#they fell flat unfortunately but the desire was still there

[tracfone]

Any ship where one or more characters is an object or a robot or whatever is infinitely more interesting to me than a human/human ship, at least nowadays. Idk. I think it is nice to explore the relationships we have with the inanimate, how we express love to them and how that could be reciprocated

[xodarling]

Lady of the moon. Lady of the sea. - xodarling

includes: dom!jingliu, goddess of the moon!jingliu, goddess of the sea!reader, oral, fingering, lowercase writing, usage of y/n, ex relationships mentioned, reader can sing, pet names (dear, darling, my dearest, my lady, more prolly), established relationship, nipple play, squirting

a/n: someone play gods by newjeans

“hm.”

jingliu hums as she watches you sway from above the dark clouds in the sky. the goddess of the moon, her gaze stays on you, the goddess of the purest bodies of water; the goddess of the sea. jingliu prefers solitude, not wanting to mingle with lovers, especially not after what happened with anatole, the goddess of the sun, her past lover.

jingliu swears she can still feel the flames of her own skin heat hers up. centuries, those two were together, but they split only a few decades ago, the reason why night and day are never one. however, her preference for solitude makes an exception for you, the way your body moves like the waves of your water has her mesmerized, she could watch for hours.

she yearns to dance with you like that, if she wasn’t so awful at dancing. your siren voice snaps her out her trance, “my lady of the moon. do you not grow tired of admiring me?” the moon and sea are a lifetime apart, yet you two have grown close, have grown into lovers. you pause your dance and turn to the direction of the moon, you can’t see her but you know she’s there.

“of course not.” her deeper voice responds. your feet graze the water and manipulate the water until there’s a hill high enough for jingliu to come down. “my dearest jingliu. i beg you, come down and kiss me once more.” you stare at the moon with an expression of longing, a dark mist forms and descends down to your level, the clouds form into your lover.

“y/n.” she states, cupping your cheeks with her hands, the wetness of your skin wetting hers too, “you call, and i come.” your hands wrap around her waist and dig into her dress, “my moon, it has been too long since we last met.” you say with a tone of longing and desire, the waves below you two grows rougher and less tame as the need for her lips grows.

these days, the more times that passes where you don’t see jingliu you grow agitated, the reason why the ocean is calm at night. “i am begging you, my lady of the moon. kiss me. i need your kisses like humans need food and water, kiss me.” your desperate, wet fingers digging into her dress as the loud waves ring in your ears.

jingliu takes her time in admiring your face, she hasn’t seen you in so long because of her rest. after a moment, she gently pulls your faces together and presses her lips on yours. the aggressive waves still when you feel her lips, a hum leaving your throat out of habit, unfortunately, you both pull away from the kiss and admire each other.

“i am eternally grateful you fell for me, my dearest jingliu.” you murmur, “i love you, dearly.” you pull her body closer which makes her hum. of course you’d be grateful she chose you, especially after her former lover, what a mess of a break up, shocking that she can love again.

jingliu enjoys the feeling your damp skin on hers, she closes her eyes for a beat and then opens them and smiles when she sees your face once more. “i love you too, dear.” she murmurs, taking in your features that she slowly became obsessed with, “there’s nothing i want more than to be by your side and to call you my lover.”

the tall waved slowly descends down by your desire and flattens down with the rest of your waters. “my dearest, please, allow me to sing for you.” every time jingliu awoke once more and the moon arose, you take her to this rock in the middle of the water. flat, and perfect for her to rest her head on your lap.

“of course, my dear.” she murmurs. you take her long, elegant hand and slowly walk with her to your spot. both of you take slow and soft steps against the water, enjoying the comforting silence of the ocean and each others company. when you two make it, you gracefully sit down on your knees, looking up at her while patting your lap, “rest your head on my lap, my lady.”

jingliu follows your command, she always does, she is head over heels only for you. she lets out a sigh when her cranium hits your thighs, allowing herself to be held in the warmth of your soothing and gentle embrace. your voice vocalizing fills the silence, like a siren luring a sailor to his demise, a sound that jingliu adores.

“how long have we been apart?” she murmurs, opening her eyes to look up at you, you reciprocate her gaze with an equally as loving look. “since last night.” you giggle softly at the irony, “far too long if you ask me.” jingliu hums in agreement, “too long..” her eyes close as you being to hum and sing once more.

your fingers softly comb through her long, white hair, humming and admiring her elegant and fierce features. a few minutes of your voice and silence, jingliu swears she can rest right now and make anatole rise sooner than she wants, but your angelic voice wakes up her just a little.

“will you hold me in your heart forever?” you softly ask, looking down at her with doe eyes. jingliu opens her eyes, exposing her blood red irises and chuckles softly, cooing almost. “i will love you even if death overtakes both of us. even when we no longer exist.” she sighs and reaches her hand up to cup your cheek, “you will forever be in my heart.”

“show me.” you murmur, jingliu raises an eyebrow, “show me how much you love me, please.” your voice is brittle, shaky and weak. jingliu sits up from your lap and sits next to you, “my love,” jingliu hums, cupping your cheek with her gloved hand, “i’ll worship you like no mortal has before..” your eyes roll back and siren hum leaves your throat when she leans and gives you a passionate kiss.

it was all just a haze, your tongues dancing around each other and your hands clumsily taking off each other’s clothing. you find yourself bare to the cold night and your back laying on the flat rock, jingliu hums and ogles at your figure, one that she fell in love with instantly.

her hands run down your body, taking in every mole, scar, and the perfection that she sees. she leans down and softly wraps her lips around your nipple, and then whine you let out made jingliu feel like a sailor being hypnotized by a siren. her tongue flicks your bud around, softly sucking in between a few flicks.

“my jingliu.” you sigh, moist fingers finding home in her cloud-like hair. her eyelids close as she treats your nipple as the most precious thing her mouth has ever encountered, her tongue circling your areola and flicking the nip of it. jingliu’s rough hands remain at your waist, relaxing with the sound of the ocean and your addicting voice.

“i love you.” she whispers, releasing the nub and pressing kisses lower and lower, going down to your nether region and coming face to face with your damping vagina. “gorgeous.” she whispers, pressing a kiss onto your clit, “ethereal.” she speaks again, running a finger up and down your slit. “my dear, i beg you, don’t tease.” you pant, looking at her with eyes filled with admiration.

a husky chuckle leaves her throat, finding you’re so desperate for her adorable. “apologies, darling.” she hums, sticking her tongue out and licking your flower gently and humming at your tangy taste. the taste of your nectar was something not even the finest of meals could match, the way your taste melts onto her tongue has her yearning for more.

just by savoring the taste of your slick jingliu can already feel her core heat up and her eyes roll back to her head, “exquisite..” she mutters, “thank you for the meal, my love.” she laughs, making you pout and squirm just a bit. jingliu decides enough with the teasing, her muscle finds itself right in front of your moist slit and pushes in.

no matter how many times the two of you do this jingliu always has you seeing stars, a melodious sigh leaving your throat, and your fingers tightly take hold of her locks once more. her tongue rubs and prods at your walls while she groans at the salty but sweet flavor, your wetness grew with each move, your slick now staining her chin and lips.

“oh, my lady- my darling..” you sigh with your eyebrows tightly knit and eyelids shut. if she could, jingliu would spend millenniums in between your legs, just tasting your delicious honey; it’s hard to know if she’s doing this for you or herself. her mouth explores each inch of you despite the countless times it has, soon enough, she finds that special spot right there.

you let out a note that sends jingliu farther into trance, the tip of her tongue touching your G-spot continuously just to hear that beautiful voice that she loves. “i will never tire of this taste.” she takes her tongue out of your walls and stares at your slit with admiration, “so perfect.” she whispers.

her fingers spread your folds, blowing on your exposed genitalia and chuckling when you whine. she decides enough with the teasing, and pushes her slim digits into your desperate canal. with the many times she’s done this, her fingertips find your spot with ease, her arm beginning to flex as she presses that spot rougher each time. her eyes, however, remain on your hard clit.

your face scrunches in pleasure with your head thrown back, a beautiful angle from jingliu’s sights. the moon’s tongue flicks at your bud before encasing the thing around her lips. her eyes switch between rolling back to staring intently at your face, “i.. love youu..” you vocalize, your hands going on the back of your knees to spread legs more.

your notes grow in pitch as her movements become desperate. if jingliu was able to hear a sound for the rest of her life it would be your voice, each whimper and moan makes her heart soar and core dampen. the suction on your clitoris and the aggressive pumping of fingers in you was causing you to see stars, and not the ones already in the sky.

her digits move in ways that if a mortal sailor would cruise in on their boat, they’d flee immediately due to fear of those deadly sirens, except, sirens don’t scream the name of another god. your drenched lower body twitches in anticipation of your release, your walls clenching around her like you were trying to milk her.

jingliu is an intelligent goddess, guessing from the way your voice got louder and how the waves around you started to aggressively crash were signs that you were close. that filled the luna with even more determination, her jaw and bicep beginning to lock but her efforts do not pause.

your whines were like prayers to the lady of the moon herself, begging the goddess and your lover to give you your sweet end. but, the moon controls the sea and it is only up to her if you get that relief. in a delirious action, after you roll your eyes back, you look down at jingliu only to see her staring directly at you.

jingliu chuckles and her voice made vibrations touch your bud, which made you sing louder. after spending years bounded together, she can feel your desperation and lucky for you, jingliu wants nothing more than to see the elegant lady of the sea become a mess only for her.

she detaches her mouth and then leans up, the pace of her digits not once slowing down or even stopping. her wet lips graze your earlobe in a sensual manner and whispers with her husky and desperate voice, “sing for me, my lady.”

those words don’t even linger for a nanosecond before you erupt, the waves becoming aggressive as your shrill but hypnotizing sounds hits jingliu’s ears. her digits don’t relent as you buck and spray your sweet liquid all over jingliu’s arm and clothing, your head thrown back and your mouth stuck in an ‘O’ shape.

funny enough, your orgasm comes in waves, each tide stronger than the other and it remains that way until a few moments go by when her hands stopped because of exhaustion. your body tenses only last time before completely relaxing, alongside the waves of sea water surrounding you two. as you recompose yourself, she licks up your tangy liquid that you showered everywhere.

she chuckles and leans down to give you a peck on your head, “that was an amazing performance, my darling.” she murmurs, admiring your perfect face. you whine and teasingly smack her arm, she continues her fit of laughter and lays down next to you on the cold, hard rock. “you really deserve your title as the best performer of us all.”

“shush now.” you pout, rolling to your side and resting on top of her body. your ear resting on one of her breasts which causes you to sigh in relief. the two of you take a moment to relax in each other’s embrace, the slight sounds of water and your breathing serving as background noise. after a pause, you murmur, “do you truly love me..?”

jingliu looks down and hums, “i do. i love you.” she softly reassures, combing her fingers through her hair, “dearly?” you softly question, looking back up at her,

“dearly.”

[damianbugs]

Honestly I would love a Jason Todd comic that focused on confronting his world view, like yes it's easy to put a bullet through the head of every criminal but, the world isn't so black and white, sometimes criminals either have no choice/it goes deeper than that. Similar to how utrh questions Bruce's morality (nothing really came of it) I want a comic where Jason's world view is also questioned.

He really has a lot of potential but idk DC keeps fumbling. I'd like to know your thoughts on how you would handle a Jason storyline, I love your metas.

oh how i mourn the disappointing horror of everything under the red hood could have been... for both bruce and jason!

if i were to handle a jason comic, i would disregard everything ever written after under the red hood and related stories. as much as i enjoy jason joining the batfam and rebuilding bridges in fanon works, i much prefer jason becoming a permanent member of the gotham rouge gallery and staying batman's kind-of-enemy in canon.

what i think utrh was setting up was Jason Todd, Ultimate Foe of Bruce Wayne. jason is a incredibly smart and cunning character, who planned to the smallest detail in order to get his desired outcome. nothing he did was by accident. but more importantly, his unwavering and concrete code can only be rivalled by batman, and so, they will constantly be at odds. if utrh taught us anything, it is that jason and bruce are always going to be plagued by what they lost in each other, and as a result, will never find their way back to what they once were.

they will now forever exist as consequences of each other, no matter what.

by doing this to his story, jason finally has the chance to grow as his own character, independent from the batfam;

one of the biggest problems with how dc is handling jason is that they want him to be this angry, violent and unsociable person while also trying to convince everyone that he is not angry and not violent and very sociable with the batfam. this causes the disparity in his writing, either with inconsistencies or just downright character assassination.

if he was kept as gotham's anti-hero, then this gives him the freedom to find his own code that is no longer dependent on batman's overarching one. utrh jason kills indiscriminately because it's what solves the problem that batman's never been able to fix: crime. jason, who is young, and betrayed, and for all that he is intelligent, he is naive and claims he's the long term solution to batman's short term one. unfortunately, killing criminals to stop criminals from existing works until, like you said, comes a situation where the world isn't so black and white.

jason knows this, probably better than anyone. he comes from poverty and homelessness, lost his parents to drugs and sickness and violence. many of his stories as robin highlight how, unlike batman, jason is able to see people for who they are and not just their actions, offering a empathetic insight that batman, for all he is kind, can never truly grasp.

as red hood, i think a combination of the lazarus pit, his training, and his murderer, batman's seemingly disregard for him, how the world moves on while jason is stuck, has made him forget this kindness he had in him. that he still has. so we need a story where it is pulled out of him and he is forced to battle what he's always known.

i think this question of jason's morality was what zdarsky was TRYING to do with Cheer (Batman Urban Legends #1-#6), but it fell flat due to the terrible portrayal of Robin Jason. The story itself of jason killing someone and bruce reacting to it left a lot to be desired (as always). not to mention how out of all the criminals jason could've been shown to kill, having it be a dealer who is also an addict is rather... tone deaf on jason's own moral code. the killing was also not calculated or "for the greater good" and was instead a rage-filled thoughtless killing which, again, is a gross misunderstanding of jason's moral code and intelligence.

so we almost had it, a story where jason has to fight someone more stubborn than batman — himself. as a character in batman's rouge gallery, this horrifying realisation of who he shares that title with, the determination to be better not because of batman, but because jason himself has realised he can do more by doing less of what he's been doing.

i don't know if i would rule out jason killing people entirely, since it is such an integral deconstruction of who he was as robin and who he is now as red hood, but i would like to think he changes how he holds his weapons. less of "i kill because it's the only way to fix this" and more "i kill because sometimes it's the best thing i can do to fix this". a very subtle but still problematic change that isolates him from ever joining the batfam.

it might seem sort of cruel, that my ideal jason story makes him lonely and more of a villian, but i think that is the sort of tragic path his character is forced to adopt. he made this bed when he returned to gotham with retribution in his plans and hurt in his heart, and now he must lie in.

there is always the potential for him to be happy, to have his family and friends and be the sort of hero he was as a teenager — but to get there, it needs to get worse before it can get better. that's what dc failed with jason, skipping the internal turmoil and drama and harsh reality checks and skipping straight to the part where he has a family again.

plus, batman's rouge gallery teach lessons to batman. poison ivy, harley, two face, strange, riddler and (annoyingly) even the joker play crucial roles to who batman is as a hero and constantly force him to challenge his code.

jason teaches the biggest lesson of all — that batman is bruce wayne. he had the potential to be the driving force that changed bruce's character forever, because red hood is a reflection that batman created all on his own, not by being batman, but by being bruce wayne. and this fact would have given jason the chance to be more than just that.

[somniuslucis]

uh…

Look, all I’m saying is think about:

cowboy! art growing up amongst ranch hands and animals and being oh-so down-to-earth and self-assured.

Art grew up bull-riding on weekends and playing tennis as a pastime and fell in love with the sport so much that he kept up with it and went off to Stanford on a tennis scholarship where he met Frat Boy! Patrick.

Patrick, the tennis player, who grew up with his parents being filthy rich, and yet he has no desire for their financial support and is so sure about making a name for himself.

Patrick has always been too smug for his own good and still gets away with his crude jokes and has girls and guys chasing after him left and right. Patrick can always be found at the loud frat parties chatting up someone with a beer in hand and just being obnoxiously drunk.

Patrick, who has taken a keen interest in Art since the first day of practice because he can see just how tight Art is wound. Patrick knows just how to get under Art’s skin and pushes all the right buttons to annoy him after they get paired as doubles partners.

All their squabbling and jabs come to a head one day when Patrick happens to make a joke about Art’s grandma that hits a little too close to home and results in some bloodied knuckles and a busted lip or two.

Patrick’s laughing in his face like a douche, back flat on the earth with Art hovering over him when both boys get yelled at by their coach to go deal with their issues off the court and end up suspended from practice for a week.

Both boys somehow make the turn to friendly play and banter and suddenly it’s like they’ve known each other all their lives. Everyone’s surprised at the 180 the pair have made in their relationship, and Art and Patrick are inseparable practically from day 1 of their friendship.

Unfortunately for Art, Patrick’s proximity starts to unveil some feelings Art had originally chopped up to annoyance…like knowing just when Patrick is starting to teeter on the bad side of irritation in practice, or how Patrick’s overbearing cologne and deodorant is starting to have a soothing effect when Art’s stressed.

Even more so, Art starts to notice how hot under the collar he gets after hearing Patrick’s grunts during particularly challenging practices, how fit Patrick is in his sleeveless tennis shirts, or how he enjoys being able to smell Patrick on his clothes after Pat’s borrowed his shirt for a night out.

One day, Patrick suggests Art takes him out to a rodeo fair that’s come to town. “Come on, Art. It’ll be like a guy’s night and you can show me all the hot barrel racers! You owe me after getting you into the last house party” Patrick pleads and how can Art say no when Patrick’s making that face?

They’re having a great time watching the shows, with the occasional remark about how “dude, I’d totally let a bull rider hit” that makes heat flood Art’s face and down his chest. They take breaks in between shows to inhale fair food and beer until both are a little past buzzed.

Patrick’s using Art as a means of not eating shit face first, with an arm slung around his shoulders and tucking his face into the space of Art’s neck while trying to stay upright. Art has to excuse himself to throw their trash away (and calm himself down because he’s got Patrick fucking Zweig hanging onto him like an octopus) before coming back and guiding them both back to the car.

Art’s trying to balance Patrick’s weight in one arm, heat rising to his ears and Patrick’s breath keeps ghosting his neck, and trying to maneuver the passenger door open and suddenly Patrick’s crowding him with his back up against the car door.

Pat’s nosing up against his cheek and Art’s shaking, trying to make sense of what’s happening while his brain is short-circuiting with Pat’s thigh pressing up in between his legs.

Art keeps telling Patrick they should get home and how Patrick’s just drunk in between groans and whimpers and whines as Patrick’s leaving tiny wet kisses up his throat. He can hear Patrick groan in his ear before he says “Just trying to save a horse. Watching those riders had me thinking… you should show me how it’s done. Why don’t you give it a shot and ride me instead?”

[monstersdownthepath]

Monster Spotlight: Tekenu

CR 6

Neutral Evil Small Undead

Adventure Path: Mummy's Mask: Empty Graves, pg. 90-91

These disgusting, slithering masses of organs are created--intentionally or otherwise--during the process of mummification, when removed organs take on a fell life of their own and acquire a dark desire to add more to themselves. Unfortunate morticians who do not mummify a corpse with respect may find themselves throttled by the freshly-removed organs for the offense, while skilled necromancers utilize them as slavering tomb guardians, assassins, or garbage cans for discarded tissue... or, in a manner that's quite on the nose, as a method to sabotage the burial of someone they hate to make their journey to the afterlife more grueling. A Tekenu is hidden within a canopic jar by the necromancer and placed "respectfully" in the tomb of the hated target, and once the tomb is sealed, the hungering Undead slithers free from its jar and devours the contents of other jars while also desecrating the corpse itself for yet more, assuring that the tomb is no longer sacred or safe.

These slithering piles of organs are shockingly dangerous for their size; about as slow as one could expect at 10ft, their fel nature actually allows them to fly 30ft a round and use both Flyby Attack and Hover to harass creatures below. While 30ft isn't especially impressive, keep in mind that they typically make their homes in cramped, dark tombs, allowing them to dart in and out of the circle of the invaders' torchlight as it slowly throttles them with its nauseating attacks. Literally nauseating! Any creature struck by either of the Tekenu's two slam attacks not only takes 2d6 damage, but must succeed a DC 16 Fortitude save or be nauseated for a round, preventing them from fighting back.

And fighting back was hard enough already! You'd think a collection of vital organs would be more vulnerable to critical hits, but the Tekenu's Odd Anatomy gives it several redundant systems which prevent it from taking damage from crits or precision strikes. It's got insurmountable DR 5 and a long list of immunities and resistances thanks to its undead nature... And even more than that, Odd Anatomy also makes the Tekenu act more like a swarm than a singular creature, meaning it's completely immune to any spell or effect which targets a specific number of creatures, WITHOUT a swarm's normal weakness of taking additional AoE damage! The only AoE damage that's multiplied against a Tekenu is channeled energy, which it takes 150% damage from.

They've got quite a lot going for them defensively (aside from a mediocre 16 AC), and offensively they're a lot scarier than they look. Their dual slams dealing 4d6 damage a round plus nausea is spooky on paper, but without any flat modifier, that's still a potential of maybe 6 damage a round. Where it actually gets spooky is when a Tekenu has used Canopic Consumption on a relatively fresh body or an organ offering; they can use this full-round action on any helpless creature, any body that's less than 3 days dead, or any preserved organ. They shred through the body to consume a specific organ or collection of organs, destroying all others in the process (and thus shredding the helpless victim to death and/or the corpse past easy resurrection without giving them the normal save to avoid a coup de grace) and gaining new abilities based on which organ it claimed: The intestines, liver, lungs, or stomach.

Assimilating a coil of intestines gives the Tekenu the Grab ability with its slams, and because intestines are 30ft long, it can Grab onto a Medium-sized creature without penalty and constrict them for 2d6 damage each round they fail to escape. Taking on a set of lungs allows the Undead to exhale moisture from its body, making it appear as a desiccated pile of old viscera; it gains +8 to Stealth checks (for a total of +23) and its flight speed doubles, and it can regain its strength as a free action on its turn once it's caught someone off-guard. Slurping up a liver lets it spray victims of its slam attack with collected toxins, dealing 1d3 Constitution damage to them unless they succeed a DC 17 Fortitude save. Finally, acquiring a stomach causes its slams to deal 1d6 extra Acid damage. A 'fresh' Tekenu without any of these abilities is unheard of unless it's been created intentionally, as all of them will immediately seek out the closest source of organs to pillage them, and as such a Tekenu encountered 'in the wild' starts with 1d4 of these abilities.

Fun fact: A Tekenu with all of the abilities gains +1 CR! Because that's two slam attacks coming in on the surprise round of something with +23 to Stealth, both of which have +16 to hit and which deal 2d6 + 1d6 Acid damage each... And then both can attempt to Grab and constrict the victim, AND the victim has to make two Fortitude saves, one versus taking poison damage and one versus nausea. And if the victim drops to 0 HP, the thing can instantly kill them with no save and no way to protect the victim except by killing the Undead before its turn rolls around again. And yes, a Tekenu WILL gladly abandon its DPS race to do just that; it's got 2 Int and a hunger for organs so overwhelming that it will continue to gorge itself even after it's assimilated its full suite of abilities and no longer NEEDS to. It'll happily stop and chow on the party Wizard the DM had it ambush. That's what you get for opening canopic jars!

You can read more about them here.

[jbk405]

Despite losing my weekend and everything else, I was able to read The Reckoning of Roku over the past few days. I was a little hesitant getting into this one, because it has a different author than the previous “Chronicles of the Avatar” book and I have trouble imagining anybody living up to F.C. Yee.

It’s not bad and much better than I feared it would it be, but unfortunately its concept is better than its execution.

Two glaring problems struck me throughout its run and really “pulled me out”. The first was the political and economic terminology used throughout the book, which doesn’t fit the Avatar world and their normal manner of speaking. It’s all CORRECT, but not how they would say it. For example, Gyatso describes hired soldiers working for an evil company as “cogs in the machine” — i.e. not the people who bear ultimate responsibility — but that saying is so out of place in a world without either an industrial revolution or an economic revolution that shifted the power away from the landed nobility to corporations. In a different conversation he calls Roku’s family and the rest of the nobility “the oppressors”, and again he’s not wrong, but it’s not a criticism that makes sense in a world where feudalism is omnipresent in all nations.

I saw a great post here on tumblr a few weeks ago that I apparently didn’t reblog (At least I couldn’t find it when scrolling back through my blog) about how historical figures may have believed and argued and fought for the same things we do, but their entire language for how they ARTICULATED those thoughts was forged by the society and time and language they lived in. Kyoshi and Yangchen dealt with corruption and poverty and exploitive business practices as well, but it was presented through the lens of this world. Gyatso could have made all the same points, but in a way that made sense for his character.

The second problem for me was the idea that Sozin has always been Evil. That completely removes the tragedy of him being corrupted by power and turning on his oldest friend. The book does make it clear that Sozin views Roku as a “real” friend, so it’s not like he’s been planning to manipulate Roku since childhood. But at 16 he’s already comfortable staging a fake attack to maneuver Roku into his desired plan of action, and at the end he literally KILLS someone out of a prediction that this person may someday turn against him (He's correct in that prediction, but that's not the point).

With a controlling, domineering father on one hand, and a genuine friendship with the Avatar on the other, Sozin's character should have been "This person had the potential to be Zuko, and isn't it tragic that without an Uncle Iroh to save him he fell down the path of darkness". Instead he's already committed to self-aggrandizement, and in turn this makes Roku look like a fool for never catching on. I don't blame him for not understanding right now, he's still young and trusting, but even adult Roku never caught on to what kind of person Sozin was until he literally had already launched an invasion of the Earth Kingdom. He didn't even understand beforehand when Sozin flat-out told him what his plans were. And it's understandable if this happened gradually over the decades they spent apart, but this guy's Full Sith starting before he's 20.

It's still an overall enjoyable read, and I'll buy The Awakening of Roku when it's available, but unless this gets better on re-read it's on a lower level than the preceding books.

[ninja-muse]

February was a pretty good month! I read some books I really loved (and a couple that were simply meh), I got in a father-daughter visit and had really good luck at Scrabble, the weather was mostly not awful, and even if inventory at work took longer than expected, I survived it without brain mush, which has happened before. I am still the fastest scanner! My title holds.

Regular readers will be unsurprised to learn that Eve by Cat Bohannon and Mirrored Heavens by Rebecca Roanhorse were my top reads of the month, or that What Feasts At Night by T. Kingfisher ranks third. My T. Kingfisher problem is at least a year old, after all. (Also I read a couple delightful picture books, so be sure to click through to find them!)

I'm personally more surprised by my lowest picks, because they both sounded so up my alley but fell flat for nearly completely different reasons. The Heaven and Earth Grocery Store ended up feeling disjointed and like it was trying for a theme it couldn't quite grasp, and A Market of Dreams and Desires hit all kinds of tropes I love, right down to random Dickens references and weird steampunk machines, but tied everything together a little too neatly for me. Ah well.

And right in the middle of my list is my sole physical TBR read of the month: The Apprenticeship of Duddy Kravitz. This managed to tick off "Canadian author" and "classic" at the same time, so I get triple points. (This might have had a hand in me picking it.) Duddy has aged surprisingly well, in that it's still pretty fast-paced and amusing and also in that Richler wrote it with the understanding that scam artistry, hypermaterialism, and misogyny were bad and y'know what? They still are. I would recommend if you're looking for a Canadian teen anti-hero, more than anything. Duddy is a trainwreck and you can't look away.

I managed to get through the month with only three books hauled. (We won't talk about ARCs but the book fairies were kind.) The Unfortunate Traveller and Under a Pendulum Sun were bought during the habitual father-daughter bookstore date, and both because I never thought I'd see them and figured I might never see them again. The Unfortunate Traveller is essays and travel writing by a guy who co-wrote with Shakespeare and I didn't know it even existed. Under the Pendulum Sun was recced to me somewhere (here? bookish website algorithms?) and since it's essentially a gothic novel with properly weird fairies, it's been on my list.

The third book was a total surprise. Apparently I helped crowdfund it in 2019 and they've only just managed to get it printed and also I said I wanted a physical copy? The things we learn. Anyway, it's essays on aromanticism, agender identity, and asexuality so that tracks.

And I know I said I wasn't going to talk about ARCs but I got some good ones this last month and also in January, and there's a lot of them that are out or soon to be out and I'm having that problem where I want to be reading all of them at once. March is going to be interesting and probably a little panic-inducing.

Click through to see everything I read this month, in the rough order of how glad I was to have read them.

Eve - Cat Bohannon

A history of human evolution, through the lens of the female body.

8.5/10

warning: touches on sexism, mental illness, suicide, miscarriage, and rape

reading copy

Mirrored Heavens - Rebecca Roanhorse

The fractures following the eclipse have deepened and no one can see a way back to peace that doesn’t involve bloodshed. Out in June

8/10

Indigenous cast, 🏳️‍🌈 POV characters (bisexual, third gender), 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (third gender, sapphic), Black-Pueblo author

warning: war, torture, mentions of child abuse

reading copy

What Feasts At Night - T. Kingfisher

Alex Easton has returned to kar hunting lodge to relax. Unfortunately, the locals claim there's a monster on a property.

8/10

🏳️‍🌈 protagonist (third gender), protagonist with PTSD

Library ebook

The Twilight Queen - Jeri Westerson

Will Somers, jester to Henry VIII, is caught up in another mystery, this time of a corpse in Queen Anne’s bedchamber.

7/10

🏳️‍🌈 main character (bi), 🏳️‍🌈 secondary character (gay)

digital reading copy

The Apprenticeship of Duddy Kravitz - Mordechai Richler

A delinquent teen grows into a hustler, against the backdrop of mid-century Jewish Montreal.

7/10

largely Jewish cast, Jewish author, 🇨🇦

warning: racial slurs, misogyny

Off my TBR shelves

The Woman With No Name - Audrey Blake

Lonely and craving war work, Yvonne signs up to be the first female spy for the Allies in occupied France. Out in March

7/10

half a 🇨🇦 author

reading copy

The Frame-Up - Gwenda Bond

Ten years ago, Dani turned her art thief mom in to the Feds. Now her mom’s mentor has given Dani an offer she can’t refuse: use her magic to pull an impossible heist, get her life back.

6.5/10

Black secondary characters, 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (sapphic)

reading copy

The Heaven and Earth Grocery Store - James McBride

The Black and Jewish residents of a Pennsylvania neighbourhood are (mostly) in it together, not least of when the government decides to take a local Deaf kid to an asylum.

7/10

Jewish and Black cast, major character with chronic illness and a limp, secondary Deaf character, Black author

warning: ableist characters and institutions, racist and anti-Semitic characters, sexual assault and molestation, (largely) reclaimed slurs

library book

The Market of Dreams and Destiny - Trip Galey

Deri may have a chance to buy out his indenture early when he meets a princess looking to sell her destiny. But in the goblin’s Untermarkt, nothing’s ever easy.

6.5/10

🏳️‍🌈 main character (mlm), 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (mlm, genderfluid), British Indian secondary character, 🏳️‍🌈 author

warning: child abuse, enslavement

borrowed from work

Picture Books

No Cats in the Library - Lauren Emmons

Cats aren’t allowed in the library but that’s where all the books are!

🏳️‍🌈 author

Read at work

Family is Family - Melissa Marr

Chick gets a note before kindergarten, telling him to have his mom or dad walk him to school. Except that Chick has two moms.

🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters and themes

Read at work

Currently reading

Knife Skills for Beginners - Orlando Murrin

Paul Delamare is filling in at a cooking school when the resident celebrity chef has a, erm, "accident."

🏳️‍🌈 protagonist (gay), Black British secondary character

Reading copy

True North - Andrew J. Graff

The Brechts move to Wisconsin to restart a rafting business. They hope it’ll save their young family, but it might do the opposite.

library book

Music from the Earliest Notations to the Sixteenth Century - Richard Taruskin

A history of early written European music, in its social and political contexts.

The Penguin Complete Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle

Victorian detective stories

disabled POV character, occasional secondary Indian secondary characters

warning: racism, colonialism

Monthly total: 9 +2 Yearly total: 20 Queer books: 4 + 2 Authors of colour: 2 Books by women: 6 Authors outside the binary: 0 Canadian authors: 1.5 Classics: 1 Off the TBR shelves: 1 Books hauled: 3 ARCs acquired: 6 ARCs unhauled: 4 DNFs: 0

January

[stormears]

Makes me mad that Vash said to kid Rollo, "If God won't be there for you, I will!" which is such a ferociously strong and supportive statement...and then he didn't go back to that town to check on that kid for seemingly TWENTY YEARS.

Vash's desire to help all of humanity feels a little less noble and inspiring and humble, and more ???? when one of the examples I get to see just fell so flat. I get annoyed sometimes at Stampede Vash's really excessively forgiving, human-loving nature, my opinions probably are stale takes at this point and 80% boil down to me not vibing with a character who is Just Written That Way, and MEANT to be unrelatable...but the Rollo thing still gets me mad. He saved Jenoera Rock once by restoring their plant and that is very nice but unfortunately little Rollo fell through the cracks of his OH so busy schedule

[videcoeur]

"i want to be alone." [ from law for doflamingo + corazón law au ]

There were very few things one of his suits could do to make him angry. His tolerance threshold was a lot harder to cross for those he held in the highest esteem - The Corazon seat, especially. Despite the betrayal of his brother, Doflamingo, whenever he chose someone to sit on a decorated throne, he gave them absolute trust.

Unfortunately, there were still a few things that could trigger his ire, and one of those things was wants. As top card players, he expected them to have no other desire than to achieve Doflamingo's dreams. He put them in those seats because they were willing to die for him, and his dreams. Not because they had desires of their own - unless those desires were for him, then they were worthless.

So, to hear Law say he wants to be alone? Is just not something that sits well with him. What about HIS wants? What if Doflamingo wanted to spend some time with the Heart? Maybe he was in a sour mood, maybe on another day he would have let this fly, but there was just something so demanding and authoritative in Law's request. He wasn't asking. He was ORDERING Doflamingo to leave him alone. And you know, giving him order was just not something that pleased him much.

"So?" His voice fell flat and cold, and if Law could see his eyes, he would notice how glacial his gaze was as well.

"Is something wrong?" One could almost mistake this as him caring- but it isn't. He wants to know why Law is defiant. Why he dares impose his wims upon his master. It wasn't caring, it was just another way to remind Law of his place. Beneath him.

[whimsicaldragonette]

ARC Review: Mortal Follies by Alexis Hall

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Publication Date: June 6, 2023

Synopsis:

A young noblewoman must pair up with a rumoured witch to ward off a curse. It is the year 1814 and life for a young lady of good breeding has many difficulties. There are balls to attend, fashions to follow, marriages to consider and, of course, the tiny complication of existing in a world swarming with fairy spirits, interfering deities, and actual straight-up sorcerers. Miss Maelys Mitchelmore finds her entry into high society hindered by an irritating curse. It begins innocuously enough with her dress slowly unmaking itself over the course of an evening at a high-profile ball, a scandal she narrowly manages to escape. However, as the curse progresses to more fatal proportions, Miss Mitchelmore must seek out aid, even if it means mixing with undesirable company. And there are few less desirable than Lady Georgianna Landrake—a brooding, alluring young woman sardonically nicknamed “the Duke of Annadale”—who may or may not have murdered her own father and brothers to inherit their fortune. If one is to believe the gossip, she might be some kind of malign enchantress. Then again, a malign enchantress might be exactly what Miss Mitchelmore needs. With the Duke’s help, Miss Mitchelmore delves into a world of angry gods and vindictive magic, keen to unmask the perpetrator of these otherworldly attacks. But Miss Mitchelmore’s reputation is not the only thing at risk in spending time with her new ally. For the rumoured witch has her own secrets that may prove dangerous to Miss Mitchelmore’s heart—not to mention her life.

My Rating:★★★

*My Review and Favorite Quotes below the cut.

My Review:

It pains me to give this three stars because I generally adore Alexis Hall's' books and can almost guarantee them to be 5-star reads. But this one fell flat. It suffered from a few problems that killed it for me. I liked the choice to have a capricious Puck narrate a story about a human cast of characters. It was at times amusing, but unfortunately it created so much distance between me and the characters that I felt like I didn't know them at all. It didn't help that the characters were dry, bland, and flat. Miss Bickle was occasionally amusing but in a distant, faint way. Another obstacle was the overly formal tone of the characters conversation and manner, which kept me even further from knowing the characters. Since I am, first and foremost, a character-driven reader, this feeling of being so far removed from the characters that I was watching them from about a mile away didn't give me the enjoyment I usually get from Alexis Hall's books. It was also incredibly awkward to have Puck narrating the sex scenes. I mean, I don't usually enjoy sex scenes anyway, but having everything filtered through Puck's gaze and narration felt weirdly intrusive. It also seriously dragged in the middle. I felt like I was reading it for weeks without getting anywhere, and it almost put me into a reading slump. There were some interesting bits and I did enjoy it enough to finish it, but not enough to really love it, no matter how much I wanted to or how beautiful the cover is. *Thanks to NetGalley and Del Rey for providing an early copy for review.

Favorite Quotes:

The works of my people have a wholly undeserved reputation for coming apart unexpectedly or transforming into leaves and cobwebs at the slightest provocation. In fact, such disasters tend to require considerable provocation. The problem is that mortals are exceedingly provoking.

---

And then Mr. Caesar, to my disappointment, left the house of dissolute gentlemen and, like the tiresome mortal that he was, went home. In punishment, I hid one of his shoes.

---

“It is vexing isn’t it?” Miss Mitchelmore’s tone acquired a musing edge. “If one is poor, one must marry a rich man in order that one might be provided for, and if one is wealthy one must marry a still richer man in order that one not spend the rest of one’s days providing for him.”

---

It was possible, of course, that Mr. Clitherowe had taken the opportunity to direct some hex against her during their brief conversation, but unless “what an unusual hat” was an incantation of ancient and unknowable power, it seemed improbable.

[childofaura]

IMO, I really felt that Engage kinda botched up the execution of having all 4 Lords present and alive without one going through a split route, Revelations not counting since it’s the golden route locked behind DLC paywall.

Don’t get me wrong, I like all 4 Lords well and alive ala Revealation but something tells me the way the Elyos Lords are presented leaves a lot to desire (despite me liking all 4 of them)

See, part of me feels like that’s a pretty spot-on explanation for why they fell flat. I don’t necessarily want Engage to be ANOTHER split route (because goodness knows the fandom cannot handle respecting other people for choosing routes worth a damn), but it definitely made character development more focused. Additionally, I wanted to mention it last night but I realized Fodlan worked so well because in most cutscenes, you saw EVERYONE from your focus house discussing what was going on. Even if it was just everyone standing together in a group, everyone gave their input on whatever chapter matter was coming up.

BUT, on the other hand… I think back to Awakening, which had the closest thing to equal portrayals of leader characters that Engage needed. Chrom, Say’ri, Lucina, the Khans… all of them were on a single story path but had consistent and equal character portrayals. You still saw Basilio and Flavia and Say’ri’s personalities, even though the focus was on Chrom and the nation of Ylisse.

Unfortunately, without observing the writing process ourselves or finding some game dev interviews, we’ll never know.

[weepingvoidpenguin]

One of Your Favorites

Jealous Bucky x Reader

Summary: You have an objective. Get Rumlow to confess. Simple enough, right? No. Aside from his usual condescending attitude towards you, Bucky has made it extremely apparent that he doesn’t think you’re capable of - well, anything, but especially not handling Rumlow. And yet, he is the biggest challenge of this entire ordeal.

Warning: T R I G G E R WARNING!! ATTEMPTED SA, DRUGS, language, light smut. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DO NOT READ IF SA WILL TRIGGER YOU. 

Word Count: 8.3k

   “We have good intel stating he’s working as a double agent for HYDRA. Selling information, exploiting tactics, even going so far as to tell them where we’ll be and when.” Natasha scanned the room, making sure she had everyone’s attention during the briefing. 

   You slouched back in your swivel chair and twisted to-and-fro slightly with your hands gripping the arm rests on either side. It took all of your willpower to act engrossed in her words. And you meant every single drop. You’d been paying attention, sure, but the only issue was the dominating presence two seats to your right and directly in your line of sight to Natasha. You rolled your chair to the left to clear the path for the third time, only for him to block your way without missing a beat. The growl that left your mouth was nearly involuntary. Nearly.

   How long would this man act like a child? Despite his graceful and seemingly unsuspecting movements, you were fully aware his placement was intentional. This was not the first, nor did you doubt that it would be the last, time that Bucky acted impudently toward you. Frankly, you’d grown bored of his behavior. It was the same thing everyday. He would act a nuisance during the briefings, speak over you whenever he had the chance, steal the limelight from you and invalidate any concerns or thoughts you shared. The whole charade grew tiring and he had been dancing on thin ice for months now.

   You averted your gaze from burning holes through the freshly washed, brown locks and switched your attention back up to the redhead. Thankfully, too, because you managed to catch the end of her sentence just as she locked eyes with you.

   “And that’s why Y/N is going to be the one to extract the information from him,” she finished.

   You blinked, “Wait, what?” 

   Bucky straightened his posture and threw a quick glance your way, “Yeah, what? She’s got no heat, couldn’t toast marshmallows if we gave her all day. She shouldn’t lead this, she wouldn’t know how,”

   “Well, tonight might be a good time to start learning, then,” Steve chimed in, throwing a wink your way. You smiled and appreciated his aid, not because you needed it but because at this point, you were seething and if you opened your mouth to defend yourself this meeting would go south, quickly. Luckily, Steve always believed you were capable of a great deal of things and knew you strove for more experience so any opportunity to lead or expand was one he thought you should take. 

   “Besides,” Tony spoke up, twirling a platinum pen between his fingers from across the table, “our little double-agent has always had the hots for Y/N so unless you’re gonna be the one to bat your eyelashes at him and get him alone in a room, Mr. Barnes, we have to use his own flaws against him.” He turned to face you and held up a hand, “Not to say that liking you is a flaw, you’re great Hot-Stuff but exploiting him is our best option indefinitely,”

   “Do I have to seduce him?” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest and raising a brow towards Nat, trying your damned hardest to avoid the unmistakable glare the brown-haired super soldier was sending your way. 

   “The only thing you have to do is extract any information on him that you can. Get him a little drunk, catch him in a slip-up or two, take note of any inconsistent stories and be on your merry way,” she reassured, “How you manage to do that is up to you,”

   “Ooh, extortion,” Clint chirped up from the far back corner, his hands rubbing together maliciously around an arrow he pulled from his sheathe, something you noticed he did a lot when he was uninterested; be it a person, mission, or conversation.

   “No. Not extortion,” Steve shut it down and you chuckled at how Clint’s countenance fell into one of disappointment. 

   “Not yet anyway,” Natasha mumbled and you sighed as she walked around the room and handed each of you a folder with your individual objectives inside.

   “But he’s such a pervert,” you grumbled.

   “All the easier,” 

~

   The rest of the day was drudged with Nat while she taught the pertinence of body language (both yours and theirs), verbal ruses, and overall ensnarement. You bat your eyelashes until you were certain you would catch enough wind to fly away, smirked enough that your cheeks began to ache and raised your eyebrows ‘til you felt the impending wrinkles on your forehead. By the end of the drill you weren’t sure you were even going to make it to the company party from the migraine creeping its way on.

   “How’s the bait coming along?” His voice alone caused you to roll your eyes but you paid no mind while you rubbed at your temples and stood up alongside Natasha.

   “She’s not gonna be able to lie to me any time soon but she can flirt her way to whatever she wants,”

   “Benefits of targeting a narcissistic misogynist, they don’t think anyone can fool them.” Tony belted as he sauntered into the room with strawberries, offering them out to you while he munched on one.

   “She’ll still mess it up,” Bucky countered, “Make someone else do it,”

   You plucked the fruit off Tony’s tray and examined it, trying to figure out whether you were going to consume it or use it as a weapon.

   “I really appreciate your words of encouragement, James. Unfortunately, they’re not wanted, nor are they needed.” You bit into the fruit and glided towards the door, looking over your shoulder at the super soldier, “So unless you actually have something to contribute, I suggest you stay the hell out of my way while I get the job done,”

   Nat walked out behind you and handed you a tiny, skin-colored device meant to conceal itself and you placed it in your ear. 

   “The conversation is gonna be recorded so we can catch any inconsistencies. We’ll all be able to hear what you’re saying so tread on delicate waters but don’t be afraid to shake mountains if you have to,”

   You nodded and opened your door for her to enter your room knowing she’d want to help you get ready for the event. Natasha, shocking as it turns out, enjoys company while preparing for events. She would much prefer to be surrounded by people than be alone. You never had gall to ask her why that is. Or maybe you respected her too much to ask.

   An hour had passed, maybe two, but you enjoyed the silence between you both. There was no need to fill the empty quiet when it was so comfortable and welcoming. You two spoke without words at times and that was probably your favorite personal skill. Eventually, there came a knock on your door and you opened to find Wanda with her flat iron and make-up bag in tow. It’d long since been decided that your room was the gathering center.

   Wanda helped you finish touching up your outfit and you waited on your bed while they finished getting ready. Nat occasionally quizzed you on certain situations and how you should act depending on the tones and moods of the conversation. You tried to explain that you didn’t have difficulty reading a room but Nat tested you all the same. 

   “And if he puts his hand on your thigh?” She called out from your bathroom.

   “Then he loses it,” you practically sang in response.

   You were met with a flying hairbrush and laughed at the onslaught.

   “You’re not the only one with that mentality,” Wanda called out as well, her iron glossing over thin strands of hair.

   “Nat knows I can handle myself.” You sat up on the bed and went over to your closet to collect your favorite pair of shoes to go along with the formal attire Nat selected for tonight. “What a coincidence that we happen to have a company party the same night we have to extract information,” you hollered over your shoulder, moving aside terribly worn shoes while you scoured for the pair you had in mind.

   “This objective has been in the works for weeks now,” Nat released the tendril of hair from around the barrel and pinned it to her head so it could cool.

   “Wow, thanks for the heads up, then.” You gripped the desired pair and placed them beside your nightstand for later.

   “The plan wasn’t solid until we knew for a fact that Rumlow was coming. It’s a company party so it’s not mandatory but once he heard you were making an appearance, it didn’t take very much persuading,”

   You rolled your eyes and plopped back down on your mattress, “He’s so annoying, I doubt I can hold much of a conversation with him,”

   “Take a shot or two to ease your nerves, if he sees you drinking it’ll put him at ease too. He’ll be more inclined to drink,” Natasha recommended. “But don’t act too out of character. If you were always curt and short with him and suddenly you start acting over-friendly, he may get suspicious. He’s an idiot but he’s a paranoid one,”

   You nodded, taking a mental note to have a half-empty bottle in your grasp when Rumlow arrives. If he thinks you’ve already been drinking, he might also consider catching up. 

   “Y/N? Not uptight for once?” Wanda sarcastically questioned. “I can’t picture it,”

   “Oh, fuck off,” you grumbled and in turn received laughter from the two girls. “Besides, of all of us I’m by far the least uptight. Barnes takes the cake for that one,”

   There was a beat of silence that you didn’t register before you were met with a response.

   “Ya know, he’s not as bad as you paint him out to be.” Nat unpinned the curl from her head and moved on to the next section, “He’s got some serious loyalty and always willing to volunteer first for everything,”

   You lifted your head to stare at her reflection through the mirror, “What are you talking about? He’s annoying and irate and lacks a filter,”

   “Mmm, irate isn’t the word I would use,” Wanda countered, looking over to Natasha.

   Nat shook her head in response, “I’d lean more towards . . . over-protective,” 

  “Much better,” Wanda agreed.

   You squinted your eyes at their image and felt the corners of your lips turn downwards, “Over-protective? Since when are you two defending Barnes?”

   “We’re not defending him, per say.” Wanda glanced over to Nat, “We’re just trying to give you a fresh perspective,” 

   “You could give me a brand new pair of eyes and I’d still see him the same,” you retorted, now leaning on your elbows due to the strain on your neck. 

   They ignored the comment, “And he’s only annoying to you,”

   “You’re telling me he doesn’t annoy you at all?” You asked, an eyebrow raised.

   “More like . . . he doesn’t go out of his way to mess with us.” Nat applied a nude color onto her lips.

   “So you agree that he goes out of his way to irritate me,” you stated rather than asked.

   “That’s been made very apparent,” Wanda responded. “But you have to wonder why,”

   You huffed a little and sprawled back out on the bed just to result in staring at the ceiling above. If you looked hard enough your mind would create pictures from the chaos of the cracks and shapes began to form. Sometimes, when the night lay still and life seemed to dwindle at the edges of your reality, you could swear a familiar face fashioned together and your imagination ran wild with the images you’d see. Some that brought a warmth to your cheeks even now. 

   You shot up out of bed and shook the memories from your vision. Ugh. He haunts you even when he’s not actively tormenting you. How he’s managed to crawl his way so deeply within your skin you had no idea but you fought for control of your thoughts whenever you caught them slipping into that hellhole.

   “Or slipping into euphoria,” Wanda chimed in.

   “Wanda!” You scolded, crossing your arms, “Euphoria my ass,”

   “Yeah, he thinks so too,” she continued and you chucked the abandoned hairbrush back their way. 

   “Stay out of my head,” you jokingly sniped at her but was met with a low chuckle.

   “I didn’t even have to be in your head to know what you were thinking of,” Nat defended and caught your weapon of choice.

   “Are you guys done yet?” You rolled your eyes and stretched yourself out before swiping up the pair of heels you’d chosen and sliding them onto your feet.

   “Why? Are you in a hurry to see a certain someone?” Natasha teased and Wanda let out an eruption of laughter.

   “All right, I’m done.” You made a beeline for the door and threw it open, “Lock up when you’re finished!” You bellowed over your shoulder and made your way to the top floor of the building where all the parties are typically held.

   You didn’t run into anyone on the way up and you used that time to calm yourself, prying inch by inch away from the invasive thoughts that called for you in the darkest hours of the night. But, then again, maybe those tormenting thoughts weren’t that bad? You mean, he certainly IS handsome, very much so actually. And he has the most knee-wobbling smirk you’d ever come to know, not to mention those little tricks he does with his knives always manage to entrance you. God, did he know how to use a knife. 

   On more than one occasion had you caught yourself staring at how his hands encapsulated the hilt of the blade. How they clenched and relaxed, drawing out some of the more prominent veins on one of the extremities; of course, you were even more so enticed by the hand he hid as well. You’d imagined what it felt like to have such strong hands grip onto your thighs and coax you into spreading them open with just a few teasing touches here and there. You couldn’t fathom the front you’d put up would last very long, he was stellar at pulling reactions from you. He’d see you break under his caresses and he’d degrade you like he always did but this time it’d emit a different response from you, one that made you whimper and shake. At that, he’d probably call you a good girl, he definitely seems the type to switch between degradation and praise, and would press his mouth up just where you wanted it the most. You’d try your hardest to be quiet but damn the way that tongue moved against you and the way he’d pull you harder against his face at each sound of pleasure you let slip past your lips. He’d enjoy it, too. Eyes closed as he devours you, he likes to put on a show for you to watch. Give you a memory that’ll slick your thighs later that night if he hadn’t fucked you into a coma by then. He’d make you watch him and if you dared to close your eyes you’d earn a firm, cold smack on your ass. He knows you like when he uses temperature play. He growls a little too, he can’t help his innate behavior. Then, just as the accumulation is coming to its apex he’d pull away abruptly and kiss you straight on your mouth so you can taste yourself and that’d earn him another whimper which would result in another smack that leads to that cold metal trailing its way to your core and just as he pushes the tip of his finger inside-

   You cough and straighten your posture as the elevator door opens. When had you leaned up against the back wall of the elevator? Oh Gods, you could feel the slick at the apex of your thighs and you squeezed them together as inconspicuously as you could in fear that you were producing a . . . scent that would be rather difficult to conceal. But the slick only grew worse when you locked eyes with the person stepping into the elevator.

   Fuck.

   “That’s what you chose to wear?” He asked, a certain venom in his tone that immediately calmed the ache in your heat.

   “And what would you have me wear instead, Barnes?” You quipped back, your body facing forward as he took his place beside you in the cramped space.

   There was a beat of silence. Then another. “Not that,” he responded.

   “Well I’ll make sure to ask you next time since you have such impeccable taste,” you retorted, your eyes yet to abandon the sight of the closing doors.

   You weren’t sure of all the effects of the Super Soldier Serum that had been injected into Bucky and all that it heightened but you prayed to any God that would listen that his hearing wasn’t one of those things. You were too preoccupied with attempting to settle the hot pulse beating between your legs to worry about how loud your discomfort came across.

   “What do you look so nervous about?” Bucky’s gruff voice prodded. “You can’t possibly be nervous about the mission considering how big-headed you are,”

   You took a deep, long breath and held it to soothe you. Had you not been so previously preoccupied, you’d have given him hell for the insult. “I’m not nervous about that,” you sniped and rested back against the cool wall to satiate your burning skin before lifting your gaze to him only to find him already examining you.

   “Of course not, I just said that,” he retorted, bringing a gloved hand to his face to rub along his jaw, “there’s obviously nothing for you to worry about,”

   You scoffed, “And why is that, Barnes?” Cue the dramatic crossing of your arms. 

   “You’re smarter than Rumlow and significantly better trained. Overall, he really doesn’t hold a candle to your ability,” He paused for a second, his whole frame tensing until he remembered to relax, “But that’s not really saying much considering it’s Rumlow,” 

   You hadn’t noticed you raised your eyebrows until you felt your face fall, “Ah, there he is. You had me worried there for a second, Barnes. Thought you might actually try something new and display common decency for once,”

   A corner of his mouth turned up subtly and he shook his head. You trailed your gaze down to his hidden hand and stared long enough to burn a hole through the fabric.

   “If something’s bothering you, Dollface, go ahead and speak up,” 

   You weren’t sure what possessed you to say anything, especially knowing how touchy the subject was for him but the words left your mouth anyway, “I don’t know why you insist on hiding yourself,”

   He lurched his head back, your statement seeming to have a physical affect on the man and you mentally slapped yourself for saying anything.

   “I’m not hiding myself,”

   “But you are,” you interrupted, your thoughts coming out in pools of candor, “you aren’t your hand. You aren’t your past. You are you. Presently. You’re not the Winter Soldier anymore. That’s not even the same hand you had back then. It’s not tainted and neither are you. I say drop the gloves,”

   “And why would I care about what you say?” He growled, his eyebrows furrowed together and his neck tight in potential restraint.

   The elevator dinged and you looked towards the opening doors, “You don’t have to but they don’t look right with your suit either.” You walked through the exit and sauntered over to the others who had already gotten the party started, leaving Bucky dumb-founded behind you. “I need a shot,”

   “Already ready,” Tony quipped up, holding the small glass in the air for everyone to behold before bringing his cheek to yours in mock welcoming, “This’ll up your tolerance for the next hour, try to get all your drinking done within that time-frame,”

   You pulled away with a warm smile after faux kissing his cheek, “Finally!” you displayed and threw the liquid back in one swift motion, your face scrunching together against your will.

   “Yeah, she’s got a kick to her,” he mumbled and handed you a fruity drink to chase it down with. 

   You went around and said hi to everyone as you recognized most of those present. You made small chatter with those lesser known and drank the liquid in your hand significantly quicker than you’d like to. You excused yourself after you finished the drink and walked over to the bar, scanning the room as you were handed another glass. No Rumlow in sight.

   You headed towards the foosball table and gripped the handles after setting the beverage down on the counter beside you. You flinched as a reflection of light caught your eye and at first you thought your glass was the source. Until your eyes fixated on the reflection’s actual origin. To your far right, and up a few steps you found Bucky conversing with Steve, a dull light emitting from his hand. Not a glove in sight.

   “So, where’s your boyfriend?” Sam inquired when he filled the opposing spot.

   You rolled your eyes, “Bucky’s not my boyfriend,”

   “Bucky?” Sam’s tone chirped up teasingly, a knowing look wearing on his face.

   Your grip tightened around the handles and you slowly pulled away to throw the little white ball through the circle, your hands immediately twisting the miniscule players around. Your eyes shot back and forth, your sight never leaving the darting sphere. Sam still managed to win the first point.

   “Ha!” He shouted in triumph, bringing his finger up as if to scold you, “Don’t think you got away with that comment either, Y/N,”

   “What comment?” you questioned and gulped most of your drink before slamming it back down on the table.

   You heard your earpiece come to life with quiet static and you tried to keep your face masked. Rumlow had entered. Not a surprise either, the party was finally starting to pick up now.

   Sam threw the ball in and you turned the players meticulously this time, brute strength hadn’t helped you earlier so maybe you should take it slow. Steve made his way over to the table and threw his drink back, the liquid trickling down the side of his face before he wiped it away. Sam won the second point.

   “I play winner,” Tony chimed, standing beside Steve.

   You made a point to catch up and now you two were tied at three each. 

   “Best out of five?” You proposed, quirking an eyebrow at Sam.

   “If you didn’t want to play anymore you could’ve just said that,” he teased and you smirked at him as Tony made a subtle show of handing you another drink and you finished your second. “Loser takes two shots?”

   “Deal.” You nodded, knowing you didn’t have much of a choice as a small crowd began to form around you two. Rumlow amongst them. 

   Your jaw dropped when Sam shot the ball directly into your goal as soon as he’d let the ball go.

   “What the fuck?” You shouted, “No fair! That doesn’t count!”

   Thor erupted in laughter to your right and you blinked slowly, staring at the gargantuan man. 

   “It most certainly does,” Sam shouted back, his grin practically touching his ears.

   “Sam, take it easy on her,” Bucky muttered from beside him, quickly averting his gaze from yours and his expression loosened, “The brat hates losing,”

   “Brat?” You snarled.

   Bucky took a swig of his beer, watching you the entire time and you reeled back the fire beginning to form in your chest just to bring your drink up to your lips and chug the entire thing down. You handed it over to Tony who left to replace it. 

   “Last point,” Sam stated, “It’s not too late to quit now,”

   You shook your head and blinked away the feign distortion you were supposed to have. “Just play the ball,”

   “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he teased and threw the ball in. 

   You wanted to win. Desperately. But you had a character to play tonight and she was supposed to be drunk. So you hit your hand against the corner of the table just as Sam happened to make the winning point. You grumbled and threw him a glare when Tony broke through the crowd.

   “Coming through,” he shouted, handing two small glasses to you while you gripped your knuckles in pain. “Noooo, you’re not getting out of taking these. C’mon, take your punishment,”

   “Yes, Daddy,” you grumbled and cringed at your own words when the realization hit you. Whatever. You were supposed to be drunk, anyway. 

   “Daddy?” Tony quipped and pulled the drinks back towards himself, “Maybe you should be cut off,”

   “What?” You argued, leaning slightly on the table with your hand and snatching the drinks from Tony’s hold, effectively spilling some on yourself. “See?” You lifted up the half empty shot glass, “This barely counts as a shot,”

   “I’ll get her a new one,” Rumlow offered and disappeared before anyone could argue. 

   “She really doesn’t need another-” Bucky tried to interject and take the shots from you but you twisted around and chugged down the one full glass.

   Water.

   You looked up at Tony and his smirk was barely noticeable. But you could tell. Bucky nearly ripped the other drink from you but Tony blocked his path and you exaggerated your next drink as Rumlow broke back into the crowd, shot in tow.

   “Here.” Rumlow’s calloused hand held the drink up above you and you stared at him with a questioning look. “Open,” he ordered and the fire burning in your chest fought to destroy everything in its vicinity. You bit your lip in refrain but tossed your head back and opened your mouth.

   Static broke over your earpiece. Don’t drink that! Wanda’s voice erupted.

   Your eyes widened as the liquid made its way down but you coughed hard to stop whatever you could. 

   Why? Steve’s voice came through right after.

   You choked on the liquid and shut your eyes at the way it burned its way down. You reached your hand out to grab someone’s drink to ease the burning and grasped a tall glass and tossed it back. The burning didn’t ease up and you felt a hand rest on your back.

   “Are you okay?” Rumlow’s voice rang out and your skin nearly recoiled from the contact, “How about we get you some water?”

   You looked up at him when the burning subsided minimally and nodded your head, letting him lead the way to the bar. He parted the crowd and someone took step right behind you to follow when the presence suddenly died out abruptly. You turned around to check who it had been and found no one.

   Why? Steve asked again.

   Where’s Wanda? Bruce broke through.

   You lifted your head and flitted your gaze around the room until you found the familiar Sokovian on the couch, laying down with her eyes closed. You pulled away from Rumlow but his grip on your hand tightened and his steps grew in haste. You whirled your head to yell at him but the way the room swayed with the movement cause you to shut your mouth in surprise. 

   Didn’t Tony say you would have a higher tolerance?

   “Couch...” you muttered, pointing over your shoulder just in case your target was curious enough to ask but the message was delivered.

   Rumlow hoisted you up onto the bar stool and stood on your open side, using his body to keep you from falling over. Or to cage you in.

   “I don’t feel good,” You rested an elbow on the countertop and held your head up.

   “I can’t imagine you would. You’ve been chugging those drinks like they’re water.” Despite that, Rumlow motioned to the bartender and asked for two more.

   You giggled and your head lulled forward with the action. You let Rumlow catch you from tumbling over. Why did your body feel so heavy? Not to mention the way everything around you dazed about. You couldn’t catch a single action, let alone attempt to read Rumlow’s body language. But you did happen to notice the way his eyes searched the room before coming back to you.

   “You okay?” You rested your forearm against his chest and pushed slightly to allow yourself a better view of his face.

   A small smirk, “Am I okay? What about you?”

   You smacked your lips and brought the ice cold glass to your lips. That’s not water. “I’m doing reeaalllyy good,” you drawled.

   Rumlow chuckled and pushed you deeper into the chair, “I can tell.” He took a sip, his attention never faltering from your body, “Just be sure to pace yourself from here on out,”

   You made a show of cocking your head to the side and letting a smile sprawl onto your face as you studied him. 

   “What?” he questioned, a curious lift in his brow.

   You shook your head gently and kept your gaze on him over the brim of your glass, “You’re just . . . not what I was expecting,”

   “And what were you expecting?” 

   Don’t forget to bat your eyelashes. “Worse,”

   “Sorry to disappoint,” he jeered, his attention once again cast throughout the room before centering back on you.

   You followed his action but quickly came to the conclusion that moving any pace faster than a sloth was going to make you nauseous and you could barely keep a thought together. Your stomach began to rise in your chest and the fear seized your throat shut. Why couldn’t you hold onto a thought for longer than a second? It was like you were aware of your lack of consciousness but could do nothing about it because any thought or bout of panic phased through just as soon as it arrived.

   “What are you so tense for, Rumlow? You know you’re not currently on the clock, right?” You teased, your head leaning on your shoulder as you spoke.

   He brought his drink up to his lips and finished it off in three gulps, “I’m not tense. It’s just hard to turn it off sometimes,”

   You nodded slowly and pushed your drink towards him, “Relax. You know everyone here,”

   He shook his head and placed your drink back in front of you before asking for another beer.

   “And two shots!” You shouted to the bartender, throwing two of your fingers high up and instantly regretting how fast you’d done it.

   “Are you trying to get me drunk?” He asked you, a side smirk beginning to form.

   You placed your finger over your lips and hushed, “Shh, I won’t tell if you don’t.” You dragged your lower lip down and his eyes fixated to commit the scene to memory. “Besides, I always feel dumb if I’m the only one drunk,”

   He motioned to the rest of the party, “Believe me, Sugar, you’re not the only one enjoying yourself,”

   “But are you?” 

   “Am I what?” 

   “Enjoying yourself?” 

   Your skin crawled when he placed his rough hand on your barren thigh, “Absolutely,”

   Don’t forget what you’re here for. Don’t let the objective slip. Gods, how the fuck were you supposed to retain anything when you were so sleepy? And why was it so warm?

   “Hot,” you mumbled, fishing around in your glass for an ice cube to rub on your face.

   “Thank you,”

   You threw your head back in laughter and nearly earned yourself an up-close and personal view of the floor had Rumlow not wrapped an arm around your waist and held you steady. Once he was certain you weren’t going to toss yourself onto the ground, he parted your legs and stood between them to keep you rooted to your seat.

   All the movement had you spinning and you white-knuckled Rumlow’s cotton shirt to keep yourself grounded to something, anything. Red warning lights were firing up in your chest and you tensed with the way your body buckled to the panic coursing through you. Your heart pounded in your ears and danced across your skin, lighting it on fire and making the room too stuffy to bear. Please, no. Not now. Focus. Snap out of it. Come back, stay back. Your breathing hitched and you looked down at the sensation crawling its way up higher on your thigh. Too hot. Everything was too hot, if you didn’t get out of this now you would never-

   “Vision!” You cheered, happy to see your friend.

   The presence on your thigh recoiled slightly.

   “I’m taking Wanda to her room, seems she’s had a bit too much to drink,” Vision informed and you’d only just then noticed the body in his hold.

   “Wanda!” You smiled, admiring her peaceful features as she slept in his arms. You poked at her cheek then jerked your gaze back up to Vision. “What? Wanda doesn’t drink,”

   She’s not acting, Sam’s voice erupted in your ear and you flinched at the sound. 

   Vision’s eyes went from you to Rumlow then back to you slowly, “Y/N . . . are you okay?”

   You beamed at him and slowly brought up your thumb. “Good,” you responded.

   You followed Vision’s gaze back up to Rumlow and smiled at the agent beside you. You guess he’s kind of cute. In a strange, unsettling way.

   “She’s had a lot to drink, so we’re just trying to slow down the pace. Aren’t we, Y/N?” Rumlow looked down at you.

   You nodded fervently, “Yup!” 

   Vision hesitated but knew he didn’t pose much of a threat with Wanda in his arms unconscious, so he quirked a smile and walked towards the hall.

   Someone get to Y/N, something’s not right, Vision ordered and you lifted your head up to find him. You could have sworn he just left.

   “Here.” Rumlow handed you a glass, “Drink this, it’ll cool you down,” 

   You stared at the glass in his hold and looked up at him, “You drink it first,” you slurred, holding your finger up at him.

   He cocked his head to the side but took a swig of the drink and you watched it go down his throat. You shrugged and grabbed at it.

   Do not drink that, Nat ordered from somewhere and you looked around in wonder at who she was yelling to.

   Bucky, Sit down! Steve growled.

   Like hell, responded a voice you knew all too well.

   Your smile grew and you looked through the crowd, “Bucky!” You feverishly called, completely expecting to see him before you. Rumlow’s head lifted instantly, his eyes scouring the area.

   “I’ve got this, Pretty Boy,” Tony hastily spoke, “How ya doin’, Hot Stuff?” He interrogated and you reeled at the tone.

   “Quite well, thank you,” you responded tenaciously and attempted to take a swig of the drink in your grasp.

   Tony’s hand shot out and covered the top, slamming the cup back down on the counter and effectively getting the drink all over your dress.

   “What the fuck?” You tried to shout but the words came out heavy and required too much energy to speak.

   “You’ve had enough for tonight,”

   “It’s just water,” Rumlow defended but Tony paid him no mind.

   Your jaw dropped open and you glared at the older man. Who the hell did he think he was? Tony’s stare burned through your skull and despite your irritation, you couldn’t help but wonder why he was so pissed.

   “Are you mad at me?” You drawled, lulling your head to the side.

   “No,” he responded curtly. 

   “Am I being too loud or something?” You pushed. You couldn’t imagine you were any louder than any other drunken bastard at this party.

   “No,”

   Get her out of there or I swear to God I will, his voice hissed into your ear.

   Your eyebrows rose slightly in excitement, “Mmm, Bucky,” you smiled and Tony nodded.

   “’Mmm, Bucky’ is right. Wanna go see him?” Tony offered, sticking out his hand for you to take.

   You fell forward into Rumlow’s chest but shook your head furiously none the less, “For what? So he can tell me I’m horrendous at my-”

   Oh shit. Your job. The job.

   If only your body didn’t feel so heavy and your mind so light.

   You pushed off Rumlow’s chest and glared at Tony, “I can handle myself,” you insisted, a new sort of sober tone making its way through that caused him to do a once-over. “I know what I’m doing,”

   “How many drinks have you had?” Tony challenged and you fell silent.

   Then you felt a tap, and another and a few more.

   “Six,” You said, hoping you’d counted right.

   Tony, don’t you even fucking consider it, Bucky threatened.

   “You could at least change, recuperate and then come back,” Tony offered and you sighed a breath of relief before nodding.

   “Deal,” you agreed, “I’m hot anyway,”

   Tony gave you one last glance before turning around and blending into the crowd on the other end of the room.

   You looked up to Rumlow who’s gaze was still locked on the sea of people, “Don’t you wish you’d taken that shot now?” you tried to jeer, every last word bringing you deeper and deeper.

   “Are they always that intense?” He questioned, not turning his attention to you.

   “They can be over-bearing,” you admitted, hand grabbing the water from earlier and pressing it up against your forehead, “They consider me the baby so they’re always criticizing and suffocating until I just wished they’d disappear.” You took a gulp, “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the family and I like that I have a cause but . . . they don’t let me do anything. It’s exhausting,”

   You let out a long breath and smeared the condensation from the glass onto your chest. Rumlow studied you then, not just your body but your reaction. He was watching how you dropped your shoulders at the confession and how you faced your back to them to block them out. 

   You plastered your torso on the countertop and tried to slow your heartrate down. You couldn’t be the only one here unfathomably hot.

   “Why is it so fucking hot?” You questioned, fanning yourself weakly.

   “There are a lot of people around,” Rumlow offered, “how about we go somewhere else? Tony did say you had to change,”

   You peered up at him through half-lidded eyes and meekly groaned in compliance. “Fine,”

   You lifted yourself away from the counter and gently placed your feet on the floor. You’d touched the ground faster than anticipated. Had the ground always been so close?

   “Don’t worry, I gotcha.” Rumlow threw an arm around your waist and helped you trudge towards the elevator.

   Where the hell are you going? Bucky yelled and the sound of shuffling could be heard from his end.

   We can’t let you leave with Rumlow, Y/N. We’re not even sure you’re acting anymore, Sam stated.

   Rumlow pressed the button when you couldn’t muster the strength to do it yourself. The level that your room was on lit up and the doors began closing. You thought you saw Rumlow wave at someone but the mock smile on his face didn’t make it seem like a warm good-bye.

   Your legs had all but given out by the time the elevator reached your shared floor. 

   “Heavy,” you muttered, letting Rumlow carry your weight fully.

   “I know, Sugar. We’re almost there,” he soothed and you conceded to the fatigue wearing you down.

   Your head hung low and your arm dangled uselessly at your side. The familiar sound of your door sliding open caught your attention but you did nothing. You couldn’t. 

   “How . . . know . . . my room?” You questioned, each word causing you to pull from an empty well of energy.

   “I’ve been here before.” Rumlow tossed you onto the bed and sprawled you out.

   “Oh. Ok.” You tried to turn on to your side but strong hands gripped down onto your ankles.

   Rumlow sighed and slipped the heels off your feet, examining the pair like he wanted to wear them. You extended your feet until you felt every muscle in your leg stretch to its capacity and let out a groan of pleasure at the release. Those shoes hurt so bad.

   “You seem . . . intelligent, Y/N.” Rumlow dropped your shoes onto the floor and slithered to the side of your bed, standing beside it with his hands tucked into his pockets.

   A bead of sweat trickled down your forehead, “Hot . . .” you croaked and he nodded.

   “You’re right. It is getting kind of hot.” He brought a hand up to his neck and ripped off the tie hanging around it.

   Get the fuck out of my way, a growl erupted in your ear.

   We’re going with you, Buck, Steve responded before knocking something over.

   “So, what I have a hard time understanding is. . . why you’re here?” 

   You groaned a weak ‘huh’ but even that didn’t sound right.

   “You’re good at what you do, you finish every mission successfully and yet you’re underappreciated.” He took a seat at the foot of your bed and placed one of your legs into his lap, “Why do you allow them to treat you like that? We wouldn’t,”

   The shuffling in your earpiece halted.

   “We?” 

   He began to massage your calf and brought your knee up to his lips, peppering light kisses on it. “We could use someone with your skillset, babe. We’d take real good care of you,”

   The shuffling started again.

   Rumlow had made his way onto your thigh at this point and you let out an involuntary moan when he skimmed over a delicate part on your inner knee.

   “Ya like that?” he questioned but didn’t wait for a response. He brought a hand up to his temple and grabbed the earpiece. You figured he just hadn’t taken it out from his earlier shift but when he pulled it apart, you understood why he always kept it on him.

   “Flash . . . drive earpiece?” Your weak tone tilted a little. “W-why tell . . .”

   “I figured I’d give you the option to leave since you seem so . . . suffocated. If you said yes tonight then I would remind you tomorrow. If you didn’t,” he chuckled, “well, you wouldn’t remember anyway.” His hands trailed to your mid-thigh and you squeaked. “I’m impressed though, I’ve never given anyone else as much as I’ve given you tonight. The drug usually works so quickly on others, but not you. It’s kind of hot, actually,”

   Sick fuck, Natasha growled through a ragged breath.

   The world around you was slow or maybe it was you that was slow? You couldn’t tell, honestly. But when Rumlow moved as if he could predict your actions before you could make them, you wondered whether you were moving at all.

   “Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon,” Rumlow sighed.

   You shook your head, or thought you did but despite the way your body was live-wired, it remained still against all desire. 

   Fight. Move. 

   You managed to push your legs shut but his hand slithered between and spread them open similar to opening a door, but this required much less force.

   “Kill,” You threatened and the sinister smile that crawled its way onto Rumlow’s face was vile enough to sink your heart into your stomach.

   “Kill is fucking right.” Someone snarled and your door was ripped from its hinges.

   Rumlow’s hand jerked away from your body and Bucky seized his open palm, intertwining their fingers and pushing Rumlow’s so far back that they touched the back of his own hand. The cracks were sickening onto themselves but had you not been so weak you would’ve turned from the sight altogether. You really couldn’t fathom how his fingers were still attached at all.

   “Lay another hand on her and you won’t be able to use it again.” Bucky spit.

   Despite Rumlow’s pain, the sinister smile remained sprawled on his face, “You should’ve heard the noises she made,”

   Bucky’s grip tightened and the bones in his palm broke next, “I did,”

   Natasha flew in right behind Barnes but completely dismissed the two and headed straight for you with a needle in hand. Your eyes shifted from the needle to Nat’s face and back again until she stabbed it into your upper arm. Ouch. 

   “Wha-”

   “Shh,” Natasha hastily hushed, “Keep your strength, you should be back to normal soon,”

   Steve came behind Nat and scooped you up to lead you out of the havoc going on in the room. Nat turned her focus to Bucky and reached over to grab the earpiece from Rumlow. Who knows if his nose will ever heal back normally. You held one finger in the air as Steve stepped over the splintered door.

   “Goddamit, Y/N,” Steve huffed, jogging towards the elevator and pressing the floor that led to the infirmary.

   “We won,” you croaked out, a small smile on your face and Steve shook his head.

   “I’m never going to hear the end of this,” 

   Steve looked you up and down for bruises but couldn’t find any and you promised you weren’t lying to him when you told him Rumlow did not get very far in his ‘advances’ at all. You had to swear the mid-thigh was the worst that it came to. 

   Bruce was the one that took a few blood samples and made sure everything was reversing back to normal. Apparently, as soon as Rumlow took you to the bar Tony handed Banner the shot glass that Rumlow gave you and Banner ran analysis on it. The cure was pretty easy to find.

   After being given strict orders to lie down for the next hour or so, it had been decided that Rumlow was to be turned in considering all the evidence required to make the arrest was in the flashdrive and everyone was to gather together for a ‘family night’. Whatever the hell that meant.

   You were in the middle of debating which movie to pick with Steve when the infirmary doors flew open.

   “Where is she?” Bucky nearly shouted upon seeing Bruce.

   “That’s my cue.” Steve stood up just as Bucky rounded the corner, “If you need anything me and Banner will be right over there,”

   You smiled and thanked him then turned your attention to the super-soldier who just arrived at the foot of your bed.

   He didn’t say anything for a while, just looked at you. No, not really. Not at you but through you. A few painstakingly slow seconds went by that way.

   “You owe me a new door,” you joked, a half-smile on your face.

   “Are you okay?” He asked, finally registering your presence.

   You nodded slowly, “I am,”

   Then a few more seconds.

   Bucky turned his gaze down to his hands, both of them barren and on display for the world to see, before shifting his weight between either foot, “Did he- did he touch you?”

   “Not really. Just really liked my legs for some reason,” your attempt at another quip didn’t reach Bucky. He stared back up at you waiting for an answer, an honest one. You sighed, “The damage is more mental,” you admitted, now you were the one not able to look up, “I didn’t like being in this altered state of mind. It’s invasive and . . . scary. He could’ve done things, much worse things but it never got that far or that bad. It was more realizing that I wasn’t completely conscious or present and having that state of mind be taken advantage of, that mostly frightened me. Ya know?”

   “More than anyone,” he answered immediately.

   You looked back up towards him, finally making eye contact, “But I’m fine now, really. Just a little spooked. Steve wants to do a movie night tonight and I would actually prefer that over being alone.” Your eyes fixated on the way his hands clenched and unclenched on the bar by your feet, “If I’m alone then I’ll get stuck in my head about it. Besides, I consider this a hard victory with a few bumps in the road,” 

   He chuckled, lulling his head a bit, “You’re too stubborn for your own good,”

   You shrugged, “Maybe. How’s Rumlow?”

   Bucky hissed and moved over to the side of the bed where he took a seat, “He’s unconscious. And has a hand that he’ll never be able to use again. But other than that, he’s fine,”

   You chuckled and Bucky watched how the laugh met your eyes. He liked that look on you. It was one of his favorites.

   “Why are you looking at me like that?” You questioned once it fell silent between you two again.

   “You called me Bucky earlier,” he remembered.

   You scoffed, “I call you Bucky all the time,”

   “Not to my face,”

   “Not to your face,” you agreed, a teasing smile dancing on your lips and Bucky had one that mirrored yours. 

   “It was nice. Hearing it, I mean,” he admitted and a wave of warmth made its way to your face.

   “I see your hands are exposed,”

   He looked down as though he weren’t aware that he’d taken off his own gloves, “These bad boys? A friend of mine reminded me that I’m not my past. I’m my present. Why hide my growth?”

   You twiddled your thumbs together, “She sounds smart,”

   Now he scoffed, “Oh, it wasn’t a girl, it was some old buddy of mine.” He quirked up a brow, “Unless the person being a girl would make you jealous because in that case it was most definitely a girl,”

   You fought against the natural tug at the corners of your mouth, “Is she at least pretty?”

   “Stunning,” 

   “Smart?”

   “Genius,”

   “Good at her job?”

   “Amongst the best,”

   “Then consider me jealous, Barnes,”

   Bucky chuckled and you watched how the laugh met his eyes. You liked that look on him. It was one of your favorites.

[littlefreya]

Velvet Chains

Summary: For a generous fee, August Walker is yours. A man devout to pleasure, who will worship you for an entire night and make sure your first time is more than memorable. 

Promot:  

 A thought - August as a gigolo who specializes in deflowering. 👌

Pairing: Soft! August Walker x Virgin Reader.  

Word count: 1.6K

Warnings: 18+. August Walker as a sex-worker, sexual intercourse, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, a depiction of bodily fluids, soft!August themes, a tinge of angst and August’s monster c... 

A/N: When I received this prompt, I didn’t think I can actually do it justice, but it was 3am and I started dabbling around. Then in the morning, I took another look at it, and this little drabble turned into a one-shot. I hope you’ll like it, I hope I did well. Many thanks to @agniavateira​ my muse who beta’d my story. 

Please give feedback and reblog if you enjoyed reading. 🖤 DM if you want to be added to my tag squad. 

Title: Velvet Chains

They were all little flowers to him, fresh peonies and flushed roses. Young or mature, it never mattered as long as they were still oh so pure. Undefiled, succulent flesh. Kissed by dew and wrapped by the last remaining petals of their innocence.

All for him to willfully pluck.

Sprayed with notes of tobacco, and boozy fragrance of rum - August Walker was the top-tier kind of service, a man to die for with his three-piece suits and shiny leather shoes. At one point he didn’t even need to self-promote; they came to him, all doe-eyed and coy, willing to pay as much as it takes to have him breach through the sealed gates of their garden.   

The rules were quite simple: Cash in advance and always wear protection; other than that anything goes. August liked to see himself as a procurer of fantasies rather than a male prostitute. For a generous fee of $1500, his girls earned themselves a night they never forgot. Whether it began with a dinner at the most outrageous restaurant, a masked ball at a billionaire’s mansion, or an intimate evening with his homemade cooking at a cosy sublet. 

It was up to him to choose the experience for the ladies after thoroughly assessing and profiling each client. He was never wrong; after all, it was his job to study women, both mentally and physically. 

“I know what you need,” he would murmur as he kissed down their navel and swept between their shaky thighs. And in his grip they indeed laughed, cried, and came undone so many times over, reaching out to grasp heaven around his unapologetically huge cock.  

Until you changed everything. 

August couldn’t quite crack you; while he enjoyed, savoured, and conquered every woman he had, it was you who seemed to have more power over him than he did over you. The quiet abyss in your eyes reeled him in like an unfortunate, foolish fish teetering on a hook. Whatever mysteries that mind of yours held, he wanted to pry it open with his fingers and brush them through the parchments of your soul. 

He desired you more than just the flesh; he wanted to be deeper in you than he ever was in any other woman. 

‘Who are you?’

Shivering in his presence, it was crystal clear that you weren’t immune to his spells; yet you didn’t seem impressed by the theatrics or his suave appearance. As if you saw right through him, and knew it was all but a spectacle.  

Wanting everyone to witness your ‘claiming’, he took you to the dimly-lit roof of his private apartment and laid you on a blanket beneath the beaming stars. When his lips touched yours while slowly ridding himself of his clothes, August felt like he could tell you his most kept secrets though he didn’t want to. 

This is not how it worked. Not for him. 

Sorrounded by the fairy tea-lights that adorned the intimate rooftope, you flinched as he began undressing you, and trembled so vehemently once completely bare that all he wanted was to embrace you in his big arms. And he did so, collecting you against the dark fur of his chest, the heat of his body provided shelter from the cold October breeze.

“Beautiful,” he whispered sincerely and allowed his hands to roam the tender map of your body. Likely, he would never see you again, so he wanted to remember every curve, dimple, and scar; he needed your moans imprinted in the museum of his mind. 

The same desperate, breathless pleas only a virgin would make, purer than pure.

Breathing in shudders, you laid down beneath him with your legs spread out. Your little untouched slit displayed to his hungering gaze, asking to be reshaped by his intrustment. August was never one to lose control, but your entire existence has made him question every decision and in a moment of frivolousity, he lost himself completely and broke the most forbidden rule: 

He entered you bare. 

Painfully large and hot as flaming iron, his rigid cock tore through your maidenhood and delved into your velvety pit, desperately searching for the engulfing shelter that was your womb. Weeps of pain rained down your lips; he was too big, and he didn’t slow down. He unwrapped you, tearing your rose petals one by one, sinking in until you could have sworn he was infused between your lungs. 

Overwhelmed by the raw sensation of your wet flesh engulfing him, August raked his arm around the small of your back and held your body against his, forcing you to spread wider, to grant him the infinite access he demanded.

“Look at me kitten,” he murmured in a half-breathless, half-soothing voice and showered hasty butterfly kisses across your forehead, “I’m inside you. It’s done, now let me please you.”

He seared your body, your sensitive entrance pulsating with a twinge of grieving anger around his veiny cock, your walls squeezing, fighting off his lewd intrusion. While you anticipated the pain, the initial shock was too much to bear. 

“I don’t think I can take you,” you retorted and swallowed hard, trying not to cry as he swelled and flinched inside you further more.

August reached a hand to your jaw and caged it between his strong fingers. Not saying a word, he stared intensely into your eyes. Smoke and broken mirrors shadowed his glare. In your daze, you swore you could see his reveries and hear him whisper without moving his lips. 

The barriers of your guarded castle were in ruins, and so was your self-preservation. Fully submitting, you allowed him to take you beneath the shimmering, black silks of midnight. 

August was both gentle and rough as he rode between your thighs, his heavy body surrounding you completely. His entity seeped through your lungs and pores, his bewhiskered mouth left sloppy, ticklish kisses and chanted a hymn of pleasure against your neck. 

For a slight moment, you wondered if he was this passionate with all of his customers. But all thoughts died at the moment his crown slammed into the wall of your womb, and the entirety of your existence was flooded with both the tremors of sudden pleasure and satisfying pain. 

You wanted more, you wanted to be complete. To be completely his.

“Oh god, yes!” You cried for him, clawing your nails at the taut muscles of his back.

Grunting, he plunged into you, harder with every pull and deeper with every thrust. He sought for heaven between your legs and as inexperienced and naive as you were, you followed your instincts and complied to his arousal. Bucking your hips, you yielded to meet the jerk of his hips - your rhythm a savage mess, your demeanour that of a virgin-whore. 

“Good girl, my good girl,” August praised, thrilled of the shift in you, and by the helpless, glossy gaze and gaping mouth as you moaned and begged. Your freshly open cunt clung to his invasion with its growing tightness. Holding onto him the way the moon is bound to earth.

Control was gradually lost over your own bodies, enslaved to something stronger than your wills and wits. It was as if you became vessels to haunting spirits that made you slam into one another, lost in a sweaty, carnal trance until a flush of sudden rapture broke between your legs the way raging waves break upon a ship lost at sea, consuming it completely.

Like a dauntless sailor, August followed you into the depths of euphoria. Jumping to his knees, he hauled you by the waist and slammed you against him, needing to be balls-deep within you. With a loud shout, he came undone, astonished by the raw, unbridled sensation of releasing himself inside another person.

You both shuddered in shock as his thick cum bathed your womb in three, warm gushes. 

‘Oh, August, what have you done?’

Spent, he nearly collapsed on top of you, holding his hands flat to the side of your head. He took a deep breath before pulling out from your hurting hole and moving to lie by your side. The pink mixture of your essence trickled between your simmering lips just the way it coated his still-swollen cock. Glancing down upon it he felt an odd notion of triumph, more than the usual complacent feeling usually evoked with his clientele. 

“Don’t worry, I am clean.” He promised. 

In a way, you were his first as well.

Pulling you against him, he nuzzled your neck and hummed lowly, “I don’t imagine you could give me anything.”

Still trying to land back on solid ground, you said nothing. Words didn’t make it, not through your chest nor your head. You basked within the moment, trying to memorise every vibration that flowed through your veins as the glow became dimmer with every passing minute.

Limbs entangled, he decorated your shoulder-blade with honey-sweet kisses while your spine attached to his hairy chest. He watched you quietly, admiring you completely until the two of you fell into a dreamless sleep under the guarding sky. 

Come morning, August was awakened by the sounds of the raging street below. The scent of toxic vapours hung heavy in the air and his face curled at the sounds of the beeping horns. For a moment, he forgot where he was but then you were the first thing on his mind. Even though he knew the deal was for one night only, something in him itched for a generous ‘on-the-house’ lazy morning sex.

As he rolled to lie on top of you, his chest felt abruptly empty. He was met with nothing but the defiled blanket.

You were gone.   

Though the scent of your body, your sweat, and viscous fluids were still stuck to his skin, your memory a sheer piece of silk carried away by the cruel wind. The weight of a thousand stones dropped in August’s gut and he flipped onto his back once more and stared at the cloudy sky. 

It resonated in him that this was all that it was, and he would never find a girl like you again.     

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own

*I don’t own August Walker or the Mission: Impossible Franchise

[mellowyandere]

One Hell of a Logical Ruse Part 1

Reader: F

Characters: Aizawa Shouta (Eraserhead) 

Summary: Shouta loves a good game of cat and mouse, unfortunately for you the game’s a little rigged. This is somewhat of an experiment to try and write a smut scene from the male POV. Disclaimer I am not a man so uh yeah lmao. 

Based off the pre-established fic You’re Ours to Protect. 

Length: 4.5K

Warnings: non-con, yandere themes, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, praise kink

Aizawa Shouta was a rational man. He did his best to adhere to logic, and to never waste time with unnecessary action. And yet despite this, he absolutely loved watching you try to escape. You were pretty clever, even without him “accidentally” forgetting to lock the second story window that just so happened to be above some forgivingly soft shrubbery. 

You probably would have figured some way out on your own, but something feral inside him didn’t want to wait around for you to act. Normally it was his ever-loud husband Hizashi that fell flat when it came to the notion of patience, but today he would relent to his own selfish desires. 

Toshinori would have been utterly distressed had he been aware of the sleepy pros scheme. The number one was a man of swift action, seemingly never thinking twice before charging fist first into danger. He would not be happy Shouta was playing with you like this, but Toshinori and Hizashi wouldn’t be made aware of his little game with you. After all they had no idea he set this up, so they might genuinely try to punish you. He’d keep it quiet once he caught you and pretend it’s your little secret. Maybe you’d even be a little grateful if you believed he was saving your skin.

He rationalized his behavior by telling himself you seemed so bored, truly this was the perfect way to stimulate your mind and body. So when he heard the telltale sound of a body landing in bushes on the back side of the house he simply started a timer for 20 minutes to give you a bit of a head start. 

Was it cruel to get your hopes up like this? Perhaps, but he’d make sure to fuck you senseless to alleviate the disappointment. After all, if you were a good girl you’d have settled into your life with them already. But you really did enjoy testing them, which brought out the side of him that wanted to put you in your place. 

Giving himself a once over he made sure he had everything he would need for your inevitable return home. Well, now that you were basically quirkiness, all he needed was his capture weapon just in case you put up a struggle. He hadn’t decided yet if he was going to fuck you when he caught you, or if he was going to haul your cute ass home first. 

Thinking about plowing into you with adrenaline still pumping through his veins from the hunt had some blood rushing below his belt. Well he could always just do both.

The shrill ringing of his phones alarm brought him back from his wandering thoughts. With a sadistic grin stretching wide across his face he headed for the front door.

-----

Three weeks. Three fucking weeks trapped inside that house with three insane men. Sure they might not beat you or starve you, but the constant belittling, undermining and infantilizing was about to drive you to insanity yourself. You almost jumped for joy when you noticed an unlocked window on the second floor in Hizashi’s and Shouta’s room. The blond man had a bad habit of using too much cologne, and his dark-haired counterpart was always having to air out the room when the radio star went overboard. 

Eraserhead was normally very diligent about ensuring the window was sealed tight, but last night Toshinori had come home in a flurry of smoke and blood, sending his blond junior into hysterics. It was nothing serious, unfortunately, but Shouta had been the one to calm Hizashi and tend to the number ones injuries. Amidst all the ruckus he had left the window unlocked. 

You knew Shouta would soon realize his mistake and lock the window down tight, leaving you with a small time frame to enact your grand escape. It wasn't ideal, but the best you had been able to do was wait for both blonds to leave, trapping you in the house with Shouta. Normally he let you be during the day, opting to nap and grade what appeared to be homework. Hopefully today would seem like just another day, and he wouldn’t think to check on you until dinner approached. 

You found yourself perched on the window sill, ready to take flight. All you had were the clothes on your back, not wanting to make any suspicious noises that would tip you off. On the count of three you braced yourself and pushed off from the ledge, landing on the bushes below with a thud. 

Fuck, that was a bit louder than you had anticipated. Ignoring your growing anxiety, you made quick work of escaping the clutches of the now flattened bush and took off into the woods on the back half of the house. 

Your heart was hammering like mad in your chest as you sprinted as fast as you could. It was hardly fair that it was your first time outside in three weeks and you couldn’t even slow down to take it all in. Thankfully it was spring, meaning you wouldn’t have to worry about the cold. All you needed to do was find someone to get this stupid quirk canceling collar off and then you could safely recede into the background, making sure the three pros never found you again. 

Easier said than done when one of those pros was All Might, and the other two were just as formidable, but you’d be damned if you didn’t try. You did your best to not leave a trail behind, but knew once Shouta figured out you were gone he’d have no trouble tracing your tracks. It was the unfortunately shitty reality you were dealing with. 

Were you really going to be able to escape? Even now as you ran as fast as you could it felt like a fruitless endeavor. There were too many variables that had to line up perfectly in order for you to pull this off, and as you ran directionless through the woods no viable solutions were coming to you. Hell, even now your lungs were burning from exertion, legs begging you to stop. 

But if there was one thing that you were it was stubborn. Stubborn to a fault sometimes, and so you pushed onwards. After what felt like an eternity of non-stop running you slowed to a walk. The forest seemed never ending, taunting you with its sprawling army of trees and shrubbery. You decided to be more mindful of the tracks you were leaving, veering off course in a way that would hopefully go undetected. 

Now no longer running you simply kept your steps quiet and ears alert in case Shouta had already discovered your absence. He was good at his work, but even he had limitations. 

-----

Shouta had to give credit where credit was due, you were better at this than he thought you’d be. If you were his student he’d be proud, but you were his prey so he was a bit annoyed. At first your tracks had been sloppy, easy to follow and incredibly straight forward. At some point though you had changed your approach, footsteps almost vanishing as you adopted a new tactic. 

He found himself crouching low, inspecting leaves to see which you had accidentally broken. There were no more snapped limbs as you carefully maneuvered through the woods. If he wasn’t a pro at hunting people down you probably would have been able to evade him, but this was his livelihood. 

Ever so carefully he followed your almost invisible trail. He had you beat in endurance so you’d have to settle somewhere eventually, and without food and water you were at a distinct disadvantage. Everything was lining up in his favor as he intended, even if you were making this a little harder than expected. 

The anticipation of catching a glimpse of you, of watching you realize he was there and taking off, made his heart beat faster. The longer you evaded him, the more time he had to come up with a fun punishment for you. 

-----

The sun had been directly overhead at the beginning of your escape, and was now kissing the horizon. Oranges and reds were thrown about the woods as the creatures of the night began to wake from their slumber. You listened to see if you could hear the chirping of frogs to find a water source but no luck. 

There was no doubt in your mind that Shouta was 110% aware of your absence by now and was probably hot on your trail. You were zigzagging a bit, trying your best to not disturb the forest floor while making it harder to track you. Dammit this was the fucking worst, it had to have been at least 6 hours in these woods, and without any food or water you were famished. 

And yet despite wandering about for 6 fucking hours you had yet to see anything besides the woods. Maybe you should just give up, sit down and accept defeat and whatever punishment you had awaiting you. You couldn’t help but shiver a bit at the fear of what that would entail. 

As dusk quickly turned dark you debated on whether or not you were going to rest for the night. Visibility would be lower, giving you a slight edge, but Eraserhead was a night owl meaning you were entering his domain of peak performance. There was also no guessing if he was the only one looking for you. All Might could move faster than you could even comprehend and Present Mic was fine-tuned when it came to noise location. 

Sighing in annoyance as your wayward thoughts shot holes through your confidence you decided to find somewhere to try and lay down for a bit. If all three were out hunting you down they could take turns and overlap the time so you never got to rest. As busy as they should be with hero work they always seemed to find too much time to hover around you. 

Spotting some dense shrubbery, you crossed your fingers that any creepy crawlies would keep to themselves and carefully began to conceal yourself. Perhaps one of them would pass by and you could gain some intel. If you were lucky they’d write this area off after not finding you and search elsewhere. 

Settling as comfortably as one could in a bush you closed your eyes and did your best to focus on the sounds around you. The melodic chirping of crickets was the most overwhelming of all the sounds. Skittering of small forest animals echoing around as well. Your mind began to desensitize to those sounds, the lack of adrenaline that pushed you along at the start of all this causing it to dip into unconsciousness. 

That was until you heard the distinct snap of a branch. Eyes flying open you were on high alert as you kept still. You tried to hear if there would be any follow up sounds, knowing something of a decent size had to have broken the branch. If it had been a deer they would have simply kept moving, which made you all the more anxious. 

“No more tracks kitten, I know you’re here somewhere. This little game dragged on a lot longer than I had anticipated so it seems there won’t be any way to hide this from Zashi and Toshinori.” 

You wanted to scream. Even though you had tried your best it simply wasn’t enough against Eraserhead. 

“If you come out kitten I’ll give you one last shot to run. Those bushes over there look like a mighty fine hiding spot for someone of your size.” His voice was pointed directly towards you.

FUCK. You couldn’t tell if he was bluffing or not at this point but he knew you were here, might as well come out with some dignity before he dragged you out kicking and screaming. 

The bush rustled loudly as you forced your way out. You were tired, famished and most of all so frustrated you wanted to cry. You didn’t even need to look at him to know he had a condescending smirk plastered to his face. 

“There’s my pretty kitty, did you have fun outside?”

Shouta knew just what to say to strike a nerve, but you held your tongue. “One last shot to run. You said so yourself. Ditch the capture weapon and catch me like a man, I mean unless you don’t think you can. I’m already quirkiness which is your gimmick on a regular day, so really you're just beating on someone while they're already down.” You looked up now, glaring at him as his smile grew in amusement. 

“I’m going to have to be a lot more physical without it you know, I’ll have no choice but you manhandle you.”

“I’d rather take my chances.” You knew even without his capture weapon you didn’t stand much of a chance of escape. Your only goal now was to try and see how much he was willing to handicap himself. 

“Gonna give me a head start or are you going to just run as soon as I do?”

At this Shouta had to keep himself from snarking back at you. He had already given you a head start, but if he told you this was all set up you’d probably lose the will to fight on. “Five minutes. I’ll give you five minutes to run as far as you can and then I’ll come after you,” he said while pulling out his phone. 

“What about Toshinori and Hizashi?” 

“At the house. I told them I’d handle this, Toshinori will be coming to get us though once I tell him game over. We’re pretty deep in the woods and I don’t feel like walking back for six hours.”

You nodded at his words. So it was just the two of you then. Your combat skills were nothing to write home about, but maybe if you fought dirty you could gain the upper hand. 

“Alright, tell me when.”

“Oh, I already started it. You have 4 minutes and 17 seconds.”

Fucking asshole. You took off sprinting, running as fast as you could, only opting to slow to a jog once you thought you were out of earshot. You wanted him to believe you’d be trying your damndest to put distance between the two of you. But you knew you’d never outrun him. Instead you were going to continue jogging for a bit, counting down the seconds in your head so you didn’t lose track your timer. 

Once your remaining time was up you were going to lay low and try to ambush him. He wouldn’t be paying as close attention to your trail since he knew he could easily catch up. 

After the remaining 4 minutes had passed you found a decent sized tree to hide behind and worked on slowing down your breathing. It felt like your heart was going to chisel its way straight through your bones, your limbs trembling with anxiety. It wasn’t often you were hunted back when you were an anti-hero. Not many people knew who you were which made it incredibly easy to be looked over. 

Scooping up handfuls of dirt you waited. You heard him before you saw him. He wasn’t bothering to take it slow, seemingly eager to get it over with. He ran right past you, noticing you a second too late as dirt and debris were chucked straight into his face. 

He yelled out in surprise, hands reaching out to grab you but you jumped out of reach. True to his word his capture weapon was nowhere in sight. Screaming in anger you lunged at him, nails attempting to claw his face but his own larger hands were working on wiping off your dirt assault, effectively blocking you.  

He stumbled back a bit, unprepared for your hostility, before steadying himself and turning the tables back on you. In one swift motion his fist collided with your gut, forcing the air from your lungs. Your arms came down to protect where he had hit as you wheezed pathetically. Seconds later his larger frame came crashing into you, easily knocking you to the ground. 

You cried out in pain, head hitting the ground a bit too hard as stars danced behind your eyes.

“Not very smart of you Y/N, I mean it beats trying to outrun me, but really? Dirt? It’s like you want me to punish you or something.”

“GET OFF ME!” 

Placing a hand on the back of your head he pushed you down while his other arm pulled the lower half of your body flush against him. You could feel his erection pressing up against your ass.

You were a snarling sobbing mess at this point. All your emotions crashing down at once as you thrashed below Shouta.

“Easy now easy, calm down kitten. You did really good, better than I thought you were going to. If you calm down I might be willing to reduce your punishment, but you have to stop throwing a fit first.”

Despite his words Shouta was enjoying almost every second of your thrashing. The only thing he didn’t enjoy was knowing how disappointed you were right now. Anyone would be after coming so far. Now was his chance to make it up to you before giving Toshinori the go ahead. 

As your struggles subsided the only movement from your body was from your gentle sobs. Shouta for his part was slowly grinding his hard cock against your ass as he softly shushed you. 

“I know you’re disappointed kitten but I’ll make you feel better. If you’re a good girl for me I’ll be willing to look past that little dirt tactic. You’re such a smart girl though, you really did catch me by surprise.”

Leaning down he began to whisper into your ear, removing the hand from your head and bringing it down to your clothed pussy. 

“You always were resourceful, it’s one of the things I fell in love with about you. If only you were a hero, but then again if you were I wouldn’t have had the fun of hunting you down.”

You felt your stomach drop at his words. All three of them enjoyed reminiscing about how they first saw you and all their subsequent actions that lead to your imprisonment. The effort they had put into bringing you “home”. It was beyond disturbing. 

“Please Shouta, not here. Can we, can we just go home first?”

“Maybe if I had found you 4 hours ago, but right now you’re treading on very thin ice. Be a good girl for me and I’ll make sure Hizashi and Toshinori don’t punish you too harshly when we get back.”

His large hand was pawing at your clothed sex, black hair draping over your own face as his body curled around you. He slowly rutted against you, excited huffs of air ghosting across the side of your face. You could practically feel his heart vibrating against your back he was so worked up. 

He gently rubbed his stubble against the side of your face, composure slipping a bit. While Shouta absolutely loved how feisty you could be, nothing compared to when you submitted to him. He craved the feeling of your tired body giving in to his ministrations, but he needed more. 

His hand quickly slipped between your pants and underwear, index finger eagerly aiming for your folds. He couldn’t care less that you were sweaty and dirty from the hunt. Right now all he could think about was the softness of your exposed flesh, and much to his delight, the slight wetness to your outer lips. 

“Seems like someone likes being caught more than they let on hmm kitten?”

He couldn't help but taunt you a bit, loving the way you sniffled and whimpered beneath him. You knew when to behave yourself, when to be good for him. Arousal was flooding his veins. The way it felt to rub himself against your perfect ass, even through layers of clothes, had his mind blanking out. 

Your core was warm, even without him dipping a finger inside. Gently he began to delve deeper, gathering up your arousal to spread around. Your pants were starting to bother him a bit, retracting his hands he made quick work of not only your bottoms, but his as well. You remained still for him, opting to sulk like a child as he prepared to ravish you. 

You were too cute like this, and with the lower half of your body on full display he couldn't help but groan in delight. Bringing a hand down he slapped your ass hard, mesmerized by the way your flesh gave way. You yelped in surprise, body rutting forward. His cock twitched as he palmed your sore flesh, cooing softly in apology. You glared back at him, pretty little face set in a pout.

As much as he wanted to slap your ass until you cried for him to stop he restrained himself. Although this was a punishment, he had set you up. He would go easy on you, not forgetting his promise to himself to help you forget the frustration you were feeling right now. 

Whenever you got angry you opted to stop talking, instead waiting for a moment of weakness to strike or quietly accept your fate. Judging by your defeated expression he could safely assume the latter 

Folding himself over you he brought his hand back down to your pussy, thumb working slow circles on your clit while he middle finger delved deeper. Your entrance was a bit tight, but with gentle persistence he worked his way inside. 

Your velvety inner walls clamped down on him. He couldn’t help but rut his aching cock against your bare ass as his mind drifted to the feeling of you clamping down on his arousal instead. Your whines of protest only further spurring on his overwhelming need to be inside you. 

Adding a second finger he began to pump into you with a bit more urgency. Your slick was quickly coating his hand as he hit all the spots he knew would work you up to your orgasm. Groaning in delight he brought his lips to your exposed neck, sucking and nipping at your soft flesh. 

He loved when he could tell you were getting close. Your warm walls would clamp down on him, breathy mewls and moans escaping your soft lips. You were rocking back into him, uncaring of the fact that you were grinding against him as you chased your release. In these moments you abandoned your resolve to fight against him, and he happily took advantage of that. After all, if your body knew what you wanted, surely your mind would catch up one day.

Your moans were more audible now, hands grasping at the forest floor. Your back was arched into him, desperate to use him. So close, you were so close he knew it, and right before you could finish he pulled his hand away. He laughed as you huffed in frustration. 

“Shouta pl-please.” Fuck, he loved it when you begged. It didn’t happen often with how stubborn you were but when it did he knew he had to comply. 

Instead of verbally responding he opted to do what he wanted to all night long. Lining up the tip of his cock to your entrance he groaned at the heat radiating off you. Pumping his hand along his length a couple times to lube himself up with your excess fluid he pushed the tip in. You stilled beneath him, and in one swift movement he fully sheathed himself. 

His mind went blank as you cried out in pleasure, wet walls convulsing around him as your orgasm tore through you. He held still, opting to gently pet you while cooing softly down at you. Before he met you, even with Hizashi, he had never been very vocal during sex. But now he couldn’t stop himself from babbling a bit, praising you for being such a good girl. 

As your body stilled in his arms he continued to plant kisses along your delicate neck. Your soft sniffles made his heart clench a bit, how was it possible for you to be so damn cute? 

“Alright kitten now it’s my turn. No pulling anything stupid, I won’t take long.”

This whole hunt had been one giant tease, working him up in a way he normally wouldn’t allow himself. Pulling out he groaned at the feeling of his cock sliding against you. Moving his hands he grabbed your waist, eyes transfixed on where you were joined. Your back was arched as you braced yourself on your elbows, presenting yourself to him. 

His mind clouded over, blood opting to drag his attention elsewhere. He began to push back in, desperate to feel you surrounding him. Setting a tempo he pulled about halfway out before slamming back in, loving the way your body moved as you bounced off him. 

His hands dug into your supple flesh, possibly leaving bruises. He could feel the oncoming of his own orgasm, the muscles in his lower abdomen pulsating. He was panting, heart racing in his rib cage as his eyes rolled back into his head. He didn’t have the patience to edge himself today, he needed this, needed you.

He loved hearing the way your breath was forced from your lungs when he fully sheathed himself inside you. He knew he was overstimulating you a bit, but the part of him that needed to find his own release didn’t pay that fact much mind. All he could think about was the way it felt to be one with you, lost inside your soft warmth.  

After only a couple more minutes of relentlessly pounding into you he couldn’t hold it back any longer. A wave like sensation rushed through his body as his hips stuttered. He folded over you, wrapping his arms around you as he felt his hot cum rush through his cock and fill your body. The emotions rushing through him as he released into you, the woman he loved, were indescribable.

It didn’t take long for his muscles to relax, euphoria swept away by the need to take a nap washing over him. You had long since stopped crying, remaining motionless beneath him. He wondered what was going through your mind as he held you flush against him.

“Sho-Shouta.” So meek, so quiet. His heart fluttered a bit. “Can we go home now... I want to take a shower.”

Chuckling softly he pulled himself out, groaning a bit at the feeling of overstimulation as your warm walls dragged against him. Leaning away he smiled as his cum leaked out your pussy. 

“Yes kitten we can go home. I’ll make sure to clean you up.”

You groaned in protest, hating when they insisted on washing you. He knew you liked your privacy but Hizashi and Toshinori were still going to want to punish you. He’d keep close by to keep them from being too harsh. 

Pulling up his pants he fished his phone out of his pocket, rolling his eyes at the sheer quantity of missed calls from the two aforementioned. Poor little kitten, it didn’t look like you’d be getting off easy. 

[hongism]

1:58 am - c. jongho 18+

↣ pairing: jongho x fem!reader ↣ genre: fluff, smut ↣ wc: 2.0k ↣ for @ppersonna​​: “HELLO MY BESTIE RATTY PLS JONGHO WITH 25 - Being somewhere you’re not supposed to be 34 - “It’s 2am. Go back to sleep.” ↣ warnings: language, oral sex: f

In your defense, Jongho is both a maniac and insatiable. What started as a lovely movie night between the two of you, with his roommate Yeosang curled up in the armchair by the couch, has quickly devolved into leagues of stress for you and endless amusement for Jongho. Yeosang is (thankfully) off in dreamland and fast asleep despite the movie still going in the background, although that does nothing to quell your current nerves as Jongho’s hand is moving further up by the minute. 

It started at your kneecap, two fingers tracing mindless patterns into your skin under the blanket. Then he slipped to the inside of your knee and clutched tight at your flesh before pulling up the inside of your thigh.

Now, he has a hand basically over your crotch, close enough to make you sweat but far enough away to have you refraining from squeezing your thighs shut over his fingers.

And being a cocky little shit, of course Jongho knows exactly what he’s doing to you — if the smirk curling over his lips is any indication at least. You aren’t about to scar yourself or Yeosang by fooling around on the already stained leather couch in their apartment, as much as you really want to give in to his lingering touches.

You haven’t been paying attention to the movie on the screen for at least an hour, maybe longer than that because you don’t even recall the name of the damn film at this point, and all your focus is honed in on the fingers pressing into your thigh. Jongho won’t stop teasing with his touches either. Every few seconds, he squeezes just enough to startle you into sitting up straight just when you’ve recovered from the last touch. You’re certain he’s trying to seem interested in the movie given the way he keeps making interested noises or scowling at the screen, but then his smirk returns and you know what he’s really up to.

In short, you have had more than enough of his fun and games, growing increasingly frustrated with each passing second. Your body is so pent up and overheated that sweat is pooling at your brow, and that’s what makes you nudge his hand away as a last-ditch effort to save yourself from this teasing hell he’s trapped you in. Yet this isn’t your apartment and you can’t very well escape to his bedroom without looking suspicious to Yeosang. As far as his roommate is concerned, you and Jongho are still just friends, even if there is an ungodly amount of sexual tension lingering between the two of you like this.

Water. Yes, you need water. And where can you get water? The kitchen of course. Perfect plan. You should be safe from Jongho’s antics there, no?

“Feeling alright, Y/n?”

As it turns out, you are very much not safe in the kitchen.

You nearly throw the glass in your hand at Jongho’s head out of sheer shock when he sneaks up on you, creeping into the kitchen behind you like a damn ghost. You manage to hold back from doing that, but a small yelp escapes your lips instead. Jongho laughs at that, continuing to chuckle under his breath even when you try to level him with a sharp glare. He has the audacity to look absolutely delectable at nearly two o’clock in the morning wearing nothing but a stupid black t-shirt and stupid grey sweatpants with his stupid hands shoved deep in the pockets like he wasn’t trying to practically finger you on the couch moments ago.

“I don’t know, am I?” It made sense in your head, although that might be because of the haze of arousal over your brain because once it actually comes out, you’re wondering why the hell you said that.

“Well, you felt more than alright just a few minutes ago.” He’s smiling again, another lascivious grin that has you sinking your teeth into your lower lip.

“Not here,” you hiss back as a last-ditch effort to talk yourself out of this (again).

“Because Yeosang is in the other room? Come on, Y/n, you know half the fun is in the risk of getting caught.”

A scoff passes through your lips, loud enough to resound through the small kitchen.

“You’re insatiable.”

“And you’re painfully aroused. Are we done stating the obvious?”

Throwing this glass at his head is a lot more tempting now, but that would certainly cause a ruckus and Yeosang would wake up in a heartbeat.

“Only because you were fucking feeling me up on the couch like it’s your goddamn job!”

Jongho crosses the kitchen in three seconds flat, suddenly so close to you that you can’t breathe your own air without feeling the heat of his breath against your lips. You stumble back and hit the edge of the counter behind you. Jongho doesn’t give you a moment to recover, catching your wrists in his grip and pressing them hard against the surface of that same counter.

“Careful there, doll, you wouldn’t want to wake anyone up, would you?”

“No, that’s not what I want,” you exhale. It’s not enough to quell the desire in your gut, especially not when Jongho’s fucking thigh is pressed between your legs and leaving you squirming. He knows how you feel about his thighs thanks to an unfortunate admission on your part one night when you had too much alcohol (and unfortunately Yeosang knows too since he was an unwilling participant in that conversation).

“What do you want then? Although, I’m fairly certain that I know.” Again, Jongho’s gaze flicks down over your body, enough to be obvious about the way he’s checking you out from head to toe, but he returns to staring you in the eye after a second.

“Shut up and eat me out already,” you hiss under your breath. In the same sentence, you free your wrists of his grasp and push down hard on his shoulders. It’s nothing compared to his strength — he’s more than strong enough to resist your futile efforts, but he goes along with it anyway and lets you push him to his knees in front of the counter.

“You’re lucky I never make you beg, baby. If I did, you’d never get to cum.”

Tempting, you think, but right now you aren’t in the mood to be edged or teased anymore. Jongho did his fair share of that for over two hours, so all that is on your mind is a release under his skilled tongue.

“Please, Jongho, I’d like to do this before Yeosang wakes up…”

His hands are already curled around your pajama shorts, taking the soft fabric into his grip and pulling down with no resistance. A sharp inhale follows as the cold air hits your nether regions, and Jongho lifts one of your legs up to his shoulder as he bunches your shorts into the palm of his hand.

“Be glad I didn’t take you on the couch right in front of him then.���

Then Jongho is smiling up at you from between your legs, and you would be lying if you said that isn’t one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen in your life. You brace yourself on the counter, knuckles white from the effort of clinging to the marble, and the man beneath you takes his teasing a step further. Soft lips caress the inside of your knee over the spot he clung to for the better part of an hour, then he follows the same path his hand took as well. He doesn’t stop until his nose is flush with your folds, and even then he exhales against you in a way that has a chill rushing down your spine. Your curl away from the counter, unintentionally pressing your hips closer to his mouth in the same fluid motion. It’s enough to make his nose hit your clit dead-on in a way that has a strangled moan escaping your lips. You fling a hand up to your mouth (too late as it does absolutely nothing to conceal the sound).

“Now it sounds like you’re trying to wake Yeosang up, doll.”

“I’d like to see you stay quiet when I’m sucking you off next time.” You manage to smirk a little, just enough to be playful and throw him off a little. He’s just as quick to retaliate, which is both a good and bad thing for you because his next move is to hoist your other leg onto his shoulder, and it takes every ounce of your willpower not to clamp your thighs around his face. You have to bite the side of your thumb to quell the noises bubbling up your throat; your remark seems to have been enough to spur him fully into action, his tongue brushing between your folds until he reaches your hole with practiced ease. You can’t count on one hand how many times you’ve indulged in this — his tongue pressing at your entrance like he has no other purpose in life, eating you out with more enthusiasm than ever, drawing so many noises out of you that it’s getting difficult to keep quiet.

“Jongho?”

The man between your legs freezes but doesn’t move away from your cunt, staring up at you from between your legs without blinking for so long that you think he’s truly stuck like that. Admittedly, you’re stuck where you are too, both because he’s got your legs around his face and on account of Yeosang’s sudden intrusion on your otherwise intimate moment. Your gaze goes straight to the archway to the kitchen. The kitchen island is tall enough to block the view of your lower half, but if Yeosang steps even one more foot into the room, he will certainly see what Jongho is up to. There’s no telling how long it’ll be before he does enter, and you’re watching with peaked anxiety as Jongho sidles up your body into a standing position again.

His hands find your hips, and next thing you know, he’s moving you around and pushing you until your back hits the kitchen island. It protects you from possible exposure to Yeosang, which proves to be a good move on his part because Yeosang pokes his head in the archway a second later. Jongho moves to the side enough to avoid suspicion but you’re still quite nude from the waist down and screwed if Yeosang decides to come further in.

“Oh, there you two are. The movie’s over?” Yeosang says, easing his weight against the doorframe.

“Yeah, you fell asleep pretty early on honestly. But it’s 2 am. Go back to sleep. We’re just picking up some snacks we pulled out while you were asleep.”

You think that excuse is far too easy to see through, especially if Yeosang decides to even so much as glance around the kitchen to see that you are certainly not doing any cleaning whatsoever. You squeeze your eyes shut. Looking at Yeosang right now would be a mistake and you would probably give away what you and Jongho have been up to in the blink of an eye.

“Yeah, yeah, okay. I’m too sleepy to help you anyway. See you in the morning.” Yeosang stifles a yawn, lifting the back of his hand to his mouth, then lets his arms fall into a stretch. He lingers for only one more second before disappearing from the archway. You exhale the second he disappears, shifting to stare Jongho down as your heart continues to race rampantly in your chest without relent.

“That was a fucking mood killer,” you mutter before crossing your arms over your chest. Jongho huffs out a sigh and puffs his cheeks full of air. He stretches a hand out to touch your bare hip again.

“Let me make it up to you?”

[noforkingclue]

You Should’ve Ran (Zemo x reader)

Summary: There was a lot of this you should’ve done but now it was too late.

Warnings: Dark, non con, choking, poorly written smut, Zemo being an absolute bastard

Author’s Note: So this is probably one of the darkest things I’ve written. I also haven’t written anything smutty in ages so I don’t know how good it’s going to be. Please take note of the above warnings!

You should’ve ran when you had the chance. You should’ve packed a bag and ditched your home as soon as he let you go, but you didn’t. You were foolish, arrogant, you thought that you could beat him at his own game and now you were paying the price.

You should’ve ran.

But you stayed.

And now you were paying the price

You hated to admit it but you had gotten used to the staring, to the constant feeling of eyes on the back of your neck. The soft brushes in the crowd that you somehow, instinctively, knew were from him. The footsteps following you home at night even though you could protect yourself. In the beginning it felt like he was some sick, twisted protector. You were torn between craving his attention and fleeing, although you knew that running away from him would just start your cat and mouse game again. There was no escaping once he had you in his sights.

The one thing that still unnerved you was when you could tell that he had been in your flat. That was your one safe space again the world and for him to be in it without your permission felt like he was violating an unwritten rule. It wasn’t as though he had done anything dreadful (at least in the beginning) but it felt odd. When you walked in after a long day’s work and smelt his cologne or to wake up to a basket of your favourite pastries. It felt oddly intimate and you hated it.

However, things took a turn for the worse in the summer and when you finally decided to put an end to your single life. The date had gone well, very well, and you were looking forward to meeting him again. You had been so elated that you didn’t register that someone was in your flat until it was too late. You were slammed against your front door, Zemo’s arm across you neck. He was breathing heavily and his eyes half lidded. The warning was clear and he pressed harshly against you before letting you go. You collapsed at his feet gasping for air. When you tried to stand he put a hand on top of your head and pushed you down saying,

“Pets should remain at my feet and on their knees.”

The threat was clear but you were stupid enough to ignore it. You continued seeing your date until the notes arriving. The threats, warning you to stop seeing your boyfriend unless you never wanted to see him again, telling you (in explicit detail) exactly what he wanted to do to you. The handwritten notes made you blush as you read the graphic details and you swiftly crumpled them up and threw them away. This did nothing to stop him and it actually increased the frequency of the notes. But the one that made your blood turn to ice was one of the shortest. You stood rooted to the stop as you took in the neat script.

 You have one week to come to me, pet.

 It terrified you. The violent and lustful words written in such neat handwriting was an unsettling juxtaposition. You knew you should break up with your boyfriend for his own safety but much like everything else you had acted it was too late. You had turned on the news one morning and you dropped your coffee mug in shock. As you saw your boyfriend’s face on the screen and the news report calming stating details of the unsolved murder, you knew you had to leave.

It was late when you finally re-entered your flat after speaking with the police. It had taken longer than expected but at least now you were crossed off their list of suspects. You poured yourself a glass of water and took a large sip before putting it down and rushing to your bedroom. You grabbed your suitcase and started shoving clothes into it. You didn’t care what you took just as long as you left as soon as possible. You ran back into the living and paused. You stared wide eyed and slowly looked over your shoulder. A piece of paper was neatly tucked under the glass. With shaking hands you unfolded the notes and collapsed onto the sofa when you read it.

 I warned you.

 You finished the water in one gulp, grabbed your bag and left your flat and life behind. You ran out of your flat not caring who saw you. You needed to get as far away as possible but you knew it was too late. Zemo had you in his grasp and he was not going to let you go that easily. You shuddered as you felt his piercing gaze on you, even though you couldn’t see him, and you ducked into an alley in the hopes of losing him in the backstreets. You knew you had fucked up when the sounds of the city became muffled and all you could hear was your own laboured breathing and the soft click of slowly approaching footsteps. You took a sharp left and let out a cry of frustration when you ran into a dead end. You closed your eyes and felt the tears run down your face as you heard Zemo stop at the entrance to the passageway.

“Commendable effort,” he said walking towards you, “But really pointless.”

“Please,” you said quietly, “Please just let me go.”

“I can’t do that,” Zemo pressed his body up against your back, “I’ve given up so much for you already.”

Zemo put one hand on your shoulder and pushed you towards the wall. You let out a cry as you were pushed roughly against it and Zemo caged you in with his body. A fresh set of tears fell down your face as you felt his arousal against you. You shook your head as Zemo pressed a trail of kisses down your neck.

“This wasn’t how I intended things to go,” he said against your shoulder, “I wanted to take you away from this place, to take you in my bed. To shower you in the love and affection that had been denied all your life. You would want for nothing and all I require is one thing.”

You didn’t answer and one of Zemo’s hands snaked up and clasped itself around your throat. He squeezed harshly and you gasped in shock.

“For you to do everything I say,” he hissed, “To give me everything.”

Zemo’s other hand ghosted along the waistband of your jeans. You tensed before trying to shake him off. Even though you should’ve had super strength you found yourself weakened and you heard Zemo chuckle darkly.

“Is something the matter?” he asked mockingly, “You should be stronger than I am.”

The sickening realisation of what he did settled in the pit of your stomach.

“You drugged me.” You said weakly

“An unfortunate necessary,” he said, “But for me to take what I want I had to do it. If you had just come with me willingly, like I asked you to,” he squeezed your neck again and you whimpered, “It wouldn’t have been like this. I would’ve been gentle. I would’ve given you everything but instead you forced me to do this.”

His hand delved into your jeans and his fingers rubbed harshly against you. You cried out at the sudden sensation and Zemo cooed in mock sympathy.

“See how much easier things would be if you just submitted, mein Liebling,” he said, knowing how much you hated that nickname, “You would’ve been in a soft, warm, bed and not pushed up against this wall and being taken like a whore.”

“Please,” you sobbed, “Stop.”

Once against Zemo tightened his grip around your neck, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.

“If I were you,” he said quietly, “I would be quiet. Pets don’t talk back to their masters.”

Much to your horror Zemo didn’t ease his grip. His fingers continued to work roughly against you and when they circled against your entrance you tried to squirm away. However, there was nowhere to go. When you moved back you brushed against Zemo and you shuddered when you heard his soft moans.

“Already aching for me,” he said, “I can feel how wet you’re getting for me.”

“Stop.” You said weakly

“Never,” he bit your earlobe, “You need to learn your place in this world. Your place which is in my bed, under me, by my side.”

Each word was punctuated by his fingers slowly swirling around you. You shook your head and he growled before shoving a finger inside you.

“So tight,” he hissed, “So ready for me. You want me don’t you.”

“No.”

“Then why are you so wet.”

Any other time you would’ve gone on about biology but at this current moment, with his hand around your neck, you couldn’t get the words out. You didn’t need to see him to know that he was giving you the same mocking smile that haunted your nightmares.

“You want me,” he said as he slowly moved his finger in and out, “You need me. You crave this. What you need is for someone to take you in hand. To show you proper discipline and to raise you up to your fullest potential. Is what I’m asking for in return really that much? Your freedom for the world?”

Zemo loosened his grip and you gasped for air. His hand moved to your chin and tilted your head back so you were looking into his eyes.

“I don’t want the world,” you said, “I just want to live my life in peace.”

“I can give you peace,” Zemo said resting his forehead against yours, “I can give you everything.”

His fingers stilled and you whimpered at the loss of movement. He smirked at your reaction and briefly swiped his thumb over your clit. You jumped in his arms and let out a soft moan. In a flash Zemo had spun you around and pushed your back against the wall. His fingers started moving again and you gasped in pleasure.

“Just give in,” he said, “Just give in to me. I know you want to, my pet.”

“N… no.”

“Yes,” he hissed, “You do. There’s no point in fighting what we both know you want. What you need.”

“I don’t need you!”

“Yes you do,” he growled, “You just need to give into your desires and I will teach you to obey. Pets like you need discipline.”

“I don’t need-“

“I know what is best for you,” he continued, “I know what you need.”

Zemo roughly added another finger and our hands flew to his shoulders. You bit your lip to try and prevent yourself from moaning. Zemo removed his hand from your neck and pulled your lip free. He looked at you lips for a moment before leaning forward and capturing them in a rough and bruising kiss.

You tried to struggle free but Zemo firmly tangled a hand in your hair and kept you close against him. You refuse to open your mouth for him and Zemo growled against your lips. In response to your refusal to submit he brushed his thumb over your clit again. You gasped in pleasure and Zemo seized the opportunity to fully dominate you. You closed your eyes and tried to pretend that this wasn’t happening, praying that someone would find you and save you, but Zemo was making it impossible. He broke the kiss and placed a soft, mockingly loving, kiss at the corner of your mouth.

“Disobedient pets need training,” he said, “Time and patience is necessary but don’t worry,” his lips brushed along yours again, “We’re going to have all the time in the world.”

Your eyes flew open as Zemo added a third finger. Your hands tightened their grip on his shoulders and you collapsed against him feeling yourself get close. Zemo’s free hand stroked your hair and he whispered against your ear,

“There is no shame in giving into your desires. To take what you crave with the one person who can give it to you. I understand you, know you, better than anyone else. That boy you called your lover wasn’t fit for you.”

“He wasn’t… we never…”

“Good,” he said, “I would hate it if someone else touched you before me. It means that I can shape you into my perfect little pet. Keep you tied up and needy just for me. I’ll have you constantly on edge until you are begging for me. Tied up in my, sorry,” he chuckled darkly, “Our bed. By the end you’ll be pleading for me. You will come to me willingly or I’ll keep you bound and naked until you do.”

Your breathing became heavier as you felt the orgasm build up in you. Zemo exhaled deeply through his nose and rested his head on your shoulder.

“You’ve been a very bad little pet,” he said, “And I did think that deserves a punishment don’t you?”

You let out a cry of frustration as Zemo roughly pulled his fingers out of you. You sobbed at you lack of release and Zemo stroked your head in mock comfort. His hand moved from the back of your head to you chin as he forced you to look into his eyes. You wishes you had the strength to look away but you didn’t. You felt yourself started to fall and Zemo’s arm encircled around your waist and held you close to his chest.

“Don’t worry,” he said softly, “Behave yourself and I won’t have to do that again. Soon you’ll learn how beneficial it will be to give in and forget about your concerns. It will just be you, me and our perfect family.”

You tried to push Zemo away again, the thought of being forced to have a family with him renewing your determination to get away. However, the sharp pain in your neck swiftly put a stop to your escape attempt. Your limbs started to feel like they were made out of lead and all you were able to do was collapse as your knees buckled under you. Zemo held you in his arms and gently cradled you as darkness took over. Just as you slipped into unconsciousness the last thing you saw was Zemo’s smiling face and soft whispers of how you were going to be perfect for him.