could practically taste him already... “Apologise.”

A beat of silence passed, before you pushed your luck once again, “you first.”

He laughed; a dark, menacing laugh that had your cheeks flushing and the heat pooling at your core throbbing.

“Forget it, then. Perhaps punishment is more fitting, hm? Perhaps, seeing as it is your mouth that got you in trouble, you should use your mouth to get you out of it, too.” He leaned his head to one side, coming to whisper in your ear, “The safe word is ‘cranberry’. If you cannot speak, you tap out three times. Nod if you understand.”

Your lips parted as a breathy whimper left your throat, your head nodding in understanding without so much as a second’s hesitation.

“Brava piccola puttana (Good little whore),” he praised, the fingers in your hair tightening with a squeak of the leather and pulling with a pleasing sting on your roots. He stood up straight again, looking down at you on your knees for him and smirked. “Your mouth, Sorella. Put it to better use than talking back to me.”

As he spoke, he reached between where the material of his robes met. You heard a buckle jingle, a button pop and a zipper undo, some more rustling... but you didn’t remove your gaze from his even for a split second. Not even when you felt the unmistakable silky softness of skin pressing lightly against your bottom lip, where he gently pressed the head of his cock in wait, expecting you to open up for him.

Secondo had been hardening from the moment you’d raised your voice at him. He liked a challenge, and rarely found a woman who would fight back with him. Having a long line of lovers who are so willing to submit to you is fine, of course. It gets him off, he enjoys it. But on the rare occasion a woman defies him so outwardly, pushes his buttons as much as he pushes hers? It lights a fire hotter than hell itself inside him.

He half expected you to run for the hills, to stand up and tell him he was being a perverted old man who thought only with his cock, and so he was only just able to hide his surprise when you actually opened your lips to him, and waited for him to push forward. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of engulfing his head for him...

Slowly but surely, he pushed his hips forward, the head of his cock slipping past your open lips and settling on your tongue. He bared his teeth, clenching his jaw in a sadistic smile when he felt the wet heat on the underside of his cock, and your lips closed around his length.

“Molto bene puttana, (very good, whore),” he jeered, “See? You do know what to do with that mouth. Now, you’re gonna take what I fucking give you, hai capito? (understand?)” You muffled an affirmative hum around his length, still unable to move your head as he held onto your hair tightly. With his free hand, he lightly slapped your cheek twice as if to praise a pet, before he started to rock his hips back and forth, savouring the drag of your mouth on his cock.

Secondo lost himself pretty quickly, thrusting only half of his length in and out of your lips as not to overwhelm you to begin with but the pace he set was rapid and aggressive. He grunted with every snap forward, snarling like an animal every time you’d tighten your lips or suck harder on his outwards strokes.

“Can you take all of me, dolcezza?” he said, the pet name dripping with sarcasm. You blinked up at him and hummed again, your thighs pressing together beneath you as the arousal started to build, and a familiar wetness began to pool between your legs... He pushed himself forward all the way, your nose burying into the patch of hair above the base of his dick where his robes parted, and his suit trousers were undone underneath. His cock filled your throat, and had you not already relaxed it you may have gagged on his length.

“That’s it, Sorella, take it all...” he growled above you, starting to move your head for you with the hand still gripped tightly in your hair. The pull on your roots was painful, but nothing you didn’t enjoy under the right circumstances – and these were certainly the right circumstances. With each push and pull of your hair, the saliva gathered in your mouth and spilled around his length, creating trails down your chin. Your eyes watered at the force of his cock in your throat and the pain of your hair being pulled. You looked like a mess, and he fucking loved it.

“Perhaps instead of disobeying your Papa and having an attitude, this will teach you to show me some fucking respect, eh?” he scolded, his hips unable to keep still and meeting his hand pulling on you with each downward stroke of his length. You were struggling to breath, gagging around him and getting tiny little gasps of air through your nose where possible, until he pulled out of your throat completely with a loud gasp and a trail of saliva connecting the head of his cock to your lips. He held your head upright as he stared you down.

“I don’t... have... a fucking attitude,” you answered back between breaths. His face curled into one of utter disgust, and before you knew what was happening, Secondo’s cheeks hollowed and he spat down onto your face, the glob landing just between your nose and top lip.

“Shut the fuck up, puttana (whore),” he bellowed, his voice sending vibrations of lust through to your centre. Your thighs squeezed together and your eyes teared up at the humiliation. “Clean yourself up,” he demanded, his free hand now gripping your chin to hold you still underneath him.

Reluctantly, you parted your lips, your tongue coming to lick at the glob of saliva settled under your nose and gather it on your tongue. Secondo smirked, lining his cock up with your tongue and dragging the head through his own spit, drawing little circles over the surface. You could taste the hint of precum that had gathered on his tip as he watched you.

“You can take orders, hm? Brava,” he praised, before roughly shoving his cock back down your throat and beginning a punishing pace once again. He threw his head back in pleasure, holding you still with both hands as he fucked your throat. Your hands flew to his thighs, gripping at the muscles to steady yourself and give yourself something to hold onto. Your nails digging into his thighs over his robes and trousers still had a bite to them, sending him spiralling further into pleasure. Suddenly, he pulled his cock from your throat and took a step back, letting you fall onto all fours where you lost your balance gasping for breath and drooling onto the stone.

“You don’t deserve my cum yet, Sorella. You will work for it,” he panted, gripping the base of his cock to stave off the orgasm that had clearly been so close. “Take off your habit. Sit on the edge of my desk. Do not make me fucking wait,” he warned.

You gathered a sliver of composure before you obeyed, unbuttoning your habit as you stood, ignoring the drool and tears painting your face. If you had caught your reflection at that moment, you’d have seen your eyes smudged of mascara, your cheeks stained red with arousal and anger, your lips swollen and shimmering from his assault. Secondo thought you’d never looked prettier...

You hesitate for a moment, once finally nude. You place your palms flat on the short edge of his desk and lean down, your mind racing. He was being the asshole here, not you... He should be the one on his fucking knees for you, begging forgiveness for daring to call you a whore at all. You span to face him, your faced screwed up in fury. Before he could berate you for making him wait as he had so clearly warned you not to do, you were grabbing him by the collar of his robe and spinning him, his ass hitting the edge of his desk as you pushed him flat on his back. You climbed on top of him with a knee either side of him, pinning him in place as you straddled his chest.

“My fucking turn,” you snapped, shuffling forwards until your core aligned with his face. You reached behind you to grab him by the wrists, his hands already coming up to attempt to fight you but you took control too quickly, sinking your hips down until his lips came into contact with your wet, waiting core. Secondo growled into you, before obliging and parting his lips, tongue coming out to lick a fat, wet stripe down through your folds.

You gasped at the contact, leaning your weight back onto his chest where you held his hands still. You rolled your body, grinding down against his face and using his nose, chin, lips and tongue to your advantage, smearing his paints with your essence. You ground your clit down onto his waiting tongue, using him for your own pleasure the way he had used you. The pent up anger and frustration of that morning was pushed into every roll of your hips, grinding harder and harder down with no regard for Secondo’s lung capacity. He knew what to do if he needed to tap out, but he took it. He let you use him, barely tried to fight you as he lost himself in how you tasted on his tongue.

You wailed as the pleasure built, moans of ecstasy mixing with grunts of aggression. You let go of Secondo’s wrists and immediately his hands flew to wrap around your upper thighs, holding you down against him as if he couldn’t get enough of you. His tongue buried itself deep inside you at every given opportunity, his nose becoming the focal point for your clit to grind in circles to accumulate as much pleasure as you possibly could.

You fell forwards, hands slamming to the desk to steady yourself on all fours. Your hips bucked onto his tongue, cries of bliss rolling from your own. Heat bloomed and radiated, your orgasm approaching impossibly fast as you put all of your energy, all of your anger into using Secondo’s face to get off. Just as you were about to fall over the edge, completely lost in chasing your high and forgetting that the face below you was indeed attached to a very angry man... he disappeared from beneath you.

Using his now freed hands he pushed you forward and off balance, sliding down the desk and away from you to stand up, spinning in place to turn back to you. His hands reached out and grabbed your thighs as you screamed incredulous profanities at him, demanding he get the fuck back under you and make you finish. Your focus had been too much on cumming, and you’d lost the power you’d taken within seconds...

“You’re lucky you got away with that as long as you fucking did, puttana,” he growled, dragging you to the edge of the desk harshly until your legs dropped off, stomach hitting the wood with a thud. You tried to grip the table, to put up more of a fight be he was too quick, and far too strong. You knew you were in trouble, that Secondo would get you back and punish you for that little stunt but it only served to turn you on more, a wave of fresh arousal pooling where his paints were smeared over your dripping cunt while you clenched around nothing desperately.

“What am I gonna do with this attitude of yours, eh? You think it’s okay to defy your Papa? To use him for your own fucking pleasure?” As he reprimanded you, you could hear the buckle of his belt jingling again and the telltale sound of the leather being dragged through his belt loops. “Clearly my cock in your throat wasn’t punishment enough, hm? You need to really be taught a lesson, Sorella.”

He gathered the leather belt in his hands, creating a bend and running it down your spine as he held you still with one hand.

“What, are you gonna hit me with it? Do your fucking worst,” you taunted, wriggling your bare ass and earning a dark chuckle from behind you. Before you had time to ready yourself, he brought the leather down to your ass cheek in one very quick, very harsh smack. Your body jolted, chest falling flat against the desk as you cried out. The sting was incredible, and yet, all it did was turn you on more. That mix of anticipation, pain, pleasure all at once... It was dizzying.

“Aw, poor Sorella. That’s left a mark already...” he mocked, running his gloved hand over the welt he’d created before delivering another harsh smack over the other cheek, revelling in the way you squeaked and writhed for him.

And there was nothing you could do – not that you wanted to stop this at all. You had your safeword if you needed it, but the throb of your neglected pussy was all you needed to tell you that you fucking needed this. All of the frustrations and hurt that had built up over the last few months, maybe even years, around your wavering faith and your doubt were coming to a head, spilling out in how you were acting and finally expressing themselves. This experience was nothing but cathartic, whether you were the one controlling it or not.

Right now, Secondo and his wrath were exactly what you needed... one belted spank at a time.

Terzo sat at his desk, foot tapping rapidly against the stone floor of his office. He leaned his forehead on his palm, staring down at the document beneath him, re-reading the same paragraph once, twice, three times before he gave up with a sigh, leaning back against his chair. His focus was all off, every tiny little thing around him irritating him to no end.

His mind was too busy. Occupied, regrettably, with thoughts of you.

His mind raced with images of the previous night; how enraptured he’d been in you, how he lost himself in the intimacy and passion you’d shared. And in contrast, he ran the events of this morning over in his head; how you’d left so suddenly without so much as a ‘good morning’ or a look in his direction. Probably running off to Secondo, scared of him after you’d stood him up last night.

Ah yes, Secondo. You’d be with him right now, wouldn’t you? And if all had gone to plan, he’d probably be taking his wrath out on you as he sat there in his office. Or maybe you’d be the one to be so angry at him, you’d taken the control. He wasn’t sure which was worse...

He despised the idea.

He regretted putting this plan in motion, using his brother to carry out wrath with you. He should have found a way to do it himself; he didn’t want to share anymore. Yes, that was selfish of him. This wasn’t even about him. These were your sins, it was about your devotion to the Dark One. He needed to help you, to guide you so there could be no mistakes made and each sin was performed to the best of your abilities so you could get the clarity and the guidance you needed when all of this was over. That’s what was so important, here. And some sins required different expertise, potentially even multiple people. He would have to deal with that.

Wherever this jealousy was coming from, it would have to stay locked up tight. He couldn’t pay it the attention he was giving it already. Nurturing it would only allow it to grow, and his possessiveness was just infatuation. This was just some of the most exciting sex he had had in years. It was nothing more than that; black and white.

And yet, as his mind unwillingly pictured you and Secondo screaming at each other, taking out your anger on each other in the way he knew you would be, his fists clenched and his muscles contracted. Anger of his own bubbled and brewed, spilling over when he smacked at the lamp on his desk, knocking it so hard it hit the floor with a smash. His breaths turned into long, deep exhales as he tried his best to cool himself down, to stop whatever ugly emotion this was that was presenting itself. But that’s the thing about growing up with very little emotional stability...

You never learn to control it.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was throwing a fit in his office. Papers went flying from his desk, books being thrown against walls, chairs being turned over and clattering on the floor all whilst he growled and barked like an animal, losing any semblance of control he had.

He kept picturing his brother’s smug fucking grin when he’d tell him you’d performed wrath together. He kept picturing the way you’d left this morning, leaving him cold and alone after what he thought had been a night of unbridled passion together. He cursed himself for being so fucking stupid as to get so wrapped up in his own fantasies that he actually thought you might be a little more affectionate towards him, that maybe there was something more between you both.

He felt like an idiot, and his own humiliation and self-hatred had personified itself in a wrath of his own making.

Terzo stared at the mess he’d made of his office, his chest heaving in deep breaths. Now, in a post-rage clarity, he laughed at himself, dragging his hands over his face in exasperation.

“Terzo, you vecchio sciocco (old fool),” he mumbled to himself, just before a timid knock on his door brought him back to reality.

Sister Christine poked her head through as she opened the door slightly, her eyes widening when she saw the mess of his office. She’d heard the commotion, heard his yells and the string of Italian profanities from her little desk in the adjoining office.

“Is everything alright, Papa?” she asked, scared to enter the room in case he might turn on her. He’d never raised his voice to her once in her time as his assistant, but there was something different about him lately. He was distracted, irritable, overstressed and overworked.

Terzo chuckled at his own ridiculousness, before meeting Christine’s eyes and smiling softly in an attempt to reassure her.

“Fine, Sorella. Mi scusi, I had a little... accident,” he lied, not bothering to come up with anything better.

“O-oh... Well, I’ll help you clean up,” she stepped into the room then, heading for some of the scattered papers on the floor by the door.

“No, per favore... This was my fault. I’ll... I’ll do it,” he sighed, walking over to where she crouched on the floor and taking the papers from her hands gently. “Grazie, but please. Would you leave me?” he asked, a wave of sadness crossing his features that Christine certainly didn’t miss, but didn’t mention either. Her brow just furrowed as she nodded silently.

“If you do need anything Papa, please tell me. It is my job, after all,” she said as she left, smiling comfortingly before closing the door behind her. She was a sweetheart, Sister Christine. Terzo knew that anything he needed, she’d happily humour him. She certainly had in the past... Sister Christine had been a source of stress relief for him more than once. Perhaps that’s exactly what he needed; a distraction, or rather, a reminder that you were not the only woman who could give him what he needed.

Maybe that could break the spell you seemed to have cast over him...

It was that thought that sparked an idea in his mind. A wicked, devious idea... but it might just work.

You'd lost count how many welts Secondo had painted into your ass cheeks, tears brimming and flowing from your eyes as he landed one final, harsh blow that hit your swollen pussy between the swell of your ass cheeks. It sent a jolt of electricity through your entire body as you sobbed into the fist you bit down on to keep from screaming.

“Some very pretty shades of red and purple back here now, Sorella,” Secondo marvelled, grazing his palm over your ass. “Bellissima.” You just whimpered in response, unable to think of anything smart to quip back at him.

“Does it hurt, dolcezza?” he patronised you, rubbing light circles over the welts.

“N-no...” you lied, one last act of defiance.

“Questo tuo dannato atteggiamento... (that damn attitude...)” he growled, “Am I going to have to fuck it out of you, puttana?”

You didn’t respond with words, instead gathering some strength in your weakened legs to push your ass back against him, his cock still hard and ready for you beneath his robes. You felt his length and chased it, but he backed his hips up out of reach and held you tighter down on the desk.

“How am I going to keep you where I put you, hm?” he asked rhetorically. Looking back at him, you saw him staring down at you with messy paints where you’d sat earlier. His face was dark and mocking, the belt still looped in his hands. He saw your eyes drift down to the leather, and smirked as an idea came to him. “That could work,” he chuckled, letting go of you and threading the belt through the buckle.

He leaned forward, looping the homemade collar over your head and letting the buckle slide to tighten the loop around your neck like a leash. He pulled lightly on it and watched as your back arched, head lifting like he’d planned. Now he truly had you where he wanted you...

“Now, Sorella, you’re going to take every inch of my cock, and you’re going to thank me for it. Do you understand me?” You would have nodded if you had the flexibility to, but instead you whimpered against the tightness around your neck. “Words, puttana.”

“Y-yes,” you choked. He tugged sharply at the belt.

“Yes, what?” You chewed on your lip a little, hesitating. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, but you didn’t have a whole lot of choice in this position...

“Yes... Papa...” you spat, straining as your hands held you up on the desk for some light relief against your new leash.

“Bene,” he praised briefly, letting the leash go a little slack while he lined himself up to your puffy and dripping cunt. Without another word, he pushed the head of his cock through your folds and inside your quivering walls. You felt so tight around him, squeezing him impossibly as he filled you to the brim, bottoming out. He grunted, free hand gripping your sore cheeks and squeezing. You clenched around him at the ignition of more pain to your ass and he revelled in it. You liked the pain he was giving you, that perfect balance of the scales of pain and bliss. He often found they worked well hand in hand...

He allowed you to get used to him with a few gentler strokes of his hips, but before long, he was fucking into you hard. He kept his pace slow and calculated on his outward strokes, but as soon as the head of his cock would be about to pop back out of you, he would ram his hips against your ass in one very quick, very brutal thrust. Each time, he would grunt in satisfaction. Each time, he would pull on your leash. Each time, it would make you cry out.

It felt fucking euphoric... The girth of his cock stretched you so wonderfully, the pain of your abused ass being slammed into offsetting the undeniable high of direct thrusts to your g-spot. He was using you, teasing you, punishing you. You wanted so much more, needed more stimulation, a release but he was doing just enough to keep you on edge whilst reminding you that he had the control here. You had lost it long ago.

Secondo poured all of his anger into each thrust, his face carved into an expression that could have killed had you looked directly into his eyes. He was like a man possessed, those slow and deliberate poundings getting quicker and quicker, slowly building as he too lost the control he’d given himself.

Before long, he gave up trying, allowing his thrusts to get faster without losing that punishing strength. His hips slapped against your ass over and over again, each blissful hit to your g-spot coupled with another shocking burn in your ass. He pulled so tight on the leash your back arched and head fell back, now able to see him upside down as you contorted to accommodate the leather restraint. Your hands kept you upright, the tightness around your neck adding to the high.

“You’ve been acting like a fucking brat for the last couple of weeks, ______. You think I didn’t notice you whoring yourself out to mio fratello? Your wandering eyes, your tardiness, your blatant disregard for your true fucking Papa?” he hissed, his pace becoming unforgiving. You cried out, already teetering on the edge of an orgasm with the mix of sensations and his degradation. “Tell me who you fucking belong to, puttana.”

“I-I don’t... belong... to anyone,” you challenged, that same rage from before simmering away at the surface.

“Wrong,” he pulled sharply at the leash, “try again.”

“N-Not his...” you snarled.

“No, not his. Correct,” his cock pounded into you, upward strokes igniting every pleasurable nerve inside you. “Then who?”

“N-not... not yours... either,” you sassed, sentence broken by each harsh thrust he delivered. He scoffed darkly, using his hand to deliver a harsh smack to your already burning ass.

“Say that again, I dare you.” You stayed quiet, only whining at the high that you were chasing, so desperate to reach it. “Tell me. Who the fuck do you belong to, _____?”

That last time you had slept with him, all those years ago, he had been only a fraction of this person. He had been dominant, controlling, angry; yes. But never like this. Never before had he let himself go like this around you. It turned you on to no fucking end...

“Y-you! Fuck, I belong... to you... Papa...” you conceded. If you didn’t give him what he wanted, he’d never let you cum. And right now, that’s all you wanted. You needed it so fiercely.

“There’s the truth... brava puttana, (good whore,)” he barked, loosening the grip on the leash momentarily. “Good puttane (whores) cum when they’re told, sì?”

“Yes, Papa...” You were so close, the pressure in your core ready to burst.

“Will you cum on my cock when I tell you, Sorella?” he asked, leaning over you to stroke his thumb over your jawline, rutting into you like an animal in heat.

“Y-yes, Papa... please,” you begged, all defiance and dignity long gone.

“You ask so nicely,” he scoffed, “cum on my cock. Now,” he demanded.

You were already too close to be able to deny his request, your body giving in and the build-up of pressure bursting within you like a firework. The sparks flew through your body, igniting every nerve. You wanted to scream, but the sound caught in your throat when he tugged sharply on the leash again, adding another layer to your high. He didn’t relent, stroking his cock over your walls over and over while you clenched and convulsed around him.

You tightened impossibly on his length as you came down from your delirium, and with just a few more thrusts Secondo was pulling out of you and cumming over your bruised and welted ass. Rope after rope of hot seed hit your skin, the warmth of it only accentuating the burn to your cheeks. The leash around your neck was let go, air flooding your lungs and oxygen going straight to your head. You collapsed to the wood, finally able to let out a gasping moan as your hands gripped the edges of the desk for purchase, for something to ground you. Secondo had to do the same, holding himself up as he caught his breath.

By the time either of you were able to be coherent, the burn of your ass had dulled and the stains had dried.

“Sorella, I...” he pushed himself up, standing with a groan at the ache in his back, “I'll get a cloth. Stay there.”

He hobbled over to the small en-suite toilet, tucking himself back into his trousers and doing them up as he walked. The belt stayed loosely looped around your neck where you lay, your eyes closing in exhaustion and an unwillingness to move. Soon enough, Secondo came back with two damp cloths he’d moistened with cold water. He pressed the first gently to your ass, soothing the welts whilst simultaneously cleaning up the mess he had left there. The second, he dragged over your centre, cleaning you of his smudged paints and your own juices.

The cool feeling was welcomed, and you were grateful for the care he took. Secondo was a heavy lover, but even last time he had taken good care of you when it was all over. You trusted him to do so now, too.

He disappeared again with the cloths, rinsing them and coming back to soothe the marks a few times over to cool them once they’d warmed against your skin. Eventually, you felt able to stand, the welts not so bad anymore. Secondo handed you your habit and underwear, allowing you to dress yourself while he took the belt from your neck and removed his robe, hanging it over the back of his chair to thread the belt back through his trousers.

Rarely did you see Secondo without his robes. He was a proud man, and a stickler for tradition, order and uniform. But each time you would see him in just a shirt and slacks, you were reminded that he too was just a man, under the surface.

“Difficult to stay mad at you after that,” he chuckled awkwardly, leaning against the back of his chair on his forearms. You adjusted your veil on your head, smiling briefly at him, unable to hold eye contact. You weren’t sure what to do now. Were you to go back to work? Continue your day as if the pair of you hadn't just taken all your rage out on each other in some brutal hate sex?

“Just for the record... I know you don’t belong to me. Whatever this is,” he motioned to the space between you both, “it’s nothing more than sex. I hold no possession over you, nor do I harbour any hidden romantic feelings for you.”

You knew that, and you felt much the same. Neither of you had even made a move to kiss the other this time around; just pure sex, a way of venting. Besides, you couldn’t hold romantic feelings towards Secondo. Not now, anyway...

“I know, Papa. I don’t either.” Secondo smiled softly at that.

“I know you don’t... Besides, I was more angry that you never showed last night than I was about whatever it is that’s going on with Terzo. That’s your business,” he held up his hands at that, “and you do know how to push my buttons. You probably understand me more than most.”

He was referring to his jealousy of his brother in general; his anger at being demoted and replaced by a brother he saw as too reckless, too self-obsessed to be ready for the role. You knew how he felt about that after the night of Terzo’s ascension, and his attitude towards Terzo ever since.

“Not to speak out of turn, Papa, but... you should cut him some slack, I think...” you shrugged, feigning nonchalance, “he is trying to do what’s best for the Ministry, for his flock...”

He was helping you, after all...

“Yes, yes... Perhaps you’re right. He does seem to be stepping up to help more, recently,” he chuckled, reaching towards his desk drawer. “Is he helping you?” he asked suggestively.

At first, you thought he meant sexually... You figured he was making a crass joke about Terzo helping you orgasm or something stupid along those lines. Until, he pulled out a clipboard from his drawer...

“W-what’s that?” you asked, suddenly nervous. Did Secondo know?

“I was talking to him just a couple of days ago, Sorella. He said he was helping you with a problem you were having...” he smirked, picking up his spectacles from his drawer and placing them on his nose, pretending to look over whatever was on the clipboard in front of him.

“W-well... he is, yes. It’s, um...” you stuttered – how much did he know?

“He figured I might be able to lend a hand. So, dolcezza,” he looked up over his spectacles at you, flipping around the clipboard for you to see the list with three out of seven sins already crossed off, “shall we cross off ‘wrath’ together?”

The smug look on his face only barely irritated you, instead amusing you as you shook your head in disbelief.

“You bastards...” you laughed, dragging your palm over your face. “You fucking planned all this.”

“Sì,” he laughed, “and it worked a little too well, I think. But eh,” he shrugged, taking a pen and crossing wrath off the list, “cathartic for us both.”

“I’m going to kill you both,” you threatened, taking a seat at your desk and wincing a little at the pain of your bruised ass.

“I believe it,” he laughed, taking a seat at his desk too and locating his spare paints in his desk drawers with a pocket mirror, reapplying what you’d wiped away earlier.

Answering your own question, you did, indeed, simply go back to work. Any anger, spite or irritation was cleared. There were no secrets anymore, and now that you knew Secondo was aware of what you were doing there was an enormous sense of relief. He told you what he knew, what Terzo had told him of your doubts, your struggles. He was supportive, only encouraging you to keep going with the ritual. He wanted to see you succeed. He, like Terzo, wanted to help where he could.

Did it hurt him that someone he held so close to him was doubting her faith in the Dark One? Of course it did, but it was nothing personal. He couldn’t allow it to bother him or cloud how he saw you. And he had enough faith in Lucifer that should this ritual be completed correctly, he would put you back on the right path.

You wouldn’t waver for long; and so he pledged to give you whatever you needed to complete this ritual; time off, breaks, supplies, anything... He needed you at his side – his devoted assistant. His friend.

Terzo was seconds away from tearing his hair out.

His day had gone from bad to worse when Sister Imperator had burst into his office some time that afternoon, demanding more paperwork of him and dropping stacks of it on his desk. She had given him yet another lecture about his ‘conduct’, going so far as to compare his uselessness to that of his father’s; that had not sat well with him at all.

If there was one thing he certainly did not want to be, it was anything like that lousy excuse of a padre.

As the sun set outside his office, he looked out at the view of the Ministry gardens from where he sat. Judging by the stack of papers on his desk still, he would be here long after the sun had dipped past the horizon.

His mind wandered as he took in the colours; the autumnal oranges, reds and browns only highlighted by the orange glow of a setting sun. It was so beautiful outside. He wished he could go for a walk, enjoy the crisp air instead of being cramped up inside his musty old office. He wished you were at his side, strolling through Primo’s well organised flowerbeds. Perhaps he would take your hand in his, enjoy your company, your chatter. He could get to know you more, learn a little about your history, your likes and dislikes.

Terzo shook his head of the idea, diverting his attention back to the papers beneath him. He couldn’t think of you right now, or let his mind wander in over-romanticised fantasies. He’d only end up drowning in his delusions, finding himself getting more jealous, yearning for something with you that he knew he would never have. He couldn’t; you would never want him and the baggage he came with. He was not a relationship kind of man. Not a single relationship had ever made it past a month, his inability to let anybody in being his Achille's heel. No matter how perfect the fantasies he’d drawn of you and him were, that would never be the case.

It had taken him a ridiculous amount of self-searching to even admit that he was having such fantasies to himself. If he couldn’t open his own mind up to the idea of more with you, how could he ever open himself up to you? No, this was just fantasy. He kept telling himself, over and over... just fantasy. Nothing more. This would pass, as it always did.

When the work day had ended a couple of hours ago, and Sister Christine had left for the day, he had removed his papal paints that were cracking with each harsh frown the stress of the day had brought him. His robes hung up in their usual cabinet, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and top button undone; the collar had felt suffocatingly tight in his overburdened state.

He got to work, focussed on the mountain left for him by Imperator long into the evening with the glow of his lamp – now fixed together with hot glue and a fresh lightbulb – to guide him.

It was around 8:30pm when you left the mess hall after dinner, thinking you might pay Papa Terzo a visit, tell him that today had gone well and hand him back the clipboard he had given to Secondo. Most of the siblings were in their dorms or hanging around in the mess hall still, and so the corridors were quiet – particularly around the clergy offices, most headed home for the night. At dinner, Sister Christine had sat with you, told you he would be working late. Something to do with Sister Imperator and a stack of files that ‘had to be sorted right away’. You’d sighed to yourself at that; she worked that man too hard.

Still, at least you knew where to find him. And so, when you arrived at his office door you didn’t knock, assuming he wouldn’t mind you entering unannounced. You would only be quick, letting him know wrath was checked off the list and handing him his clipboard back.

You opened the door a crack, peering in to see him sat at his desk. He looked exhausted.

Perhaps it was just the low light, but you could see dark bags under his eyes where his paints usually sat. You realised then, he was completely barefaced. And you couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was underneath it all... The darkness in the room still concealed him somewhat, but you still could see him. In the years you had known him, you had never seen him without a spec of paint on his face. You would have had you not sprinted from his bedroom that morning, but you weren’t to know that. Right now, whilst you could marvel at what you could see of his good looks under the shadows of the low lighting, you could see he looked truly vulnerable.

He leaned his head on his hand, fingers gripping tightly at his black locks. They were dishevelled, like he’d been running his hand through his hair over and over all evening at the stress. His forehead was creased in a scowl, and he was muttering to himself in Italian.

So enamoured in his work as he was, he didn’t notice you looking in on him. He’d missed the creak of the door, and was too involved in his work to notice you peering through the crack. You’d never seen him so stressed, and you figured maybe now was not the time to interrupt his flow. Compared to his work, this was just a trivial matter.

No, you would come back tomorrow after he’d got some rest. And maybe he’d have a plan for whatever the next sin was to cross off the list.

Quietly, you closed the door again, careful not to let the latch snap shut and disturb him. You hugged the clipboard to your chest and began sneaking away from his door, heading back to your dorm with a heavy feeling on your chest.

You couldn’t help but feel for Terzo. If it wasn’t for the workload you knew he’d been given, you would have offered him some solace, maybe asked if he’d like to go for a walk through the gardens for some fresh air? Just a small gesture, to ease the stress and give him the break he deserved. And selfishly, you would have to admit spending some time with him wouldn’t be the worst thing, either...

But you couldn’t distract him. Not tonight.

Maybe you could help tomorrow, instead.

Prev: Day 3 - Gluttony | Next: Day 5 - Envy

A huge thank you to @her-satanic-wiles for beta reading, and @adinferix for fine tuning the Italian translations! 🖤

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late-to-the-party-81 · 2 months

Text

Love, Lies & Electricity - Chapter 3

AN: Here we are - week 7 of @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer. I hope you’re all enjoying this story. Revisit part 2 here.

Additional thanks and kisses to @drabbles-mc for beta-ing this

If you would like to be added to my tag list, click here.

Moodboard by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Likes are loved, Reblogs are golden.

Master List | HBS Master List

Challenges and Bingos: HBS week 7 - Put this on for me

Summary: If someone had told you yesterday that you’d be having sex with your ex so you could escape the bad guys you’d have said they needed their head examined, yet, here you were….

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

CW: Sexual Content, Dubious Consent, Angst, Imprisonment, Drugging, Forced sex, canon typical violence, Flashbacks, hand-wavy science.

For some reason, it was as your hand gripped his cock that Bucky regained some semblance of lucidity, albeit momentarily.

“Stop,” he said, and you stilled, looking at him with confusion, the fire of unnatural desire heating you up from the inside.

Bucky shifted underneath you and you climbed off him, still baffled as he crossed the small space to the pallet you’d woken up on and pulled the sheet from it free. He returned to your side and passed it to you, before sitting back down and staring back up at you with wide eyes.

“Put it on for me, sweetheart. I don’t want anyone else to see you.” There was something in the possessive purr that ignited a spark within you, and you couldn’t say it was entirely caused by the drug in your veins.

Meeting his gaze, you wrapped the fabric around you, tucking it in across your chest before resettling on his lap. Bucky’s hand was immediately on the back of your neck, holding you as he kissed you with ferocity he’d never shown before, even in the initial days of your relationship. Your hands gripped his shoulders for balance as your wet folds slid over his cock. The want - the need - for him was burning through your veins and only a minute or so later you were reaching between you, holding him steady in your hand, and sinking down.

The pair of you gasped and trembled in tandem as your body took him in. It hadn’t forgotten the feel of him, how goddamn right he felt inside you. You’d always thought that he’d been made to fit you perfectly, like a matching puzzle piece. It was one of the reasons why his betrayal had hurt so much.

“Fuck,” Bucky grunted out, and you were inclined to agree. He leant his head back against the wall, his eyes hooded and his hand now on your waist to steady you as his hips jerked in time to your movements. “This isn’t how I wanted this to happen,” he added. “Us being together again.”

Pleasure shot through you, but it didn’t stop you from saying what you were thinking. “I didn’t want this to happen at all.” You shuddered atop him as his cock brushed over that spot inside you. “I’m only doing this so we can get out of here.”

Hurt flashed in his eyes and stabbed you in the gut. “I’m so sorry for everything, doll. I’ve missed you - missed us - so much.”

You closed your eyes, screwing them up, unable to look at him. “Please don’t,” you whispered. “I can’t talk about this right now.” Then, to make sure he got the message, you leant forward and kissed him, halting the conversation entirely.

It was the feeling of being sprayed with water that woke you. Bucky sat up from behind you with a start. “What the fuck?”

You couldn’t say you were surprised at this turn of events and moved to a sitting position in a far more dignified manner as water came down from sprinklers in the ceiling. At least the effects of the drug appeared to have worn off both of you.

“They’re literally damping my powers,” you said with a resigned sigh. You lifted your right hand and a pathetically small crackle of energy arced across your palm. The action caused you to wince.

With a furrowed brow Bucky rose - naked and completely nonplussed - to his feet and strode across the room towards the door. He pulled back his right arm, ready to punch at the sheet of metal separating the pair of you from the outside world when you became aware of something.

“Don’t!” you cried out. “The door’s electrified. I can feel it in the air.”

Bucky halted his movement, leaning his head closer and cocking it to the side, as though he was listening. Maybe he could hear the current? The pair of you had never really talked about the extent of his abilities. He looked down at his feet where they were placed in a small puddle of water and snorted. “They’re using electricity to control the both of us.”

“But on the plus side, neither of us is being driven to distraction by hyper-arousal.”

“For now, at least,” Bucky added pessimistically. Or maybe it was realism? “If they’re set on this plan, they won’t just drug us once - they’ll do it over and over to make sure that you get pregnant.” You pulled a face, and Bucky laughed dryly. “The thought of having my baby is really that bad?”

“The thought of having any baby. It’s not for me right now. That’s why I had the implant put in.” You jiggled your arm at him - an arm that now had a healing incision wound on the bicep.

With a wry smile, Bucky returned to your side, leaning against the wall. You watched the light spray run down his face before turning away to look down at your own body. The swathes of white cotton hadn’t turned completely translucent yet and still hid your body from the view of anyone who might be watching.

“It could take months.” There was a quiver to your voice that you didn’t want to analyse too much. “And what then? What would they do with you?” Neither of you turned to look at the other, but when his hand brushed against yours, you let him interlace your fingers together.

You sat like that together, watching the mist of water in the air until Bucky spoke again. “We’ll get out of here, doll. I promise.”

You didn’t know why, but the way he said it brought a lump to your throat and you drew your hand away. “You promised me things in the past, Bucky. Look how that turned out.” You heard him sigh as you laid down, your back towards him.

The spray of water stopped, and despite the fact you’d not long woken up, you drifted back to sleep.

It was a blithe remark by Sam that brought it all crashing down. A comment - a question - about whether Bucky had managed to persuade you to join the Avengers yet.

“It’s not something we’ve ever talked about,” you replied as you sat next to Sam in the bar while Bucky and Torres were off getting the next round of drinks.

Sam frowned, looking perplexed. “What, not even when you first met? Because that’s what I asked him to do. Ask you, I mean. You could be a real asset to the team with your powers.”

It was your turn to be confused. You weren’t completely stupid - Bucky obviously knew about your powers, but when you’d first met it had been as one Hydra survivor seeking out another, offering support now you were back in the real world. But he’d never asked you about the extent of your powers, or told you that he’d been asked to recruit you.

You were quiet when Bucky returned and placed your drink in front of you, but if he noticed your uncharacteristic sullen-ness he didn’t mention it. When you both returned to your apartment - a place that was beginning to feel like a home for the pair of you - you feigned tiredness and went straight to bed.

It was the middle of the next morning when Bucky asked you what was the matter. He came up behind you as you did the washing up - your hands protected from the water with thick rubber gloves - and wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing the sensitive spot behind your ear. “You okay, doll?” he murmured. “You’ve been awfully quiet.”

You’d pushed your way out of his embrace and put space between you, feeling suffocated by your swirling thoughts. Bucky had looked at you, brows pinched, gun-metal eyes questioning.

“Did Sam tell you to recruit me?” The words tumbled out in a rush and your boyfriend blanched.

“Sweetheart, I…”

You cut him off, eyes wide with disbelief. “He did, didn’t he? Before you even met me.”

Bucky winced, but didn’t say anything - which told you everything you needed to know.

“That's why you approached me, isn’t it? Not to give me support, or help me adjust. But to get me to agree to be part of the team. To use my powers in your fight. Jesus Christ…” You turned away, eyelids blinking rapidly to hold back the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks as your heart, so newly repaired and fragile, started to crack again. You peeled your gloves off your hands, wiping your fingers on your jeans to get rid of the small amount of moisture that transferred.

“Were you waiting for me to fall in love with you?” Your voice was low and surprisingly steady. “Were you hoping that I’d just fall in with your plans when I was too besotted to think straight?”

The continuing silence made rage build inside you, and you spun back around, launching the damp gloves at Bucky. They connected ineffectively with his chest and landed on the ground at his feet with a splat.

“How could you do that? How could you be like them?” There was pure vitriol in your voice. “How could you use me? After everything they did to me? After everything they did to you?” Bucky opened his voice, but your powers crackled threateningly around you and he seemed to think better of it. “I trusted you, Bucky. I thought we had something real, you and I. But it was just a lie. A ploy.” Hysterical laughter bubbled up your throat. “Well, fuck you! Fuck Sam. Fuck the Avengers. And fuck whatever this was.” You gestured between you, electricity arcing out. Bucky’s hair was starting to stand on end from the current in the air and the lightbulb above you started to pulse. “Get out. Before I fry you.”

He stepped back, an unreadable expression on his face. Again, he looked as though he wanted to say something, before changing his mind once more. He moved to the front door, and gave one last look over his shoulder before walking away.

As you dropped to the floor, arms wrapped around yourself, the tears now flowing down your cheeks, your powers diminished too and all the lights in your apartment went out with them.

The next time you woke it was to something that felt a lot more pleasant, but was still no less unsettling - Bucky kissing the back of your neck. His warm body was pressed up against you, and in your half asleep state, with what you suspected was a drug induced ache between your legs, you pressed back against him.

“‘M sorry, doll,” he mumbled. “They released a gas while you slept and I tried to fight it, but it’s too strong.”

“‘S okay,” you soothed in return, reaching behind you to run your fingers through his hair, unable to fight the desire inside you. “I need it too, Bucky. Wanna pretend. Let me pretend.”

Cool air ran over the backs of your thighs and ass as Bucky lifted the sheet up, and you angled your upper leg to give him space. When he sunk into your body you felt a combination of pleasure and relief, and stuttered out a groan. You also pretended not to hear him state, “It was always real to me, sweetheart.”

You felt like a wet cat, and probably had the personality to go with it at this moment in time. Time had passed in a cycle of drugging and soaking, and you weren’t entirely sure how much time had passed since you’d been caught in Hydra’s trap. Food had appeared at random intervals, coinciding with both of you passing out post enforced mating, and there was a lidded plastic bucket so you could relieve yourselves.

During one lucid moment, Bucky had torn your sheet down to a more manageable size and constructed himself some kind of loin cloth from the remnants. If it were any other situation you’d have cracked a Tarzan joke. Instead the pair of you were trying to keep sane by playing games of tic tac toe using little balls of torn threads from the sheet and buttons pulled from the mattresses. It felt rather futile.

“How the fuck do we get out of here?” You couldn’t keep the question internal any more, despondency starting to set in.

Despite your earlier warning to Bucky, he hadn’t been able to refrain from trying the door when you’d been sleeping. His cry of pain as the current had surged through his body had woken you, but he’d just shrugged when you’d run to his side. “I had to try,” was his response to your scolding. At least the serum meant that the burn on his hand was now mostly healed, something which you were grateful for.

Bucky placed down one of his buttons, blocking the row of three you’d been about to make with your fabric scraps. “If only there was some way for Sam and Torres to track us. Like a signal.” He pursed his lips. “They’re probably trying to search for my arm - Shuri has technology that can identify Vibranium - but if it’s not in the same place as us, or we’re too far underground for it to be detected, then it won’t work.”

“What type of signal,” you asked. “Do you mean like a radio signal? We could do that.”

“Hate to break it to you doll, but we don’t have the equipment in here.”

You gave him a scathing look. “Get me a bit of metal to act as an antenna and I am a radio. Doll…”

Bucky looked perplexed and gestured at the mist in the air. “But your powers don’t work.”

“Not true,” you replied with a shake of your head. “They don’t work fully, and it hurts like a bitch to do anything when I’m this damp, but I could send some kind of signal.”

“We’d need something that would make sense to Sam, but look random to others.”

“A short word. The letters transmitted out of order, but over and over.” A bubble of hope was forming in your chest.

“But what if he’s not looking?” There was doubt in Bucky’s eyes - a hint of vulnerability that you’d never seen before - and you reached out to cover his hand with your own.

“Buck, he’s your friend. Of course he’s looking. Torres too. And what other choice do we have? We have to try.”

Your words seemed to give him a boost, because Bucky pressed his lips together in a firm line and gave you a small nod. “So you just need a piece of metal?”

“A wire really.”

He gave you a smile then, and a theatrical wink. “Got it, doll. Leave it to me.”

For a moment you almost forgot that you hated him.

It didn’t take Bucky long to come up with a plan. In your opinion it was a stupid plan, but it was a plan nonetheless, and the only one you had.

After the next dose of the drug - after you and Bucky had done what you had to - and you’d fallen into an exhausted sleep, Bucky pulled on his Winter Soldier training and forced himself to stay awake.

Waiting.

You might not have had the energy to keep him company, but you didn’t sleep through the altercation. Well, not all of it.

Assuming that you were both asleep, two guards had come in to leave new food and replace your bucket. However, Bucky had rushed them, making it look as though he intended to make a break for the door. Despite being taken by surprise, the guards recovered quickly and retribution was swift. The pair of them used cattle prods on him, and it was his screams and the smell of burning flesh that woke you.

You couldn’t help but spring to your feet, a desperate cry leaving your throat and your meagre powers crackling painfully in your hands. You tried to shock one of them as you hung off his arm, but rubber clad as he was, your attempt had no effect. The guard pushed you to the floor and the level of water cascading from the ceiling came down heavier. You couldn’t do anything but watch as Bucky collapsed under the onslaught, helpless as his eyes rolled up into his head and he passed out from the pain.

The guards left, laughing to each other, and one even spat on him. As soon as the door clanged shut you scrambled over. There, clutched tight in his hand was the curly wire of one of their ear pieces. Just what you needed. Quickly you tucked it into one of the folds of makeshift clothes then pulled Bucky’s head into your lap, stroking his wet hair and hoping that he woke up soon.

Chapter 4

Tag list: @christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @wolfsmom1, @doasyoudesireandlive,

@sonatabee-blog, @goldylions, @galactusdevourerofworlds, @apenny4thots,

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#bucky barnes x reader #hot bucky summer 2024 #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader

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scoonsalicious · 4 months

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7.1 Major

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, discussion of feelings, nudity, mentions of some sexy stuff.

Word Count: 3.2k

Previously On...: Idk; it's been so long. Who can even remember? Just kidding-- Bucky blew off his plans for a 'friend-date' with Lily to talk to you about what happened that morning.

A/N: And we're back!

Hi, besties! I confess to not getting as much writing done as I had hoped on my break-- cursed writer's block! Then, last night, I ended up scrapping most of the writing I did do and started over, lol. However, I've got a bit of a back log again, and a four day weekend starting tonight, and now that I feel reinvigorated with the story, we'll be able to resume our regularly scheduled program!

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

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You pulled up to the destination Bucky had sent you as dusk was falling. Langston Park. A weird spot for dinner, you thought, but you’d double-checked the location with Bucky, and he’d assured you that you were in the right place.

Glancing at your map, you noticed that the pin he’d sent you was a little ways up a trail. You parked your truck and double checked your bag to make sure you had your pepper spray at the ready– not that you were afraid that Bucky was going to harm you– just that, a woman alone in the woods at dusk? You could never be too careful. It actually went against your better judgment to go in there at all, but you trusted that Bucky wouldn’t lead you into danger.

If I do come across something unexpected, you thought to yourself, please let it be the bear.

You cautiously made your way up the trail, using the nearly useless flashlight feature on your phone to keep yourself from tripping over anything. It was difficult adjusting your eyesight from the bright light of the map you were following on your phone screen to the darkness gathering around you. After you’d been walking for about fifteen or so minutes, you had to turn left to go off-trail, cutting off your access to the dwindling daylight even more. You gently pushed branches of leaves aside as you made your way through the woods, until you noticed a soft, orange glow coming from up ahead of you.

When you broke through the tree line, your breath caught in your throat. The pin Bucky had sent you had led you to a small clearing nestled along a stream, with a melodious waterfall cascading down into a pool that held a handful of floating lanterns. The entire clearing was lit with hanging lanterns that gently swayed from the branches of the surrounding trees, washing the entire space with low, warm light. Spread out on the ground was a large blanket with some throw pillows, extra blankets, and a picnic hamper. And in the center of the clearing, crouched Bucky. He’d appeared to have just finished setting up his phone to stream some soft music. The entire tableau was the most romantic thing you’d ever seen.

“Hey,” you called softly as you turned your flashlight off, dropped your phone into your bag, and made your way into the clearing.

Bucky stood and turned to face you, a wide smile spreading across his face. “Major, hi,” he breathed. “Thank you so much for coming.”

“Did you do all this for me?” you asked in awe as you looked around, taking in your surroundings. You could feel a lump form in the back of your throat, and you had to actively tell yourself not to cry. No one had ever done anything so absolutely romantic for you in your entire life. Not once had Connor ever made a fraction of the effort Bucky had made tonight.

Bucky’s face took on a look of panic. “Is it too much?” he asked, nervously glancing around as though he were trying to judge it anew through your eyes to see what you might find wrong with it.

You smiled, reaching for his hand to offer a squeeze of reassurance. “It’s lovely,” you said. “No one has ever done something so amazing for me, Bucky. Thank you.”

Bucky visibly relaxed at your words. “Figured I owed you something special, to make up for this morning.” He motioned to the blanket, guiding you to sit down with him. “I brought dinner,” he said, opening up the basket. Inside were several subs, a couple of bottles of lemonade, and a few bags of chips. “Sweet onion teriyaki chicken with cucumbers, extra pickles, and red wine vinegar,” Bucky said, handing you a sandwich. You held the sandwich to you for a moment, your chest filling with warmth at the fact that he’d remembered your offhand comment about your favorite sandwich.

You put the wrapped sub down on the blanket in front of you. “Could we talk before we eat?” you asked him. “I’ve got some things I want to clear up first.”

Bucky swallowed and nodded, putting down the sandwich he had gotten for himself and looked up at you through his lashes. “Go ahead, sugar,” he said.

You took a breath. “I get why you didn’t tell Lily about me,” you said slowly. “It’s new, and we’re not even really anything. So, what’s there to tell her, really? Plus, she and I didn’t really have the best first impressions of one another, so that part, I understand. What I don’t get is why you felt you needed to lie about being out on a date at all.” Bucky opened his mouth to say something, but you weren’t finished.

“I can’t even begin to tell you how many calls I got toward the end of my marriage that went just like the one you had with Lily last night. All the times Connor assured me he was just “out with the boys,” when, in reality, he was with his mistress. So, I guess, hearing you tell Lily you were with Sam for a ‘guys’ night’ was kind of triggering.” You sighed, heaving your shoulders. “I need to know, and I need you to be honest with me: Is there something going on between the two of you? Is that why you felt the need to lie to her about being out with me?”

Bucky shook his head vehemently and made a face of mild disgust. “Major, no– there’s never been anything between us,” he said. “I won’t lie, Lily is very important to me– as a friend– she was the first new one I made in almost eighty years, and she stuck by me when I was going through a really difficult time in my life, when I really hadn’t given her much of a reason to, but in terms of anything romantic, or sexual? Never.”

You tilted your head, considering his words. He seemed sincere, though if you had been a good judge of when a man you had feelings for was lying to your face, your marriage to Connor would probably only have been a fraction as long as it was.

“Alright,” you said, choosing in the moment to believe him, “so, if you’re as close as you say, and there’s nothing romantic between the two of you, it makes it even stranger that you lied to her about being out on a date last night.”

Bucky looked down, toying with a loose thread on the blanket you both sat on. “At the time,” he said, not looking up at you, “not telling her the truth seemed like a good idea. It didn’t really cross my mind that I was lying… more like ‘just not telling her the truth yet.’ I was really looking forward to seeing you again, doll,” he told you, his eyes now rising to meet yours, “ and telling Lil… well, it felt like I was needlessly complicating things."

You let out an exasperated sigh. “None of that explains to me the why behind it, Bucky,” you said. “Why would telling your best friend complicate things?

“I just didn’t want her getting involved in our business before the two of us even knew what our business was,” he said, as if that made everything clear.

“But, shouldn’t your best friend knowing your business be, I dunno, a good thing?” you asked him in frustration, wanting to reach out and shake him. You felt like you were going around in circles. “Shouldn’t she be happy for you?”

“Of course!” he exclaimed. “Of course she’ll be happy for me. It’s just…” He heaved a heavy sigh. “Lily’s always had… opinions about every girl I’ve ever dated, and she’s never made it a point of keeping them to herself. I mean, most of the time, she ends up being spot on, and the relationship flops, but this…” he moved to place his hand over yours where it rested on the blanket, “with you? I wanted to enjoy it before she makes those opinions known.”

You turned your hand over and squeezed his. The full truth of the situation had clicked into place for you at his words, and the realization brought both intense clarity and an all too familiar heartache. “All my life, I’ve been… impulsive,” you told him. “I jump head first into things, without thinking about the consequences. It’s how I got into the Army, ended up with Connor, hell, even how I started my business. Sometimes it works out, but…” you heaved a sigh, “usually it tends to blow up spectacularly in my face. I don’t want this to blow up in my face, Bucky.”

The confusion in Bucky’s face as he took in your words was evident. “What are you saying, doll?” he asked.

You took a moment, considering your next words carefully. “I… I really like you,” you began as a wide grin broke out across his face. “Probably more than I should for a person I just met a few days ago, but the truth of it is, I’ve seen this story play out before, and I’m not sure I could handle opening my heart to you, only to have you leave me for the best friend you swore I’d never have to worry about.”

Bucky took both your hands in his own, a look of desperation crossing his face. “Sugar,” he said, then cleared his throat. “Major. I don’t know how many other ways I can tell you that I just don’t see Lily that way,” he said. “Hell, I don’t think I’ve ever seen any dame the way I see you. You’ve got me feeling all kinds of ways I’ve never felt before.”

His words were sweet, and you felt your heart soften, but you had to remind yourself: you’d heard words just like it before. “Look,” you said, pulling your hands away from his, “maybe you don’t , but it seems pretty obvious, even as an outsider, that her feelings for you are stronger than just friendship. I don’t want to lose my heart to you if you’re going to realize that you belong with someone you’ve known for years, instead of a one-night stand that went on for too long.”

Bucky reeled back as if you’d slapped him and closed his eyes in a grimace. “That is never,” he began, a pained expression clouding his handsome face, “ever all that you could be to me, Major.” When he opened them again, his eyes were boring into yours, the blue gone cobalt in the growing night. “I’m not going to wake up one day and decide I want to be with Lily. I’ve had four years in close proximity with her for those feelings to develop, and they never have. I honestly can’t see why that would change, especially now that I’ve met you.”

God, you wanted to believe him, but you’d already played this role and it had nearly destroyed you, despite how nonchalantly you acted about it. “Does she know that, Bucky? Because, to be completely honest with you, on the night we met, both Nat and Wanda advised me not to get involved with you, because of her.”

His face blanched at the admission. “What?! Why would they say that?”

“They warned me,” you clarified, hoping that you weren’t betraying any trust with your new friends and only feeling mildly bad that you were divulging Lily’s secret, “that Lily wasn’t a ‘girl’s girl;’ she was a ‘Bucky’s girl,’ only, you didn’t know it.”

“But she–” he spluttered, “she– we– she never– she’s never said anything. She’s never acted…” He was at a loss for words, and you could tell that the information had genuinely taken him by surprise. Despite what Lily may feel for him, it didn’t seem like he ever suspected it.

“Maybe I should leave you to think that over,” you said, making motions to start standing up. “Thanks for the sandwich.” Before you could even get your legs under you, though, Bucky reached out a hand and grabbed your wrist.

“Wait!” he exclaimed, gently tugging you back down to the blanket. “Why are you leaving?”

You shrugged, confused. “I figured you’d want some time,” you told him. “Decide what you want to do about her feelings.”

Bucky looked at you like you were crazy. “Doll, in what world do any feelings Lily may have about me concern how I feel about you?”

“I just assumed…” you began, but he interrupted you.

“Assumed what? That just because she’s got a crush on me, I’m gonna ignore this thing between you and I? That I’m gonna develop feelings for her, outta nowhere, I might add, and just forget all about you?”

You shrugged your shoulders sheepishly. “Yeah, actually,” you said.

“You idiot,” Bucky said, shaking his head with a gentle smile and a soft laugh. He put a hand behind your head and pulled you forward until your foreheads were leaning together. “I sincerely mean this when I tell you I don’t give a fuck about Lily’s feelings,” he said.

You both widened your eyes at the perceived callousness of the statement.

“Fuck,” Bucky backpedaled, backing his head away from yours a little “that came out soundin’ awful, and definitely not how I meant it.” He ran a hand nervously through his hair. “Of course I care about her feelings– she’s my friend– I just mean… shit. Just, obviously, I feel bad if me not reciprocatin’ hurts her, but there’s nothin’ I can really do for it, y’know? Because it doesn’t change my feelings, and it’s not gonna change my feelings.

And shit, you believed him.

“You know what?” Bucky said, as if an idea had suddenly come to him. “Here.” He reached under the collar of his shirt and pulled out his military dog tags. Lifting them over his head, he slowly draped them around your neck.

“Bucky,” you said, fingering the embossed metal, “what…?”

“Think of it this way,” he said, “you, of all people, know what these tags mean to a soldier. Since I came outta cryo, came back to myself, not a single person has worn them, ‘cept for me. I’ve had girlfriends ask– hell, Lily’s asked– but it never felt right.” He brushed a strand of hair back from where it had fallen into your face when you’d looked down at the tags. “But with you, it feels right. So, if you’re afraid that I’m gonna up and decide that I’d rather be with Lily, or fuck, anyone else but you, I want you to look at those tags and remember that you’re the one I’m picking, Major.”

You swallowed. You did know what those tags meant. Commitment. Trust. An unbreakable bond. Wordlessly, you reached around to the back of your neck, unclasping the chain that rested against your skin.

Bucky watched your motions carefully. “Yeah,” he said, licking his lips nervously, “that was probably me moving too fast, huh? I get it– you don’t have to wear them if—”

“Shut up,” you said gently, as you removed your own dog tags from around your neck and fastened them around his. “I don’t need to wear two sets, and your neck looked so lonely without one.”

Bucky held up one of the tags so that he could examine it, and you caught the moment he registered your name and information catching the candlelight.

“Sugar,” he said, his voice cracking on the nickname.

“You’re not the only one making a choice, Bucky,” you assured him.

He leaned in closer, taking your lips with his own, the kiss filled with the fire you’d come to associate with him, and only him.

When you pulled apart, he rested his forehead against yours, and you could make out the glassy sheen of unshed tears in his eyes. “This is perfect. Thank you.”

You admired the way they hung from his neck for a moment, and were overcome with the sudden urge to touch them. You placed a hand over the dog tags, your name, now resting over his pounding heart. Bucky cupped his own hand over yours, pressing it against his chest.

“These look awfully handsome on you, Sergeant,” you told him with a soft smile. Bucky let out a low groan and you looked up at him, eyes questioning. “What is it?” you asked him.

Bucky’s face turned bashful and he shook his head. “Nuh uh,” he said. “Forget it.”

Oh, you weren’t going to have any of that. “Come on, Bucky,” you said, playfully poking him in his rock hard stomach. “You can tell me anything. I’m wearing your tags now,” you added in a singsong voice. “We’re practically going steady.”

Bucky’s gaze on you darkened, and he tugged at his lip with his teeth. “Okay then, if you’re sure you really wanna know.” You mirrored him, biting your lip and nodded eagerly. Of course you wanted to know what was going through his head to cause him to make such sexy sounds. “Just imagining what you’d look like wearing nothing but the tags, sugar,” he responded, his voice a low, husky whisper. “Bet it’d be the prettiest thing I ever saw.”

Well, if you weren’t going to take that as an invitation. Raising an eyebrow in his direction, you got up so that you were standing before him. Bucky moved forward, as if he were going to follow you up, a question ready on his lips, but you leaned down and gently pushed him back to the blanket, so he was propping himself up on his elbows.

Not once breaking eye contact, you slid your hands to the hem of your shirt, slowly dragging it up, over your head before tossing it to the side. Next, you toed off your shoes while you worked the buttons of your jean shorts, letting them slide down your thighs until you were standing in just your balconette and panties. You didn’t even care that you were in the middle of a public park and you were undressing for a man. All that mattered was that you were undressing for this man, and in the moment, you were willing to do almost anything he asked of you.

Bucky’s eyes roamed your body from head to toe and back again, but you weren’t finished. He’d said ‘nothing but the tags,’ after all. Reaching behind your back, you skillfully unhooked your bra, but didn’t pull it off, instead letting it sit on your chest while you slowly shimmined your panties down your thighs and kicking them off to join the rest of your discarded clothes. Bucky’s breath hitched as he took in your near nakedness, and you almost giggled at the visible tenting taking place in his jeans.

Clutching the bra to your chest, as if you were shy, you slowly got down on your knees and crawled up Bucky’s thighs. Finally, you let the bra fall away, and Bucky’s wide eyes never left your breasts as he licked his lips. You palmed him through the fabric of his pants.

“I believe I once said something about wanting this down my throat,” you told him with a wicked smile.

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