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citrus-moonlight · 19 days

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Salvation is a Deep Dark Well

Chapter 3: Now When I Look In Your Eyes

[ Masterlist - Part Two ] -> [ Masterlist - Part One ]

Fandom: MCU - Age of Ultron, Black Panther Pairing: Ulysses Klaue x F!Reader Word count: 9.4K Chapters: 3/6 Rating: Explicit

Summary: You manage to distract yourself for long enough to make through the rest of the day, but when Klaue finally returns to you he still makes you wait, surprising you with something unexpected before finally making good on his promise.

Warnings: Explicit!, Mild Age Difference, Reader is Late 30s, Use of Pet Names, Teasing, Smut, Dirty Talk, Reference to Masturbation (F), Mild Size Kink, Soft Dom, Nipple Play, Oral Sex (F!Receiving), Begging, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms (F), PIV Sex, Cock Riding, Cream Pie, Praise Kink, Needy Dom, Very Brief Fingering, Cum Eating, Porn With Plot, Reader is In It Now Kids, More Accidental Feelings Oh No

Author's Note: Hello, friends, and welcome back! When I tell you I'm very glad I split up this chapter - this was essentially supposed to be a chapter "prologue" of maybe 2k, and then, well, *gestures broadly*. Klaue wants what he wants, what can I say. 😏

The next chapter is going to be an undertaking (gala!), and I can't really give a timeline at this point, but it's at least outlined and in the meantime you can read their little holiday interlude (which I accidentally wrote first, lol) and it'll now be in order! ☺️

As always, thank you for reading and for sticking with me, I hope you enjoy this next chapter! 💕

✨ Read on AO3 ✨

Chapter title is from "Come Alive" by Cannons

Now that you're by my side I get this feeling, get this feeling Like I'm hypnotized Now when I see your eyes I get this feeling, get this feeling I just come alive And I've been dreaming of you Do you dream of me too?

Through every ounce of will you can summon you somehow manage to last.

After stopping by your room to quickly wash and change, you realize once you get back to the industrial sector that there’s not enough of your shift left to justify starting on any new projects, so instead you occupy yourself with busy work - finally putting away your station that was left in disarray after the tense altercation earlier, and getting rid of everyone’s scrap that's been piling up in the workspace.

Then you trudge through a layer of fresh snow to finally finish the inventory that you’d attempted to start two days ago before everything had gone to shit.

Even as you try to focus on the tedium of the various tasks you inevitably find yourself turning over Klaue’s request - his command - in your mind.

Honestly, you probably wouldn’t have done more than think about it, having really just been wanting to tease him (which you’re starting to enjoy doing, perhaps a little too much), but on top of the natural frustration from being interrupted, then being told that you couldn’t?

He'd managed to find a way to drive you mad even when he was nowhere near you.

Waves of heat roll through you as you make entries in the log, and every time you move you’re growing increasingly aware of the slick sensation between your thighs, a reminder that you’re already making a mess of your fresh panties.

And, so? What do you want?

Besides whatever he’ll give you.

Besides everything.

A thick index finger slowly sinking into you, dragging and curling while his thumb rubs your throbbing clit until you’re shaking.

Another tick on your paperwork and you circle the total a little more aggressively than necessary, leaving a little tear in the paper, ink marking the page beneath.

Locking up the first cage you move on to the next, feeling as though plumes of steam should be visibly rolling off of you, and eyeing a snowdrift you wonder if it would draw too much attention if you just lay down on it face first. It seems like the only thing that might actually cool you off right now as the overlap of memory and anticipation has an aching heat wrapping around your hips and flowing outward from deep in your belly.

His thigh pressed against your sex, but now you're bare for him, the hair on his leg dark with your arousal as strong muscles flex beneath you, and this time you rut against him for as long as you want.

And he's the first man who's made it feel like it’s alright for you to want. Unafraid of your desire Klaue instead seeks it out, coaxing you to surrender to it, pushing you to admit that it’s yours until you can't help but take and then, oh, the satisfied darkness in his eyes when you do.

As you continue to work you wonder if maybe he’s feeling the same way you are right now. Does it make him hard to think about you while he deals with his men and speaks to important figures? Is he shifting and adjusting himself at the thought of how needy you must be but forced to deny yourself?

Or is he calm, knowing that even now there’s a way that every thought is tethered to him, not thousands of miles away but right here in the same building, waiting.

The idea of him being distracted pleases you, but certainly does nothing to help the throb in your core. You think about how easy it would have been to find a release when you’d stopped by your room, and now you're growing so distracted that you’re tempted to go back or to slip away into a washroom. It would be quick with how worked up you are and then maybe you’d be able to actually concentrate.

After all, how would he know if you did?

And yet a part of you knows that it wouldn’t be satisfying, not really. That same part that connects to the tugging desire to be good, that wants him to be pleased that you’ve obeyed.

So you shake your head and fall back on a trick you use to help curb your emotions when you’ve had to deal with shitty people throughout your career, starting to rhyme off words in your head - glow, tomorrow, elbow, tempo, Orinoco Flow. Gradually your mind begins to calm a bit, and after several slow breaths the ache ebbs enough that you’re able to focus back on the tanks and the clipboard in your hand.

Once you settle into a rhythm you manage to finish the inventory pretty quickly, even if can’t completely stop your mind from spinning a little, and as you lock everything up and head back to drop off the paperwork with Tom, you finally have to admit to yourself that you knew what your answer was going to be as soon as Klaue told you to decide.

Several hours later the sun has fully set when you open your door to the welcome sight of Klaue standing in the hallway.

You want to reach out for him, to grab his shirt and pull him to you, but for now you simply watch as he walks in and slowly shuts the door behind him and turns to face you.

“Did you have enough water?”

You can’t help but huff a laugh that the first thing out of his mouth is to make sure you’d listened to what he’d said, even though he must be more than aware that all you want is for him to throw you onto the bed.

“I’ve been drinking.” You assure him, though you can’t help rolling your eyes a little.

His gaze narrows, not questioning but still eyeing the half-empty bottle on your nightstand.

“And you’re feeling alright?”

“I’m feeling like I might lose my mind if you don’t touch me soon,” you all but scoff.

“You know what I mean, darling,” he warns, sharp eyes flicking down to your lips.

For the love of god, please just kiss me.

“Still good, Ulysses, I swear. And I promise I’ll let you know if I’m not.” you reply, sweetly frustrated, but you can’t help but smile at his concern.

He seems placated, but still doesn’t approach you.

“And did you work past your shift?”

You swear to god one more question and you’re just going to throw yourself at him, though this one still gives you pause.

It had been your instinct to, you can’t deny it, tempted to find more to occupy yourself so that you wouldn’t be quite so trapped with your thoughts. But you’d resisted, and once you passed off the paperwork there was no real reason to stick around.

“No. I didn’t.”

You feel a little silly at the giddiness that follows your truthful reply and the pleased grin that twitches at the corner of his mouth.

“And you waited.”

These words are lower and there is no question in them.

You’re certain that he already knows the answer, that he could tell as soon as he’d walked in the door. You’ve been antsy, unable to stop shifting on your feet, your restless hands unconsciously picking up your scarf from the table by the door and twisting the short fringe into tiny spikes during this exchange.

“I did.”

Slowly he steps toward you, plucking the scarf from your fingers and dropping it back on the table.

“I’m glad to hear it.” His voice drops, your breath hitching in anticipation when a hand lifts to finally reach for you.

But then he pauses, fingertips a hairsbreadth from your skin. Seeming to consider something he pulls back again and you have to bite back the frustrated noise that wants to escape your throat.

“Come with me,” Klaue moves away from you, nodding toward the door.

“I’d very much like to, thanks,” you think, the tingle of the near contact leaving your nerves buzzing, but while you're nearing your wit’s end you can’t help but be curious about what he’s thinking.

Steeling yourself with a deep breath you nod wordlessly, but as you walk over to grab your key card from the bedside table you make a quick decision. Following the temptation of a thought that you’d been considering earlier you slide open the drawer to find something hidden within, quickly pocketing it along with the key and your phone.

Before you’ve gone very far, though, Klaue directs you to the canteen. You can’t say that this is what you were expecting but you wait quietly, curiosity knitting your brows as he starts to work one of the machines, hot water pouring over a black tea bag as he adds a packet of honey to the dark, steaming liquid. But then instead of drinking it himself he hands it to you.

“I know you didn’t drink enough water,” he chides.

Your mouth drops open though no words come out.

You want to laugh, acutely aware that you both know the reason for the tea. Eyes wide, you glance around and even though you know that anyone who might be watching will continue on oblivious, when your eyes meet his heat flares between your thighs as you recall the tears that stained your cheeks while you gratefully licked his mess from your lips.

“Thank you.” Your heart races as you bite back a smile and finally wrap your fingers around the proffered drink, and then with a darkening look you feel a hand on the small of your back, swiftly guiding you on your way.

You really had felt fine but as you sip the hot liquid you have to admit that it feels nice as the honey soothes your throat, a frown and another swallow of your tea unable to tamp down the flutter in your chest that seems to match the sweetness on your tongue.

When you reach a familiar juncture you wonder if he wants to finish things where they’d started, but then you make a different turn and then another, leading you away from his office until eventually he stops in front of a door that appears to be down its own hallway.

The cup freezes on its path to your lips when you notice the key card in his hand and the realization suddenly hits you: These are Klaue’s quarters.

Oh shit.

It hadn’t even occurred to you as a possibility tonight. Not that you hadn’t thought about it - in fact you’d thought about it more than a few times - but you still feel like a deer caught in the headlights as the lock beeps and clicks open.

Your heart pounds as you follow him inside where you’re greeted by an insistent pinging coming from a workstation in the corner, and with an impatient sound Klaue walks to the desk with a scaled down version of what you’d seen in his office.

“Hm, I need to check on this. I’ll just be a minute.”

You barely hear him. He could have very well told you that an Asgardian ambassador and the Queen of England were waiting for a video call with him and you’re not sure that you would have reacted.

As you wait for him you force the analytical side of your brain to kick in and try to observe some of the details, noting that his room is almost identical to your own quarters, just bigger: An open layout, a closet in the same spot, but with something that could actually be considered a proper window.

The main difference is the additional space akin to an office with the desk and electronics connected to several monitors, which doesn’t really surprise you: Klaue doesn’t strike you as the type to ever really stop working - at least not for very long.

Aside from the cool light emanating from the corner where he’s sitting the room is dim and unexpectedly warm, and as you look around your eyes inexorably stray to the bed (his bed), partially made, the covers and sheets a stoney grey and roughly pulled up to where crooked pillows sit against the headboard and-

Jesus, you need to sit down.

Unfortunately the only place to sit right now would be the bed, which just makes you need to sit down even more, and-.

Oh god.

Squeezing your eyes shut you take several slow inhales in an attempt to get your pounding heart under control.

“So..”

You nearly jump at the sound of his voice, and when your eyes fly back open you see that he’s finished, the monitors now sitting dark behind him.

“Have you decided, darling?” Klaue’s words are deceptively casual, belying the heat in his eyes.

He’s back now, focused entirely on you again, chin propped against his knuckles as his hungry gaze slides over your body, and you can’t help how your own eyes immediately stray to his spread thighs and the prominent ridge between them that’s growing evident even in the low light.

“I have.” You manage to keep your voice soft, but you can’t hide the tremble in your reply.

Pushing himself up out of the chair Klaue slowly saunters over to where you still haven't moved, stopping when he's close enough that you can feel the heat of his body, invisible tendrils of need reaching out for him, desperate to close the gap.

“And?” The word is low and breathless and sets your nerves alight.

Finding it difficult to meet his eyes your teeth catch your lower lip, a shy flush working its way through your body even as your desire flares hot again.

“Well, it wasn’t easy.” You glance at him through your lashes. “I had a lot of time to think. And there are so many ways that you make me feel good.”

As you speak he finally reaches out to you, fingers grasping the hem of your shirt and tugging it up until you lift your arms to allow him to pull it over your head.

“Go on.” Klaue prompts, leaving you to swallow a moan when he suddenly drops to his knees.

Looking up at you expectantly his hands slide up the backs of your thighs, briefly cupping and squeezing the curve of your ass before moving to your waist to seek the bare skin there.

“Well, I was thinking about…letting you watch me.”

Fingertips still in their ghosting path just above your waistband.

“I thought about letting you watch how I use my fingers to make myself come when I’m alone here. Alone and wishing you could hear me every time I moan your name.”

You can see that his breathing is going rough at your words, and licking your lips you continue.

“Or maybe…using this.” Slipping your fingers into the pocket in the side of your leggings, you pull out what you’d tucked next to your phone earlier, shining silver and not much bigger than a tube of lipstick.

Brief confusion followed by a sharp look of understanding flashes across Klaue's face as he realizes what you’re holding.

“A vibrator?” His voice is intrigued, a brow arching as he takes the small device from you and turns it over in his fingers, perhaps imagining you using it, writhing in pleasure yet unsatisfied because it’s not him.

But at the same time you can tell he wasn’t expecting this, his expression coloured perhaps with a shade of disappointment. And that shouldn’t make you feel as good as it does.

He looks like he’s going to say something but holds it back, he’d laid out the parameters, after all. He’d told you that you had to decide how you were going to come, but he didn’t actually say that it had to be him.

“I thought about you watching me with this against my clit, until you decide I’ve had enough. Until I beg you to let me stop.”

You can see his mind working though he’s uncharacteristically quiet, the fingers of his free hand digging into your hip so hard it’s beginning to ache.

“But…then I changed my mind.”

“Yeah?” Klaue’s voice is strained as he seems to go still as stone, hardly seeming to breathe now, waiting for you to continue.

“I want your mouth, Ulysses.”

A look of pained relief glints across his eyes before hardening back into a vehement blue, and without waiting for you to say anything else he roughly tugs at the waistband of your leggings, peeling them halfway down your thighs, and then with a groaned sigh his lips are suddenly pressed against your clothed mound.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

Klaue’s breath is warm through the fabric of your panties, his tone indicating that it may have been less hope and more desperation.

“Tell me why.” His command is the rumble of a distant storm that sends a shudder through your body.

“Because…I couldn’t stop thinking - I can never stop thinking about it, Ulysses, oh-”

You gasp when his tongue is suddenly on you, pressing to easily part your cleft before sliding down to taste the damp spot where your arousal has soaked through the fabric.

“Is that all?” He asks with an infuriatingly coy smile, waiting for you to continue.

“I need your mouth between my legs, I need you to taste what you do to me, what just the thought of you does to me, oh my god-”

He rolls his tongue against your clit, the slick friction quickly growing rougher and more demanding.

“And because…because I can feel that you want it too, and that makes me feel really fucking good.”

Arching against his mouth your words trail off to a moan, but just as pleasure begins to swirl hot and insistent Klaue pulls away, his fingers tugging your panties down as well, and your hands brace on his shoulders as he helps you out of everything.

“There’s very little in this world I want more, darling. I love feeling how wet you get when you’re desperate for my tongue."

As you watch his fingers moving it occurs to you that he often seems intent on being the one to undress you, calloused palms running over the skin he's revealed, that's his to reveal, eyes dark and riven with need as though seeing you for the first time.

Once you’re stripped down to only your bra he pauses, hands fitting around your waist, forehead resting against your hip. Warm breath washes over your skin and although he’s so, so close to where you’re aching for his touch you find yourself pausing with him, your mind growing quiet.

It’s a different kind of quiet from the way he so deftly empties your head with his fingers or his cock, every thought supplanted by pleasure. There’s still a trembling anticipation that can't be ignored, electricity buzzing steadily through the air between you, but for a moment you both surrender to the calm, hovering in that space between heartbeats.

Your hands explore the backs of his, playing over his rings, over the leather cuff on his wrist, and when they trail over his forearms you can feel the faintest tremble in his muscles as he holds you against him.

Your fingers find a salt and pepper curl and brush it away from his face, needing to see him, the breath nearly knocked from your lungs when his shining blue gaze finds yours. He almost looks surprised, perhaps unused to your tenderness, but after a breath the crease between his brows softens as he leans into your touch.

It’s not long, though, before the air begins to crackle again and with his eyes still on yours he shifts, slowly dragging the tip of his nose along your cleft with a deep inhale and a sigh, and just that warmth against your sensitive flesh has you whimpering, the calm quickly ebbing away as your aching need swiftly flows back in.

Your hips flex forward to seek more and your breath catches in anticipation of his tongue, but instead he pulls away, and before you have a chance to protest he's standing again, reaching quickly to unclasp your bra, sensing a crack in his composure in the brief fumble of his fingers as they work the metal loops.

Now standing naked in his room Klaue moves in close enough that as you breathe the peaks of your nipples brush against his still clothed chest, and when he leans in you instinctively tilt your head.

“Tell me again.” Lips ghosting across the skin beneath your ear sends fresh heat to your core.

“I need your mouth, need you to make me come on your tongue.” You pause before adding. “As many times as you want. Please.”

“That's right, you will.” Klaue replies, his voice low and tight with need. “Now, on the bed, darling.”

Without hesitation you quickly make your way over to sit on the bed, the scent of him swirling around you as you adjust the pillows and settle back, and when you glance back up you're greeted by the intoxicating vision of Klaue standing at the foot of the bed, fingers frozen on the bottom button of his now open shirt.

“I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about you here in my bed.” He says with a rough sigh, fingers freeing the last button as his gaze slides up your legs and over the soft swell of your breasts.

“Can’t be more than the number of times I’ve thought about being here.” You admit in turn, a smirk beginning but quickly falling as you watch him peel off his shirt, muscles flexing beneath the ink that paints his chest and shoulders.

“I have to say, it seems I was right, Mot.”

“About what?” You frown.

“About how lovely you’d look, right there.”

Caught off guard by the sweetness in his words a reply falters on your lips, and you squeeze your thighs together as though it might help you to hide from the way he makes you feel. But of course he notices.

“Would you spread your legs for me, please?”

Biting your lip you meet his eyes and begin to slowly straighten your legs, sliding them down towards the foot of the bed before letting your knees fall open. At first it’s just enough to give him a teasing peek but the heat of his gaze has you helpless to keep yourself from him.

Spreading your legs wider you pull your knees back and open, and when the cool air hits you exposed skin you’re immediately aware of just how wet you are, and not just your sex - you can feel the insides of your thighs have become damp with your arousal as well and judging by the look on his face he can see it.

Slowly you shift down a bit more, giving a little upward rock of your hips for his benefit as you tuck one hand up behind your head, letting the other rest across your hip, attempting to look much calmer than you feel.

Following to where you’ve made a lovely display for him on his bed he removes the last of his layers, freeing the deliciously thick curve of his cock to hang heavy and twitching between his thighs, and standing above you he tilts his head appraisingly. A flush of heat crawls through every inch of your body as he takes a moment to drink in the sight of you, then slowly sits down on the edge of the bed..

Reaching out a hand he lets his fingertips alight on your knee before dragging them up over the skin of your inner thigh, his eyes staying fixed along the path they take, watching intently as your muscles flex and quiver beneath his touch.

“Not my fingers, then? You’re sure?” Klaue teases, smirking when your hips cant up against the air. With significant effort you manage to drag your thoughts away from how good it feels, how easy it would be to let him relieve the ache in your core.

“YesI’msure,” you blurt in a rush, quickly reaching down to stop his hand where it hovers inches from your sex.

“Both hands.” He says quietly, eyes flicking above your head in explanation. “And keep them there. Understood?”

“Yes. I understand, Ulysses.” You nod, the vice of your fingers slowly releasing him.

Once you’ve tucked your hands up and between the two pillows you’re resting against, he seems satisfied and moves the rest of the way onto the bed, positioning his body over yours.

He’s warm and heavy and you can feel the grin when his lips find the hollow of your throat, your hips beginning to roll slowly beneath him, acutely aware of his hard cock nudging against the inside of your thigh.

“I’ve thought about you here like this for so long.” Klaue murmurs, his tongue tasting your skin, trailing slow kisses up one side of your neck and then down the other, making his way down your chest before pausing at your breasts.

Then you think you hear something else, something quieter, whispered against your heartbeat.

“Want to keep you here.”

But you're distracted by his mouth again before you can really register the words, overwhelmed by how you’re already trembling and clenching just from the drag of his lips across your inflamed skin, and maybe you imagined it anyway.

When his tongue flicks over your nipple none of your thoughts don’t stand a chance, a moan immediately sliding from deep in your chest. He spends just enough time on each to leave them peaked and aching, but when he starts to move further down you stop him.

“No, wait! More please, please..”

You look down at him, breathless and imploring, arching your chest up to encourage him, sighing with relief when his tongue returns to swirl over the pebbled flesh, and soon you’re moaning again as he alternates from one to the other, kissing and sucking until you’re writhing beneath the solid weight of him.

Just when you think you can’t take any more he holds a nipple between his lips, just the very tip of his tongue flicking quickly until an ache starts to build deep in your belly, everything growing hot and tight and then suddenly your back is arching hard as you let out a broken cry, and while his tongue continues to work a hand cups your other breast, his thumb circling there in a matching rhythm as your cunt clenches around nothing.

It doesn’t have the same peaking intensity but it still feels like you're coming, like if he keeps doing this you just might, and only when he pulls away does the desperate tension finally release from your muscles with a gasp.

“Another night I’m going to find out how many times I can make you do that.” He looks up at you, his expression more than a little smug. “But right now I think it’s time I made good on my promise, don’t you?”

You’re unable to respond with more than a nod, still panting and shuddering as he resumes his path downward. Your skin shines in the low light as his lips and tongue lave along your stomach and over your hips, and as he finally reaches the juncture of your thighs Klaue adjusts himself, setting there so that he’s lying with his erection pressed firmly into the mattress.

He pauses then, using his thumbs to gently spread you open for him, his mouth hovering just over your aching sex to let you feel his breath before you feel his touch.

“God, you are soaked for me, aren’t you?”

Before you can form any kind of reply he presses his lips against you, kissing just above your swollen bud, teasingly close to where you need him so badly that all you can do is whine for it.

“What was that, my darling?” He prompts you, gently taunting.

“I need your mouth on my pussy, please I needohhgod-”

He cuts you off with a flick of his tongue, then another, at first grazing you gently but then unable to resist he licks a hungry stripe through your folds, and the sudden slick warmth combined with the vibration of his moan through your cunt has you greedily rolling your hips.

Watching him as his tongue continues to move between your legs you can sense the tension in his shoulders gradually softening, that tension he holds as part of his natural state, ever curled and ready to react drains away as he gives in to your honeyed musk, his arms sliding around your thighs to hold you snug against his mouth.

You want to reach down, to run your hands over his neck and shoulders and through his curls, but you resist, gripping the pillow tighter in an effort to keep them where they are, not daring to take the chance that he might stop.

But then he does pull off of you suddenly, silently looking up at you with heavy lidded eyes.

“What- what’s wrong?” You pant, confused and trying not to be concerned.

“You’re not a dream, are you?” Klaue murmurs, resting his cheek against the inside of your thigh, plush beneath the scratch of his beard. He watches you for a long moment as though he were a parched man in the desert afraid that you were a mirage, and if he’s not careful he might lose sight of you.

“I don’t think so?” Relief floods you and you laugh softly.

“No. You taste too good to be a dream.”

Seeming reassured his mouth is on you again, lips soft and warm as they slowly, slowly close around your clit, and the gentle suction he adds now has your breath stuttering in your chest.

Your body begins to tremble, and seeming to anticipate it his arms tighten around your thighs just as you buck, keeping you in place as everything grows achingly bright and you arch against his mouth until you’re crying out, the pillowcase twisting in your fists as his hum of approval around your clit finally sends your orgasm surging through you hard and swift, pent up hours of thwarted desire finally finding its release.

And even when the pulsing waves begin to soften, he has no intention of stopping.

At times it feels like he’s trying to tease you apart at the seams, at others it seems to want to devour you all at once, and while Klaue has never been shy about exploring you he seems to relish taking his time tonight, soaking in your heat, teasing and licking every inch of you to find new patterns that make you sigh and roll your hips.

Your desperate pleas grow less and less articulate as his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips so that he can grind your cunt against his tongue, and as overwhelming as it is you find yourself sinking into it. Letting the only thing you need be his mouth against the soft place between your legs you eventually lose track of how much time passes, simply focusing on the susurrus of heat and pleasure that flows out from your center as the sheets below you become soaked with your release.

Eventually when you start to whine and try to pull away Klaue sees fit to give you respite, suckling instead at the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh until bruises begin to bloom there, and as his lips drag slowly across your skin you take the chance to watch him, your eyes catching the movement of his hips, his perfect ass flexing as he slowly ruts against the bed.

He must be achingly hard now, and you find yourself breathless at the thought of the stain he’s leaving on the sheets beneath him. Fresh heat spreads through your core as you imagine how his cock is twitching and leaking for you, and it’s not long before he notices your needy movements starting to seek him out again, eliciting a whimper when he presses a soft kiss against your clit.

This time, though, he waits, letting his mouth simply rest gently against you, warm and soft and shockingly patient, until just as he senses you starting to fully relax he suddenly sucks your clit between his lips and you’re gasping at the heated pressure around your bundle of nerves, his fluttering tongue unrelenting until you’re his name is the only sound your mouth can form.

Even now, sweaty and blissfully exhausted as he chases the last twitches of pleasure from your sex, you’re surprised that you can still feel the heady swirl of need humming through your tender flesh. And yet, although you have no real desire to pull away, and even though he told you that he was going to decide when you were finished, the thought still tugs from the back of your mind that he’s given you enough.

“You don't...don’t have to keep going.” You manage to stammer between panted breaths.

Pulling his mouth off of you Klaue looks up, his beard and full lips glistening with your juices.

“If you think I wouldn't spend the entire night with my mouth against you warm, sweet cunt." He punctuates this with a firm lick that has a moan lilting in your throat. "Then I'm afraid I'm going to have to work a little harder to turn off that mind of yours."

It's tempting, god it's so tempting to let him continue. You can feel yourself growing dangerously addicted to his unabashed hunger between your legs, yet you can’t deny that there’s a growing need for something else.

Because he hasn’t even put his fingers inside of you, only his tongue occasionally dipping down to tease at your entrance, and you’re fucking aching for more, imagining the arch and flex of his back as he fucks into you instead of wasting it on the mattress.

So you tilt your hips up to give him a more open view of where you’re dripping for him, a soft whine in your throat.

“What's the matter, darling? Tell me.”

“You said- you said if I was good…”

“Yes?” His eyes are fixed on yours as he mouths at the sensitive crease where your thigh meets your hip.

“You said I could come on your cock. And I waited. Like you said.”

“Yes, you did.” He pauses, considering. “But you were a tease, too, weren’t you? Pretending you wanted your little toy.”

Shit. Of course he’d figured you out. Your mind spins quickly, trying to figure out a way to keep what you’d been hoping for from slipping away.

“But I wasn’t lying, I did think about that.”

“Oh, I’m sure you did. But it was never going to be what you asked for, was it?”

You suck at your lower lip to keep from pouting and you have to swallow the lump forming in your throat.

What the hell has this man done to you? You’d lost count of how many times he’d made you come already and yet you’re on the verge of tears at the thought of not getting to fuck him tonight. But you hardly get to see him, after all. It’s not fair.

“No,” you finally admit meekly. “Ohh ‘m sorry.”

You whimper when the tip of a thick finger begins circling your entrance, but as soon as you tilt your hips to try to encourage him deeper he pulls his hand back.

“No, please, I need you.”

“Would you like to be a little more specific for me?” Klaue asks, watching your face intently as his finger slowly returns, and you know he can feel the flutter of your muscles as he dips teasingly into you.

“I need you inside me.” Saying it out loud sets an invisible spark alight, pushing out thoughts of anything else as your words continue to tumble out in a rush.

“God, do you have any idea how perfect your cock is? How wet I get when I think about you stretching me open? And I think about it it every fucking day. I need you to fuck me, Ulysses, need you to fill me with your cock and your cum, please I need you so fucking bad, I need you, I-”

The last words are cut off when your voice hitches, fighting to hold back the tears that prick hot at the corners of your eyes.

Desperate with need you’re only dimly aware that he’s moving, shifting himself to the head of the bed so that his back is against the pillows and then he’s tugging you up, causing you to let out a startled “Oh!” as your hands quickly move to catch yourself on his chest, quickly reminded of how strong he is as powerful arms lift you until you’re straddling his lap.

The thick length of him is hot and achingly hard, and he sucks a breath through his teeth when he slides through your folds, parting your cleft until the head, flushed and drooling, bumps against your swollen clit.

“Since you asked so nicely.” Klaue hums with a satisfied grin.

You’re nearly giddy with relief as you feel another upward flex of his hips, a heated slide of skin against slippery skin, and then you press your mouth against his, moaning when you taste yourself on his lips. He responds quickly, his tongue delving into your mouth, your kiss deep and full of desire as the rock of both of your hips grows more insistent.

Bracing more firmly on your knees you lift up, allowing him to slide further down until your kiss is broken by a moan when his cock catches at your entrance, your muscles already trying to clench around him.

Impatient now you reach a hand down between your legs to grip him, gasping at how hot he is beneath your fingers. He gives you a stuttered groan when you drag the mixture of his precum and your arousal along his length before shifting to line him up with your opening, and then finally you drop your hips firmly down.

Your head tips back with a sigh as you revel in the delicious ache of his girth slowly nudging into you, his mouth immediately moving to nip at the column of your neck, whispering praises against your skin.

“Needed my cock, hmm?” Klaue's voice pitches low. “That's good. I want there to be nothing else you can think about. Don't want you satisfied unless you're full of me.”

You feel a fresh surge of arousal at his words, your slick already dripping down his cock as you rock down harder, desperate to fit him inside of you.

“Yes, fuck, you feel so good. You're the only one who's ever made me want to beg, Ulysses.”

His eyes darken at your admission, groaning as your walls clench around him.

“I'm a lucky man, then, because you're so beautiful when you beg, klein Mot.”

Bliss continues to spool out through your body, and you’ve been so distracted by the sweet relief that you’re just realizing that he isn’t moving, that there’s a tension in his thighs and in the muscles of his jaw as he fights to keep himself still, focused only on watching you split yourself open on him.

Keeping your pace slow you allow yourself to luxuriate in every sensation, in the ridges of his cock as he slides deeper into you, the heat of broad hands roaming over you skin, dimpling the flesh of your thighs and then sliding to grip your ass, spreading you obscenely as you work yourself further down his length.

You’ve never been able to watch him like this and you’re nearly delirious from the sight, from the way he reacts to every flutter of your pussy around him, his arms flexing as his grip on you tightens in an effort to hold himself back. As you continue to ride him your own hands can’t help sliding greedily over the firm muscles of his shoulders, over the hair that covers his chest and belly and then down to where, although he’s softening with age, you’re still you’re keenly aware of the strength that resides beneath your fingers.

But as good as this feels there’s a frustration building, because although it’s gotten easier to take him he’s still so much, and you’re struggling to take him as deep as you want.

And judging by the look in his eyes, he can sense it.

“More,” you plead, the movement of your hips growing more insistent.

“What's the matter?” He asks with a wolfish glint of gold. “You said you needed my cock, darling. So take it.”

His bitten words are harsh, lightning crackling behind his teeth.

A surge of adrenaline courses through your veins as your hands slide around to grip the back of his neck in search of more purchase, fingernails digging crescents into his skin as you rock down harder. You can feel a low growl that you slowly realize is coming from your own chest as you desperately work to take all of him, and determined now you don't stop until your hips are snug against his, every inch of you finally stretched and spread open on his cock.

Breathing through the ache of it you take a moment to savour the prize of him fully buried in you, moaning when you give a firm roll of your hips and feel the slick friction of coarse hair at the base of him pressing and dragging against your folds, your eyes slipping closed with a blissful smile.

“Look at you.” Klaue rumbles, his fingers reaching to brush sweat-damp strands of hair away from your face. “That's my good girl.”

Tugged back by his words your eyes flutter open again as you rise up and slowly drop back down, your breathing mirroring one another as you find a rhythm. When you begin to add a rolling motion in time with each downward plunge you’re gratified when his mouth drops open, head tilting back to knock against the headboard with a groaned curse, though he still watches you through dark lashes, taking in the pleased curve of your lips and the bounce of your tits as your movements start to grow rougher.

Because you’re not sure if it's the angle from being on top and him sitting up like this but every slide of his cock into is you drawing an intoxicating flush of pleasure, tension swiftly coiling deep in your belly and licking a path up your spine as your breath comes in shorter and shorter gasps, and already being so overstimulated you’re unprepared for how quickly you can feel your climax approaching.

“Fuck, that’s it.” His voice is rough with hard fought restraint. “Use my cock like the needy little thing you are.”

Sweat beads on your skin, threads of pleasure stringing tight as the first inevitable surge begins to build, but then your thighs flex and your back arches and with the change in angle and the way your muscles are starting to tighten around him he’s suddenly slipping from where he’d been perfectly rooted deep inside you and you can feel the heated pleasure pulling away.

You were so close that you can’t get out anything more than a mixture of frustrated pleas, but then his voice cuts through the haze, dark and driving straight to your core.

“No.” Klaue growls. “Stay down.”

Gripping your hips tight he finally takes control, a hoarse cry ripped from your throat as he roughly forces his cock back into your clenching cunt, and startled by the sound that escapes you bite your lip hard, trying to hold it back.

“None of that,” he grits. “You're going to let me hear you, yeah? Because those lovely noises you make, they’re mine. The way my name sounds when you come, that's for me.”

Both of his arms encircle your waist and then you’re surrounded by him, by his grip, his voice, his musk, all of it demanding your pleasure, and your mouth drops open as you succumb to his command with a ragged moan.

Your thighs are burning now as you ride him, but with the edges of your climax gathering again you wouldn’t stop even if you could, and this time when your muscles tense and you buck suddenly against his grip he’s ready, powerful arms holding you in place.

You cling to his shoulders, desperate to hold on to something as you feel yourself tipping, the nearly unbearable friction against your clit drawing everything to a bright point, a silvery haze creeping in at the edges of your vision as you hover over the line between blissful agony and release.

“Going to come so hard for me, aren’t you?” His rasping words are more a plea than a question, rough from the rhythm of your hips as you grind helplessly against him. “So fucking beautiful.”

Finally you gasp a lungful of air as though hitting a shock of cold water and then the breath is forced from your lungs by a sob, tears you hadn't realized were pooling in your eyes spilling over as your orgasm crashes through you, his name falling in a tattered cry from your lips.

Your inhibitions are completely lost as you fuck yourself on his cock, chasing wave after wave of pleasure that rolls through your body and you can feel the rush of your release slicking the skin between you as you fall utterly apart, the heat of it only just starting to ebb when his gruff words bring you back to him, cutting through the din of ecstasy.

“Fuck, Mot don't stop. Need to come in your pussy, I'm-” Klaue stammers, his voice cracking with need.

“Ohh please,” you can only moan through hitched sobs.

Not able to thrust into you the way he normally wants he instead grips you tight, bracing his heels against the mattress and rutting his hips up as best he can while roughly grinding you down, his eyes squeezing shut as he focuses on keeping himself buried as deep inside of you as he can.

“Look at me,” you plead, your voice thick with tears and want.

Klaue’s eyes snap to yours, bright with the flame of a sapphire sacrament and after a few more broken thrusts he jerks beneath you, the muscles of his thighs flexing against the insides of yours, his bruising grip holding you down until relief floods his features and you feel the first hard throb of his cock, your name a honeyed plea on his lips as he comes deep inside you.

The tension in your body has finally begun to soften and as you regain some control you force yourself to hold as still as you can, wanting to feel everything, to feel every pulse as he spills himself inside you, soaking in the delicious sound of every grunted sigh as the thick warmth of his cum fills you.

He continues to twitch and throb inside you as you both catch your breath, large hands beginning to soothe over your back and sides and then back down to your hips, a satisfied hum rolling through his chest as his touch follows the lazy cant of your hips.

Sweat damp skin slides against skin and your moan matches his when he grips your ass and rocks you slowly up and then back down on his still stiff length, and though he hisses at the overstimulation he does it again, and then again, until wet sounds are filling the room as you writhe languidly against each other, the sticky slick of both of your leaking out from where you’re deliciously swollen and sore.

“God, the only thing better than the sweet taste of you, darling, is how pretty your pussy sounds when you’re full of my cum.”

“Jesus, Ulysses.” Your reply is half moan, half delirious laughter. “You’re going to kill me, I swear.”

He sucks a breath at the flex of your muscles around him when you laugh, though he still looks rather pleased with himself.

“Just returning the favour,” Klaue teases, though there's a sweet edge to his smug grin.

Giving him a watery smile you tuck your head down to rest your damp cheek against the slope of his shoulder, and when you start to work your hands between his back and the pillow he adjusts so that you can slide them around his broad waist.

Gradually you both grow still, the only movement for several moments is the rise and fall of your chests as you quietly rest against one another, the claw on the cord around his neck pressing into you to leave a mirrored indentation in your skin.

Slowly you nuzzle your cheek along the scruff of his beard, seeking every bit of contact he'll give you, relaxing further when the weight of his arms settles around your waist, and as you sit wrapped in each other you allow for the thought that maybe he's just as reluctant as you to untwine just yet.

And that maybe you did hear him say it earlier.

“Want to keep you here.”

Still, you don't want to overthink what he meant, so for now you let yourself simply enjoy this, here, tracing the salt of inked skin along his neck with your lips, though perhaps still hoping that, for tonight at least, he’ll want to keep you a little longer.

When you do eventually separate you're both still content not to get up right away, bodies relaxed and half pressed against one another, a hand splayed across a waist, hip and thigh meeting.

You're not sure when he does get up but as you drift in and out of sleep you hear Klaue in the shower, although you have no interest in moving yourself, not caring about the mess between your thighs enough to do anything about it just yet. You might even admit that you're rather enjoying it.

Eventually he returns to where you lie in a half-twilight, your eyes blinking open when the mattress dips beneath his weight.

“You don't have to leave, darling, but I do need to go,” he says. “I won't be able to come back tonight, but you’re welcome to stay as long as you'd like.”

Pushing yourself up you begin to protest but his mouth quickly finds yours, silencing you with a swipe of his tongue. The kiss is firm and slow, a hand moving to cup your jaw, working with his lips to guide you back down to the pillow.

“It's really no problem to go back,” you start when he releases you, “I can-”

He kisses you again deeper this time, a little more demanding, coaxing your mouth open as his tongue slides against yours until you’re wondering what your reason was for arguing at all, and when he releases you this time you can only look up at him with a glassy-eyed smile.

“Rest.” He murmurs, a thumb drifting across your cheek as you nod.

Before he stands to go, though, he draws your attention to something in his hand that glints in the low light.

“I'll be keeping this here, by the way.”

Your mouth forms a silent “o” as you watch him tuck your vibrator into the drawer of his night table and slide it shut.

“I forgot about that.” You whisper with a bashful smile.

“So did I,” he admits, his fingers tugging down the sheet that's covering you to reveal your naked form. “And when I did remember, I wasn't really in the mood to share.”

His hand coaxes a knee open, his jaw clenching when he catches the mess still shining between your legs.

“But you might not be so lucky in the future.”

There's a glint of a warning when his eyes return to yours, but before you can say anything you’re gasping when he suddenly slides two fingers into you, thrusting deep before pulling back out and you moan when, instead of offering them to you, he takes them into his own mouth, a satisfied hum rumbling through his chest at the taste of you mixed with him.

You’re still staring at him half stunned when he stands back up, licking his lips as his eyes sweep appraisingly over your body, as though he's trying to commit the image of you like this to memory.

“And you say I'm a tease. Do you have to go??” You try not to sound too needy, though you're pretty sure the way your hips are shifting again gives you away.

“I'm afraid I do, darling. Believe me, if I didn't...” He gives a rough sigh, frustration plain on his face. “But I'm here for two more days, and I will be taking advantage of them.”

“I certainly hope so,” you reply, a lazy smile curving your lips.

He gives you one last look as he closes behind him, and almost immediately you can feel sleep starting to steal over you again. You don't plan on staying very long, though, and as you turn over and tug the sheet back up you tell yourself you’re just going to close your eyes for a few more minutes, however it's several hours later when you open them again and realize that it’s now late (or early, rather).

Once you manage to orient yourself in the unfamiliar space you have to laugh, entirely unsurprised at this point that you’d passed out almost immediately.

After showering you actually don't rush to leave, but strange as it is to be here without him you find yourself unable to resist the chance to observe his room a little more closely.

While this obviously isn't a permanent space it still has details of him scattered around; you'd noted a razor and shaving bar next to the sink, one of his khaki shirts hanging on a hook in the bathroom.

You take a peek at a shelf by the door, full of books that for the most part you don't recognize or aren't in English, but you do spot Mary Shelley's “Frankenstein”, a small wood carved stingray next to it.

Hanging on the wall beside the shelf there's a framed photo of the ocean that looks like it was taken by a 35mm camera. Is it from somewhere he's been? Did he take it himself?

Sitting back down on the bed you intend to check your messages but your mind still wanders. You wonder if he does have somewhere that’s…maybe not home, but a place where pieces of him might be a little more embedded, that looks and smells familiar when he returns from time away. Somewhere that he rests.

You know it's time to head back to your room so you can get ready for the morning shift but you’re hesitant to get up just yet. Glancing at the bed and the mussed sheets, your hand slides over the pillow he'd been leaning against, acutely aware of the scent of him surrounding you, and without really thinking you lean down and press your nose into the creased fabric.

Immediately you're overwhelmed by the heady scent of him that infiltrates your senses: His musk beneath the soap, sweat and a faint trace of oil, all tied up with the still present scent of your mixed arousal, and it's only when you take a shuddering breath that you realize you’d been holding back a sob.

Sitting back up your hand quickly flies to your mouth, breath caught in your chest as you blink away the tears.

Shit.

The intensity of it honestly doesn't surprise you anymore, Klaue makes you feel - seems to revel in making you feel - more than you ever thought you could, teasing away the layers, revealing pieces of you that you didn’t even realize had been hidden.

“I don’t know what this is.”

“And I don’t know if I can tell you.”

None of this feels any clearer now yet there's a certainty settling in your chest, and it feels like that part of you that's been unsteady since you’d met Klaue in Utrecht is finally starting to right itself. And at the same time, maybe for the first time, you feel something unlocking in you, opening to the possibility of perhaps letting someone else help you find your balance.

So although you have no idea where this path leads, you're starting to accept that you aren't going to be able to stop until you find out.

AN: Once again, thank you so much for reading! 🥰 As I said this next chapter is going to be a beast (already trying to talk myself out of splitting it up again if it comes to that, lol), but I'm looking forward to continuing to exploring things between these two idiots, and I hope you'll come along for the ride!

#salvation is a deep dark well #bringin' home the rain part two #ulysses klaue #ulysses klaue x f reader #ulysses klaue x reader #ulysses klaue x you #ulysses klaue smut #reader insert #x reader #mcu fanfiction

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johnslittlespoon · 6 months

Note

wait do u remember how a while ago u posted that post about how this is all brain rot but when u consider canon and buck’s potential childhood trauma u don’t think some of this stuff is in character for them? and u also wrote their characters differently in ur handjob bunk sharing fic so what are ur thoughts regarding sex for them IN canon?

i honestly see bucky as being the one who usually takes charge just cause he’s more experienced

YES i do remember! had to scroll so far but this is the post <3

i also just accidentally got kinda into my thoughts on general sex in canon in this post tonight too oops!

i flip flop on this so much i swear but it really just depends on the mood of whatever sex scene i'm writing/brainrotting about lol so apologies for my inconsistencies!

in terms of initiating sex, i think a lot of the time that falls to john just because he's so open about that sort of thing, and i think he's a lot more sex–focussed than gale even though they're both obviously head over heels and very very attracted to one another. john is more likely to drag gale off somewhere spur of the moment and drop to his knees/push gale to his knees, more likely to blatantly make eyes at him across the room or feel him up under a table; he's riskier and more obvious in his advances, he acts a lot more impulsively.

when gale initiates, it's usually a build up, stringing john along throughout the day with strategically placed comments and lingering glances on john's hands or thighs or lips, careful touches and grabs when he's sure no one else is looking, etc. more calculated, less impulsive 'oh i just got horny and i need to get john alone or i will Die' type of moments (john on the other hand– very acquainted with experiencing these moments.)

i think when they first get together/start hooking up, john does take charge because like you said, he's more experienced, so he's more confident, knows how to sweet talk gale out of his pants and into his bed and get him worked up and comfortable with him. i wouldn't say he goes so far as to dom when they're first falling into the swing of things, because i think gale is particular about control and kinda freaks out if he feels like he doesn't have any; it takes a while for him to get comfortable with feeling vulnerable in sex, and john respects that and is so very patient with him, he's happy to have gale in anyway gale will let him.

i don't think any dom/sub type of thing would be involved for a while, just a lot of figuring each other out and seeing what the other is comfortable with and what gets them most worked up. i see gale as being more comfortable giving up control to john when john is bottoming because gale feels less vulnerable when he's topping, so it's easier for him to get out of his head and let john call the shots and pace the two of them. and i don't see john as having a lot of hard nopes when it comes to sex, at least not pre–stalag, so he's generally comfortable with having or relinquishing control, with roughing up or being roughed up.

sometimes he's worked up from watching gale's pretty little waist across the pub as he talks to the others, from having to watch soft pink lips work around a toothpick, gum, rims of bottles, etc all day. if gale notices this and plays into it, a rare moment of acting up because he thinks it's hot when john gets all needy and possessive, john would definitely slip into the position of control when he finally gets gale alone, being a bit more rough than usual and manhandling gale and letting his mouth run as he fucks him.

(not sure on degrading though– i don't get the vibe gale would like anything other than some light comments like "you're so desperate, it's cute" or maybe more possessive–type degradation, like "my pretty whore" type of thing. i feel like humiliation would usually make him uncomfortable in a not–fun way, and insulting degradation would be a hard no because he gets too in his own head about it.)

i've gone so off course lol what else is new <3 but yeah in general, john being more experienced, i see him taking charge when they first start trying things together just because gale doesn't even know where to start and he's too nervous to fully initiate, but as time goes on and they get more relaxed with each other, the dynamic probably changes and there's a lot more back and forth and gale gets more confident with making demands and decisions. :^)

#but watch this continue to change from fic to fic lol #listen sometimes i start a fic a certain way and then halfway thru i'm like oh. physically just felt the dynamic shift HSDGJK #sometimes it's a single line of dialogue that does it and all of a sudden the whole course of the fic is changed #but ykw it keeps things interesting bc even i don't know where my words are going half the time! <3 #buck x bucky #buckbucky #johnslittlespoon brainrot #johnslittlespoon asks #johnslittlespoon spicy

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starkittyn · 1 year

Note

hiiiiiiiiiii <3

11, 61, 65, 67, 70~

hiiiiiiii bby <333

11. "Do you ever want to get married?"

marriage is something i've had a complex outlook on for a long time, i used to think it was silly for people to seal the proof of their love with a contract, as if love and loyalty in themselves weren't enough. plus i'm just naturally skeptical of marriage as an industry lol, diamond rings and lavish weddings and the like, it's hard for me to ignore how financially exploitive the whole thing can be. and, i suppose there's this stubbornly independent streak in my nature that dislikes the idea of being bound and beholden to someone "till death do we part" or whatever. but, over time i guess i've gone soft, because the inherent romanticism of it all has sorta won me over, hehe. symbolic gesture though it may be, for the right person (people?) i would willingly give myself up in such a way, and i like that thought <3

61. "What is the first thing you notice in someone?"

superficially, their face and hairstyle!! but more importantly, i try to get a read on how they think and express themselves. i try not to jump to *too* many conclusions but i have to admit i can be a little judgy out of the gate, lmao.

65. "What is your favorite foreplay routine?"

erm, my favorite is when there *is* no routine!! i get bored when sex is the same thing over and over, so mixing it up and being spontaneous, surprising me a little, that's what i like~

67. "What is your idea of the perfect date?"

hmm...going somewhere beautiful and fascinating i've never been to before, with someone i love, pointing out all the things that interest us, taking our time soaking it all in, holding hands and joking around and enjoying the adventure together <3

70. "What turns you on?"

people who are bright, insightful, sincere with their feelings, can get me giggling, have passions and ambitions, think for themselves, and take a genuine interest in who i am (and not merely what they want me to be). flattery goes a long way with me lol, i like when people feed my ego and make me feel special. paradoxically i like some possessiveness too, while being very insistent on having the space to explore my own fixations...i think more than anything i just get turned on by intimacy and connection at the deepest level, someone i don't have to pretend with even slightly, someone who i know will always be there for me the way i am for them, someone i can tell the worst things about myself and have the security of knowing they'll love me all the same. that's kinda what i've needed all my life, and i feel like i've finally found it~♡

#ask stuffs #bleachpuppy

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starlightsearches · 2 years

Note

Your headcanon about Eddie actually wanting to be babied a bit is SO good you’re so damn smart! Just letting him rest his pretty head on your tits and stroking him off real slow, going ‘good boy’ and ‘that’s it, honey’. The pleasure combined with feeling so safe and loved hits him like a truck and-I’m broken. My brain is a slushie over this. Need to take care of man need to put him in jar with holes poked in the lid like a firefly

Let Me Be Good to You

My love, the inspiration you have provided for me is simply *chef's kiss* 🤌 I've thought about it every day since you've shared it with me, and I hope you enjoy this little blurb I've written in response 💖

Please let me know if you liked this—comments always make my week! Requests are open if you'd like to send something in or scream your thoughts about this perfect boy 🥰

Eddie x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: no spoilers, 18+ only!, hand job (m recieving), spit as lube, cum eating, eddie is self-deprecating, PRAISE KINK, pet names, veeeeeeeeerrrrrry soft dom/sub dynamics if you're looking for it, idk if it's good or not I'm just horny lol

Eddie flops down on the mattress beside you with a dramatic sigh, burying his face in your stuffed ewok. He made fun of you for buying it in the moment, but you know it's his favorite—always in his arms whenever he's stretched long across your bed. Out of habit, your fingers stroke through his hair, scratching your nails at the scalp the way you know he likes.

"Rough day?"

Eddie nods, his big eyes finding yours over the horizon of your pillows, tough exterior discarded along with his jacket on your floor.

You lay back so you're at his level, pressing a kiss to the bridge of his nose. "Wanna talk about it?"

He pauses, chewing on the words. It doesn't surprise you—Eddie lets most things roll off his shoulders, but when he gets hit by something, it hits hard.

"It's nothing, just, uh,"—he flips onto his back, posed like a corpse with the ewok trapped under his arms— "I'm probably gonna flunk Mrs. O'Donnell's class again, 'cause I . . . I failed her last test."

"What?"

It's literally the last thing you'd ever expected him to say. You'd helped him study for that test yourself, gone over the practice problems with until you were sure he could could do them blind-folded, underwater, and half-dead. The stupidest thing was that you didn't really need to do that much prep; Eddie was good at math. He was good at a lot of things when it came to school . . . he just had a hard time getting himself to focus.

His big, brown eyes are glassy with tears, pointed at the ceiling, unblinking, so they won't stain his cheeks. "She wouldn't even grade it. Said I cheated."

His voice is soft, and small—quieter than you're used to. You, on the other hand, are ready to explode.

"Are you shitting me?"

You're off the bed—leaping over him—grabbing your keys, balling up a jacket in your hand, about to march to the door before he grabs at your wrist, pulling you back to him with a few stumbling steps.

"Babe, where are you going?"

"To the school. I'm gonna give that raggedy bitch a piece of my mind."

He pulls you back down against the mattress, slipping your keys from your hand and tossing them onto your bedside table. You're still thinking about escape—until he pulls you tight against his chest, bodies curled around each other, legs intertwined. You've always been a little helpless when you're trapped in Eddie's arms.

"You don't have to do that, honey. My counselor said she'd talk to Mrs. O'Donnell, at least convince her to let me retake it."

"That's so unfair," you sigh, limply punching at one of the pillows. Against your best attempts, he's kneaded the anger right out of you, the rings on his fingers catching along your shoulder blade with every stroke of his hand.

"It's whatever," Eddie shrugs, like the action could make him care less, "she's always hated me. And it's not like she's wrong. I'd think I was too stupid to do it on my own, if I were her."

Stupid. God, you couldn't hate that fucking word more. You shift onto your hip, sick to your stomach that he could even think that way.

"Don't say that."

He's still not looking at you, chewing at his bottom lip, fiddling with the hem of your top. "Why not? It's true."

"No it isn't, Eddie." You've got his face sandwiched in both of your hands, begging him to look you in the eyes, even if he doesn't want you to see him cry. "You're smart, Eddie. You are. I don't give a fuck what Mrs. O'Donnell thinks."

The tears are there, pooling against the junctions of your thumbs. It breaks your fucking heart to think how little he hears those words—not from teachers, not from people in his classes, probably not even from his friends. Wayne was a good guy, but school had never really been all that great for him either. He wouldn't even think a worry like that would be on Eddie's mind.

Eddie's voice is wet, lips trembling around the word. "Really?"

"Yes, really,"—you're getting a little enthusiastic, but you mean it, and you can't temper your praise when he needs it so badly—"of course you're smart. You're so, so, so smart, Eddie."

He laughs weakly, pushing at your shoulder when you start to pepper him with kisses, but you know his heart's not in it, petting along the side of your face, warm fingers cupped around the back of your neck.

Big eyes locked onto yours, he couldn't hide from you if he tried. "Say it again."

You press your lips against his temple, punctuating each compliment with another gentle kiss. "You are smart. And you're fucking talented. And kind. And so, so good to me."

Your path leads you to his lips, capturing them against yours, pressing him so far back into the pillows that strands of his hair are tickling at your cheeks. His hand comes to rest at your jaw, the bottom of his palm just barely brushing against your skin, like he's still not sure if he should be allowed to touch you. You lean in to his hand.

Eddie kisses you the way he knows you like, darting the tip of his tongue against your lips before upping the pressure, moaning against your skin. His free hand travels along your spine, fingers striking up a melody that only he can hear.

And then he grips tight at your waist, and things are decidedly less sweet, fingers carving indents in your side as you shift more of your weight on top of him, chest to chest, the top of your thigh dragging along his crotch.

Eddie groans at the feeling, a twitch in his hips, looking for a little more friction.

You're gonna give him more than a little.

Petting a hand over his thigh, you slide closer to the distended fabric of his jeans, just barely stroking the edge of your thumb across the shape of him, feeling his cock throb for you through the thick fabric.

Spit spreads across his chin as you whisper, his head pressed back and eyes clenched tight. "Let me take care of you, baby."

Eddie nods—your teasing has taken the words out of his mouth, but he's putty in your hands, compliant as you get comfortable against your headboard, pulling him into the space between your legs.

Gentle fingers brush a few strands of his hair away from your face as his head comes to rest against your shoulder, his wet breaths at your neck. Eddie stares at the soft patch of skin just below your earlobe, vision going dark at the edges when you slip your hand inside his unbuttoned pants.

He sighs, lifting his back as he shifts into your grip, coming back down to rest with his head pillowed against your chest.

"Comfortable?" you ask, meeting his eyes with a sly smile. He's got a pretty little flush in his cheeks, dark eyelashes framing his big doe-eyes, looking up at you with a kind of disbelief you'd never understand.

He nods, flushing darker when you press a kiss to the top of his head.

Eddie's cock is pretty, and thick—dark red when you slip it from the confines of his boxers and bring it into the light. He whines when you let go, but the sound is cut off in his throat when he hears your spit meet the palm of your hand.

"How does that feel?"

You're coating the base of him, stroking higher, further over his hot skin—always gentle with him—rolling the tip of his cock in your palm until it's all shiny and slick, your spit mixing with the first drops of pre-cum he's leaking.

The groan he answers with rumbles through your own chest, hair tickling at your chin as he nods. "Feels good—real good, baby, please don't stop."

There's no need to worry about that. Heat builds at your own core just watching him squirm, his lips parted and glistening and eyes shut tight.

You feel his fingers wrap tight around your thigh, the softness of hands contrasted with the bite of his rings, and he struggles in vain to get at your core, trying to give back some of the pleasure he's getting. You kick his hand down to the sheets with a gentle nudge of your leg. His knuckles turn white with the grip he's got on the fabric.

"Don't worry about me, baby. This is about you."

Eddie nods, lips pressed tight, trying to stopper the little moans slipping through. You don't want him to hold back.

Kissing across his temples, you pepper praises into his ear, listening closely to the sounds he makes in response.

"You're such a good boy, Eddie. So good for me. Such a smart, pretty boy. God you're pretty, Eddie. Did you know that?"

He's having a hard time responding, his cock pulsing in your hand. Your fingers travel easier over his skin with the slick he's beginning to spill. Eddie's head falls back, eyes blown wide, when you play with his slit, massaging the sensitive skin with the pad of your thumb.

"Baby," he calls out, his sweat-slicked t-shirt riding up a little over his hips with the way he writhes, revealing the thin stretch of skin above his belt, and the dark little hairs that grow there, "m'gonna cum."

You just tighten the circle of your fingers, speeding the pace of your hand over his taut skin.

"Go ahead, baby," you tell him, your own breathing heavy, "I want you to."

He spills, thick white ropes of cum staining his black t-shirt, and his body curves around the sound he makes, a deep, satisfied groan coursing from his lungs.

"Fuck, baby," he breathes, big eyes meeting yours, going wider when you clean some of the cum off his shirt with your thumb, popping it between your lips.

He mashes his face against yours, kissing the taste of him from your mouth, his tongue licking at yours.

You laugh at the dopey grin on his face when you part from the kiss. "Feeling better?"

"Uh, yeah," Eddie chuckles, tucking himself back into his pants, a little self-conscious. You take his hands in your own, twining your fingers together. His tongue darts over dark pink lips, eyes locked on yours.

"Good," —you give him a soft peck, and then another—" 'cause you deserve it, Eddie. You deserve the whole goddamn world."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fics #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #my writing #requests #minors dni

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thatonebrazilian · 3 years

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Hello Darkness - Chapter 1

Prologue, chapter 1, chapter 2.1, chapter 2.2 (coming soon)

A/N: This chap ended up being waaaaay smuttier than I was anticipating lol, and way bigger too. I won't normally post chapters this big, I just couldn't divide this into two because... well, you'll see. Anyway, if I've forgotten to add anyone to the fic's taglist pls lmk, and if you want to join comment or dm me. Also, likes, reblogs, and comments are really appreciated.

Summary: You were happy with Wanda until you found Vision on her bed. You loved her, though, you would have forgiven her eventually, but Natasha couldn't let you throw away your chance at true happiness like that. So she took matters into her own hands.

Warnings: Cheating, Kidnapping, Gaslighting, non-con sex, non-con drug use, non-con alcohol consumption, Stockholm syndrome, soft!dark!GP!Natasha, futanari (in case you don't know what GP means), forced pregnancy, breeding kink, praising kink, a bit of mommy kink... I think that's it, lmk if I need to add more. MINORS DNI. You have been warned.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 5534

“What do you mean gone?!” Wanda practically yelled, there was desperation in her voice, she needed to find you, she needed to make things right.

“I’m sorry, Wanda, but she doesn’t want to be found,” Natasha said, her eyes full of cold fury, unlike anything Wanda had ever seen.

“But…” Wanda started again, she wanted to apologize, to tell you she loved you, to assure you that you would never see her in bed with anyone ever again.

“No buts, Wanda, this is your fault and you know it,” Natasha said and Wanda finally understood why the redhead seemed so pissed. Wanda always had an inkling that Natasha had feelings for you, but she couldn’t be sure, she couldn’t read her mind, nor the mind of the other founding members, they had created some sort of nanotech that, when in contact with their brains, blocked out her powers.

Wanda trusted her teammates and they trusted her, but they knew it was hard for her not to read their minds, she herself would tell them that their thoughts were too loud, that sometimes she just couldn’t help but overhear, so both for their benefit and hers, they decided to adhere to this new nanotech Tony came up with.

You were the only one who didn’t need it, your powers being similar to Wanda’s, you could just keep her out of your mind if you wanted to. But you never did it, you always let her in, you always accepted her, embraced her, supported her. God, how much she wanted to find you.

“I’m sorry, Nat,” Wanda said, the expression on her face full of endless determination “but I’m going after her, I’ll find her and apologize, I’ll prove to her that I love her, that she’s the most important person in my life. Whatever it takes.”

She turned and left. She was going to find you, no matter what.

When you first realized what had happened you basically refused to believe it. Your best friend wouldn’t have brought you here against your will, would she?

A part of you kept wishing again and again for Wanda to show up and put you out of this misery, but another part of you, the part that patched Natasha up when she was hurt, the part that shared milkshakes with her when she told you she never tried one, the part that had let her teach you how to braid her hair, that part didn’t want to be found, not because you wanted to be here, no, but because you didn’t want her to face the consequences. That part was the part of you that was hurting the most, along with the part that loved Wanda, because you haven’t just lost your lover, you’ve also been betrayed by your best friend.

The second time you woke up you were in a plain room, almost completely bare, with nothing more than a bed and a drawer. There were no windows, only the door from which Nat came through, you couldn’t tell day by night.

“Please, Tasha, just let me go. I promise I won’t tell anyone about this, I promise you nothing has to change between us, things can go back to the way they were.” you had whispered once and Natasha smiled a sickeningly sweet smile, crouching down to look you in the eye.

“But I don’t want things to go back to the way they were. You were suffering before I took you, right? I’ve told you that your happiness was the only thing holding me back, but you weren’t happy anymore, so now I’ll make you be.” She clasped her hands as if she remembered something, her eyes widening a little “Oh, I think I forgot to feed you yesterday. How about some breakfast? You must be hungry.”

And that kept going on and on, you would plead for her to let you go, she would assure you she wouldn’t, that she was doing this to make you happy, she then would feed you and proceed to inject you with something. You would pass out only to wake up god knows how many hours later.

And then you’d be completely alone until she came back.

At first, it was honestly a little bit cathartic if you were being honest, you got to think about your relationship with Wanda, with Natasha, you got to think about being an Avenger in general. In the beginning, the thoughts would come up and just wouldn’t stop, it almost drove you mad, but then you learned to control their direction, to observe better. You got to know yourself a bit better.

And in the process of getting to know yourself better you realized that despite the deep fear in your heart, fear of what Natasha was really capable of doing, fear of never going back to the compound, of not being able to help more people, fear of never seeing Wanda again, despite all that you couldn’t feel any sort of anger towards Nat. All you felt was hurt, betrayal, you would never imagine she would be capable of doing something like this, least of all to you.

But then the alone time became too much, you craved human interaction, any human interaction, and maybe that was what Natasha was looking for, or maybe it was because you were so weak you wouldn’t be able to fight back, but whatever the reason she decided to release you. You felt as if you were a lamb, looking at her with wide eyes and trembling hands. The shackles were gone, you could go up, you could move again. Natasha took you to the bathroom, ran you a nice warm bath, and prepared a rich breakfast for you. You didn’t know what was on her mind, you didn’t know her reasons, she didn’t say anything to you, but you would finally be free again, you would find a way to go back home.

The opportunity came later when she was in the shower, you were in the new bedroom she had moved you to, more spacious and actually furnished. You got up, opened the door slowly as if to not make any noise, and tiptoed to the living room, where the front door was. Your hand was almost on the door handle when you heard her voice.

“Where do you think you’re going, Y/N?” she asked as she approached you, quickly coming up to you and grabbing you by your wrist. You couldn’t understand, it was as if she had materialized out of nowhere, you could hear the shower running, her hair was still wet, but her clothes were crumpled as if she had put them on in haste.

“I-I’m going home,” you yelped in response, reaching up to try and pry her hand from your wrist “Please, Tasha, I wanna go home, I’m not happy here!”

“You’re not going anywhere, Detka, I already told you I’m going to make you happy, I just need a little more time to get you used to this...” she shook her head as if she was disappointed, and as she grabbed you around the waist and pulled you closer to her body you felt a really bad feeling form in the pit of your stomach “I finally let you out of your shackles and this is how you repay me? You need to learn to be more grateful. Now, apologize.”

You felt your eyes sting with unshed tears, you had already lost weight, lost muscle, you tried to pull away from her to no avail. “Let me go! Let me go, I wanna go home, Natasha, I wanna go back! I want Wanda!”

Natasha tsked. “Now you’re just acting up.”, she said, never once losing her temper. You gasped when you felt her hit the back of your knees, making you fall to the ground. You tried to get back up, but the redhead had other plans as she grabbed one of your arms and pinned it to your back.

“Remember the day you finally learned to do that spell you’ve been trying to learn? Who celebrated with you? Me, ‘cause Wanda was too busy with that fucking toaster.” She said through greeted teeth “Or when you were injured during that mission in Greece, was it Wanda who took care of you? No, it was me. Who taught you hand-to-hand combat? Who took a fucking bullet for you? Who held you when you cried after you accidentally killed a butterfly?”

“Natty, Natasha, stop!” You begged, wiggling in her grip in a panic, your arm twisting slightly in your position making the tears in your eyes stream down your face.

"You need to be more thankful and learn some manners, gosh Y/N, you’re not a brat, never been one, and you’ll get nothing from acting like one now," she said, her voice more threatening than you ever heard before. “I’m going to have you teach you a lesson.”

You cried harder, still trying to struggle out of her grip, but there was no point, Natasha had always been stronger than you physically, and now with your malnourished state and lack of powers there was no way you would be able to fight back, she was simply too heavy for you to lift off and too strong for you to fight off.

Your brain, in an attempt to escape the hell you were currently in, started a whole process of wondering why. Why was she doing this to you? She told you she loved you, but you already knew that, she’s told you that time and time again as you had her, after all you were best friends, of course you loved each other, but you couldn’t understand why would that give her the impression that she had the right to whisk you away from your whole fucking life.

But your musings were cut short when you felt her pull down the sweatpants you were wearing. They weren’t even yours in the first place, the sweats and the tank top were courtesy of Natasha herself, she had changed your clothes while you were sleeping, but it never came to your mind that there could be something sexual in her actions. Despite her claims that she loved you and wanted to make you happy, sex never crossed your mind. Not until now, not until she had you pinned to the ground, face down and ass into the air as she caressed your now bare bottom.

"What… Wait, Natasha what are you doing?" You asked, trying even harder to get up, but she twisted your arm farther, causing you to yelp out in pain.

"I told you Detka, I’m teaching you a lesson, now be quiet," she said and you felt her moving behind you. The bad feeling in the pit of your stomach increased tenfold.

"No, no, no, no. Please, please Natasha, whatever you’re thinking about doing, please, don’t do it, please!" You begged desperately, your voice shaky and cracking already, tears falling freely from your eyes.

You didn’t have time to prepare yourself, you could only let out another yelp as the sting of her hand spread across your ass. It fucking burned. "What did I say, Kotenok? Be quiet," she said, her voice almost stoic, laying another hard smack onto you, and another after that, much harder than you would ever think she would go on you. You didn’t know what to do, your ass was burning and it fucking hurt, you wanted her to stop so bad, but you were stuck.

You yelped out in pain when yet another spanking came, squeezing your eyes shut and clenching your teeth as you took it. The pain was not the worse thing though, no, you’ve suffered much more bodily harm on the battlefield with the team, what hurt the most was that she was the one doing this, making you unwillingly take this punishment, laying her hands on you without your consent. Her, Natasha Romanoff, the person you trusted the most in the whole fucking world, more than your girlfriend, more than yourself.

Slap after slap came, spreading pain across your ass and giving you the most unpleasant tingle you’ve felt in a good while, the tears in your eyes marking it as a successful punishment.

"Nothing left to say, Detka?" Nat said, and it was as if she was taunting you, but her eyes showed nothing but appreciation as she ran her warm hands over where she smacked you. You winced in pain, twitching as she went over the rougher spots. “Good girl,” she said then, her voice gentler “you took your punishment so well, baby.”

You lost count of how many times she spanked you, you were too disoriented, too clouded by the negative and confusing emotions.

You didn’t even have time to say anything before Nat’s spreading your legs apart with the hand that’s not holding you down, bending forward and pressing her lips to your exposed skin, digging teeth in hard enough to leave marks, entirely too rough compared to what you were accustomed to. Wanda was never rough with you. And you grunt in pain, there’s no pleasure in it, but Natasha seems to love the sound that came from your mouth. She stops for a second to take you in, lying there under her, your back arching away from her and your free hand struggling to keep you up.

Despite the panic flowing through your veins and the soft prayer to gods you didn’t even believe in, as Natasha’s fingers made their way to your center, rubbing and exploring the space between your folds, your body grew slightly moist against your will. You hated it, you hated being betrayed by your own fucking body too.

With each stroke you felt more and more uncomfortable, but you could hear the telltale sounds of your wetness. You squeezed your eyes shut when the first finger slipped inside you.

“See, baby?” Natasha said as she began to pump her fingers in and out. “I’m taking care of you, I’m preparing you for your real punishment instead of taking you high and dry.”

Your eyes stung with the burn of tears, your head hurt. This couldn’t be happening, this couldn’t-

“Natty, Natty, please! Stop! I don’t want to… Oh!” it wasn’t a moan, it was another grunt, another yelp, your pussy wasn’t accustomed to having it rough, you wanted it to stop.

“Are you sure, Detka?” Nat asked as she watched you squirm.

Natasha didn’t let you respond, though, she set to work even faster, using your reactions and whimpers as a guideline, mapping in her mind all the spots that made you curl your toes, all the corners that made your back arch even more. One finger was joined by a second, then a third. All of them going in as deep and as fast as they could, the hill of her hand pressing firmly against your clit, giving you relentless stimulation.

But in the blink of an eye, she had stopped. You felt a false sense of relief thinking that it was over, but you hadn’t really registered what she’d said before. She was only preparing you for the real punishment.

And then you heard the rumpling of clothes behind you and you felt something poke your backside. You snapped out of your daze then, your eyes shot open and you gasped loudly.

"N-Nat, what is-" You started, only to be met with her hand on your ass again. You let out a sob, not for the pain, but for what you dreaded was going to happen. You took a chance to look behind you, she twisted your arm further, but you didn’t care, all you could do was look at the cock standing proud against her stomach. Not a strap, an actual cock.

"Do you like it, baby?" she asked you, her emerald orbs taking in your reaction. “You’ll have to thank Wanda for this, not that she knew what I was going to use it for, or who I was going to use it on,” Natasha said, stroking her dick. “With this little thing” she tapped a small silvery spot in her temple, it was the nanodevice you also saw Tony and the others use “she can’t read my mind. She has no idea you’re the one who’s meant to enjoy my cock.”

You flinched when you heard her say it. You didn’t know what was worse, that she got a cock with the sole purpose of using it on you or that your girlfriend gave her the very thing she was going to use to rape you. You sobbed when you felt the tip touching your lower lips, you tried to move away and start to struggle only to be reminded of the tight grip she already had on your wrist, squeezing it tight enough to leave bruises. The arm that was keeping you up trembled so much you crumbled to the ground, cheek to the floor while Nat kept your ass up in the air.

"Don’t be like this, Detka, you’ll actually enjoy it." She said then, her tone sounding sweeter, almost delicate, it was as if you were having a heartwarming conversation with your best friend, and that broke your heart even more. “Besides, I just want you to understand that there are things you can and cannot do. You can’t just leave me, baby, you can’t try to walk out as if you own your life cause you don’t, not anymore.” She said as she rubbed her cock between your folds. “This will help me teach you all you need to learn, ok?”

You clenched your teeth as her cock pressed into you.

"Oh god..." You were shaking, trying to move away, but she pushed down on you, pinning you harder to the ground with one arm behind your back.

“Oh my god, baby, you’re so fucking tight” she moaned.

Of course you were, you didn’t want this, you didn’t want her. Your body was trying to keep her away, but your traitorous heart couldn’t find in it to hate her still. All you felt was pain, physical, mental, and emotional. All you wanted to do was curl into a ball and cry until you’d pass out.

Natasha, not content with what she was doing already, decided to humiliate you a little bit. She bent forward, took your other arm, and pinned it to your back as well, grasping both of your wrists in one hand. Her free hand went to your pussy then, spreading your lips apart so she could see better, so you’d be completely on display to her. You closed your eyes tightly, all the crying was making your headache worse, you felt dirty and exposed, and you hated that you couldn’t do anything about it. If only you still had your powers…

Who were you kidding? Despite all the sick twisted things Natasha’s been doing to you, you could never bring yourself to hurt her. You would escape, yes, you’d go back to Wanda and forget all the shit that happened the last… how long have you been here again?

“God, Detka, you feel so good. I bet Wanda never gave you anything this thick, did she?” Natasha purred as she started to force more of herself into you. It burned, you weren’t dry, she made sure of it, but she was still too big and far too large, you hated it that she was right, Wanda never gave you anything that thick.

Fuck, if it was any other time, in any other way, with Wanda preferably, you may have liked- no, loved it, but it was Nat and she was doing this against your will.

You sobbed almost hysterically, still trying to pull away in vain. "Tasha, please, it hurts." You whimpered, your voice sounded so meek, so soft and weak as she tried to fit more of her into you. To your surprise she slowed down at your request, allowing you more time to get used to her size, one of her hands started caressing your hip in an intimate gesture. With the tiny window brake, you got the pain subsided a little, but you knew that wouldn't last long, there was more to go, she wasn't even halfway. You tried to appreciate the tiny break, the way her thumb drew unrecognizable patterns on your hip, the way her hand alleviated the pressure on your arm a bit. She pushed in further then, inch by inch, in what for her must have been an agonizingly slow pace for her. The pain returned as she pushed on, your body not being accustomed to anything as girthy and big as her.

"Fuck, holy fuck, baby..." she moaned under her breath as your hips finally pressed together, the entirety of her cock completely enveloped by the velvety walls of your pussy. You felt shivers run along your whole body, a shaky breath leaving your lips unwillingly.

You felt so weak, so tired, and unfortunately, you knew you couldn’t fight back anymore no matter how much you wanted to. You didn’t have the strength, both physical and mental.

Images of Wanda came to your mind then and you couldn’t help but blame her for what was happening. If only she hadn’t cheated, if only she had loved you enough. Of course, you knew it was no one’s fault other than Natasha’s, but you couldn’t bring yourself to hate the person who stood by your side through thick and thin, the person who helped you when no one would, the person who held you when you cried and laughed alongside you when you were happy.

You were as sick as her. What was wrong with you that you didn’t hate her for doing this?

“Yes Kotenok…” she purred again, pulling out of you slowly before beginning her slow pace, snapping her hips forward to dive into you again with the utmost care. Still, you yelped, clenching your fists. It wasn't hurting as much, your body has gotten accustomed to her faster than you would have predicted, but it was still too much. Her hips moved smoothly against yours, your body was offering little resistance now, even if your mind screamed for her to stop.

At least she was being gentle, you told yourself, at least she was taking your comfort into consideration.

"Y/N, you have no idea how many times I dreamt of this, how many times I imagined how it would feel to have you beneath me," she said, massaging your hip as she fucked you, her pace getting faster as she noticed your body's response, your pussy getting wetter and wetter, more compliant. “I'm sorry it had to be like this, I wanted to do everything right, I wanted to take you to dates, dinners, but then Wanda came in,” she said, a bitter tone in her voice, her hips snapped at a rougher pace now "and I saw how happy you were, so I stayed put, but then she fucked up big time and I knew your big marshmallow heart would forgive her sooner or later, so I had to take action, I had to have my chance at showing you how happy I can make you."

"This is wrong, Nat, this is so wrong." You let out a mix between a whisper and a sob, you were so out of energy, your voice held no strength behind it. "You're not making me happy, you're hurting me," you said so quietly you didn't know if she would be able to hear it, you felt so violated, so betrayed.

“Shh, it’s ok baby, it’ll feel better soon” Natasha cooed while she gently pulled your arms back to use as some sort of handle as she thrust into you, the sound of your hips smacking together echoed through the room, dirty and so inherently wrong.

The hand that was caressing your hip came to your front, drawing patterns on your stomach. You clenched your teeth and closed your eyes tightly, holding in any sort of sound that could give her a positive impression. You didn't want her to feel the twisted sense that she was making you feel good, because she wasn’t, so you held it in. It was hard to hold it, though, her thrusts were rough, calculated, she knew what she was doing. You started to hold your breath in, hoping it would help to keep your voice in check, but once you felt the need to exhale she gave you such a hard thrust that a loud whine escaped your throat.

"Oh, Detka, you sound so lovely. Please, Y/N/N, let me hear that pretty voice again." she cooed, squeezing your arms just slightly harder as if to emphasize her request. The irony wasn't lost on you that she would force herself upon you, but would ask- plead- to hear you whine again. It was then that you felt the first signs of anger, your blood started to boil, she couldn't do this, she couldn't just fucking rape you and act as if it was lovemaking, she couldn't force her will upon you, betray your trust and act as if there was nothing wrong with what she was doing.

"Fuck you." You spat then, your tears overflowing by now, your voice stronger and suddenly full of energy. Maybe the inhibitors weren't strong enough, maybe your powers were coming back. You closed your eyes tightly and willed her hands away from you. Her pace slowed down and hope blossomed into you, you thought that maybe it was working, maybe you would be able to get out of here.

“Baby, you know I don't like it when you misbehave” she warned, her voice still gentle, but a bit more firm. The hand that had been tracing patterns in your stomach lowered and was now caressing your folds, fingers brushing you with feather-light touches. You tried to pull away once more, taking advantage of the sudden energy you were filled with, but her grip on you tightened and she fastened her pace, teasing your clit, rubbing it in small circles, and sending unwanted electric shocks of pleasure through your body.

You didn’t want to enjoy this, you didn’t want her to feel validated in her perverted conviction that she’d be able to make you happy by making you hers, but your body was responding against your wish. It wasn’t something incredibly pleasurable, it wasn’t something that would give you a mind-blowing orgasm, something that would make you see stars, Natasha wasn’t that acquainted with your body yet, but it didn’t feel bad anymore.

It didn’t feel bad and you hated yourself for it.

You choked on a moan, struggling to keep it in, squeezing your eyes shut as even more tears rolled down your face. You wanted to fight back, but there was no point.

You prayed to any deity to have your powers back, you hoped against hope that you would be able to make this stop, that she would be done with you soon, but you knew Natasha too well, and one of the many things you admired about her was that when she set her mind on something she never backed down. Well, that admiration was coming to bite you in the ass.

The hardwood flooring scraped against your knees, making them red, your body was being lurched forward as she thrust roughly into you, the lewd sound of your wetness as your hips smacked together made you feel like a fucking whore, your body kept lubricating itself more and more, you were practically dripping by this point, you wanted it to stop, but there was a small part of you that felt grateful that it didn't hurt anymore, that Nat had been thoughtful enough to make sure you were ready for her, but you absolutely did not want to acknowledge that it felt good.

Had it been consensual, it would have been heaven, but the fact that she was one of the most important people in your life and yet she did this, the fact that she betrayed your trust so completely, the fact that not long ago you had witnessed the woman you loved moaning another's name, all of that made you feel hollower than you've ever felt before.

She was sliding in and out of you with ease now. Rich, deep moans were coming from her throat as she rubbed you as if she knew your body inside out as if she had been paying attention to you for years. Maybe she had.

You opened your eyes again to get a peek of her, and she was already looking at you with her eyes full of awe as if you were the most beautiful thing in the whole multiverse. Upon meeting your eyes she rubbed just the right spot on your clit and thrust deep enough to make you see stars, you were caught by surprise, your mouth worked before your brain could catch up and a pretty erotic moan slipped out.

"Oh god, baby, do that again." she moaned too, upping her pace. You held your breath in hopes of keeping your noises in, you didn’t want to spur her on even more, you had to keep it in.

The hand on your clit rubbed faster and a little bit harder. You let out another unwilling moan.

"That's it, Detka," she said with a smitten smile on her face, she slackened the hold on your arms a bit as if she was rewarding you, her thrusts came even faster then, deeper, almost painful as she filled you completely over and over. Fuck, you tried to hold back the sounds, you really did, but there was no use, she forced them out of you just like she was forcing herself into you. The worst thing is that you didn’t even know if it was from pain or pleasure anymore, you didn’t want it to feel good, it wasn’t supposed to feel good, it wasn’t supposed to be happening at all.

Natasha’s thrusts started to become less controlled, more frantic, her little pants became almost animalistic growls as she fucked you so hard.

"Tasha, Tasha, please, slow down, it hurts!" You whined.

"It’s ok my angel, don’t worry," she reassured you and it made you think that she would keep this mad frantic pace until it was over, but she slowed down a bit. You couldn’t help by wonder how could she think that this, her forcing herself on you, would make you happy? Because now it was clear that she actually meant it, she wanted to make you happy and she honestly thought that this would help, after all, why would she think of your comfort when she could be seeking her own pleasure if that was not the case?

You wanted this to end, but there was a small part of you that dreaded the end more than the deed, because you didn't know what would be your fate then, you didn't know what she would do to you. You weren't stupid to think that after all this you would be able to just go home. The thought of going home, the same one you would give anything to make true not long ago, now made you feel torn. You didn't know if you would be able to face Wanda, not when she could have avoided all of this by simply being faithful. Tears streamed down your face as you thought of all the shit that had happened since that night, all the shit that was happening right now. You grunted as Natasha's balls slapped against your pussy as she fucked you.

"O-oh, fuck, Y/N, I'm cumming baby." she breathed, leaning forward slightly, tugging you up higher by your arms, rubbing your clit harder and faster and you swore that she wouldn’t be able to do this, you never thought your body would respond this way, but Natasha didn’t just make you see stars, it was a fucking supernova.

The world went white for a moment of pure bliss, a moment where you forgot about Wanda, about Vision, about Natasha, about yourself. You came hard, your pussy embracing her cock for dear life. Nat moaned a loud and dirty moan, one that brought your consciousness back, and then it hit you that she wasn't pulling out yet and you nearly screamed, about to yell at her to stop but-

"I want you to take it all, Kotenok" she panted against your ear “take all of me”. Natasha slammed into you once more before cumming inside, pressing deep all the way to your womb. Her hips twitched as she spilled herself inside of you, making you start sobbing again. This was absolutely not what you wanted, this was the last thing you wanted to happen. You didn't know what Wanda's magic did to Nat's body, you didn't know if her cum would have any effect, but what if it did, what if you got...

You let more tears fall, you couldn't let yourself think about it, not now.

Not ever.

----

Taglist: @romanoffsgal, @ministark, @liladoesfanfics, @wandanatvoid, @inlovewithfaberry, @kermy48, @fabgronsky, @natashakink, @im-stilltired, @blinkmuch, @wandanatblogs

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layniapetrovnaaa · 3 years

Note

Heya! I’m so excited to see someone else who writes for To Kill a Mockingbird, so I gotta ask; how do you think Atticus would go about developing feelings and asking someone out? Thanks a bunch💕

Ahhh! yes we love tkam in this house lol. I am writing a little fic really similar to this too, so if you'd like to see this in story form, I'll be trying to get that up soon and you should check it out! Alright, now lets bust this out! I tried to make this a little more neutral, but reader did get a fem in some, so ignore that if its not your thing.

Also this is not proof read, so be wary and feel free to correct me!

I think I've mentioned this before, but it takes Atticus a while to develop feelings for someone

He likes to really take his time and get to know the person

You two would just spend time together a lot

You worked as his secretary at the firm and thats were you first met

Spending everyday with such a charming man can only stay platonic for so long

of course you would be respectful of his feeling towards you, if he seemed uninterested you would back off, but he never did

I think for the first few months he would mistake your flirting for friendliness

But when Jack comes to visit he kind of realizes how your charm is quite different around other people

Thats not to say you didn't flirt with Jack too (cause lets be honest who could resist)

But Atticus quickly picks up that there is a tenderness that you have when you interact with him that you don't have when with other people, like Jack

After that day, however, the air in the office is a bit different

Its tranquil with a mutual understanding that there is some underlying fondness between the two of you, but its hard to really give it a name or confine it by some sort of label

When the feelings really start, when he can't focus on his book, only you, he is in total denial

He is even in denial that he is in denial

Like he doesn't even realize what he's doing (but of course, Jack and Alexandra can)

Once he does realize his feelings, which happens on a regular ol' night, the two of you were reading silently together (he had invited you over for dinner for Scouts birthday and asked you to stay just for a bit longer even after the children had gone to bed)

It just hit him like a ton of bricks

he starts to notice a few little things here and there, things that he didn't particularly notice before

For example, your smile.

He always thought it was lovely, but he was more fascinated by your lips now. Just the color of them and the way that they looked at really an given time

and the same with your hands, when you would wear nail polish, when you wouldn't, how soft they were, that way that you would fidget with them when you got nervous or overly excited.

The way your fingers would delicately flip through the pages of your book, or pick up your pen and scribble something new down on his agenda

I don't want to get NSFW, but his gaze does occasionally turn a bit lustful

I think he would start complimenting you more physically as well

before, it was hard to spend more than an hour with the man without him complimenting your wit

But now its like every few minutes when you catch him staring

he’ll get slightly embarrassed and compliment your hair or outfit, makeup, jewelry, whatever you might be wearing

and you just cant take it anymore

so, one night when he's walking you home, you call him out

"Why wont you just ask me out?"

He sputters quite a bit for a moment before placing his hands behind his back and laughing at himself.

"Alright," he says fondly. "What would we do?"

"We could go dancing?" you spoke softly, flicking a piece of hair back and gazing at the man tenderly.

He chuckles, and you can tell he appreciates your suggestion

"I'm afraid I might be a bit too old for dancing now."

"That's a shame, I would have loved to see your moves." you grinned

He returns the look, fiddling with the chain of his watch

"I've got an idea." he starts, turning so that his profile faces you and stares up into the dark sky

"Pray tell."

"How's about I take you up to Montgomery for the day? Saturday. They've got loads of fine, fine shops there. Maybe we can find you a matching necklace for your favorite earrings?" he turns back.

Your hand subconsciously shoots up to the studs you had in your ears, the very ones of which he was speaking

Bashful in that he remembered, your eyes fall to your battered shoes.

"Or perhaps some new footwear?" you joke, looking up at him

His eyes fall to your feet and he lets out a chuckle, an amused smile staying on both your faces as you make eye contact once again

"New shoes it is."

You both smile

"I'll see you tomorrow." he signs off, taking your hand and placing a gentle kiss to your knuckles

"See you" and you're just beaming.

“Goodnight, Atticus."

"Goodnight." he smiles.

And its only once you see him enter his house that you realizes he's left you with his Jacket

What a flirt

#atticus finch #atticus finch x reader #to kill a mockingbird #tkam #tkamb #tkam headcanons #tkam fanfiction

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fandomfluffandfuck · 2 years

Note

Omg I LOVED that blurb that anon sent in about touch starved Bucky and safewording. Personally one of my favorite dynamics in fics is a “well it wasn’t that bad” sub that’s started dating a “if I breathe too hard on you, you can safeword” dom. It provides lots of communication and soft hurt/comfort scenarios.

I can just see sweet bb Bucky curling in on himself and going “I-I really shouldn’t have - it wasn’t a big deal - really Steve, I just” while Steve’s busy getting him snacks, soft pjs, blankets, and comfort shows. No way is a sub in his care, much less his sub, going to think you can’t safeword. You can always safeword.

- softie 💞 anon who loves touch starved Bucky way too much

related to this

Oh, good!

Haha I've never heard of a dom being described that way - if I breath on you too hard, you can safeword - but it really paints a picture! I like that lmao. And that sub, poor baby, thinking that because it wasn't the worst it was fine! To take a quick tangent-

Hearing the way d/s types describe their philosophy around safewords is fascinating to me, in the worst way occasionally; I've seen dom's online brag about scenes that ended only when the sub had to use their safeword to get them to stop, thinking it makes them a better dom.

Which, spoiler, it does no such thing.

That shouldn't be how a scene ends, because the the sub is unable to enjoy what the dom is doing or even is uncomfortable with it or the dom has gone outside of their limits or whatever. Leading into whatever type of aftercare the d/s each need after that safeword. No. The point of a safeword (outside of maybe a pre-negotiated scene where the point is to go to the safeword but even that is uncommon) is to be used when something is too far. You've gone too far if your sub safewords, and so long as you stop when you hear the safeword, it's okay. Things will heal if you work through it. But yeah, anyway, enough ranting lol. Back to your ask!

Yes, yes, yes, many soft moment would arrise out of that pairing!

All of the stern but still very soft heart-to-heart conversations between Bucky and Steve would 100% happen. Steve taking Bucky's hand and squeezing gently, telling him that if he even thinks about safewording, even just in passing, he should. He can. Never be afraid to ask for what you need.

Bucky and Steve also probably started with a single safeword, basic, just because that's what Bucky brought up the first time and because they haven't done anything varsity-level yet so, in theory, they shouldn't need super complex safewords... but eventually, given Bucky's hesitancy to use his safeword unless he feels like he 1000% has to use it, they pivot with the issue a little, trying out the traffic light system. Green. Yellow. Red. And then a final, full-stop word on top of that. Layers of safety. To catch Bucky's fall, or rather, to remedy part of Bucky's fear of falling.

They'd still continue with those talks though, as well as getting Bucky to use his colors more. And slowly he becomes better at letting his emotions show through his safeword usage (or lack thereof because this Steve is a very experienced dom and there aren't a ton of opportunities where he goes too far, usually it's something in Bucky's head that freaks him out that leads him to wanting to safeword. Which is totally normal and okay too! It doesn't have to be a physical thing).

Thank you for sending this in, 💞 baby, the thoughts are very good <3

#asks #💞 anon #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #fluff #hurt/comfort #safewords

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spaceydragons · 3 years

Text

Late Winter Showers Bring Early Spring Flowers

The Tatooine rains bring a special surprise

My Valentine's day gift for @biorust-art through @starwarsfandomfests and aaa! I literally had so much fun writing this I really hope u like it 🥺 also big thanks to @milf-maul for being my beta reader!

A/N; I completely made those flowers up ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ and the three of them are laying in like... in a triangle situation I suppose lol I feel like it's hard to tell the difference between the "seasons" on Tatooine with just the weather but it does have seasons, also Boba only calls din "Djar'ika" in private/when no one's around (also also I may or may not write a prequel to this)

Pairing; Boba&Fennec&Din found family with a hint of soft BobaDin

Rating; G

Word Count; 1.3k

~•~°~•🏵️°🌸°🌼•~°~•~

The seasonal winter rains of Tatooine are never really guaranteed.

Sometimes they come once a year. Sometimes they come once a decade. Sometimes they come once a century.

There hasn't been any significant amount of rain since Boba's first year with the Tribe, nearly six years ago. It was almost the end of "winter" on Tatooine, now bordering on "spring" without a rain cloud in sight. Most people were starting to lose hopes of it raining at all this year.

Until it did.

It came on fast and furious early in the morning-- appearing seemingly out of nowhere, as Tatooine rains usually do. The giant cloud, acting as if it was on a mission, passed over the Palace and moved on to it's next destination. Though another storm would be rolling through soon, the rains always come on sporadically multiple times a day during the rainy season.

There's no doubt every person in every city and settlement where the rains passed rushed out to collect whatever water they could, while children who've likely never seen rain before looked on in wonder.

There's no doubt the Tusken's have already known that the rains were coming this year, setting out their water collectors beforehand, while the children ran around and played in the rain with their Anooba's and Massiff's.

The residents and workers at the Palace look on and get excited over the rains as well. Some even run out with water collectors, while others just stand with their arms outstretched as they look up at the sky, simply enjoying the feeling of rain on their skin.

"They know you have a water reserve, right?" Din asks, standing next to Boba at the edge of the Palace's large front gate as they watch the excited workers.

"They know." Boba says, leaning against the rough sandstone wall. "But they aren't like us, Djar’ika. Rain is a rarity, and it's practically in their blood to get excited over it. I can't in good consciousness tell them not to enjoy it."

"I… suppose I didn't think about it like that." The other Mandalorian admits, and Boba doesn't have to see Din's face to know he's in deep thought.

"Boba's right," Fennec walks up behind the two, sipping from her mug of caff, "let the locals enjoy the rain. We have a Palace to run."

"That we do, and it can't run by itself." Boba huffed, pushing himself off of the wall and gently knocking his vambrace against Din's pauldron-- their own little wordless way of saying 'follow me' before heading back into the Palace.

"Fennec, what do we have on the agenda for today? Anything pressing for this afternoon?"

"Hmm, nothing too far out of the ordinary." She ponders, taking another sip of her caff. "Why do you ask?"

Boba chuckles. "Just keep an ear out for me later, hopefully I'll have something to show you two."

The day had gone smoothly enough, though the morning court did drag on longer than usual with various individuals bringing their traditions and celebrations about rains to the Palace.

It was mid afternoon, Fennec and Din we're sitting at a table in the armory doing their weekly combo of weapons checking and security talks, when Boba found them.

"Oh good, I've found both of you." To any other person, Boba might not seem too out of the ordinary-- but Din and Fennec knew him better than that. Not even his usual stoic face couldn't hide the excitement buzzing under his skin. "Have either of you looked outside recently?"

"No?" Din cocks his head as Fennec shakes her head. "Me and Shand have been in here since morning court. Why do you ask?"

Visibly gripping his helmet tighter, Boba beams a giddy smile. "Take a break and come with me, I have something to show you two."

Din looks at Fennec, the slight tilt of his head conveying his confusion, as she offers nothing but a shrug. They get up to follow him regardless.

Instead of taking them to the front gate, Boba leads them to a rarely used and rusted over side entrance. "Ready?" He asks, hand ready to punch in the code on the cobweb covered panel.

"As we'll ever be." Fennec says sarcastically as Din nods.

Boba smiles again, the door groaning in complaint as it opens.

Fennec gasps, and Din sees something he's only ever heard of.

As far as the eye can see, the once monotone sands of Tatooine were now covered in a carpet of tiny multicolored flowers. From bright red's and orange's and yellow's, to calm blue's and purple's and pink's.

"It's a superbloom." Din whispers, looking out to the sea of color.

"It is. There was one with the last major rains, too. I didn't know if there would be one this time as well." Boba sets his helmet down by the door. "Now," he begins taking off his boots and gloves, and walks out to the field of flowers, "c'mon you two, let's go."

"Go? Is it… safe? To walk barefoot on it?" Fennec asks, skeptical of what she's seeing. Because it usually isn't safe to walk barefoot on Tatooine. Even if the sun's are currently on the other side of the Palace, casting the area in a wide shadow. The sands could still be hot.

"It's safe." Boba chuckles as he walks further out. "Take your boots and come see."

Still skeptical, Fennec undos the clasps on her boots and slips them off. Taking a tentative step out into the flowers, she's pleasantly surprised by what she feels under her foot. "They're almost… cool."

"Didn't I tell you, huh?" Boba gestures for her to venture out. "C'mon, they're not going to bite or sting." He looks over to Din, still standing in the doorway. "You too, Djarin." With a crook of his fingers, Boba beckons him over with a 'come here' motion.

Din takes his boots off, leaving them against the wall next to Boba's and Fennec's. He seems to tread almost as lightly as he possibly can, like he's subconsciously not wanting to crush the small flowers too much. Fennec walks over to a patch of orange flowers a little ways off, pocketing her gloves to pick one, as Din makes his way over to Boba.

"Beautiful, isn't it Djar'ika?"

"It is." Din stops next to the other Mandalorian. "I've never seen a superbloom before, only ever heard of them."

"I had high hopes that one would happen after today's rains," Boba says, "there's just something so… special, about them."

Fennec trots back over to them. "I like these ones." She holds up her hands, full of small orange flowers with delicate wedge shaped petals. "They smell unique, almost spicy."

"Those are Tatoo'i flowers," Boba grins excitedly, "they can make a numbing salve if you dry the petals into a powder and mix it with a little bit of rendered bantha fat. Every one of the flowers can be used in some way." Boba can see it clear as day-- the children of all the Tusken tribe's eagerly running around and gathering up what specific flower's the Grandmother's need to make their medicine's.

"Now," Boba moves to sit down, grunting at the exertion on his knees, "let's take a rest." He sighs as he lays back.

It's Fennec's turn to look at Din with a puzzled look, only for him to just shrug at her. He lays down a little bit behind and to the left of Boba, and Fennec at the opposite side.

In a wordless request, Boba gently runs his knuckles over the back of Din's still gloved hand. Immediately taking the hint, Din removes his gloves, lacing his fingers with Boba's as his other hand gently feels the flowers beneath him.

"This is really nice. Thank you for showing us, Boba." Fennec says as Din squeezes Boba's hand in agreement.

"By this time next week they'll all be gone." He pats Fennec's shoulder and slowly runs his thumb over Din's knuckles.

"We have to enjoy the little things, while they last."

#sw valentines 2022 #my writing #bobadin #boba/din #boba & din #boba & fennec #din & fennec #sw fanfic #star wars #boba & din & fennec

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your-daily-biaswrecking · 3 years

Note

Hi ! I've seen that your request are open so here's mine for mister Park Jimin or Kim Taehyung, whatever you prefer !

So like, It would a scenario where the reader starts sending letters to one of them that is in prison for whatever reasons (it's up to you), and they start falling in love through these letters until they finally meet in real life when he gets out. And if you'd like, maybe things can get a little (a lot) freaky once they reunite. But overall it would be a fluffy love story :)

Thank you in advance if you decide to write it ! Hope it was clear enough...(I love your writing by the way <3)

Not me calling my dad (who is a lawyer) to ask for legal advice over this lol

Also I did Jimin because I have lots of Tae requests on my to-do list

A crime by law but not by morals. You were looking through the profiles of the prisoners that wanted a pen-pal —just because your friend had mentioned the organization and you were curious— when an inmate caught your eye. He caught your eye because he was undoubtedly the most handsome man you had ever seen; face so ethereal it made you wonder if he was human or a fairy. And when you dug through his profile a bit more, you found about the reason for his incarceration. Young man hits his father after years of physical and mental abuse towards him and his mother, ends up giving him a fractured neck that needs multiple surgeries to be fixed. Court rules it was not done in defense, because the young man came home to find his mother having just been thrown down the stairs, meaning he wasn’t present for the violent act and therefore he acted out of malice. Five years in prison.

His name was Park Jimin. And be it his majestic beauty or the injustice you felt for him upon reading his file, you decided to send him a letter. You didn’t know what you expected in his response —if you even got one of those— but it was definitely not one of the sweetest letters you had ever read. Thanking you for the gesture like it was the best thing that had happened to him the past two years he was in there. Immediately sharing with you his interests, like his passion for dancing and singing, as well as his love for drawing, taking the liberty to include a small piece of art he had created in the letter. Which was phenomenal. I know you might not believe me, but I’m actually a great dancer. And to prove it to you, here are some scribbles of me dancing.

He wanted to know all about you. And by the way he wrote, you knew you wanted to get to know him better as well. He was so funny, nice, smart, understanding… A perfect man trapped away that you could only talk to via those letters. A perfect friend. I have made a couple of friends here, but by far the best acquaintance has been you. And perhaps even more. I saw a dream about you last night. It was a nice dream because I could touch you. Time passed and you went from smiling at receiving his letters to verging on addicted to them.

I wish I could meet you. Perhaps… one day…

That day finally arrived three years after you first started corresponding, and by then Jimin knew you were waiting for him; you knew he was counting the days even more than he was already. He asked you for a few days to visit his mother and find his old self back before seeing you. And you had agreed to meet at a specific diner, on a specific day, at a specific time. And knew that if one of you didn’t show up, you would probably lose touch forever. You tried not to think about that as you sat and waited, butterflies in your stomach absolutely killing you. The door opened and closed, the little bell over it ringing and signaling people’s arrival, yet never the one person’s you wanted.

“Sorry I’m late—” a sweet voice gasped next to you, “—but apparently there’s been changes to the public transports since I’ve been gone and I got a bit lost.”

You blinked at the man. Park Jimin. That was Park Jimin, right? The ethereal face you couldn’t stop thinking about, yet could have never imagined it would be even better up close. The chirpy voice you had tried to guess many times but never got so close to how at home this one made you feel. The smile, a smile that definitely lived up to his corny jokes, and his eyes that found yours, never to let go again. He was right in front of you and you couldn’t believe it. You didn’t know what to say.

“Hi…” you panted.

And his smile grew. “Hi.”

There was just a second of uncertainty, perhaps even awkwardness, before you both leaned in for a hug— a hug was appropriate after three years of talking and never seeing each other, right? A hug was appropriate after you had confessed to each other in every way other than the physical yet? He smelled like a fairy, flowers and scents of emotions of love filling your body as you held him as tightly as you could. Like you were afraid he would slip between your fingers, or you would wake up alone in your bed all of a sudden.

But none of that happened. Jimin sat with you and you had dinner together. It didn’t flow as easily as your letters did, but neither had such expectations when you were too busy battling the heat growing in your chest and he was too busy blushing with every compliment. “I’m sorry, I haven’t done this in a while…” This? “A date.”

It’s not like it was planned for you to kiss him before going into your apartment that night —I mean, you had definitely daydreamed about it enough times, but you understood why something like that might take some time. But it happened naturally, it would have been more awkward to prevent it. His lips soft against yours, even when things got more heated and his teeth bump into yours like he had forgotten how to do this. You pulled him in through the door and it was the most natural thing.

“I’ve missed you so much, even if this is the first time I see you.” You knew he meant it by the way his breathing was all over the place and you had barely even taken your shirt off. You struggled to find beautiful words like his, even if what you felt inside you was undoubtedly the most magnificent thing ever. But he understood you even if all you could do was kiss him. The moans that were born and died in between your lips told him all he needed to know.

“I can’t wait to have you in my life.” It was good enough, he seemed pleased enough. Happy enough to flip you on your back and change your positions at which you were making love, plunging into you as he held you as close as possible, mouth never leaving yours. A position normally so bland, yet so powerful when it’s with the person you love. He was whiny in your ear, almost crying about how good it felt to finally have you the way he wanted, to feel you, touch you, kiss you, fuck you. Love you. Jimin promised he wasn’t ever going to leave your life as he came, and you promised you wanted nothing more than to be with him as you found your own release. Confessing to each other in the physical sense for once, all throughout the night and the rest of the nights that were to come.

Park Jimin. Finally, in your arms.

Masterlist | Moodboard

#bts #bangtan #request #park jimin #jimin #drabble #fluff #smut #jimin drabble #jimin fluff #jimin smut #jimin x reader #jimin x you #bts x reader #bts x you #non idol au

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rizubaby · 3 years

Text

Dinner and Dessert | Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu.

genre ; nsfw oneshot.

request ; nsfw Fuyuhiko x fem!reader oneshot.

summary ; After being away for a couple days for some important business deals, you return home to find your boyfriend Fuyuhiko in a state you certainly didn't expect.

tags ; fem!reader, boyfriend experience, oral sex, L-bombs, (slight) breeding, mentions of marriage, vulgar language.

wc ; 2,7k.

note ; I had a lot of creative freedom with this one, since there weren't any specific things I had to incorporate. I really wanted to explore the softer and more romantic side of him in this oneshot, so there you go lol. Don't worry though, if this is not your style, I got some NSFW headcanons for Fuyuhiko planned for later ;)

This is an 18+ post. Minors dni.

"Fuyuhiko? Where are you?"

Your voice echoed throughout your empty living room as you entered your shared appartment. You had been away for a business trip for a couple days, whilst your loving boyfriend Fuyuhiko stayed home. You were so excited to see him again, I mean, who wouldn't be? Being away from your significant other for only a couple days can often feel like weeks, and it most definitely felt that way for the two of you, too.

"Fuyuhikooo? honey?" you called out again, a hint of worry and confusion now present in your voice.

No response. Huh, that's weird. You had texted him that you'd be home in about fifteen minutes, and he replied saying that he'd be home to welcome you back. So why isn't he here?

You sighed and dropped your suitcase on the floor, taking your heels off as you were still wearing your formal work clothing. Your usual work clothing consisted of a nice formfitting black skirt, a silk white blouse and sleek black heels. It all accentuated your features and curves perfectly, yet you always felt like all your colleagues were staring at you.

You neatly set your shoes aside and walked a couple steps further into the living room, scratching the back of your head as you glanced around the empty room. Suddenly, you noticed something red laying on the floor.

An immediate rush of panic washed over you and your body froze, as you had experienced this sort of thing countless times. With Fuyuhiko being in his line of work, it was almost commonplace for him to come home injured every now and then. After all, he never really stops working. Some wounds were worse than others, and so you feared something might've happened in those fifteen minutes before you arrived home. You slowly peered over to take a closer look, and...

...Is that a rose petal?

Just then, you hear the front door open behind you and you turn around in shock. It's Fuyuhiko, standing in the doorway with a huge bouquet of flowers in one hand and a bag from the local grocery store in the other.

"W-...What..?" you stutter, the rush of panic from a second ago having not completely gone away.

"Ah, shit," Fuyuhiko mumbles, as if caught red handed. You stare at him for a second and you see a faint blush appear on his face.

"Um, welcome back baby! Shit, haha... I thought I had just a little more time before you came home, and I uh... I wanted to surprise you," he rambled, the blush on his cheeks only appearing redder with every second he kept talking. "S-So I went to the store to get some things..."

Dumbfounded by what your boyfriend who was awkwardly standing in the doorway had just said, you felt your cheeks burn up in an instant as well. You weren't used to him being this... Romantic. You know he loves it when you shower him with love and affection, but you never expected him to return the favor, so to speak. I mean sure, he's told you countless times that he loves you, but never to this extent. Those days apart must've really done something to him...

Fuyuhiko stepped inside and awkwardly closed the door behind him, carefully placing his bag of groceries and the flower bouquet on the floor before rushing over towards you and hugging you tightly. You embraced him back and dug your face into his shoulder, letting out a soft sigh as you could finally relax, knowing you had nothing to worry about.

God, you were so happy to see him again.

"I love you, and I missed you," he spoke, his hands slowly moving down your back to rest on your hips. He moved his head and looked deeply into your eyes before pulling you into a passionate kiss. You could tell by the way he kissed that he really missed you, as his kisses were intense and sloppy. He started planting wet kisses along your neck and shoulders while still holding you in a tight embrace, pressing your body against his.

"You look so fuckin' pretty in that..." he remarked, one of his hands gliding further down to squeeze your ass. You gasped softly, finally realising how in need you were for his touch. "Fuck, I missed you so much.."

Even though it felt like you two were being pulled together like magnets, you eventually managed to pull away for a second to look into your feisty boyfriend's eyes once more. "W-What, um... what did you have planned for us..?" you asked, curious to know what was in the bag of groceries Fuyuhiko had brought with him. "The flowers are beautiful, by the way... Thank you," you smiled.

Slightly caught off guard by your sudden question, Fuyuhiko's grin quickly grew. "I uh... I wanted to prepare a nice dinner for us. I bought some expensive wine, too. And then maybe afterwards we could, y'know..."

He stopped there, because both of you knew exactly what he meant. You could tell he was holding back by not finishing his sentence. In reality, he wanted nothing more than to press you against the nearest wall and fuck your brains out. Those days apart seemed to never end, and he missed every inch of you. Your beautiful hair, your soft skin, those wonderful moans and whimpers you'd let out every time he was fucking you...

You smiled and turned around to take a closer look at where you spotted that rose petal earlier.

The sly bastard had made a whole fucking trail of rose petals leading to your bedroom.

"Hm, not a bad idea... but I've got an even better one." You said as you looked into his eyes, a feeling of pure love and arousal awakening inside you as you slowly made your way towards him.

"Oh yeah? What's that?" Fuyuhiko asked, noticing the slight change in your demeanor. You gently grabbed his hands and placed them around your sides, stealing another kiss from his freckled lips. You brought your face closer to his ear and whispered something to him that immediately made him throw all his mental restrictions out the window.

"Let's skip dinner and go straight to dessert."

After saying that, you instantly felt Fuyuhiko's grip on you tighten, and you could've sworn you heard a soft growl escape his lips before he hungrily pressed his lips against yours once again. You stumbled backwards until you hit the wall next to your bedroom door with a loud thump, as his fingers quickly moved to unbutton your silk blouse. At that point, all you wanted was each other. No fancy dinner, no wine, no idle chit-chat... Just you and him, feeling each other's skin pressed against one another and never letting go again.

He wanted to feel every inch of you. He wanted to hear you moan out his name. He wanted you to leave scratches on his back and see your eyes roll back as you told him that you loved him. He wanted everything.

Being apart from you for only a couple days made him realise how much he actually cared for you. You had never really been apart for this long and it made him go crazy. Every day he would think about you and imagine all the things he'd do to you once you got back home. It almost physically hurt him, not being able to hold you in his arms as he laid awake in bed those nights. You always said you were his and that he was yours forever, but in that moment, he realised he wanted to make it official (in whatever way he saw fit).

In a matter of seconds, your white blouse and laced bra were thrown on the ground as you were both frantically trying to undress each other. Fuyuhiko wasted no time and hungrily started sucking on one breast, squeezing the other. You let out soft moans in response and wrapped one leg around his waist, trying to pull him even closer to you.

"M-Mmh... F-Fuyuhiko, please... I-I want to feel you," you mumbled, desperate for him to fuck you like he always did. He liked to tease, but you weren't in the mood for that this time. The need was high, and you couldn't wait for him to be inside you.

"Hold on baby, I want to taste you first..." he replied, letting go of the breast he was sucking on and kissing you everywhere whilst making his way down. He was on his knees and he carefully lifted up your formfitting skirt to expose your beautifully laced panties. He stared at them in awe for a second, the longing to taste you only growing more and more.

He gently but quickly pulled them down in one swift motion, exposing your wet pussy. You heard a soft grunt from between your legs and felt his warm hands hold a tight grip on your legs.

"Turn around for me, baby."

You did as he asked, now facing the wall with your hands supporting you as you leaned into it. His hands were exploring your backside and squeezing your ass, a feeling you didn't know you had missed this much until now. Feeling his breath against your inner thighs, you felt shivers going up your spine and a soft whimper escaped your lips.

As he couldn't possibly contain himself any longer, Fuyuhiko hungrily started lapping at your folds while stimulating your clit with his fingers. You let out a louder moan than you were expecting, but at this point neither of you cared. Fuck, he's so good at that. You felt your body start to tremble and your climax was already fast approaching, his tight grip on your thighs as he was eating you out making it even better.

"F-Fuyuhiko, fuck, I-I'm going to-" you said, feeling your mind blanking as you nearly tipped over. He heard you loud and clear and quickly started picking up his pace, hitting all the right spots with his skilled tongue. Before you knew it, you were shaking uncontrollably as your first orgasm of the day washed over you, incoherently babbling his name as you rode out your high.

"F-Fuck, Fuyuhi- Ah! F-Fu..."

As little beads of sweat started forming on your forehead and you panted heavily from your intense orgasm, Fuyuhiko quickly stood up and turned you around, immediately starting to kiss and plant hickeys on your neck.

"S/o, I fucking want you, right now," he whispered, his lustful tone giving you goosebumps all over. His profanity in the bedroom was so incredibly hot, you couldn't possibly begin to describe it.

As he got hold of you again, you quickly stumbled into your bedroom and fell onto your kingsized bed, never once breaking your passionate kiss. Once you were laying there, you looked around and noticed the flower petals scattered around the room and the lit candles on your bedside tables. A surprised giggle escaped you and Fuyuhiko grinned widely in response.

"You like it? I did this for you, baby..."

All you could do was nod, because no words could possibly describe this. You pulled him in for another kiss before he quickly got up and started undressing himself. The way he undid his tie was something that always turned you on for some reason. He just looked so manly, it made you crazy.

As he was busy undressing himself, you wasted no time in taking off the remainder of your clothing until you were both completely naked. He threw himself onto you and needily continued kissing you all over, leaving a trail of hickeys and faint bite marks all over your body. You couldn't wait any longer. You needed to feel him inside you.

"Fuyuhiko, please.. Please fuck me, I want you inside me," you pleaded, the desperation in your voice making him even harder than he already was.

Without another word, he pulled open your legs and positioned himself against your soaking entrance. God, that look he gave you made you melt instantly. You looked into each others eyes for a brief moment before he pushed himself into you, filling you up instantly. You let out a wanton moan in response to the feeling of finally having him inside you again, something you longed for ever since the first day you were apart. You grabbed hold of his arms and held on tight as he quickly started moving his hips, aroused moans and grunts filling the room.

"G-Goddammit, I missed you so fucking much... You feel so good baby, f-fuck..!"

Heavy panting, loud moans and profanity echoed throughout your apartment. Fuyuhiko was pounding into you at a godly speed, yet still managed to make every thrust sensual and loving. He was fairly average in length, but this man knew what he was doing. His pace and all the other things he would do made for such an amazing fucking that you'd never want anyone else.

"S/o, I-I love you, I love you so fucking much," he mumbled, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he slowed his pace, putting more pressure behind every thrust which made you squirm and tremble from pleasure.

"I-I love you too baby."

He stopped gently nibbling on your neck and raised his head to look at you. A moment passed, his cheeks were bright red and his gaze felt like it was piercing right through you.

"S/o, W-Will you marry me?"

"W-What?!" you exclaimed, utterly perplexed by his sudden proposal. I mean, you were in the midst of having sex! But still... You felt like it seemed so right. In the time you had been apart it made everything fall into place. You were meant for each other. And somehow... This felt like the right time.

"Y-Yes, Yes! I will!" you smiled, pulling him into another loving kiss. He didn't need to say anything else, his reaction said everything you needed to know. He was ecstatic to have you as his bride. A huge smile appeared on his face, and that same smile quickly transformed into a lustful grin as he finally started bucking his hips again. A breathless moan escaped you, and pulled him into a tight embrace.

Fuyuhiko quickly picked up his pace again with his newfound excitement, and managed to throw your legs over his shoulders so he could pound into you even deeper than before. Your back arched and all you could bring out were incoherent moans and screams. You let your nails dig into his back and he let out a surprised yet aroused moan in response.

"S-S/o, I'm gonna cum soon... Fuck, p-please I want to cum inside you," he groaned, leaning forward to lustfully suck on your tits. "I want to make you mine."

For someone with such a babyface, he really knew what to say and what to do to push you over the edge. You felt the knot inside your stomach grow bigger with every thrust and you desperately nodded in agreement.

"Y-Yes baby, please, keep going- A-Ah!"

With his last few thrusts, you felt the knot inside you untangle and you moaned out his name in pure bliss, feeling his thick seed paint your walls. Your head shot back and your eyes closed as your mind drew blank, the high of your second orgasm almost being too much to handle.

His strained moans eventually died down as you felt the last drops of cum shoot out of him, collapsing on top of you and immediately planting kisses all over you again. He was so in love with you, it felt like he was on cloud nine. Hell, he even came inside you. He rarely does that, since he just loves the sight of you swallowing it or playing with it once he cums all over you. But not today. He wanted to make you his.

You laid there in silence for a moment to catch your breath, feeling the fog inside your mind slowly clear up. Once he pulled out, you could feel the mix of your juices slowly seep out of you, and it was such a satisfying feeling.

He plopped down next to you and you snuggled up against him, giving him a couple of small pecks on his cheek. Your fingers gently ran through his short blonde hair as you stared into each other's eyes. You were the happiest you could've ever been in that moment, and neither of you ever wanted it to end.

"So... how about that dinner I promised? I mean, we have something to celebrate after all."

#dangandonpa smut #Danganronpa 2 #sdr2 #fuyuhiko kuzuryu #fuyuhiko x reader #fuyuhiko kuzuryu x reader

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well-in-all-honesty-i · 3 years

Text

TW: Suicide

OKAY SO- I wanted to talk about Mafuyu and Yuki’s relationship and why it ended the way it did. I should preface this by saying that the majority of this, although somewhat supported by canon, is my own personal headcanon and speculation. I’ve been surrounded by a lot of people who I believe Yuki to be similar to, but I am not 100% accurate or well versed and this is mostly just from what I’ve gotten from those situations. Also, a lot of questionable grammar-I type like I speak, which doesn't translate well haha.

So I want to chunk this into 3 big pieces because I enjoy organizing things: Yuki’s childhood, how that affected his personality as a young adult, and how both of these lead to his eventual death.

Starting off with his childhood:

This one is heavy speculation (as most of this is-but this bit is particularly so) since there isn’t much canon to support this-or provide a lot of insight. But, what little we do know is that 1) Yuki’s father wasn’t present in his life-probably even before Mafuyu’s father had been jailed-and that, 2) Yuki and his father shared the same bull-headedness (?) and pride that Saeko believes led to his death.

I personally believe that Yuki’s father was someone who might have struggled with some sort of mental illness, as well as has had a problem with alcohol abuse. I also imagine that he probably disappeared or passed-either due to some sort of alcohol-related problem or suicide.

Saeko, from how she is characterized in the story, seems to be a very strong-willed and assertive person. In the aftermath of Yuki’s death, she's relatively composed and seems to have almost expected this to happen, although maybe not in the specific way it did. [Ex: When she tells Mafuyu that Yuki was always the type of person to die in a chicken race (a competition of pride, of sorts, that usually ends badly) and when she mentions him being similar to his father in that sense.]

In the flashbacks in the anime, when Mafuyu tells Yuki that his father beats him when he talks, Yuki’s response of ‘You know, a real father doesn’t do that.’ doesn’t sound like something a small child’s first response would be. It’s a bit of a reach-but considering that, as well as how prompt the response from his mother seemed to be (when Mafuyu’s father was jailed-not much time seems to have passed, and since both of their mothers are present, I've always assumed that Yuki's mother found out through her son and acted accordingly.),- it would make sense that Yuki might have some prior experience with this. Especially if his mother had gone through something similar-she probably would’ve warned him very strongly against the ideal his father had set, making Yuki want to be very far from that.

Speaking of which-I assume that Yuki probably had a very rough-if short-lived-relationship with his father when he was around. Given the stuff above, his father was probably someone who was emotionally volatile and tended to lose control when upset. If he had an alcohol problem, he might’ve caused a financial strain that fell onto Saeko as well.

Since his father was out of the picture and Saeko herself wasn't around as much as Yuki might've needed, it would have made him both very independent from his parents and adults in general, while also heavily reliant on Mafuyu (Hiiragi quotes both Mafuyu and Yuki to have been latchkey kids who found comfort in each other), both of which twist into the situation he found himself in later in life.

Leading into his teen years:

Yuki, as a young adult, is very independent-he works multiple jobs to pay for the expenses of being in a band, makes a point to avoid drinking, and is very affectionate towards Mafuyu. I'm not too sure about the reasoning behind why the four friends chose the high schools they did, but if Yuki's mother didn't directly influence that decision it's likely it was a choice made in direct relation to their band.

There's also very little interference from any adults in Yuki's life-namely, his mother. As someone who was probably very busy working as a single mother to support the two of them, her mentality was just to support him monetarily and let Mafuyu provide the emotional support in her place.

I think she also assumed her attempts wouldn't have been well received-most people noted how close Yuki and Mafuyu were and seemed to always assume that they had each other handled and that nobody had to worry about either of them because of it. In every way, it was simply easier to show Yuki she cared by not interfering and letting him hold the reigns of his own life.

A big indicator of this idea for me what when Saeko talked about how Yuki ordered his own ramen, the type he liked. It's a small thing, but it started me to read because it highlighted the amount of input his mother had on his life; which was very little. I don't know if he even used her money or chose to use the extra from his jobs to pay for it, but either way, it sort of put their relationship into perspective.

The impact it had:

Yuki probably had a lot of resentment towards his father, or, at the very least, a desire to turn out different. And oftentimes when a person is very strongly trying to avoid turning out like someone, they ignore or avoid acknowledging the similarities, rather than accepting and working on them to properly change. Without a strong parental/adult figure in his life, he wouldn't have considered insight beyond his own experiences. He's characterized to be moody and domineering, and Mafuyu is too soft-spoken to have brought up most issues until it reached its boiling point.

I believe Yuki might have had Borderline Personality Disorder to a mild extent. Some symptoms of BPD are mood swings, impulsivity, impaired social relationships, and a distorted self-image. They usually have thoughts of suicide or self-harming tendencies. When they feel insecure in relationships, in which they’re usually very, very invested, they tend to lash out or do rash things to keep them close.

Based on my relationships with the borderline people in my life, I've noticed that they usually bounce between having great confidence in themselves, to being incredibly insecure. It's hard to explain specifically, but they walk a fine line of being insecure and also maintaining a painfully strong ego, which makes them react very strongly when provoked, intentionally or not. Yuki and Mafuyu have a different type of relationship than I do with those people in my life which, for the two of them, means that Mafuyu probably had to provide lots of emotional support for Yuki, while also under the mild threat of Yuki coming to harm by his own actions.

Being with someone with these tendencies who is also unaware of them is very draining, especially for someone as mild and soft-spoken as Mafuyu is. Yuki tended to lead their relationship and was probably very noticeable when upset-and for someone who might not be used to speaking up or someone who has low self-confidence, it is difficult to bring up things. It doesn't feel safe if you don't know exactly how it would be received. Especially if they are the person you are closest to, it can be anxiety-inducing to try and bring up problems that don't seem to be incredibly important or unavoidable.

So, long story short-Yuki was closed off to receiving any kind of proper advice or criticism that would've saved him. Another symptom of BPD, as mentioned before, is suicidal ideation. So, if all these things are combined, it's a lot easier to see how he, surrounded by only his thoughts and ideas, would make the choice to take his own life when provoked.

It wasn't specifically that Mafuyu had caused his death, but more that he just sent him over the edge he had been teetering on for a long while. He was like his father in the sense that they had the same flaws that just came from different places. Yuki's pride came from the flip side of his insecurities and his own early independence, and his mental health issues as a whole are probably hereditary. The specificities of his death, where Yuki drinks after avoiding alcohol for his entire life, feels like he failed in his effort to avoid being like his father. He was different as a person but in the end, their flaws aligned and brought them to their end in parallels to each other.

Calling back to what his mom said-it doesn't feel unexpected. It is shocking, but not a surprise. Yuki was fiercely independent and wanted to learn and do new things, all on his own-including his own death and whatever follows after.

[I wrote this a while back and didn’t really like how most of it was speculation and hard to prove-but decided to post it anyway because I spent too much time on it lol.

Like I said before, most of this is just my head canons, but I hope it made sense! Feel free to add on with your stuff/arguments/headcanons :)]

#given #yuki yoshida #sato mafuyu #character ramblings #tw sui mention #mafuyuki #given manga #given anime #idkkk what do y’all think #i’m bad at Tags #also this is. severely unedited.#as in i wrote this a while back #found it and just went #huh this is a lot of words. let me skim it. sounds about right. time to post!#WIAHI

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onceupona-chaos · 3 years

Text

Feathers and dawn (part II)

Day 18 of Elriel month/ Teach me how to fly

You can read part I here.

"Spread your wings."

The moment Elain opened her wings, the cold, impetuous wind hit them, and the full impact made her lose balance, almost falling backwards. Instead, she met Azriel's chest, his hands tightened on her waist, and her body went cold and hot all at once.

This time Elain did stop breathing.

WC: 4164/ Warnings: Language

(I had so much fun writing this! As usual, sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language. Sorry for any typos as well, but I can't look at it anymore lol)

Elain had held that light inside of her with everything she got, and even so it came close to controlling her rather than the other way around.

She still could feel it, not the light that shone so bright to blind someone's eyes, but more like a gracious flame of a candle in her chest. But that was nothing compared to how the muscles on her back burned.

When her eyes cracked open, she was half expectant that all of it had been a delirious dream or one of those visions that still hunted her from time to time. But then she tried to move to a sit position, and a scream escaped from her throat at the very, very real pain punishing her upper body.

Her entire back was sore, and she could feel a complex extension of muscles - from her neck to the end of her spine - that was now linked to two massive weights coming out of her shoulder blades.

Excruciating, blinding pain.

Elain didn't notice the tears falling down her cheeks, couldn't even hear the sounds coming out of her own mouth.

Strong, calloused hands were pushing her hair away from her sweaty forehead a second later, and then Azriel’s beautiful face was there.

He was like a hiding spot in the middle of a storm, anchoring her from her agony, even though his expression was contorted in worry.

Azriel's eyes were wild, lips forming her name, but she couldn't hear a sound. Pain was all she knew, making her senses numbed.

Black dots started to dance in front of her eyes, her head getting light, and hazel ones full of terror was the last thing she saw before the world bleed into darkness again.

_______________

The next time Elain emerged to consciousness, first she smelled the leafy odor of salvia. Then the feeling of gentle, experienced hands massaged the line of her spine while she was lying on her stomach.

Heavy eyelids opened to the Velaris sunset, shades of pink and purple coloring the blue sky were visible through the familiar floor to ceiling windows, making her recognize her room in the river house.

Elain caught a movement from the corner of her eyes, and she inclined her head slightly to see Azriel, kneeling beside her bed, worry still printed in his face, but his eyes filled with relief now.

His hair was in complete disarray, the dark locks pointed in different directions as if he had run his hands through it repeatedly.

“You’re awake,” he breathed.

Those hands, unfamiliar hands, were still rubbing her exposed back, the gentle touch soothing the pain.

“That’s Majda, she’s almost finishing.” Azriel must have sensed her confusion. “How’s the pain?”

Her mouth was dry and it was an effort just to make words come out of it. “Tolerable” she said, voice raw.

He just nodded and then they fell in a comfortable silence. It was always like this with him - no need for empty words.

Azriel just stayed there in his vigil, shadows curling around his ankles, watching her with those familiar hazel eyes. Not the blazing gold of Cassian's, but rather an embrace shared between warm brown and stark gray, with hues of emerald green that would stand out according to his mood.

Eyes as complex as Azriel's himself, candidly observing her whilst Majda worked, her hands putting the exact amount of pressure to soothe her muscles, the salvia tuning the sharp pain into a dull ache. She didn't touch Elain's wings.

Wings.

Even with their weights on her back, even with the feeling of that warm power in her chest, Elain still was prone to believe it all had been a dream if it wasn't for the pain.

When Majda finished the healing massage, she merely told them she'd come back the next few days to do it again.

The bedroom’s door clicked shut, and Elain was already trying to get up, Azriel immediately protesting, "You should stay in bed.”

"I want to see them" was her only reply. She needed to see, to look at them. To know they were real.

"Your muscles aren't strong enough to support the new weight -"

Indeed, when she tried to stand, her balance wavered and she toppled forward.

Azriel caught her before she could fall on her face, hauling her up. Gently, one of his hands passed behind her knees, the other around her waist, and he scooped her up.

Elain let her head fall against his chest, breathing his scent as he walked through the room. A few moments later, far more than was necessary to reach her mirror, he put her down, but remained close.

She didn't see her pale face or even care about the fact that she was wearing nothing, but a nightgown that reached the middle of her thighs. Not when two massive wings rested on the floor behind her, the soft, white feathers touching the carpet.

Elain turned around to see her back, to see the point where the skin ended and the feathering began.

They were beautiful.

But she never had felt more unworthy of something. She couldn’t even hold them up, couldn't even lift them from the ground. It had been so exhausting spent months trapped in that murky realm, visions blending together with reality, that she hadn’t want find out what else the Cauldron had given her, hadn't want to touch that flame burning in her chest, not when her own body felt foreign and now -

Only when she felt tears dripping onto her chest, Elain realized she was crying, exhaustion falling upon her as a blanket, covering her to the bones.

She stood there for enough time that the next time Azriel spoke, she had almost forgotten he was there.

Almost.

Because she always seemed to sense whenever he was around.

"I will teach you everything."

It didn't sound like an offer at all. His words were a promise.

Slowly she turned from the mirror to face him - and nearly sobbed at how lovely and fiercely his eyes were, almost shining with sheer compassion.

Compassion for her, yes. But also for an Illyrian boy who didn't know how to fly, who found himself all alone in a war camp long ago. "I'll be with you and I'll teach you everything."

She didn’t know what to say, what to make of everything. So Elain only took his hand, interlacing their fingers and squeezing firmly.

But then, a thought struck her. "Truth-Teller," she gasped.

A smile curved his lips. "It's with me," he said. "I went back to the Cave. Turns out, without the Orb, the wards were gone."

Relief washed over her. And guilty.

"I'm sorry. I should - ."

Before she could finish her sentence, Elain was again in his arms. Azriel chuckled, but hadn't missed how heavy her eyelids were getting. "Not your fault. You weren't exactly in position to remember it," he said while gently carrying her back to bed.

But before he could lay down the mattress, he stopped by the side of the bed, and turned to look at her. Every ounce of amusement gone.

"I thought…" his words died and he shook his head.

No trace of that mask he so often used, no sign of his usually neutral expression.

The look on his face was Azriel in his most raw state. And she could see it.

I thought I had lost you.

She wished she wasn't so tired as she buried her face in the crook of his neck and breathed, "I know."

He nodded. He understood.

He murmured as he lay her in the bed, "Sleep. I still owe Nesta an explanation."

Elain smiled sleepily, and mumbled, "Good luck."

Just when darkness came to claim her once again, Elain felt the ghost touch of a light kiss in her temple and the smell of mist and cedar. ___________

The next day, Elain was sitting at her usual spot by the window of the living room in the river house, the Orb laying on a desk right in the center of the room. What was unusual, however, was the many pairs of eyes glued to her.

Cassian's jaw was still on the floor by the time Amren, the last one to arrive, entered the room. Even her face went a bit slack when she took in the wings and some emotion sparkled in her silver eyes.

Elain tried not to blush, but all that attention wasn't helping.

Although Feyre had helped her before to retract and summon her wings, which she was grateful for, Elain didn't want to summon them in front of everyone, so she decided to just get straight to the point.

She didn’t know how Azriel explained what had happened to the others, especially to Nesta. But given the look on her face fixed on Rhysand and on the spymaster, a perfect I Will Slay My Enemies look, according to Cassian, Elain wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

But as for now Azriel just held her sister's gaze, his face neutral.

"So…" Cassian began, waving a hand towards her wings. "What the hell?"

"I think what he's trying to ask you is," Nesta gave a look at her mate. "Where did those come from?"

Elain took a deep breath. "Well..." She bit her lip, trying to choose her words in order to make sense. "After I found out what I was, I've never accessed the full extension of my powers. I knew the Cauldron had given me something else,something more, but I didn't want to find out what it was."

Rhysand asked, "Why."

"Because I was too scared," She replied honestly. That was all she could say. She didn't want to, didn't know if she could relive those days when she couldn't tell reality and dreams apart.

She glimpsed at Azriel, who was at the corner of the room, sorrow shining on his face while he gave her a reassurance nod.

"So when I grabbed the Orb, it… whatever powers I have just grumbled in answer, as if they were the same… they came to the surface. It tried to stop them, push them back, to let go of the Orb, but I couldn't… it trapped me"

"That's because they are the same," Amren said. As soon as the words left her mouth, Elain understood what lay on her eyes: recognition.

"What wicked sort of plans the Cauldron may have for the three of you," Amren went on, nodding to Elain and her sisters.

"Amren," Rhysand said, the voice of the High Lord. "If you know something, just tell us."

The petite female gave him a hard look, before turning to Elain. "The Cauldron didn't make you any Seer." Amren tilted her head, studied Elain. "He also happened to make you an Oracle." Her eyes were practically two blazing stars, and Elain had to fight a shiver, before asking "An Oracle?"

"That 's right, girl."

"What's the difference?" Nesta demanded.

"A different group of Seers… powerful ones", Rhysand murmured, running a hand through his hair. "I thought they were just a myth."

"They were as real as you and me, Rhysand," Amren said, shaking her head.

It was Feyre's time to demand, "Someone please explain."

"Before the High Lords, there was a time where this world lived in complete, unshakable peace," Amren began. "The Oracles were the great responsibles for this time of harmony, a group of Seers who used to celebrate life and pulled the threads of Fate. They travel through words just like we travel between courts, using their Seer powers to See and manipulate the future to their will… to prevent any cause of conflict before it even became a conflict. Subtle, swift creatures those females"

Elain wasn't sure if anyone in the room was breathing.

Azriel asked quietly, "How did they disappear?"

"No one truly knows." Rhysand answered. "The legends don't go that far."

"Common Seers have the gift of sight, but it's limited in its own way," Amren explained. "Oracles, however, have other sort powers as well and they can see further in the future, no matter how distant."

There was one question in Elain's mind, essencial and terrifying. "What is my power?"

Amren's smile was a thing of pure wickedness. "I guess you'll have to find out."

"But why the wings?" Nesta asked, brows furrowed.

Amren eyes softened a little. "Some claimed some of them heritaged from an unknown race of warriors. But not every one of them had wings. If you were blessed with them, they would call you the Leader. The others would fly on their winged horses by her side, travelling through the world and maintaining their balance."

Elain's head was spinning. "But what about the Orb?"

"I might have an idea, but I'll need to do some research in the Helion's libraries first." Rhysand shot his mate a look, his lips curving. "Care to join?"

Feyre only rolled her eyes.

Cassian let out a long breath. "So you're telling me Elain could see if a war is truly coming and stop it before it even begins."

A sick feeling gathered on her stomach, and she blurted, "No."

Silence.

"No what?" Amren asked thighly.

"No, I won't use my powers to play with Fate." She couldn't help the edge of rage in her words. "Espeacilly not when Fate itself had been playing with me all along."

Silence fell.

"You're right," Feyre offered at last, her voice soft. "It's your choice."

Gratitude washed over Elain.

"I want to learn how to fly, though" she blurted, glancing at Azriel, who was already smiling.

Feyre looked between them. "You'll find Azriel has… harsh methods, but they are quite efficient."

Rhysand, who had been just observing, suggested, "Maybe you, Feyre darling, can teach Elain, too."

"I will train her." Azriel's words were practically a snarl, challenge filling every one of them.

Elain looked at the shadows gathering around him as he stared at Rhysand, who just narrowed his eyes back. Strange.

"I'm sure Azriel is the better option to teach Elain, he was the one who taught me after all." Feyre was looking pointly at her mate. "But I can participate in a few lessons when they get tired of training alone." She said looking at Elain, eyes shining bright with an edge of mischief.

Elain ignored that.

"You'll have to build some muscles, you know that, right?" Cassian asked.

Muscles. It wasn't that Elain was opposed to that, but… she couldn't see herself as a warrior like her sisters. Surely, she wouldn't mind learning one thing or two, but...

"I'll help you."

Elain turned to her older sister, with raised brows. "I don't…"

"You don't have to learn how to use a sword, but I can help with your core muscles," Nesta offered.

Then, Elain couldn't stop the warmth in her chest - not from that source of power, but from pure gratitude. "Thank you."

Amren shocked her head and huffled a breath, edged with amusement, making Elain's brows furrow at that.

"A Made, reborn Fae and a Valkyrie training a new Oracle." Her lips curved in a feral smile. "Three Cauldron-blessed sisters, indeed."

Elain didn't have to use the Orb to know Fate had listened to Amren's words.

--------------

"Shit."

Azriel's curse hit Elain's ears, before her arm hit the rock as she fell on her face right into the lake.

They had been training for weeks now. At first, it was more about how to summon her wings and keep them up instead of resting on the ground.

Sometimes Feyre would join them, or even Nuala and Cerridwen made an appearance for what Cerridwen called "emotional support".

Which means they watched as Elain jumped just to fall right into that gods-damned lake and tried not to laugh. Cerridwen often failed spectacularly at that.

But after one particularly hard training lesson that ended up with more bruises Elain would care to admit, especially to her pride, Cerridwen had come to her room with a gift: a brand new and very pink apron with a winged fawn carefully embroidered at the front, the chain stitches meticulous done.

It was the most ridiculous apron Elain had ever seen - and she wore every chance she got with a stupid smile on her face.

But most of the time it was only Azriel and her. First they would stick to training, and she was able to focus only on the lessons. Until one day they had sat side by side at the shore, talking about everything and nothing, and, gods, she had missed him.

But then she felt that ravenous pull towards him and had to look away, before she could do something stupid again - and just like that she remembered why they had kept their distance in the first place.

She knew he desired her just as she desired him. She had seen the longing in his face, and had smelled his scent that night, darker than usual. Had read the hunger shining in his eyes as he looked at her.

But she had crossed a line he didn't want to cross.

Good thing now she had other things to worry about. Like ignoring the pain in her left arm, finding her way to the surface to get the hell out of that chilling lake.

But before she could do any of those things, Elain found herself looking at the sky and then the ground was beneath her.

And a very, very shirtless Azriel was by her side. "Are you alright?" he asked, wrapping his tunic around her shoulders, scanning for injuries.

Even with her teeth almost chattering off her mouth from the cold, Elain couldn't help but take one good look at his muscled chest, those intricate tattoos on display and she felt her face heating. Not from embarrassment, but from pure desire that was pounding in her blood, traveling through her body. All she wanted in that moment, and so many before that, was to touch him, taste him. Be with him, by his side.

She imagined what would be like to have that powerful body hovering over hers.

Then she blushed a bit at those thoughts, too.

"I"m fine," she blurted after a considerable time, enough to make Azriel blush as well. And make her consider throwing herself at the lake again.

To distract herself, Elain closed her eyes and accessed that flame in her chest, letting it shine bright inside her, waves of heat running through her veins and bones until she was no longer cold.

When she looked at Azriel, he was already watching her. He cleaned his throat. "You kept yourself on the air longer this time."

Elain raised an eyebrow, "I fell on the only rock in this entire river."

A gleam shone in his eyes.

Elain narrowed hers at him.

"Are you trying not to laugh?"

"No," he said, clapping his lips together.

Every pound of desire in her blood died. "You said it wasn't funny anymore after the first four times!"

At that, Azriel tipped his head back and busted out such a rich laugh, that even Elain couldn't stop the small smile on her own lips. "You are a terrible teacher."

Except that he wasn't. Azriel was patient and thoughtful. He had refused to let her practice anywhere but the lake, and when she said she didn't need to be coddled and could practice on land, he had scanned her face, so many emotions passing across his, and told her he wouldn't see her getting hurt.

So they practice on the lake. Every day.

That was weeks ago and Elain was starting to think she would never take to the skies. She still couldn't sustain herself on the air for more than a few seconds.

"What is it like? To fly, I mean." she asked, eyes fixing on the lake before her.

She felt Azriel's eyes on her. "It 's freedom." Truth echoed in his words.

Elain nodded to herself. "I can hear the wind calling me." Her wing ruffled as if in emphasis."I can feel every muscle in my body begging me to jump out of the windows and it just… it's getting harder to ignore."

Elain tried to stop the burning in her eyes, her voice was broken when she breathed, "Why me, if I can't even get close to being airborne for more than five seconds?"

Azriel kept silent for so long, she didn't know if he heard her, but she was too much of a coward to look at him. Didn't want to look at him, not like this, not again.

But then gentle fingers found her chin and slowly turned her head to meet hazel eyes shining bright as the sun above them.

"Come with me."

Next thing she knew she was taking his extended hand and he shot to the skies, his tunic flying from her shoulders while she was being cradled against his bare chest.

Even though he was made of muscles hard as rock, his skin was warm and soft as the finest velvet.

Azriel landed right on the top of one of the highest mountains surrounding Velaris, the city bursting with life so far below that it seemed one of Nyx's toys.

And Elain almost stopped breathing. "Are you going to push me?"

Azriel chuckled, but didn't answer. "Turn around and close your eyes."

"So you definitely are going to push me," she murmured, but did as she was told.

She didn't know what she was expecting, but it wasn't Azriel's large hands on her waist or the warmth of his body behind her.

"Spread your wings."

The moment Elain opened her wings, the cold, impetuous wind hit them, and the full impact made her lose balance, almost falling backwards. Instead, she met Azriel's chest and his hands tightened on her.

This time Elain did stop breathing.

Especially when Azriel's breath caressed the

shell of her ear. "Focus on the wind passing through your wings, how each feather answers to it. Try to understand its direction, its temperature."

So she did. And she could feel it. She could feel the most external layer of feathers absorbing the temperature impact of the icy wind. Could feel the most little plumes, so sensitive they could perceive the slight change in any air current direction.

She became aware of everything around her. But mostly of the heat emanating from Azriel's body on her back, of his thumbs now drawing small circles on her sides.

"When I was a boy, I used to think the same thing as you do now," he whispered. "I was locked away and had to suppress so many instincts…" He let out a breath. "These wings are yours and only yours, you command them. It might take some time, but you will fly and control your powers. Be patient. You can do whatever you want, Elain."

It was his words, the meaning. He believed in her, had always believed in her.It was that certainty that had her leaning into his touch.

She folded in her wings and tilted her head, slowly opening her eyes to find his beautiful face inches from hers, close enough for her to see the hues of green in his eyes.

"Thank you," she breathed.

Azriel said nothing. No, he just let every word shine in his gaze as he leaned down and brushed his nose against hers while his thumbs were still caressing her sides leisurely.

She sucked in a breath, eyes falling close as she lost herself at the pure intimacy of that touch. Elain's whole body went molten and she wanted nothing more than to melt against his chest.

But she couldn't cross that line again.

So she pulled back, just enough to look at his face and made herself say, "I think Nesta is waiting for me."

Shadows darkened his hazel eyes. "Right."

On their way to the House of Wind, she thought Azriel would keep silent but he surprised her when he said quietly, "Nuala and Cerridwen never told me you were training with them."

Despite everything, a faint smile curved Elain's lips. "You can't expect to know everyone secrets."

He lifted an eyebrow. "That's my job."

And Nuala and Cerridwen's, too.

"I don't want to be a warrior," Elain blurted. "But… maybe I can use my gifts - my sight gifts, I mean - to..."

A whisper of those shadows still filled his gaze, but Azriel gave her a small smile. "Like spying?"

Elain blushed. "Perhaps."

"You'd make a good spy, but you have to be patient."

Elain looked at him. At that male who had intrigued her and made her feel comfortable and safe from the very beginning. At that male who found her when no one else would, who had seen her. Had truly seen her.

No, she wouldn't cross that line now, but...

"I can be patient, Azriel," she breathed. Promised.

This time, hope shone so brightly in his hazel eyes that no room was left for shadows.

#elriel #elriel fanfic #elriel fic #elriel month #azriel x elain #elain x azriel #elrielmonth

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cherryblossomtease · 3 years

Text

Chapter 14

18 + only

warnings and summary - Masterlist

Warnings: 18+only for explicit sexual content: depictions of sub/dom lifestyle and m/m sexual relationship. If it’s not your thing please keep scrolling. Thank you!

Authors notes: Have I mentioned how confused I was when I first discovered WinterBaron, not because of some boring silly ideas that these men aren't in love, because of course they are. But because everyone apparently thought felt Bucky would be the dominant one? I mean of course to each their own, if that's what gets you there, no shame! But have you ever looked into Helmut Zemo's eyes? Half way through episode three of FATWS (strut to the helicopter anyone?) and I was all "yes daddy" That man is not to be taken lightly. Bucky however is soft and sweet and wants to be held; after you teach him a lesson of course... All that aside I promise I'm working on the conclusion to this story with --shocker-- yet another chapter already brewing. I swear I thought this was over but it looks like I've gotten a taste of their love and I'm not letting go any time soon. I've grown very attached to this trio and I won't be saying goodbye quite yet, segue into saying hi to my new followers! Love you and thanks for taking the time to read! I really do appreciate it. Now, like I said, don't read this trash in public, it ain't proper *wink*

Sorry that I had to edit so much for tumblr reasons lol

At first you hadn’t been sure it was going to be this way again. Zemo seemed so gentle and different which you didn’t mind, but the second he looked at you from the water, you knew and you were so glad for it. You would be his no matter what, but you did so love it when he made you beg.

After drying off and tossing on his cream button down, not bothering with said buttons thank the stars, Zemo started to lead the way through the lounge towards the dinner table but stopped and turned to look at you both with a little smile hinting at his dark intentions.

“What is it?” Bucky asked. He’d taken his wet things off and was in nothing but a towel waiting on Oeznik to bring up dry clothes. Both you and Zemo kept looking him over.

“I was gone for a year James. I’m well aware of how it was between you two.” Zemo says with a dismissive snicker.

Bucky steps back squaring his shoulders ready to defend himself. No one is hiding anything, but of course there is always the worry that feelings have changed now that Zemo is out.

The Baron holds up a hand laughing a little as he shakes his head. “No, I’m not mad, I’m happy you had one another, it is— exactly what I wanted.” Zemo assures you both and Bucky exhales. Zemo looks at you. “I would assume it was different from what we had?”

“Yes, sometimes similar but never the exact same” You answer honestly.

He nods glancing at Bucky sizing him up.

He knows this man could never stand dominating you the way he does, he’s not the sort. Bucky is a physical force of nature, but that’s just it. He's the sort who takes commands not gives them. Still it seems Zemo wants to be sure so he looks at you again. “If this is more to your liking, or if your wants have changed, please. You know I will never force you to do anything. People’s taste change and maybe yours have as well. This life can lose its appeal over time.”

You stop him by stepping forward and take his hand while looking into his eyes and smile sweetly. Slowly, so that he may see just how much you want this, you go down onto your knees, lift his hand, part your lips and suck his thumb into your mouth. The familiar way his fingers cradle your chin make you moan a little as you think about having another part of him. You look up knowing how you must look from this position and Zemo’s jaw muscles flex as he comes closer gazing down on you. His fingers press into your face and when you swirl your tongue around his thumb he shuts his eyes for just a few seconds with a deep sigh at the feel of being reunited with you in this way.

The weight of his other hand on your head tells you to stop and he pulls his thumb free, the wet finger stroking your cheek as he stares down at you, so pleased and relieved to know that you’re still committed to be being his so completely.

“You will need new rules” He says faintly. His voice is tight and you know he wants you here and now, though you can’t see his face anymore because your head is bowed to the man you belong to. The man you obey.

“Yes Baron.” You say, your wide smile hidden from both of them.

“James?” He says stepping away from you, his fingers lingering just a second longer. “I know you enjoyed our times together with her, but…”

“I have to say yes or else it can’t happen.” Bucky finishes for him.

“Exactly.”

“Do I have to get on my knees right now?”

Zemo laughs. “No, not right now. But you will have to learn to listen if this is what you want.”

You want to look so badly. Bucky is going to struggle with it at first. “Yeah well, it’s not like you have’t told me what to do before.” His snark is playful but you know Zemo won’t like it.

“James.”

“I’m kidding.”

“And I’m serious.”

“I know,” He says letting the jokes fade. “And I actually appreciate it. I’m just. Well, it’s new. Maybe I’m a little nervous.” He admits quietly and its so cute you smile wanting to hug him, but Zemo has it covered.

You hear his smile as he speaks and imagine the way he must be standing close, brown eyes gazing into blue. “That's perfectly natural. But you don’t need to fear me, just obey me and everything will be fine.”

“And if I don’t?”

“You’ll find out.”

“What if it’s too much.”

“You already know, I will never go beyond what you can handle. That’s why I need to know now James. Yes— or no.”

Their voices are so low, they are just above a whisper. When you glance up you feel your heart flutter at the sight of Bucky in his arms just as you’d imagined, Zemo waiting patiently, Bucky already looking so soft under his gaze.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes” He says with confidence. You look back down and hear the muffled sound of their colliding kiss.

Now what is it they always say? Rules are meant to be broken? You certainly had fun testing the limits at the start of your relationship with Zemo. Well, the Baron must really love a challenge because it seems you and Bucky are cut from the same cloth. Two little shit starters who like to push the limits.

No sooner had Zemo laid out the rules and quite clearly over a lovely plate of hors d’oeuvres and a newly opened bottle of vintage red at the dinner table did Bucky get himself in trouble.

Maybe it's because you only have two rules aboard the ship, but you thought they were fairly simple to follow to be honest.

Never say no to the Baron —safe word, colors and song being the only exception and, don’t fuck James without Helmut’s permission. Simple, somewhat annoying, but that was part of the fun.

And for Bucky;

Rule one; Never question what I do to her.

Rule two; Never say no to me— safe words, colors and song being the only exception

Rule three; Do not fuck her unless I say that you may.

Rule four: Do not come without my permission

He’d said them while pacing calmly behind Bucky who was sitting at the table acting a little too nonchalant about it all.

Zemo could sense his nervous bravado and leaned over Bucky sliding his hand into that thick head of hair, slowly pulling the soldier’s head back. “Shall we see how good you are at following the rules?” He’d hissed in his ear.

You’d watched feeling your own body tense. Please dear god Bucky break at least one you thought hiding your grin.

Of course he broken a rule. How could he not, it was all too tempting. The sad thing is you’re not sure if he really meant to.

It was over dinner— desert actually.

Chocolate mousse, your favorite which the Baron knew. He loves to toy with you, and always has, making you do little things before you’re allowed to indulge. Not out of any need to deny you food, it wasn’t the food, it was the control and your lack of it. He’ll probably do the same with the tv or books whatever it is you want you’ll have to earn it playing his little games.

Tonight to ease back into the life you’d both been forced to set aside, he’d made you sit on your hands like a shamed school girl until he and Bucky had finished their desert first.

Bucky however thought this was a little unnecessarily sexist and cruel and said as much which broke rule number one. Never question what I do to her.

“Oh come on, don’t be an ass” He’d grumbled spooning another bite into his mouth while you sat peeking up though your head stayed down. He will pay for that, you thought feeling the warm breeze stir as the yacht pressed on towards the setting sun.

Helmut said nothing. In fact, he sat in silence just waiting, letting Bucky finish. When he was all done, Zemo smiled. “Good?” He asks.

Finally you think. Let it start.

“The mousse?”

He nods.

“Yeah, great actually.”

“Good. Why don’t you go and feed it to her.” He says “Since you're so concerned.”

Bucky glances at you sitting there waiting patiently, trying to ignore the throbbing between your legs. “All right?”

He gets up, rounds the table and grabs a chair.

“No. On your knees.” Comes the voice of authority.

Bucky pauses, but he does in fact let go of the chair, turns yours around with you in it and gets down in front of you. You glance up at him and he gives you a quick smile.

Opening your mouth you let him spoon the first bite in and it tastes even better than you’d expected.

“Open your legs.” Helmut tells you. Of course you do. “Pull the suit away and look at her.” He says to Bucky.

You see Bucky hesitate, but he does and the air brushes your exposed skin. You take a deep breath in knowing they both see the way you pulse under their lustful gaze. “Do you see how wet this makes her?” Helmut asks, his voice is low.

Bucky’s pupils dilate, his fingers grip your thigh. “Yes.”

“Look at her and remember that this is what she likes, what she wants, what she has been waiting to have. Stop trying to save a woman who doesn’t want to be saved James.”

You watch his eyes and see him wrestling with the truth of that lovely slick and sticky sweetness that you know he wants to touch. This had been exclusively his for a year. He knows exactly what it feels like to dip his fingers in; what it tastes like, what it smells like and how it feels when he bottoms out inside of you and you say his name, not his silly nickname. His real name. Now he knows that he will have to wait until another man tells him when he can have that again-- and that you like it.

When he exhales slowly, daring to run his thumb across your now throbbing clit, you know that he likes it too.

“Finish.”

Bucky glances up at you one last time and sees how you’re trying not to make a sound. He lets go and the bathing suit covers you again. You relax and slowly open your mouth, hoping he does truly understand. You still love him. You’re still his as much as you are Zemo’s but you were Zemo’s first. You will always be Zemo's and you will always play by his rules.

Bucky tips the cool spoon into your mouth and you pull the chocolate from the silver.

“Did you like it?” Helmut asks.

You open your eyes and nod.

“Answer me.”

“Yes Barron.” You say around the bite.

He comes up behind Bucky and smooths his hand over the mans head, and down along the back of his neck gripping. He holds him as leans down to speak in his ear. “I know it’s your first time, so I will make allowances tonight, and tonight only. But I can not have you pushing back, thinking you can break rules when we’ve not even started, yes?”

You’re practically on the edge of your seat wondering what he’ll say. He’s still looking at you and for a second you think it might be too much for him.

“Yes.” He says quietly.

“Yes, what?” Helmut asks moving around to his side.

Bucky looks up, and you see it, the moment he looks into Helmut’s soft brown eyes which are no more than a lure to draw his willing victims in and says, “Yes Baron.”

“Good.” He knows now and so do you. Bucky is truly his. Helmut savors this as much as you did that spoon fed chocolate. You can see the hairs on his arms rise with a chill and his eyelids lower as he stares at this man you’re sure he’s spent as much time thinking of as he has you, possibly more. “Go downstairs to our bedroom.” He tells Bucky who seems surprisingly meek when Helmut hold his face this way; clutched tight in his grasp like an angry headmaster “Strip down to your underwear, place your hands behind your back, and wait in the center of the room.”

Zemo’s eyes scan the striking face of the soldier he once controlled against his will, so happy to know that this time he’s given himself to the Baron of his own volition.

You don’t look at him when you are led into the room, you keep your head down and let Zemo guide you straight to the bed where he sits you down and turns his attention to the man waiting.

Only then do you dare to peek over at Bucky still standing like a silent guard. He’s got his hands behind his back and has undressed, just as he was told to do. You can see that his cock is as hard as stone beneath his black boxer briefs; and with him unable to do anything about it.

All you can do is smile. After Zemo is done with him you’re sure he’ll learn his lesson, or exactly how to break the rules again and again.

Looking from one pet to the other, Zemo gives a little sigh. It’s the sound of man spoiled by too many toys. “Come here.” He says.

Obediently, Bucky walks over, the look on his face somewhat serious but it’s clear his defenses are all but forgotten.

“Have you decided how this will play out yet?” Zemo asks once he’s standing in front of you both. Bucky looks Zemo over and for a split second you remember that he could easily overpower the Baron and you worry, but when he lowers his head and drops his shoulders, nodding just a little you smile remembering that he did not come here for that. You saw the way his heart broke when they took Zemo off to prison. You saw the way he smiled when he didn’t know you where looking as he held his phone and stared down at that text, it was the same way he looked at Zemo when he first showed his face this morning and you saw that beautiful kiss between them. He’s all in. He wants to belong to the Baron just as you do.

“I’m sorry.” He says quietly and Zemo smiles.

“Thank you for the apology. But you broke a rule James. That can not go unpunished.”

Bucky glances up looking slightly worried.

“There is a way to go about this so that you will learn.” Zemo says smiling down at the high peak of Bucky’s underwear. “Your impatient cock will have to wait. Blame your eager mouth,” He shrugs causally “You see, if you insist on opening it, you will learn to do so for a good reason instead of breaking my rules,” He says and quickly grabs Bucky's throat surpassing him as he leans in just an inch. “Tonight James, you will learn your lesson on your knees, beneath me where you belong. Kneel.”

“What is your safe word?” Zemo asks looking down into Bucky’s wide blue eyes.

“Streusel.”

Zemo nods and takes Bucky’s face in hand holding his chin, their eyes fixed on one another. “And what are the colors?”

“Green is go, yellow is slow down and red is stop.”

“And if you can’t speak?”

“I— hum Penny’s from heaven.” He says it feeling silly but knows he might need it tonight.

Stroking his face with the side of his index finger while loosening his shorts with the other, the Baron sighs. “You know that I care for you very much?” He asks slipping his hand beneath the waistband.

“I do.” Bucky says and the way he looks at the Baron shows that he feels the same.

“You know that I care for you both. That is why this works. That is the only way that any of this works. Without it and without the trust this ends.”

“I understand.” Bucky answers softly and turns his face just a little to let his lips brush Zemo’s palm with a kiss.

Helmut’s eyes flit shut with the delicate display of intimacy. His fingers massage Bucky’s temple inching up into his hair and for a moment he just lets the affection between them be enough.

“Good.” He finally answers, his voice low and bends to kiss Bucky’s forehead. When he stands again, the warmth has drained from his touch and his eyes. “Now, open your mouth."

Bucky’s shoulder is hot beneath your ear as you lean against him. You can’t reach wide enough to hold him in your arms but you try. The sound of him choking makes you shut you eyes focusing on the shared experience of knowing what it’s like to try and swallow the relentless thrusting of that damned cock and you moan softly in harmony with him. You lift your gaze, thrilled by the sight of his shining black hand veined in gold, braced against Zemo’s flexed thigh.

The pumping into his mouth slows letting him breathe some and you watch wanting to see the way his cheeks hollow when he slides his mouth back and forth.

His closed eyes open, looking up, wanting approval. Helmut gives it by closing his own hands to fists in Bucky’s hair. He shoves in slowly, going as deep as Bucky will take him in, fucking his throat until you hear the faint sound of gagging and a strangled attempt to hum his song. The notes are ragged and you worry Zemo won’t hear. You lay your hand on the Baron’s stomach tapping.

Ever the trustful dominant, Zemo stops and pulls his shining, solid member free, breathing hard, a little sad that he has to, but never one to cross that line.

Bucky drops his head gasping for air, his hands on his thighs as he shakes his head like he thought he knew what he was in for and is realizing how mistaken he was. You look up rubbing the small of his back.

Zemo is assessing as he always does with you. Checking to make sure he hasn’t gone too far because he longs to go farther. But he knows this is the first time his soldier has ever been used so relentlessly. And then you see a smile twitch at the corner of Zemo’s lips and the look of concern melts away.

Bucky has recovered and seems more than willing to take the rest of his “punishment.” He drags the back of his hand across his mouth tilts his head and opens up letting his tongue hang out to make way for the large occupant; the sight is so pretty you think if you had a cock you’d probably shove it in there too which makes you giggle quietly.

Zemo sighs and grabs him, guiding himself into the waiting mouth of the man so eager and ready to satisfy that you think it will not be long now. You know the Baron well and while he’s a master of restraint, this is too much for anyone.

You go up onto your knees kissing Bucky’s face as he sucks, stroking his hair, moaning softly into his ear, biting, licking, teasing him to give him some pleasure too. But you don’t dare touch his stone hard erection though for fear he’ll come and you will be in a world of trouble for breaking Zemo’s rules; so instead you rub your hand up the solid muscle of his thigh smiling when he makes the sweet sounds of someone overwhelmed and loving every second of it.

Zemo’s pace quickens and you back away a little watching, awed and damn near dripping wet. You wince for Bucky and wonder how you’ve ever managed to do this. It looks so intense when you’re on the outside looking in. Still, your hand slips down between your legs. Watching Helmut have his way with a man as strong as this one has you unable to resist, and you aren't the one unable to come when you want.

Zemo notices how you've got your hand under your suit and his moan is loud enough to get your attention. He suddenly grabs Bucky’s head holding him steady, making him give a muffled shout and you go back up onto your knees forgetting about your own pleasure, laying your hand on his chest, feeling his heart pound under your palm, your lips grazing the warmth of his skin as he tries to pull way from the Baron just once in some reflexive attempt to escape this inevitable moment, but it’s too late and he digs the fingers of his natural hand into Helmut’s thigh with a sound, something like a shout of surprise but he can not move.

The absent stroking of Bucky’s hair is some half hearted attempt to quiet him but it actually helps and he relaxes, moaning long and low as Zemo draws in a ragged breath between his teeth and holds it in as every muscle in his body flexes.

Bucky starts to swallow and you watch the way he accepts every warm shot so willingly now, all fight in him gone, even the way he holds onto the Baron has changed. He seems to be urging him to —go on —give me more.

You feel the fluttering in your stomach in this quiet moment even though your heart is pounding and your hand quickly slips back down. You won’t be able to finish but it still feels incredible.

They both tense with the last of it, Bucky grabbing Zemo’s ass holding him close now that it’s over and the Baron relaxes with a light laugh as he slowly pulls himself free.“Well done James,” He exhales closing his eyes. “That was— perfect.” He smiles opening them and steps back catching his breath “On your feet” He finally says.

Bucky pushes up to standing.

“You too,” He tells you.

Bucky holds out his hand which you take and he pulls you up easily. You stand in silence together.

“Continue like this, and perhaps I’ll let you come tomorrow.” Zemo says to Bucky.

He kisses your cheek, smiles at you both, knowing that he’s left his new sub confused and sexually frustrated, turns and finds his drink on the table and his robe hanging on the master bath door before going off to take a shower.

“Did you think I’d forgotten about you?” He asks, his breath warm in your ear.

You shake your head no even though it’s hard with his hand so tight around your neck.

“No, never, I will always satisfy you.” He says and kisses you deeply.

“Are you going to come?” Helmut asks looking down to see his hand at work rubbing your pussy. Your knees part and your hips raise in response to the light smacks he gives your hot divide.

Bucky sighs, lost in his own agony of only being allowed to watch.

You’re a moaning, whimpering mess gasping and crying out the second Helmut thumbs your clit again. He smacks and your legs close reflexively “Open” He says and you do. He gives two more and your thighs are shaking as the pressure mounts.

“That’s it, come, come for me, and for him. Come for him because he can’t” Helmut says smiling cruelly at Bucky.

You’re too close to feel sympathy, you feel only your Baron’s skilled hand and the way he circles your hard clit with his middle finger with the perfect amount of pressure until the dam gives way and you come with a scream and deep pulsing burst wetting his fingers and the sheet, your entire body flexing in rhythm with the orgasm until you shiver and sink down still gasping.

Helmut kisses you lightly smiling. “I have missed doing that to you.”

You give a breathy smile with your eyes closed feeling your breast shake as you do with the residual quakes of pleasure. You can not remember the last time you've come that hard.

“A reminder of what satisfaction tastes like” Helmut says and you open your eyes to find him reaching towards Bucky.

You don’t think he’ll do it, but he is learning submission from you. He opens his mouth and sucks Zemo’s middle finger, his moan soft but slightly pained.

“Soon James.” Helmut says, his expression alternating between arousal and empathy. “Soon.”

Late in the night well after the three of you have cleaned up and gone to bed, you wake up between them feeling so thirsty you have to go up for a bottle of water from the small fridge and come back to find the bed you share empty.

Confused at first, you hear their voices out on the balcony and quietly make your way over.

“I won’t ever hurt you more than you want me to.” You hear Zemo say with the sleepy smile in his voice.

“I know.” Bucky says sounding relaxed. It’s the same way he sounds with you, and you are relieved that there seem to be no true hard feelings after his first taste of submission tonight.

“I am happy you decided to come, you know that, right? There were times I didn’t think you would.” Zemo says.

“There were times that I didn’t know what I would do if you got out. I think it came down to those last few seconds.”

“Are you sure about that?” Zemo asks, clearly not believing him.

There is a long pause and you smile at the door. He knew he was going to come the second he turned you over, You think standing in the shadows.

Helmut is laying back on the low, wide sofa, one arm resting on the back, the other across Bucky’s chest, one leg bent at the knee, the other over the edge. You like the way he sort of absently strokes the vibranium shoulder. You do the same thing, You both know Bucky can’t feel it but you both like the way the cool metal calms you, and Bucky… he’s so relaxed. His back to Zemo’s chest, that powerful limb wrapped around the Barons leg, the other resting across his own stomach. They look so peaceful that you hate they’ve spotted you before you can sneak back into bed.

Bucky calls for you to join them which you do now that they both insist so you come out. You hop onto the sofa with all the enthusiasm of a joining a sleepover.

Bucky’s chest offers a solid, familiar warmth and you sigh happily as he strokes your hair while you watch the stars slowly floating by.

They shift the conversation now and start talking about the mechanics of ships of all things and you think how lovely it is that they have one another to be boring with, and how lucky you are to have two men with such beautifully relaxing voices.

Sleep takes you easily, and when you wake again you’re being carried into the room by one metal arm and one flesh and laid down in the bed— the comfort of their bodies surrounding you with safety and love.

To be continued...

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