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sourcherryandsprinkles · 6 months ago

Note

i’m visualizing a fic where reader goes off to fight with their dragon and comes back to jace being furious that she would endanger herself and feelings are revealed…. can you make that happen? xx🙈

Request: Being dragonseed and getting close to jace during the trainings. Maybe she claimed silverwing or vermithor? She goes to battle while he is not there and jace is STRESSED

Request: Jace sneaking out to check on the girl he secretly loves

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When Jacaerys took it upon himself to teach and train the dragonseeds, he didn’t think his loyalty to his betrothed would be challenged. Since the beginning of war, his bond with Baela became stronger and they got closer, but as he watched you atop Silverwing, hair in the wind and soaring over the water, he felt things he never felt before.

Was it the blood of the dragon, although thin, that was calling to him? Or was it the sight of a woman on a large dragon? Jacaerys couldn’t tell. What he knew was that he never felt that way when Baela was riding Moondancer.

‘’What do you mean, she went to the Riverlands?’’ he shouted at his mother, all manners forgotten.

Rhaenyra met his glare with a calm gaze. ‘’The Greens are marching up to Harrenhal. I sent her to meet their army before they reach the Riverlands.’’

‘’And what of Vhagar?’’ Jacaerys continued, his voice rising as he thought of the beast that had devoured his little brother and his dragon in a single bite. ‘’They know Daemon has taken Harrenhal. Undoubtedly, they brought their biggest dragon to fight him.’’

Rhaenyra hummed thoughtfully. ‘’It is a high possibility, but Silverwing is a large dragon, as you said yourself. Y/N will handle Vhagar if Aemond dares showing up.’’

‘’She is not ready to go to battle.’’ Jacaerys’s fists clenched at his sides, making up the worst scenarios in his mind. ‘’You sent her to her death!’’

‘’I needed to send a dragon. It was Silverwing or Vermithor.’’

‘’Why did you not send Vermithor?’’

‘’Because I didn’t want to reveal our biggest asset to the enemy,’’ Rhaenyra said, her brow furrowing as she noticed her son’s agitation. ‘’Why are you so agitated? The dragonseeds were your idea, Jace. We have to send them on the battlefield at some point.’’

The reasons the search for dragonseeds began was to get more dragons on their team, but also to not risk their own in battle by using those with blood 'thinner' than their own as fodder. It was selfish and evil, but losses are inevitable during a war. Better be a stranger than someone you love.

But now, his plan had backfired.

‘’She’s not just a dragonseed!’’ Jacaerys snapped, his eyes blazing with anger and worry. ‘’She’s—’’ He stopped himself, realizing how much he had revealed in his fury and the implication of what he was about to say.

Rhaenyra spoke his name softly, finally figuring the nature of her son’s worries, but he turned away, unable to look his mother in the eye.

⁂

When night came, Jacaerys was unable to sleep, tossing and turning in his bed. All he could think about was you fighting against Vhagar…and losing.

If you didn’t return from the Riverlands, he would never forgive himself for encouraging you to claim Silverwing.

Finally, Jacaerys could not take it anymore. He sprung out of his bed, changed into his riding clothes and slipped on a cloak. Quietly, he sneaked out of his quarters and started heading towards the hills where he knew Vermax liked to sleep. Rhaenyra would be furious in the morning when finding out he went to the Riverlands without her approval, but he needed to go to you.

‘’Lyka (quiet), Vermax,’’ Jacaerys said as he mounted the dragon, not wishing to alert anyone of his nightly adventure. The poor thing was whining and confused why his rider was waking him, but obeyed his command.

They set out into the night, flying towards the northwest. The wind was cold, biting through Jacaerys' cloak, and the darkness was absolute with no moon to guide their way. The only sound was the rhythmic beating of Vermax's wings, cutting through the icy air.

After what felt like hours of flying blindly in the night, Vermax began to screech, a high-pitched, urgent sound that pierced the silence.

‘’Sagon gīda (be calm), Vermax,’’ Jacaerys commanded, trying to calm his dragon. But Vermax continued screeching, his eyes darting around as if he had seen something human eyes couldn’t. ‘’What is it, Vermax?’’

Vermax's screeches grew louder, more insistent, and Jacaerys felt a surge of unease. He strained his eyes, peering into the inky blackness, but saw nothing. He knew that dragons had senses far keener than humans, capable of detecting things long before they were visible.

‘’What do you see?” he muttered, more to himself than to Vermax, as he tried to understand his dragon’s distress.

Vermax couldn't understand the common tongue, but his behavior made it clear that something was wrong. He twisted his head, sniffing the air, and let out another screech, this one more urgent and filled with warning.

Jacaerys suddenly realized what it could mean: Vermax had detected the scent of another dragon.

His heart pounded in his chest as he tightened his grip on the reins, scanning the dark skies for any sign of movement. The thought of encountering Vhagar in the pitch-black night sent a shiver down his spine. He tightened his grip on the handles, trying to steady both his dragon and himself.

Then, through the darkness, he saw a faint, silvery glimmer. Realization struck him hard.

‘’Silverwing,’’ he breathed, understanding now what Vermax had sensed.

Immediately, Jacaerys commanded Vermax to descend. He didn’t know where he was, but he knew that he had not reached the Riverlands yet. If Silverwing was down here, it could mean you were injured. Dragons were known to stay by their rider's side and guard them when they were vulnerable — or dying.

The prince's heart raced as they descended, his mind filled with worry. As soon as Vermax touched ground, he dismounted and scanned the area frantically, searching for you.

Silverwing screeched loudly when Jacaerys got close, the sound stirring you from your sleep and snapping into alert. You reached for your dagger sheated at your hip, ready to stab whoever would try to get close.

‘’It’s me,’’ Jacaerys quickly said before you could touch him.

‘’Prince Jacaerys?’’ you said with a frown. ‘’Has Her Grace sent you looking for me?’’

Jacaerys stayed silent. His mother did not care much for you — or any of the dragonseeds.

The sight of blood on your hands sent his heart into a frenzy. ‘’Are you hurt? What has happened?’’

He kneeled beside you, and you let out a small hiss. ‘’I'm not on my deathbed, my Prince,’’ you reassured. ‘’I saw the Green's army marching to the Riverlands. They were definitely surprised to see a new dragon had been claimed by the Blacks. I engaged in battle, burning several of them, but their archers started shooting arrows at us. Silverwing dodged them the best she could, but I received one in my leg…’’ You glanced down where the arrow used to be, blood seeping through your clothes and down your leg. ‘’I know I should not have taken it out, but the pain was too much.’’

‘’It’s okay.’’ Jacaerys drew his sword to cut a piece of his cloak to make a bandage for your leg. ‘’All that matters is that you’re alive.’’ He began wrapping the piece of his cloak tightly around your wounded leg, but not so tight it would cause you more pain. ‘’I…I was worried about you.’’

You raised an eyebrow at the prince. ‘’Me?’’

He looked at you for a moment, his gaze flickering between your face and your wounded leg. ‘’Don't do that again. Going alone in a battle. What is Vhagar had been there?’’

‘’Why? Because I’m a woman?’’

‘’No.’’ Jacaerys shook his head. ‘’No, that’s not— When I didn’t see you at training this morning, I thought you were in the village helping your parents with the sheeps. But Baela informed me that you had been sent to the Riverlands at first light to meet the Greens and all I could think about was Rook’s Rest. What Vhagar did to Luke, and Rhaenys… Gods, if you were the next to fall, I would not handle it.’’

You huffed, not believing him. ‘’Aren’t I just a paw in your mother’s war? I’m not stupid, my Prince. Dragonseeds don’t matter to Her Grace. She just want the power of our dragons.’’

‘’I care. I care about you. I care so much about you that I could not sleep without knowing if you were okay. I would not have taken flight in the middle of the night if I didn’t care about you.’’

His words hung in the dark night, the air filled with his confession. Your heart stuttered in your chest as you processed his sudden confession. This conversation felt like forbidden territory. You were a shepherd’s daughter and he was a highborn prince, betrothed to a princess.

‘’You…you shouldn’t say things like that,’’ you finally murmured, averting your eyes from the intensity of his gaze. You tried to hide the fact that his words made you feel things you shouldn’t.

Jacaerys took a deep breath, then slowly reached out to tilt your chin, his fingertips gently tracing over your skin. ‘’I should, because it’s how I feel.’’ He leaned closer. His fingers grazed your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

‘’What of Baela?’’ you managed to ask, your heart beating wildly in your chest, torn between desire and loyalty.

He shook his head, his gaze locked with yours. ‘’I don’t feel strongly for Baela the way I do for you,’’ he confessed.

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard@domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios@lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden @memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08 @mymultiveres @secretsthathauntus @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @katiepie67 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection @withfireandbl00d @randomstory56 @JudgmentDays-Girl @darylandbethfanforever9 @darylandbethfanforever9 @aegonswife @dakotapaigelove @jays-bullshit @blublock404 @Icefyre19 @paulilvsremus @mfedits @aemondwhoresworld @angrybirdxx @YarianyIrizarry @frutiloopslupin @minedofmoria @aleemendoza2425-blog @quinquinquincy @Rosey1981 @maria-reads-everything @eddieslut69 @barnes70stark @baybaybear @prettyduckling22 @Briefwinnerpersonaturtle @darlingcharling-blog @deliaseastar @Wolfgirl-205 @visenyareads @Nanaldy @Lovelywiseprincess @not-neverland06 @newtmyhusb @mikimimic

All and more taglist: @kenqki@hawkegfs@gillybear17@black-rose-29@fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis @katherinejess @rafesgirlstuff @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity @Anouknani-2305 @books0fever @papichulo120627 @qardasngan @ghostlyvoidydragon @M0rgans1nterlud3 @dahlia-blossom21 @Spacexdrago @nhlfs

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #prince jacaerys #jacaerys x reader #hotd jacaerys #house of the dragon #hotd

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galactic-rhea · 3 months ago

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you know, maybe I'm wrong, but my interpretation of Anakin/Vader and Redeemed Anakin is that he pretty much is aware he's terrible. He pretty much thinks of himself as a monster even before becoming Vader, he considers himself one as soon as he had to leave Shmi to survive as a slave alone while he got to become The Chosen One and travel the stars (his basic understanding of love is self-sacrifice), he knows the tusken massacre was bad, he knows murdering disarmed Dooku was bad; he knew turning against the jedi and helping Palpatine was bad; he's extremelly self aware of his violence and hates himself for it.

I think it's easy to think of him as nonchalant or as sort of a shameless dick about it all because his General At War Persona was to be jokey and pretend he's having fun. He's very confident on his ability for Murder (tm), he (tragically) became one of the Best general jedis in the order by becoming good at murder, he's useful when he's being murderous at the right people; so he has no doubts on his abilities on this regard; that doesn't mean he isn't aware of how fucked up and cruel it is, but he keeps doing it, and it's all he knows; he was born in violence, raised in violence, taught to yield a extremelly dangerous weapon, groomed into violence, rewarded for violence, cheered for violence, with Ahsoka then he had to teach violence, and then violence just became something that ran in his blood, it came to him easily, too easily because he was never given the means to deal with such a extreme hyperviolent paradigm. So yep, he knows he's good at murder and little self-preservation.

And he probably despised himself for it, he saw himself as less than a being with human rights, he saw himself as a weapon and he hated not being seen as a person, and at some point he became apathic about it, the fight left him as soon as he had no future with a family. As Vader his hate and anger is just cold fury, is mostly apathy and a void of emotions, there's just pain and self-disgust and regret and old anger, there's not even trying to be something else anymore, it's all he's ever been good at and all he's being asked to do.

So redeemed Anakin (which canonically just means Ghost Anakin lmao) acting oblivious or playing the dumb or victim card it's just something I can't even imagine him to do; like Anakin is aware of being violent and messed up and Bad, but he is completely unable to concieve the idea of having been a victim because besides violence, Anakin's other big trait is that he never ever processes trauma and he horrifically has a history of blaming himself instead of the people who owned him.

This guy, when he was at his best as a Jedi, was pathologically prone to suicidal missions even when it wasn't a necessity, he thinks he's an asset, a means for his superiors to impose their stance and chose to own it, instead of blaming his superiors he just hates himself because he can't stop pathetically reliving when he left his mom behind, when he carried her corpse, when he retaliated against even innocents including kids, when he hurt Padmé, all the times he failed, and the he lived in his personal, fitly created just for him, inferno and had no plans to escape it until one certain sunshine farmer showed up, and all because he thinks he deserves the torture and the abuse and being owned because he's just good at murder and nothing else.

So yeah, no one probably hates him more than himself. Someone could tell Ghost Anakin he's a monster, the worst thing that ever happened in the galaxy and he would say "Yes." And no attempts at arguing or whatsoever, his dignity couldn't be lower if he tried, he would half-heartly agree if someone like Luke said the emperor did him wrong by, y'know, torture him? But then he would also say something like "Well, yes, but cruelty is the way of the Sith, what else could be expected", he's just terribly messed up and couldn't stop himself from defending, at least a little, his literal groomer and abuser and master, and he certainly won't expect forgiveness, like,,,,at all. He can, and will, make excuses for people directly hurting him, but he also would retaliate in terrible ways against anyone, guilty or not, if it meant doing it for someone he cared about.

So Anakin is just...used to being used, and falls easily into being used because it's what he knows best, freedom feels useless and uncertain after he lost padmé.

It's an increíble vicious circle: He worked himself hard to be useful because being useful it's what makes people like him and a means of survival, he then hates himself for being just useful and loosing his personhood, and because he hates himself and thinks he doesn't deserve any sort of...human rights, he keeps on being a mere weapon, an object, but what a good and expensive weapon at least, repeat.

So nope, this guy would be completely unable to even dare to play the victim or excuse himself, even less act as if he doesn't understand he did wrong.

#anakin skywalker #darth vader #star wars #rambling #well that was a little longer than i expected #long post #rhea dissects the text

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captinamericashusband · 5 months ago

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Juno | Steve Rogers/Captain America x Male!Reader (SMUT😉)

A/N: Wow another Steve Rogers fic. Anyways this one is smut. Also this is my first ever attempt at writing smut so it's going to be really bad. So enjoy!

Title and plot (loosely) based off of Sabrina Carpenter's new song (stream the album btw or else):

Juno

Word count: 2.8k

Summary: I might let you make me Juno 😉

Warnings: Unprotected sex, oral sex

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“And then he said to me, ‘How about you change your dentures!’” A chorus of laughter erupted from around the table. Among the voices and chuckles was Y/N, sporting a fake laugh to hide the pain he was currently feeling on the inside. He so badly wanted to leave, thinking that laughing at whatever he was presented with would help pass the night.

Y/N was an Avenger. He loved his job – no doubt. He loved being able to help people on a worldwide scale, and the overall idea of doing something that mattered. However, what Y/N didn’t realize was that the fine print of the Avenger’s contract included him forcefully being present at the annual U.S. Defence Symposium Convention, where diplomats and political leaders from around the globe gathered to discuss foreign affairs. While he never had to speak during these conventions, Y/N’s presence was required for Avengers PR reasons. Why it couldn’t be anyone else was a question he’d never find the answer to. Luckily for him, he wasn’t alone this year. Even better for him, he was with his lovely boyfriend.

Y/N glanced towards Steve at the other side of the circular table. Steve was already looking at him, wearing a similar bored expression. The two shared tired smiles. A positive that came with being Captain America’s boyfriend was intimate looks like these, shared across dinner tables, conference meetings, and other situations where they couldn’t be close. Looks and glances that made Y/N feel warm inside. No one else knew, even the team, of their clandestine relationship, afraid of the uproar that would come if it were to become public. The controversy that came with two of the United States’ defensive powerhouses dating – especially considering both were men – was something Y/N chose to think about rarely.

The senator continued his comedically-not-funny joke, and Y/N felt grey hairs growing. He knew he had to leave or he would’ve broken down in tears. As a guest speaker was about to be introduced, Y/N politely excused himself from the table and glanced towards Steve, his eyes already on him. He gave him a wink – a not-so-discrete signal they both came up with before arriving, loosely meaning, ‘I can’t handle this anymore and I need to get the fuck out of here – meet me in the bathroom.’

As he walked through the halls of the large venue, he marvelled at the grandness of the building where the convention was held. While he despised being there, he had to admit the building was architecturally and aesthetically pleasing, being more on the higher end of NYC establishments with its Art Deco-inspired assets. When Y/N made it to the bathroom, he checked beneath the stalls to see if anyone was present before letting out a loud groan. He knew he had to talk to Nick Fury later to discuss his supposedly mandatory attendance at the energy-draining convention. He couldn’t stand another second here. Leaning against the sink, he waited for Steve to arrive.

After about two minutes, the door to the washroom opened, and Y/N was met with Steve's presence. Steve raised his eyebrows, silently asking if anyone else was there, to which Y/N responded by shaking his head. “What did it, huh?” Steve asked, closing the door behind him.

“That geriatric senator, obviously – Senator Shortdick,” Y/N groaned. The senator’s name was actually in fact Dick – something Y/N’s immaturity found astoundingly hilarious. “His very long extended joke about…I don’t even know actually.”

“He was talking about his son, Y/N,” Steve said, walking closer to the other man. “It was a nice story – very wholesome.” When Steve reached Y/N, he wrapped his arms around his waist before giving him a small peck.

Y/N’s eyes met Steve’s, and they both gave each other reassuring smiles. They both desperately wanted to leave, but were aware they legally couldn’t.

“I don’t think I can handle this anymore, Steve,” Y/N’s voice whined, laying his head on Steve’s muscular chest, and caressing his sides. “I need something exciting.” Suddenly, as if he had an epiphany, Y/N conjured a devious idea to pass the time. Looking up at Steve, he gave him a half-lidded look, an action he did in jest whenever he wanted something from him. “We should fuck right now.”

Steve only responded with a bewildered look, slowly shaking his head and reprimanding Y/N’s unsavoury suggestion. “We can’t, Y/N,” he said. “It’s too risky. Not to mention, distasteful – we’re in public.” Steve was the more rational person in their relationship, often taking Y/N’s outrageous ideas to heed.

“Why not, Stevie?” Y/N’s voice feigned softness and seductivity. “Isn’t it exciting,” he started, arms sliding up Steve’s clothed bicep. “The idea of getting caught here.”

“Not really-.” Before Steve could continue, Y/N connected their lips. It started soft – short and sweet – before gradually getting more intense and feverish. Steve pushed the small of Y/N’s back closer, deepening the touch of their lips. Steve wanted Y/N badly, and Y/N was aware of that. He always knew that he had some type of figurative spell over Steve, causing him to be more acquiescent towards him than any other member of the team – even before they started dating. Steve was entirely bewitched by Y/N.

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

The two eventually locked themselves in one of the bathroom stalls, lips already connected and moving together hungrily. Both prayed no toilet would come beckoning some diplomat’s bladder amidst their carnal moment together. As they continued face-fucking each other, Y/N trailed his hands down towards Steve’s pantsuit. He palmed Steve’s already present bulge, rubbing it with the soles of his hand and causing a quiet whimper to leave Steve’s mouth. At hearing Steve’s sultry noise, Y/N felt his cock growing harder and heavier.

Y/N broke their lips’ ravenous movement and began unbuttoning Steve’s tux. “I saw you practically ogling me in there.” He bit one of Steve’s sensitive spots on his neck, eliciting a low groan from his throat. “It’s like you were begging to fuck me with your fuck-me eyes.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Steve panted in response.

“Stay oblivious then, Stevie.” Y/N slipped Steve’s suit off, revealing his muscled buff chest. Not even a second later, Y/N’s mouth began trailing down Steve’s torso. He peppered kisses all over Steve’s chest, going further and further down until he was on his knees. Y/N came face-to-face with Steve’s growing bulge. He salivated, thinking about taking Steve’s entire cock in one go – the idea of hearing Steve’s whimpers made his dick even firmer.

Steve’s gaze was locked on Y/N. His eyes were half-closed, face flushed with both lust and pleasure. Y/N then unbuttoned Steve’s pants before taking them off which revealed Steve’s undergarments. Without sparing another moment, Y/N yanked Steve’s boxers off. Steve’s cock, upon being unclothed, sprung upwards and ached in the cold bathroom air. It begged for attention that Y/N’s mouth was more than willing to give. A slight droplet of precum was already at the slit which made Y/N even more aroused. Not wanting Steve to finish quickly (as if that is even a problem with his serum-induced stamina), Y/N started slow. He gave Steve’s shaft one long lick at the base, relishing the semi-salty taste. Y/N continued licking, throwing occasional glances towards Steve and how he was reacting. The quiet whimpering coming out of Steve’s mouth was evident he wanted – needed more. “Just please take it all, Y/N,” he quietly whined.

Y/N chuckled. He decided Steve had been good tonight and, sparing him from further punishment, took his entire cock in his mouth. A loud moan erupted from Steve to which he quickly clamped his hand over his mouth to silence. Y/N had to adjust to Steve’s size for a moment before doing anything further. Despite having done this several times, Y/N always thought Steve’s dick was maybe too big for him. This wasn’t that much of a problem for him as while he did struggle in throating it, it did make his ass feel good. And very sore afterwards. After a brief moment, Y/N began to slowly move his head up and down Steve’s cock. Steve struggled to quiet down his noises of pleasure as much as Y/N struggled trying not to choke. With each movement of Y/N’s head, Steve was hitting the back of his throat which sent a wave of pleasure down his spine. Steve, however, wanted much more.

To Y/N’s shock, Steve bundled his hands in his H/C locks and shoved him further down his throat. Y/N’s eyes went wide, gagging noises coming from his clogged mouth. Before Y/N could steady himself, Steve began ramming his throat at a rapid speed, his attempt to quiet himself vanishing as he prioritized quickly getting off with Y/N’s mouth. As Steve continued at his pace, he let out breathy moans that were amplified and reverbed by the bathroom’s walls. While Steve was in pure bliss at his cock being serviced, Y/N was not able to cope with the sudden change. His hands were placed on both of Steve’s thighs, trying to steady himself. Tears pricked near the corner of his eyes as his entire buccal cavity and throat continued being ransacked by Steve’s length. Each time Steve’s cock hit the rear of his throat, Steve shuddered and Y/N gagged loudly. As Steve began nearing his climax, he began to go even quicker than his initial speed, causing Y/N’s tears to freefall down his cheeks. With one loud grunt and a sloppy thrust, Steve came down Y/N’s throat. As Y/N felt the warm and salty fluid trail down his throat, Steve’s breaths became more shallow.

Steve leaned against the stall’s door, and a slick ‘pop’ sounded as he took his cock out of Y/N’s mouth. He was still recovering from his orgasm as Y/N quickly got up from his knees and roughly pushed his chest. “Dude!’ Y/N half-yelled. “What the fuck was that? You nearly killed me!”

Steve staggered slightly at Y/N’s hit. He looked at Y/N with a confused expression that quickly vanished upon seeing his tear-stained cheeks. An apologetic look promptly dawned. “Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine it’s just,” Y/N said while wiping his face, “you have to warn me first before you do that.”

“I’m really sorry, Y/N.” Steve did look remorseful. His face looked as if he had accidentally kicked a dog. “We should probably stop now.”

Y/N gave looked at him incredulously. “Are you kidding me?” He pointed sternly towards Steve, his voice coming out furious with a tinge of playfulness. “The only apology I’ll accept now is if you fuck me right here.”

“But, Y/N, I don’t have the…” Steve’s voice trailed off.

“The what, Steve?”

“You know,” Steve said, face slightly pink. “The wet thing and the rubber thing?”

An actual genuine look of bewilderment made its way onto Y/N’s face. “You mean condoms and lube?” Steve nodded shyly and Y/N began to laugh. “Steve, you just pounded my face in. Don’t give me any shit about you being too coy to say the words ‘condom’ and ‘lube’.” He then glanced down towards Steve’s penis which was already erect again. “Plus, your thing,” he continued, mocking Steve’s mannerisms, “still looks pretty wet from my spit. And as far as I remember, none of us have any diseases.” Y/N quickly looked towards Steve. “Right?” Steve nodded his head quickly, still too embarrassed to respond. Before Steve could do anything further, Y/N took his pants off alongside his underwear. “You’re already hard again, Steve. What are you gonna do 'bout it?”

Y/N’s teasing tone evoked Steve’s earlier confidence, leading to him hoisting Y/N around his waist, a quick yelp coming out of Y/N at the sudden movement. Before Y/N could say anything, Steve hastily prevented him by connecting their lips. Their tongues quickly tangled together, saliva combining and becoming indistinguishable from one another. “Steve, just put it in already, God.” Y/N’s voice came out breathy and unstable. Steve obeyed quicker than usual, seemingly eager to come a second time that night. Grabbing his cock with one hand and supporting Y/N with the other, he angled it towards Y/N's gaping hole. Without wasting any more time, Steve promptly thrust the entirety of his length inside of Y/N. A filthy ludicrous whine came from Y/N’s throat. His prostate was already being reached by Steve’s tip, causing his eyes to roll to the back of his head. He was euphoric and as Steve started moving, his speed matching that of earlier, Y/N felt like he ascended.

Steve was usually gentle whenever they had sex, but he decided to spare no mercy tonight. His thrusts were aggressive, leaving Y/N unable to handle the surplus of pleasure he was feeling. With each graze felt by his prostate, he was sent further into the heavenly bliss he felt. “H-have you seen that one movie,” Y/N said in between heavy pants. “Juno?” He knew it was a stupid question, both in the situation he asked it in, and how he knew Steve had barely seen anything made in the 21st century.

Steve continued thrusting into Y/N, the sound of their skin slapping reverberating around the room. “No – fuck,” Steve’s voice came out breathless. “What is that?” His face was contorting into different variations of lewd expressions, making Y/N’s hard-on even stiffer. It was rare to see the Captain America in such a vulnerable state, and Y/N savoured the fact he was the only person who was able to see him like this.

The pleasure Y/N felt inside of him was indescribable. Their fucking had never reached this level of catharsis. “Nothing – it doesn’t matter. Just keep going, Steve…please…” Y/N saw the little dribble of precum dripping from his cock. He was close. And Y/N knew Steve was too from how his pounds started becoming sloppier, and how his hands gripped his ass tighter. Their lips found each other again, and their tongues connected. Steve swallowed all of Y/N’s whimpers, biting his lower lip to prevent any would-be passersby from hearing his erotic gasps for air.

“I’m gonna come, Y/N,” Steve breathlessly spoke. His pacing started to decline, and his entire body trembled.

As Steve was about to endure another orgasm, Y/N saw him about to pull out. Suddenly, he protested with a hoarse sigh, “No, Steve, just finish inside me – it’s fine.” Steve nodded his head silently, not needing to be told twice. Their pants continued syncing together as Steve rode out his climax. Another load of his hot white cream exited him and filled Y/N to the brim. Shortly after Steve finished, Y/N felt his climax coming in. Steve continued floppily thrusting to aid in his release, soon releasing in thick ribbons that covered his and Steve’s chests.

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

Steve gently collapsed both of their bodies on the ground. The pair were in a state of exhausted pleasure, their breaths still deep and frequent. It stayed this way for a few minutes – Steve and Y/N basking in the decline of their orgasms in a comfortable silence. Y/N glanced down towards his ass, a tad icked out by Steve’s jizz pouring out of him. “It’s kind of gross isn’t it,” he said to Steve.

Steve was broken out of his euphoric trance upon hearing Y/N’s voice. “What is?” He said, still catching his breath.

“Look,” Y/N signalled to his downward area. “It looks really strange.” The pair’s eyes met and they both erupted in boisterous laughter.

As they started quieting down from what they considered the funniest thing of that night, Steve suddenly remembered what Y/N asked earlier. “Hey, what was it with that movie you asked me about earlier.”

“Juno?” Y/N responded.

“Yeah, that one.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” Y/N said, getting uncharacteristically shy. “I just thought…it’d be nice if we have kids one day.” Y/N then realized what he said and began doubling down. “I mean, that is if you want any with me at all – children I mean. A family.”

Steve didn’t say anything. Instead, he smiled at Y/N, grabbing his hand and holding it tightly. Y/N responded by giving him a meek smile. They both were met with another silence, their love-laced gazes filling each other with a comforting warmth.

“How are we gonna get out of here, Steve?” Y/N’s voice came out softly, too absorbed in the moment to genuinely care about where they were.

“Now that is the predicament, isn’t it?” Steve said, reciprocating Y/N’s blissful voice.

Fortunately, it was evident that luck was on their side that night as no one had entered the bathroom at any point in their love-making.

FIN

A/N: My Google searches are legit “Synonyms for ‘cock’ in fanfiction”, “Synonyms for ‘moaning’ in fanfiction”, “Synonyms of ‘cum’ in fanfiction”, and “How to write smut properly.” Anyways, hope you enjoyed whatever that mess was!

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ivyasproperty · 7 days ago

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Light In The Dark.

wanda.m x fem!avenger!reader

summary — you've always had problems with your eyes, so why is it there's something, specifically someone standing so brightly in front of you?

warning(s) : idfk im too tired to check

word count : 2.1k

A/N : took a 2 month break bc i was lazy oops </3, i also didnt know wtf to call the aura so i called it spiritual powers teehee

You were born with a mysterious disease that not even the worlds best doctors could diagnose, you knew this since you were a a toddler, and yet, you couldn't help but get frustrated every time it passed your mind.

Your disease was special, it messed with your eye sight. Yes, you could see, but in your eyes, everything was in a darker hue. What was supposed to be the crystal blue sky on a sunny day, looked like a rainstorm during night.

So of course it made sense you were frustrated, your disease has affected your life is so many ways. You've lost jobs at café's or restaurants for not being able to see the menu, the pages being too dark to see the words written across it, you've lost jobs at business companies, bosses complaining your progress was too slow. Sure the glowing white light from the computer helped, but only slightly.

And so of course you were surprised when Nick Fury, founder of SHIELD, presented an opportunity for you to join the Avengers. You were hesitant at first, not understanding why they'd invite a person like you. But you were then informed that your powers, that being your hindered eye sight, could detect spiritual power. You were confused... spiritual power? How the hell were you supposed to detect that?

As if reading your mind, the one-eyed man told you that a person who possessed spiritual power would emit an aura that only you would be able to see. The more spiritual power that person had, the brighter the aura would be. He explained you would be a useful asset to recruiting more people, be it for the Avengers, or SHIELD.

You didn't like the feeling of being a tool to recruit more people, so you were about to decline, but then brought up the monthly paycheck you'd make if you were to accept. Well..... how could someone refuse THAT amount of money am I right? ( i imagine it to be maybe 10k-15k usd per month ^^ )

ᯓ★

Your first day on the job wasn't bad per say, but it was definitely hectic. The Avengers compound was so far away from where you lived, you had to wake up 2 hours earlier than you usually do to arrived at a reasonable time. It wasn't just that, the compound was so big, you had troubles navigating through the damn building, and with your shitty eye sight, you ran into multiple walls, causing you to rest for awhile and wasting even more time. Curse Stark and his big ass building.

After FINALLY arriving at the lounge room of the compound, you were surprised to see all members of the Avengers lined up in a line facing towards the entrance, as if waiting for you to arrive. Standing in front of them was a familiar figure, one you've come to recognise as Nick Fury.

As if sensing your presence, he turned around and gave what you think was a grin, you couldn't tell, all you could see was pitch black because of your disease.

Introducing yourself was another issue, even with the shiny blonde hair that Steve Rogers and Thor Odinsson had, it was hard to distinguish their faces. You had to squint your eyes to see if a person was standing in front of you or not.

After introducing yourself to Natasha Romanoff, the black widow, it was on to the next and final person, one you've heard on the news multiple times. Wanda Maximoff, also known as the Scarlett Witch. She was just a few years older than you, so you were expecting a shy girl, what you weren't expecting was a bright red light shining around her figure. You covered your eyes, wanting and needing to block out the light to not damage your already damaged eyes.

After getting used to the shine, you let your hands fall to your sides, her features were something you've never seen before, which was ironic since you could barely make out people's faces. She had emerald green eyes, scarlet hair and light freckles adorned her cheeks. She was ethereal, you thought.

You were about to let go of her hand after shaking it when it hit you. Did you just explain her features in detail? But how? You could barely see anything. You looked back up at her face, and your eyes widened at how normal she looked. Nothing about her was a dark color, it was basically your first time seeing colors so bright.

You didn't notice the poor woman getting nervous under your gaze, 'is there something on my face?' she thought to herself. But before she could ask the question that she recited in her mind, she saw Fury tapping your shoulder, affectively breaking you out of your stupor.

"Sorry.." you murmured, "I've just never seen a face with such bright colors before. You know, with my disease and all...." You hated how shy you sounded, it was as if you were a petite girl getting caught for sticking her hand in the cookie jar.

"It's fine!" she enthusiastically said, she felt at ease after finding out the reason for your blatant staring. "Your names Y/N right? I hope we can be good friends." You hoped so too.

ᯓ★

You were settling in nicely. After being here for around 5 months, you've realised a lot more things about yourself. Who would've thought you'd be so good at sparring? Well at least yo were when against Steve, you'd never be able to beat Natasha. And who would've thought you were able to work out complicated biotech with Stark? Certainly not you. Who would've thought your heart would start pounding whenever Wanda Maximoff was around? Who would've tho- wait what? Your heart pounds whenever Wanda is around? You stopped in your tracks after the thought came into mind.

'I like Wanda?' you thought to yourself, 'That can't be, sure I'm always flustered around her and always crave to be around her, but that doesn't mean I have a crush on her! Right?' you asked yourself. 'Right?'

"Right about what, malysh?", you'd recognise that nickname from miles away. "It's nothing wands, somethings on my mind is all." "Penny for your thoughts then?", you couldn't help but giggle at her words, yo don't know why. "It'd be my pleasure."

"Is it about your powers? Oh! Maybe about how you'd finally beat Natasha at sparring?", her words were filled with excitement as she asked you questions.

"Ouch, Wands. To be clear I've beaten Natasha before..... at everything except what she's good at. And no it's nothing you've listed." you replied.

"Whatever you say malysh, so what's on your mind? Let me guess! Let me guess! Uhm...."

You giggled at her excited tone, your lips instantly pulling up into a smile whenever she showed you this side of her. Wanda was still fairly new to the Avengers, sure she was friends with all the members but she was closest to you. You felt fluttering in your stomach at the thought.

But, what if she eventually finds out about the pathetic crush you have on her? You've noticed the way she looks at vision, you don't know what he has that you don't, because you can't even tell what he looks like. Is he good looking? Handsome? Cute? But you did hear Clint muttering something about him having red skin.....

Back on the matter, you were worried, worried about how she'd react, would she like you back? Or would a disgusted look be plastered onto her goddess like features?

Even in stressful situations like this, you couldn't help but find Wanda beautiful. Her face got brighter day by day, the aura surrounding her getting brighter and brighter, showing that she was getting stronger too. You admired her for that.

You looked back in front of you, trying to avoid Wanda's piercing gaze as she tries to guess what's on your mind. What you didn't know was that Wanda had read your mind. She felt guilty, she promised you she'd never do anything like that to you. It was an invasion of privacy. But your thoughts were so loud! They were practically spewing out of your mind!

She couldn't help the blush that rose upon her cheeks at finding out about your crush on her. She herself was also finding it hard to come to light about her feeling towards you. Yes, she felt an undeniable pull between her and vision but her heart pounded in a different way when she was in your presence. She felt the stress ebb away from her body when she was able to rant to you about your problems.

It wasn't until you finally reached your destination, that being your room, that you stopped Wanda's rambling. "It's nothing to worry about Wands, just figuring things out is all."

And just as you were about to close your room door after entering, Wanda hurriedly jammed her foot between the door and your doorframe, wincing at the pain that she had willingly put herself through. To say you were shocked at her action was an understatement. "Are you alright?!" you half shouted, "You could hurt yourself doing that!" "I'm fine malysh. I just.... I just need a moment with you." she panted between breaths.

'A moment? With me? Did something happen? What's going on?' . you pondered as you entered your room, Wanda following behind you. "What's wrong Wands? Your face is really red. Like, REALLY red. And you can tell it's bad when even I can see a color as bright as that.", your worried tone warmed Wanda's heart. 'All I want to do right now is kiss that worried face of yours away.' she thought to herself. Well atleast she thinks she did.

"Y-you wanna what to my face away?", you asked, bewildered at the fact she just said that aloud. "Hm?", Wanda was still oblivious, it took a few seconds for her to realise what had just happened, and of course, her face turned as red as a tomato, at this point it was hard to differentiate the color of her face and her hair, they were almost the same.

"I-I'm so sorry, malysh! It just slipped out! I didn't mean it— well I DID, but I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable!-", you could feel your heart pumping wildly against your chest, what does she mean she means what she said? Does she want to kiss you? No that couldn't be it, but then what could she mean? I mean if she did, you wouldn't be complaining.

"Malysh? Are you listening? You know what i'll get straight to the reason why I wanted to talk, I like you, okay? Y/N? Y/N listen to me!" You were still in your own world, asking yourself question when Wanda suddenly started shaking your shoulders and was repeating the same sentence over and over again.

"Wait, hold on a second Wands. You like me? You?" you asked incredulously, as if she hadn't said it a dozen times already.

"Yes, stupid! I like you! Are you gonna say anything? Y/N? God....", she felt frustrated, and rightfully so. Your mind was still trying to process what she said, and after doing so your face turned to what you think is a bright red.

"Oh! That's.... that's cool! Yeah! I... I just......", you were a stuttering mess under Wanda's watchful gaze, and you felt panic rise within you when you noticed an upset look spread across her face. Wanda had took your stuttering as you being uncomfortable, and tried to talk her way out of the topic at hand when you suddenly cut her off before she could even say anything.

"I like you too! Okay! I just, I have a hard time expressing it.... 'M just shocked is all....", the words finally left your mouth in a hurried sentence.

"Why would you ever be shocked, malysh?", Wanda was confused, did you not notice her liking towards you?

"It's just, you're like a goddess Wands. You're beautiful, cheerful and powerful. I don't understand why you'd be with someone like me, someone who can't even see things properly."

"Well you can see me perfectly fine, no?"

"That's different, Wands."

"How so, Y/N/N? I don't care if you have problems seeing, malysh. Hell, I wouldn't even care if you were blind! I like you because you're you. And I like you, okay?"

You were processing her words, still trying to tell if she was saying it for fun or not, but when you realised she wasn't, you wrapped your arms around her frame.

"Woah! Calm down there, malysh. Still need to breathe." she chuckled. But you couldn't care less. She finally liked you back. You finally got your girl. You finally got the light in the dark.

A/N : if im being honest, i fucking hate this. i thought that maybe if i went with the flow it'd come out okay but at this point its just nonsense, but anywayyy!!! hope you enjoyed this one! feel free to leave requests!!!!

#ivyawrites.ᐟ #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch x you #marvel

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blacktabbygames · 9 months ago

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Fury isn't even done (maybe ~70% of the art is finished?) She already has more assets than any other route in the game.

#slay the princess #overcompensating for how short the release version of her route is #we hope u like the flesh

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cleo-fox · 1 year ago

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Close Quarters

Part 1 of 2

Summary: “You don’t have to like it,” says Fury, “you just have to do your job.”

Your job, as it turns out, is to go undercover at a luxury resort.

The only problem? Your fake husband is Loki Laufeyson—the infuriatingly handsome Norse god turned Avenger who delights in making you flustered. What could go wrong?

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+ (Minors DNI), dirty talk, praise kink, fingering, elevator sex, semi-public sex, multiple orgasms, a hint of dom/sub, Dom Loki.

A/N: there will be a part 2. Also have a handful of related one shot ideas, so if people like this, I may post those. This is also posted on AO3.

Your self-sufficiency has always been a point of pride for you, both personally and professionally. The highlight of your career was overhearing Nick Fury say that he didn’t need to send in a team of people for a mission so long as he had you on the payroll. You are calm, competent, and ruthlessly efficient; you are used to relying only on yourself.

So it comes as something of a surprise when Fury informs you that Loki Laufeyson will not only be accompanying you on this undercover mission, but will also be taking the lead.

It takes a lot to render you speechless these days, but this does it. You gape at Fury for a moment before you’re able to speak.

“You never send me in with anyone,” you say.

“This mission requires a unique skillset.”

You scoff. “He can’t do anything that I can’t.”

Fury raises an eyebrow and folds his arms across his chest. “Really? How’s your conversational Sokovian?”

There’s, of course, no argument to be made with this. Your lips press into a thin, hard line. “I still don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to like it,” says Fury, “you just have to do your job.”

Your job, as it turns out, is to play the part of Nina Pine.

Nina Pine is bubbly and vivacious, the sort of person you’d see in the society pages. She wears designer clothes and owns jewelry that is so ostentatious and expensive that it looks like it must be fake. She is not particularly bright or talented; she is the product of good luck and generational wealth.

Three weeks ago, Nina married Jonathan Pine, who she met six months ago at the home of a mutual friend. Jonathan does something in finance that sounds like it’s just a tarted up version of gambling, but with more complicated rules and less oversight. It is Jonathan’s higher tolerance for risk (and healthy trust fund assets) that has him considering an investment in KorolCo, a company owned by Ivan Litvinchuk. Litvinchuk uses KorolCo as a front to launder money from illegal arms deals.

Loki would be going undercover as Jonathan. Your new husband.

You are not particularly happy about this little detail (a detail that Fury mysteriously failed to mention when you met with him), in no small part because Loki has already started leveraging it to annoy the shit out of you.

“How are you already this annoying when we’re still in prep?” you say after a particularly exasperating meeting.

“I’m simply overcome by my love for you,” says Loki with a cloying faux sincerity that makes you yearn for the sweet release of death.

Fury, you note, is suspiciously unavailable during all of this. After ignoring three of your (admittedly lengthy) emails on the subject, he sends you a frustratingly short reply:

Do your job, Agent.

Maybe you’ll take up meditation.

If there’s a bright side to what appears to be a massive clusterfuck in the making, it’s that you’ll at least get a free vacation of sorts

The mission will be taking place at The Indigo, an absurdly expensive and exclusive hotel on a private beach not far from La Jolla Cove. The Indigo is the sort of place that you’d only read about—the kind of hyper exclusive resort that is only ever mentioned in damning Pro Publica reports about the questionable actions of high ranking public officials. Rooms start at fifty thousand a night and you are staying in one of the suites, which likely costs more. Your room information was included in your briefing materials and it all sounds too good to be true: a soaking tub and waterfall shower. Private terrace with an infinity pool. Private bar. In-suite chef and spa services by appointment. Ocean view.

One Norse god who delights in irritating you (non-negotiable).

You suppose you’ll try and make the best of it.

The first problem is your sleeping arrangements: there’s only one bed. Granted, it’s a big bed, but still—it suggests a level of intimacy that you had not thought about and are not at all prepared for.

“Well, Agent, this isn’t how I envisioned taking you to my bed, but I suppose it’ll have to do,” says Loki on your first evening there.

You chuck a pillow at him, which he easily dodges.

“Keep it up and you can magic yourself a pillow and sleeping bag and sleep in the hall,” you say.

“Even if that were an appropriate accommodation for someone of my rank and title, I rather think it would do some damage to our cover.”

He has a point and you don’t like it. You decide to ignore him and start getting ready for bed.

The pajamas that had been packed for you are a little fancier than what you’re used to—satin and lace instead of cotton tees and shorts. Normally, you’d relish the opportunity to feel a little fancy—it’s an unexpected indulgence, a splurge on the company dime.

But with Loki now thrown into the equation, you are suddenly hyper aware of the fact that the fabric will likely cling to your curves, that the hem of the skirt is just a little too high. You choose the most demure one of the lot—a pale rose colored thing hemmed with lace—and head to the bathroom to change.

Even with the matching robe, you still feel a little awkward and oddly nervous. You avoid looking at Loki—if his gaze is lingering on your legs or your hips, you don’t want to know about it right before you hop into bed with him—and go about your normal routine. You manage to have a relatively normal conversation about your plan for tomorrow and you read a couple chapters of your book before you start to drift off.

It’s a king sized bed with plenty of room, but somehow you wake up perched near the edge of the bed with Loki pressed up against your back.

He’s got one arm wrapped around your waist so that you’re pinned against him and the deep, even breaths brushing against the back of your neck tell you he’s still asleep. You’re pretty sure this must have been unintentional on his part: Loki doesn’t seem like the sort to willingly allow himself to be seen seeking out human contact. It’s too vulnerable, too soft for the sharp and sarcastic veneer he presents to the world.

He shifts slightly in his sleep, his grip on you tightening. Something hard pokes against the curve of your ass.

You can’t help the responding ache between your legs. You should feel embarrassed—and you do, just a little—but there’s a competing feeling of warm curiosity that makes you press your thighs together. It’s been a while and you miss being held like this. The silk of your nightgown is cool and slippery against your skin, and you feel oddly restless and alert despite the early hour.

You should put a stop to this—that is the professional and sensible thing to do. So you carefully lift his arm from your waist and gently extricate yourself from his embrace. You pad to the bathroom, leaving the light off to spare your eyes.

In the bathroom, you run the tap as cold as it will go. You cup your hands and drink before splashing some water on your face in an effort to quell the restless heat building between your thighs.

It doesn’t really work. You’re not entirely surprised—if you were by yourself, you would simply take care of it, but that’s obviously not an option now. Out of curiosity, you slip your fingers between your thighs to assess the state of things and you immediately regret it: you’re soaked and just the feeling of your index finger glancing against your clit is enough to undo the admittedly minimal effect of the cold water.

You splash your face again and shut off the tap, taking a few deep breaths and smoothing your hands against your hair.

You exit the bathroom and slide back into bed. Loki reaches for you in his sleep and you are only half surprised when you let him wrap his arms around your waist and pull you to him. The throbbing ache between your thighs intensifies and before you can think about it, your back is arching and your breath is hitching.

He pulls you closer and suddenly his breath is warm on your ear. “You know, if you wanted me, all you had to do was ask,” he says, his voice deep and smooth, only a little husky with sleep.

“This is a bad idea,” you say, even as your back arches again and you press yourself against him.

Lips press against where your neck and shoulder meet. “But you want it.” His fingers toy with the hem of your nightgown. “Yes?” he asks, his voice husky against your ear.

“Yes,” you breathe.

“Agent.”

“Yes. Please.”

“Agent.”

Your eyes flutter open. Loki is standing at the foot of the bed, hair wet, and wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist.

“It’s eight o’clock,” he says. “You need to shower and dress if we’re to make it to breakfast on time.”

It takes you a moment to process this information. Partly because he just woke you up from a sex dream about him and partly because wearing only a towel should be fucking illegal when you look like that. You try to keep your eyes trained on his and not let them drift to his flat stomach where you can see a faint smattering of chest hair that gathers in a line that trails directly to his cock. And definitely not to any of the muscles that are on tantalizing display and dotted by drops of water that are begging to be licked away. Nope. Not looking at any of that. Just at his devastatingly handsome face.

Fuck.

“Agent?”

You shake your head. “Sorry. Bit groggy this morning. Finish up what you were doing and I’ll go jump in the shower.”

He gives you a bit of an odd look, but mercifully walks away without further comment.

This gives you an opportunity to stare at his broad back as he walks away. Goddammit, even his ass looks good in that towel.

Fuck.

You have a feeling this is going to be a long week.

It’s only day one and it’s becoming clear to you that you are not really prepared for some of the practicalities of being Loki’s wife.

Specifically: being the primary focus of his flirtations and little gestures of affection. His hand on the small of your back, his fingers lacing with yours, the brush of his lips against the back of your hand or the shell of your ear—it’s all a little overwhelming in a way you don’t expect. It was one thing when he was razzing you in your prep meetings—he was quite clearly doing it to be irritating. But at The Indigo, he has to appear sincere for your cover and that particular detail makes it a different beast entirely.

The fact that both his regular appearance and the blond-haired, blue-eyed glamor he’s adopted for the mission are both devastatingly handsome certainly doesn’t help. Nor does the additional baggage of your sex dream this morning.

Unfortunately for you, Loki quickly ascertains that he now has a great and novel way to fluster you. Equally unfortunate is the fact that he seems to find this as hilarious as he did back in prep meetings, which prompts him to be only more outlandish.

“Are you trying to sabotage this?” It’s later that afternoon and you’ve gone down to the pool with the plan of schmoozing with Litvinchuk and his associates. Loki has clearly decided that this needs to be more difficult than it is and has fully committed to the bit, as they say.

(You’ve also gotten very good at whispering threats under your breath and making it look like you’re flirting; the timing of this is not a coincidence).

“I don’t know why you’re so distraught about sunscreen,” says Loki, rubbing a generous amount between his palms.

“It’s not the sunscreen, it’s that you’re going to find some way to be inappropriate about it.”

“I’d never.”

“You are so full of shit.”

“You wound me.” He places his hands on your shoulders and begins rubbing in the sunscreen, going much slower than you think is strictly necessary. “Perhaps this trip is merely bringing out our natural chemistry.”

“You wish.”

“Is it the hair that does it for you, Mrs. Pine? Do you have a particular fondness for blonds?”

“Do you have a fondness for being murdered in broad daylight? Because that’s the fate you’re headed towards, buster.”

He tuts at you as his hands slide to the small of your back. “Temper, temper. You really need to work on that.”

“Have you considered working on not annoying the ever-loving shit out of me?”

His breath is suddenly warm against your ear. “Now where’s the fun in that? And before you answer, be advised that Tarasevich is looking right at us.”

Fuck. Tarasevich is the most suspicious and paranoid of the lot—years in the Sokovian mafia paired with recreational drug use will do that to a guy. You turn so that you’re facing Loki. He looks at you fondly, looking for all the world like a loved up newlywed just smitten with his new wife.

“One of these days, I’m going to drop kick you into the motherfucking sun,” you say in the sweetest voice that you can muster.

“Now, now, Mrs. Pine, let’s keep the foreplay in the bedroom.” He rests his forehead against yours, reaching up to stroke your cheek. “There’s such a thing as public indecency laws, you know.”

You sigh heavily. “Why are you like this?”

“Oh, because it’s so much fun.”

“Is he still looking?”

“Yes and I’m going to kiss you to put him off, so do try to contain yourself.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll manage.”

You catch a flicker of a smile before he leans in and brushes his lips against yours. You intend for this to be brief, but his mouth is so warm and inviting and before you know it, he’s gently coaxing your lips open and leading your tongue in a slow and seductive caress that has your mind drifting straight to the gutter.

His hand slides to your thigh and you can’t bring yourself to be mad about it.

“Ah, Pine. Mixing business and pleasure, I see.”

You pull back from Loki to find Ivan Litvinchuk standing in front of you, wearing the smug, congratulatory smirk that you often see men like him trading with one another when they think they’re getting somewhere with a woman.

“Normally I try not to, but I’ve found it rather impossible these last three weeks, haven’t I, darling?” Loki takes the opportunity to loop his arms around your waist and pull you into his lap, nuzzling your neck.

You give a good natured laugh. “You’re insatiable.”

“Oh, I don’t think anyone would fault me when I have such a tempting little wife.”

This, paired with the squeeze of his hand on your thigh, sends an unexpected rush of heat to your cunt. Fortunately, the effects of this are quickly tempered when you notice that Litvinchuk is eyeing you rather appreciatively. The wardrobe team has really outdone themselves with your clothes, but the swimsuits they’ve sent are definitely more revealing than you are used to—today’s choice is a bikini with a split sweetheart neckline that dips a lot lower than you’d like and a fucking underwire in the top. Underwire! The bottom is no better—it’s both low rise and high cut, the perfect way to ensure that half of your ass is exposed at any given time. Even in the matching translucent cover up—which of course you’ve left on the chair that Litvinchuk is standing in front of—you feel a little more bare than you’d like, a fact that Litvinchuk seems to be appreciating, if the path of his gaze is any indication.

“You’re a lucky man, Mr. Pine,” he says, his eyes flicking briefly to your cleavage.

You expertly tamp down your disgust and smile at Litvinchuk before turning around to bat your eyes at Loki.

“You are, aren’t you?” you say, twining your arms around his neck and planting a brief, chaste kiss on his lips.

He gives you a dazzling smile that’s so sincere it makes your stomach flip. “Very much so.”

Another squeeze of your thigh, more heat to your cunt. Fuck.

“Well, Pine, when you are ready to discuss more business—” Here he switches to Sokovian.

This is the part you dislike the most about this particular mission: whenever anything of substance comes up, Litvinchuk and his cronies immediately switch to Sokovian, leaving you in the dark.

To add insult to injury, Litvinchuk still seems infatuated by your cleavage.

Litvinchuk says goodbye a few minutes later and you manage to bite your tongue until he’s out of earshot.

“I really don’t love the fact that he spent half of that conversation sneaking looks at my boobs,” you say quietly.

“Well, to be fair, they do look spectacular,” says Loki. “I’ll have to send a thank you note to the wardrobe team for that.”

Heat stirs hopefully and unhelpfully in your hips at that comment.

“This is what I meant by being inappropriate, you know. Did he have anything interesting to say?”

“He’s invited me to a game of cards this afternoon.”

“Do you need me for that? I could go try and talk to the wives, see what I can find out.”

“Originally, I’d thought no, but since dear Ivan seems so enamored of your assets, it might not be a bad idea to have you come along.”

You sigh. “How am I now at the point in my life where letting an illegal arms dealer stare at my tits is a fucking mission objective?”

Loki laughs quietly. “We’ll keep that out of the final report.”

The card game ends up being a lot worse than you thought it would be. And not because of Litvinchuk’s wandering eyes.

They’ve set up the game on the pool deck tables and chairs. As best as you can tell, it’s a Sokovian twist on a combination of rummy and poker. You’re not the only woman at the table: a few of the other men have their girlfriends or mistresses draped over them like strange human scarves, though their roles seem to be largely decorative.

Loki makes a big show of pulling you into his lap, saying how he just can’t bear to be apart from his new wife for terribly long.

“Ah, young love,” says Mikhnevich. “I remember when my Irina and I were like this.”

“Now she begs for him to leave the house!” says Litvinchuk. There’s a hearty round of laughter—it’s not a particularly funny joke, but you suppose that’s one of the benefits of moving up in the world of crime: people will laugh at your jokes because they’re afraid you’ll kidnap their families or something. It’s all very dysfunctional.

Loki makes an effort to teach you the game, but Nina is not the sort who pays very close attention to that kind of thing, so you find yourself giggling and letting him steal kisses or whisper in your ear as he explains some strategy or another.

There are several problems with this arrangement. The first is that you are positioned on his lap in such a way that you can feel his cock nudging your ass or your thigh, depending on how he’s sitting. And it’s close enough proximity for you to ascertain that he is long, thick, and semi-erect.

The second problem is his thigh; specifically, how it presses against your cunt, how every time Loki leans forward to draw a card, he inadvertently rocks you against the firm muscle. Each time, it feels better than the last; each time, you clench and ache and talk yourself out of riding his thigh until you have a screaming orgasm right on the pool deck. Each time, the idea becomes more and more tempting.

The third problem is his hands. Specifically, where and how they are wandering. He plays it off like it’s unintentional, like he’s just absently fidgeting with the part of your suit that lays against your hip or idly drawing lazy circles on your thigh. You can’t help but think that it must be calculated. He’s spent the last twenty-four hours intentionally trying to drive you crazy–there’s no way that he would pass up an opportunity to play his little games without you scolding him or rolling your eyes.

The fourth problem is that the first three problems are turning you on a lot.

Your clit seems to swell with every pass of his fingertips on your bare skin, no matter how casual. It drags against the slick material of your swimsuit every time you shift on Loki’s muscular thigh. You can feel yourself growing slicker and slicker with every moment. Eventually, it becomes too much and you try to shift in his lap, crossing your legs to give yourself a little relief.

This does exactly nothing useful. Instead, your movement causes his cock to twitch against you, which only escalates your growing arousal. He hooks the elastic of your suit at your hip onto his thumb and pulls, letting it snap back against your skin. His expression is playful when you look up at him, but there’s a fire in his eyes that wasn’t there before.

You are throbbing, your cunt practically weeping with slickness. And you’re pretty sure he knows.

And you’re pretty sure you don’t mind.

You lick your lips.

He hooks his thumb back into your suit at the hip, and this time he leaves it there, his fingers splayed along the curve of your hip. It’s casually possessive and ridiculously hot and the polar opposite of helpful.

He definitely knows.

Your heart is pounding. Can you go into cardiac arrest from being too turned on? You wish you could use Google. At a minimum, some sort of visual equivalent of a cold shower would be helpful. Pictures of Henry Kissinger or something. Budget reports. Taxes. Anything to get your mind off your aching cunt and the mess that you’re making in your swimsuit.

“I think you could do with a bit of a lie down, Mrs. Pine.” Loki's voice is low in your ear. “You seem…warm.”

You would have thought that Loki knowing about your current state of arousal would be cause for humiliation, if not irritation. Instead, it only seems to add fuel to the fire, especially with the way he’s talking to you. You’re not sure how he’s doing this, but it feels like his fucking voice is vibrating in the cradle of your hips, sending a fresh wave of slick arousal to your dripping cunt.

“Yeah,” you say. “Very warm.”

It’s perhaps a testament to your current state of mind that you can only manage this sentence and not some smart remark.

“Would you like my help with that, darling?” he asks. The phrasing is innocent, but the question is loaded. And sincere. You take in a shaky breath. You know all the reasons why this is a bad idea, but you also can’t bring yourself to say no. He may be wildly irritating, but you suspect he’s likely a good fuck…and you really need to be fucked.

You nod. “Yeah…I’d like that.”

“We’ll go up to the room after this game ends,” he says. “And then I’ll take very good care of you.”

It takes everything in you not to whine. Fuck. You didn’t think it was possible to be this wet, this turned on.

Loki shifts slightly, pulling you close against him, his cock now fully erect and pressing hard and thick against your ass.

“Do you feel me?” he asks, his lips grazing your ear. “Do you feel what you’ve done?”

You nod and wiggle your hips slightly, partly to situate yourself and partly because you want a little bit of payback. His grip on your hip tightens.

“I’d advise you not to play games, little wife,” he rasps in your ear.

More heat builds in your hips. You can’t remember the last time you were this turned on. Maybe never. You throw a look at Loki over your shoulder. “It’s not a game,” you say. “I’m just very warm.”

His eyes are dark. “Burning up, I suspect.”

“You have no idea.” You lean back against him, turning so you can nuzzle your face against his neck. God, he smelled good. “Please,” You say it so quietly that only he can hear, “I’m aching.”

He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth and you feel his cock throb. He clears his throat. “Gentlemen, I’m afraid I’m going to have to take my leave a little early—Mrs. Pine is feeling quite unwell.”

Fuck yes.

If Litvinchuk and his men suspect there’s anything untoward about your departure, they don’t say so—and you imagine you must look a little unsteady anyway. Loki slides an arm around your waist as you leave.

“Now Mrs. Pine,” he says once you’re out of earshot, “tell me exactly what ails you.”

You let out a shaky sigh. “Are you seriously going to do this?”

“I only want to ensure that we are on the same page,” he says with a smirk.

“Like hell you do. I already told you, you just want to hear—” You cut yourself off, realizing that you’re playing right into his hands.

He smiles like a cat with a bowl full of cream. “What do I want to hear, darling?”

You press your lips together. This is infuriating.

“I’m waiting…”

You blow out a shaky breath. Fuck it. “You just want to hear me say that I’m fucking soaked because you’ve been rubbing me against your thighs and touching me for the last two hours and if I don’t come soon, I’m going to lose my goddamn mind.”

He smirks as you approach the hotel lobby. “Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting to hear you say all that.”

“You absolutely were.”

The air conditioned air in the hotel lobby feels extra icy against your sunwarmed skin and your sandals seem to clack particularly loudly against the marble floors.

“You have a smart mouth, do you know that?”

“You like it,” you say as you approach the bank of elevators. “That’s the reason why you pull half of this shit with me.”

“Perhaps.” He gives you a smile that feels a little dangerous and sends even more heat to your aching cunt. “But do you know what my favorite part of your smart mouth is, Mrs. Pine?”

“I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”

The elevator door opens. It’s empty and your cunt clenches at the possibilities this presents.

“My favorite part about your smart mouth,” says Loki in a low voice as you step into the elevator, “is that it will sound that much sweeter when I make you beg for me.”

The elevator door slides closed and you barely have a chance to react before he’s backing you up against the wall and pressing his thigh between your legs.

“You’re a disobedient, wicked tease, Mrs. Pine,” he growls, sending a thrill through you. “I think you could benefit from a firm hand.”

“You like it,” you breathe, rocking your hips against his thigh, trying to capture some of the same friction that was driving you wild earlier.

“Rutting yourself against my thigh in public like a common slut,” he purrs. “You must be desperate.” He slides a hand between your legs, slipping his fingers under your bathing suit. His expression changes the moment his fingers dip past the fabric—almost like he expected you to be wet, but not this wet.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he purrs as you keen. “You’ve made a mess of yourself, haven’t you?”

“I need to come so bad,” you gasp.

“I know you do.” He reaches over and slams the emergency stop button and the elevator shudders to a halt. “And you’re going to. Right now.”

“I can wait until we get to the ro—”

He spins you around and pulls you to him so your back is pressed against his chest.

“No, you can’t.” He curls his big frame over yours, sliding his hand back into your bathing suit and stroking the full length of your sex and making you cry out again. “You need it too badly.” He starts rubbing your clit with his middle and index fingers. “And I don’t think it’s going to take all that long, darling,” he growls, sucking your earlobe into his mouth, “because you’re already so fucking wet.”

There’s a small, distant part of you that resents the fact that he’s right about anything, let alone anything pertaining to your orgasms.

The larger part of you is focused on the fact that he’s right: you’re going to come and you’re going to come hard.

Your legs are shaking and you brace your arms against the elevator wall to hold yourself up. You moan loudly and arch your back as the feeling starts building in your hips.

“You need this so badly, don’t you?” He nips hard at your earlobe. “You’re desperate for it. I felt you tense up every time your sopping cunt rubbed against my thigh, every time I touched you just right.”

You whimper, pressure rising in your hips as you rock with his hands.

“You’re so close,” Loki purrs in your ear. His hips are thrusting mindlessly against your ass, like he can’t wait to be inside you.

“Fuck, I need to come,” you whimper.

“Oh, I’m going to make you come, darling, but I think what you really need is to be fucked.”

You moan as your orgasm starts to crest.

“You need to be fucked properly and hard,” he murmurs. “You need me to take care of your sopping wet, needy little cunt. You need to be filled to the brim with my cock and my come like the good girl that you are. You need to come over and over on my cock until you can’t take it anymore.”

This is what pushes you over the edge. The muscles of your cunt clench and then pleasure is blooming in your belly as the tension of the last two hours comes to a peak and you come hard. You cry out, your hips rocking against Loki’s hand, chasing the shimmery aftershocks.

“There she is, that’s my good girl,” he purrs. He holds you as you shudder and shake, his fingers still moving, still coaxing out those final waves of pleasure. But just when you think he’s about to pull his hand away, he starts massaging your clit again, one long finger slipping inside you.

“You don’t think you’re going to be satisfied with just one, do you?” he growls in your ear. “Not a needy girl like you, not when you’ve been dripping for hours. You need more, don’t you?”

“Oh fuck—” You can feel that pressure growing again and you know it’s going to be different this time.

“You’re going to come for me again, pretty girl,” he purrs. “And this time, I want to hear you scream.”

Everything is coiling up so tight and tense and suddenly two of his fingers are inside of you and they’re curling just right and the edges of your vision go white as everything inside you fizzes and releases and a sharp cry falls from your lips as you come.

“Good girl,” his voice rumbles low over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears.

His hand finally stills once the final aftershocks roll through you. Your legs are shaking, but his grip on you is still firm. Boneless, you turn to him and he presses his slick fingers past your lips. You suck and lick his fingers clean and then he’s kissing you, sucking your own essence from your lips and tongue.

“Fuck,” you breathe as the elevator shudders to life. “Fuck, that was so good.”

Loki laughs quietly and scoops you up into his arms as the elevator arrives at your floor.

“Oh, we’re nowhere near done, darling.”

Continued in Part 2

#loki smut #loki x reader #loki x reader smut #loki fanfic #loki imagine #loki fanfiction #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson smut #loki x female reader #loki x you #loki x yn smut #loki x y/n #loki x yn #loki x you smut #close quarters fic

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arpicityandneed · 2 months ago

Text

Hell Hath No Fury

(sequel to this ask.)

18+ f!reader. on the run Winter Soldier!Bucky. Dark Bucky. Angst. Violence. Hydra. Kidnapping. Threats of sexual violence. (No actual noncon) Rumlow (he's his own warning.) happy ending.

3.9k

The Asset was going to be punished. Maybe not right away, and never in a way he could anticipate, but he would be punished. The truth of it rattled in his bones.

He'd had pleasure, warmth, connection. All things that were forbidden to him.

So he'd ran.

But no matter how well he hid himself, the memory of you haunted him. Your conversations, the way your pussy felt on his cock when he split you open, the way you'd bitten his neck like he was yours.

He'd spent months simply observing you before you'd started teasing him. You were quick witted, a bit of a brat, more than a bit spoiled, but never cruel. You touched him without fear and only looked at his arm with curiosity.

You'd started confessing things to him when you realized he really wouldn't speak unless he had orders to. You told him you missed your mother who'd died as a child in an 'accident' you were sure was actually an assassination to get to your father. You told him you wanted a regular life with kids and maybe a cat. You even told him you hated being your father's daughter, the weight of expectation to be perfect and a pawn for him to marry off to whoever would get him the most power.

All the while the Asset had listened, tucking away the information deep into his heart because for some reason he knew it was important. He carried you home after parties left your feet too tired to walk another step in your heels and felt his heart flip in his chest when you nuzzled into him.

Then you'd started testing his patience, showing off your curves without remorse or shame. Tempting him with the softness of your breasts, the chub of your stomach and thighs, the wet heat between your legs.

When he'd finally snapped you'd taken him balls deep without hesitation. And it made him so angry (you'd let that pathetic dildo inside you? maybe you'd fucked other men before he'd been assigned to you. he hated the thought of anyone or anything but him fucking you) he'd used you like a whore, fucking you hard and deep without much thought of your pleasure. But to his surprise the harder he'd taken you the more you responded, clinging to him and begging for more.

Your pussy was sucking him in, milking his cock for his cum while you moaned and drove him crazy with your whines. "Do it, cum in me, get me pregnant I don't care--"

He'd had to cover your mouth, your words worming their way into his brain until all he could think about was seeing you grow round with his child.

The Asset knew he didn't deserve this pleasure but your pussy wouldn't stop fluttering around him, and the second he played with your clit you started fucking squirting on his cock.

How was he not supposed to cream you after that?

Maybe leaving the pillow under your hips was over kill, but some primal part of his brain wanted his seed to take. So he stuffed his fingers into your pussy to push his cum back inside you when it leaked out. You moaned in your sleep but didn't stir.

He licked his fingers before sneaking out the window- but not before he planted his own bugs in the room.

"Where did he go?" Listening to your father rage at you was killing him. Bucky- his name, lost for so long but knocked loose by the shock of being with you- knew you had every reason to turn him in. But for some reason, you weren't saying anything.

"I don't know dad. I had a one night stand and he was gone when I woke up." You muttered quietly, and Bucky wished he'd had camera's installed. He needed to see you. Make sure you were alright.

"You're lying to me! These people, darling, they don't like losing an Asset like that. If you don't tell me where he went we'll all have to face the consequences." Your father's voice was tight, anger and fear wrapped together in his tone.

"I already told you I don't know!" You yelled, and Bucky felt a fierce pride in his heart. The longer he was on his own, the more emotions he was able to feel. It had been months since his last wipe and his serum enhanced body seemed to be healing at an astonishing rate. So he was able to admit, he was proud of the woman his whole being had decided was his.

"Then we'll just have to hope they show us mercy."

Bucky now knew what his punishment was. You.

When he'd heard the chatter on HYDRA wavelengths discussing a possible reproduction of the serum, his heart was instantly in a vice grip. Of course they'd find out, and any child of his might be enhanced. How stupid could he have been?

By the time he made it to the hotel you were gone, your father dead from a bullet between his eyebrows. HYDRA worked quickly and quietly and Bucky was forced to reckon with his choice to leave you behind.

He had to do something, and fast. The thought of you in the clutches of HYDRA did something horrible to his breathing.

So for the first time since he remembered his name, he went to the only person he could for help.

Stevie was still an idiot. And though Stark's son was smart, HYDRA had been stealing his tech for years and Bucky was familiar with them.

He slipped into Steve's apartment without a sound and found the captain sleeping soundly. When Bucky allowed his presence to be felt Steve was up and searching for his shield in an instant. I still got it punk.

"I need your help." Bucky spoke before Steve could panic and call his teammates.

Steve paused, blinking and fully waking up as he took the assassin that was once his best friend.

"B-Buck?"

"We don't have time for this, Captain. I need your help." Bucky hissed, his own panic making itself known. That finally got Steve's attention and he nodded, his face growing serious.

"What can I do? Anything Buck." And Bucky could tell the man meant it. He still didn't trust the memories that had started to resurface, but he did trust the man in front of him for some reason.

"There's a woman. Might be carrying an enhanced child. HYDRA has her and we have to get her out." Bucky was tired, this was the most he'd spoken in years. But Steve was smart, listened to everything Bucky didn't say. She's mine. Can't let them have her.

"I'll tell the team-"

"NO!" Bucky's voice rattled the windows as he felt ice grow in his veins. If HYDRA saw the entire Avengers coming to their base? You'd be killed in an instant. "J-just, just us. Or else they'll terminate."

"Okay Buck, okay." Steve held up his hands gently in surrender, and took a deep breath before squaring his shoulders. "Then lets get to work."

It had been a month since the Asset disappeared when it happened. You woke up in a sterile white room with a throbbing headache and in a paper hospital gown. Your skin crawled at the thought of someone touching your naked body when you were unconcious.

"Hello? What kind of B list movie bullshit is this?" You called, trying to cover the fear that was taking over your body with bravado.

"I can see why he likes you." Came the reply when a man opened the door, his scarred face and leering eyes making you push back into the wall to try to get farther away from him. "But too bad. He's no where to be found. Ghost man you know?"

The man seemed to be enjoying himself until a second man popped his head in, an equally ugly look in his eyes as he looked over you. "Says there's still been no alarms tripped, Rumlow. He hasn't made a move."

"Thanks Walker, good job." When it was just the two of you again, Rumlow came over to crouch in front of you. He took a lock of your hair and rubbed it between your fingers. You wanted to throw up.

"You're pretty enough I guess. But honestly I'd just fuck you to make your precious little soldier boy pissed. He's the one who did this to my beautiful mug." He grinned as you cringed away, seeming to enjoy your revulsion.

"Don't worry, as soon as you pop out his brat I'll put another one in you." The threat made your stomach twist, but thankfully that was all he seemed to want to say. He stood and turned to leave, only pausing to smile at you once more- as if he knew that's what made you the most uncomfortable, seeing his scars pulled tight over his teeth.

When he left you curled around yourself, and the life inside you that you hadn't even known about until now.

We're gonna be okay. Your daddy is gonna come get us. I know it.

In the end it took four weeks. Four weeks to find information on where you were being held, plan out points of entry and exit, as well as transportation.

Bucky thought he knew pain, thought he knew everything there was to know about ways to torture a human being. But hearing chatter from some asshole about how he couldn't wait to force himself on you as soon as the baby was born was a new form of hell. That asshole, Rumlow Bucky found out, seemed to be the only real leak about you.

Everyone else barely mentioned you, trying to keep their new treasure to themselves. But Rumlow couldn't help himself. His putrid personality on full display as he talked about 'some girl' that Bucky knew in his bones was you.

It was the only connection Bucky had to you, listening to Rumlow go on about how fiesty you were and how he wanted to break you. It made Bucky decide Rumlow would be the last one to die. So Bucky could let you watch if you wanted.

By the time Bucky and Steve were heading out, Bucky couldn't even sit still. He paced the outdated quinjet Steve had stolen like a feral animal on a dangerously thin leash.

"We'll get her back Buck. We would've heard if something had happened." Steve had been a good partner in this, Bucky knew. He had done his best to reassure Bucky everytime he felt like tearing his hair out. (Could only admit to himself that Steve matched up with his memories almost eerily well, kind funny and protective of those he cared about.)

"Rumlow's been quiet. What if-" Bucky couldn't finish the thought. You were his. If Rumlow had touched you in any way, Bucky would have to start by breaking his fingers one at a time.

"He would've been bragging by now." Steve muttered as he flew the quinjet to the HYDRA base, one of their smaller facilities to distract anyone searching for you.

"Fly faster."

Something was different today. Instead of Rumlow coming in to taunt you, you'd been left alone. Every time your door opened for them to bring you a meal you heard lots of footsteps rushing around.

"What's going on?" You asked the tech assigned to feed you, not surprised when all you got was a look.

"Just tell me some gossip dude, I've been stuck in here for weeks." You tried to hide your desperation behind a charming smile, and it almost might have worked if Rumlow hadn't chosen that moment to stroll in.

"Get away from the subject." He growled and the tech snapped their mouth shut before scurrying out.

"Looks like its your lucky day princess. You're gonna get to see your boy toy get killed." You didn't rise to the bait even as your heart leapt in your chest, narrowing your eyes at the waste of space as he started pacing. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

You noticed three things right away. One was the massive gun strapped to him, one that looked more like alien tech than anything else. Second was the fact that he was blocking the door. Third, was that the son of bitch looked a little nervous, his mouth pressed into a flat line instead of his usual sneer.

"This? Oh I'm glad you asked," Rumlow held up the gun and pressed a button. The machine hummed to life and started glowing an odd shade of blue. "This is the newest HYDRA enhanced SHIELD knock off. Should even be able to destroy vibranium. Can't wait to test it out."

You heard a blaring alarm through the door, and for the first time in weeks it was your turn to smile.

"That gun you got?" You stood up, hand instinctively going to your belly as you taunted the man. "Isn't gonna be good enough. Cause he's coming for both of us and nothing will stop him. That's why you're afraid."

The slap surprised you, in your entire stay in this hell hole he’d never hit you. You cradled your cheek and glared at him with all the hate you had in your heart. You knew it would bruise, knew the throbbing pain wouldn’t go away for hours.

“Shut up! Just shut up! I’ll kill him, then I’ll kill you. But not before I get what I want.” He took another step towards you and you scrambled away, something clicking in your brain. You would have to survive—even if he touched you. For your baby if nothing else.

“I’m not going to die here.” You weren’t sure who you were trying to convince more, but the door opened again and Walker barked at Rumlow,

“He’s here. We need all hands.”

“In a minute!” Rumlow growled, but Walker shook his head.

“Directors orders.” Walker spoke firmly, and Rumlow cursed as he looked at you with something unhinged in his eyes, his grip on the gun tightening like he wanted to use it on you.

“We’ll continue this later, princess.”

You waited till he’d left before allowing yourself to sink to the floor, gasping for air as the reality of what was going on hit you. If your Soldat didn’t come for you, if he died (and fuck you didn’t even know the name of your child’s father) you’d be at the mercy of Rumlow and Walker with no way out.

You wouldn’t let that happen.

Bucky didn’t hesitate to slit the throat of any HYDRA agent coming his way, while Steve merely incapacitated them.

“Really Bucky?” Steve groaned as the pile of bodies grew. He had some misunderstanding that the lower ranked agents were somehow less guilty. But no, Bucky knew better. Ever single one of them would sell innocent lives for a chance for more power.

Bucky didn’t bother to respond.

12.

He moved with deadly grace, his knives slicing through the air before landing in the bodies of his enemies with frightening accuracy. He’d been armed to the teeth and hadn’t even touched a gun yet. That would’ve been too merciful.

15.

He kept a running tally of his kills as he was taught, his entire body searching for signs of you and Rumlow. Somehow he knew you wouldn’t be far apart. So as he worked his way deeper into the base and found two men, one with a scarred face that was vaguely familiar and a blonde who looked like a cheap knock off of Steve in front of a door with a heavy lock, he knew he’d found you.

“Look what the cat dragged in.” Bucky would know that voice anywhere, and he merely stared at Rumlow. He knew his icy flat stare was unsettling and used it to his advantage. But despite the fear Bucky could smell off of Rumlow as Steve finally made it to Bucky’s side, he continued to talk shit.

“Too bad you’re too late. Your girl’s cunt is good stuff. I see why you’d kill for—” The knife lodged itself in Rumlows shoulder with a sickening thud and the man cried out in pain. And then Walker tried to back away, looking for ways to escape.

“Son, just don’t.” Steve warned before the coward ran, making Steve curse before going after him.

“Open the door.” Bucky’s voice was monotone, another knife appearing in his hand before it was thrown into Rumlows thigh.

“Over my dead body.” Rumlow tried to aim his gun at Bucky, but it was quick work to break his hand and toss the gun away. Bucky grabbed Rumlow by the throat in his metal hand and began to squeeze.

“Open. The. Door.” Bucky murmured lowly, watching with satisfaction as Rumlow slowly turned purple from the lack of oxygen. Just before he would’ve snapped Rumlows throat the man gasped out,

“Open, code R-two-D-seven-alpha-eight-six.” His voice was barely audible but the technology beeped anyway, the lock turning green. Bucky loosened his grip on Rumlow but didn’t release him.

Dragged him behind as he walked to the door, hesitating for the first time since this all started. Would you even want to see him?

When he stepped inside he was ready to grovel, apologize in every language he knew.

What he wasn’t prepared for was you launching yourself at him blindly, kicking and biting and screaming,

“You’re not gonna fucking touch me!” Rumlow got dropped like a sack of bricks, gasping for air and choking on it as Bucky grabbed your hands gently, speaking as softly (he didn’t even know he could do that.)

“Это я. Я не позволю им прикоснуться к тебе.” It’s me. I won’t let them touch you. Bucky watched as you slowly stopped trying to attack him, looking at him for the first time.

“Y-you’re really here?” You couldn’t stop the way your voice trembled, your eyes darting over him as if you couldn’t really believe it.

“Da.” He nodded before looking over his shoulder at Rumlow on the ground, trying to force his body to move despite his injuries.

“You want me to kill this guy for you?” Bucky asked in English this time, making you blink in surprise.

“You can speak English? You can speak?” You blurted out in your typical sassy way, making Bucky smile for the first time in months.

“Focus, do you want me to kill him? Because I will.” He was completely serious and he watched you truly consider it for a while, before shaking your head.

“You can put a knife in his dick though.” You were completely serious and Rumlow tried to crawl away, but Bucky moved faster easily.

“Тебе не следовало брать ее.” You shouldn’t have taken her. You watched with bitter satisfaction as Bucky kicked Rumlow onto his back and threw his final knife into the bastards crotch. Watching him howl in pain made you smile, and you went to your Soldat’s side grabbing onto his metal arm.

You looked down at Rumlow and grinned. “Told you, asshole.”

Then some other guy, Captain fucking America you realized with a start poked his head in the door and glared at your Soldat.

“Bucky we need to go. Reunion can happen later. They’re going to destroy the base.” The blond spoke swiftly and your Soldat, Bucky?, nodded.

“Let’s go.”

“You’re name is Bucky—?” You tried to ask before you were swept into Bucky’s arms, his grip on you secure as he started running behind Steve.

“My name is James, but apparently my friends called me Bucky.” He explained quietly, not even the slightest bit out of breath as they ran until they found a car. Bucky set you inside like you were made of glass before coming to sit beside you and slamming the door shut. Steve took to the drivers seat with a roll of his eyes. Tires screeched as you all drove away, and for the first time since you’d been taken your body allowed itself to break down.

You breathing started to grow fast, too fast, as you hyperventilated and started to shake. Tears fell down your cheeks as you hugged yourself. Bucky reached for you and you flinched without thinking.

“It’s over. I swear I will never leave your side again. You… or the baby.” He spoke with such conviction, fierce protectiveness in his gaze when you finally did look at him.

“You knew about..?” You asked as you tried to keep your sobs in, feeling like you were going crazy with the different emotions raging through you. Fear, relief, hope, it was too much to process at once.

“I’ve been trying to get you back since the day they took you.” He admitted quietly, holding his hand out slower this time, palm up in supplication. “I’m so, so sorry I left you. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“They hurt you too. That’s why you worked for them.” It wasn’t a question, you’d seen the way his ‘handlers’ had treated him when you first met him. They spoke to him like a dog.

“I didn’t have a choice. You were what loosened their grip on me.” You took his hand, even though your fingers were trembling, and he brought your knuckles to his lips. “You saved me.”

“Then I guess we’re even.” You smiled a bit sadly, knowing it would be a long road to deal with everything that happened. But you were safe. And so was your baby. Even Bucky was back with you.

“10 minutes out to the quinjet.” Steve spoke quietly, and you startled. You honestly forgot he was there.

“Thanks Stevie.” (You noticed the way Steve’s eyes went wide, grew misty as he drove, and you wondered why that was.) Bucky carefully pulled you closer so he could wrap his arms around you, so his bones could know that you were safe.

“Where are we going?” You asked, looking up at him worriedly. “What about the baby? They wanted the baby, won’t they come for me again?”

“Let them fucking try.” Bucky growled, his arms tightening around you. “I’ll figure something out. But for now, just rest. I’ll keep watch.”

Now that he mentioned it, you were exhausted. And you trusted him. He’d come for you, just like you knew he would. And no matter what happened in the future, you knew he’d always come for you.

So you nodded, cuddled closer into his chest and promptly fell asleep.

Bucky carried your sleeping form into the plane, and Steve was amazed by how gentle his friend was with you. Bucky wouldn’t let you out of his arms let alone his sight.

Steve still couldn’t believe it. Bucky, who he’d thought was dead, was alive and somehow freed from HYDRA’s control. Bucky, who he’d thought was so broken by HYDRA that he barely remembered Steve, had called him Stevie like they were kids again.

And Steve knew it was because of you.

He was glad he’d put some other plans into motion while they’d been preparing to come get you. Plans that included Pepper creating a legal case in Bucky’s defense and sending Natasha to uncover HYDRA’s secrets to expose them.

It wouldn’t be easy, and there would always be people looking to get their hands on your possibly enhanced baby. But with the way Bucky was curled around you like a dragon with his treasure—Steve wasn’t worried. Anyone who tried to come for you again would have to deal with a wrath the likes of which no one had ever lived to tell.

Hell hath no fury like Bucky when it came to you.

#bucky ☆#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #f!reader #mina writes ☆#dark ☆#james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #tw dark content

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mrskokushibo · 5 months ago

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Just this once

Kokushibo x afab!reader

Warnings: Sex, Smut, MDNI, NSFW, 18+, Kokushibo allows the reader to be a dom for the night, pegging.

Summary: In this atmospheric, steamy dark smut, you become Kokushibo's first-ever female tsugoku, but very soon, you realise that there is more to your relationship than just sword training... He will let you discover a side of him you never knew existed...and after that, you will crave more...

Masterlist

When the word spread that the powerful Upper Moon One was searching for a new tsugoku, things became hectic at the Infinity Castle’s trial grounds, the place where all the infamous blood battles were fought between the upper ranks and where the training of new talents was most frequently conducted. The place breamed with young cocky lower ranks, strutting around like peacocks, intimidating each other with their various physical prowess.

None of them seemed to display any above-level intelligence, and only one was wearing some form of katana. You were standing slightly to the side, watching, and being watched. You were not like any of them. They were all dwarfing you physically, but you did not feel insecure. You knew you had assets none of them possessed: intelligence, cunning, and a high level of swordsmanship.

‘Line up.’ A harsh command sounded through the courtyard.

Very quickly all the aspirants were standing in a neat row, a few were still giggling and talking. But then, as if with a cut of a sharp blade, silence fell almost instantly. An intrusive, oppressive darkness began to diffuse through the warm air, a feeling as if an invisible fire was claiming possession over every particle in its range. Was this what Hell felt like? No one was left unaffected, including the lower rank of the twelve Kizuki that was coordinating the selection event. Some were beginning to cough, showing signs of their breath not coping with whatever was invading.

A few moments later, and there he was. Upper Moon One, also called Kokushibo: the source of the hellish aura that claimed everyone’s strength. He was standing at the opening of the gate, in complete silence, commanding respect and instilling fear in even the cockiest of the young demons. A tall figure in traditional attire, with a fury of black hair and six burning red and golden eyes, a demon samurai, with a power born in the deepest forges of hell.

You have never encountered a presence this ominous. Not even Muzan-sama emanated this much darkness. If you did not know any better, Kokushibo might as well be the Demon King. Slowly and majestically and without uttering a word, he made his way to the end of the row and commenced his inspection of the candidates. You did not dare look up and so you fixated your gaze on a bunch of pebbles in front of your feet. After what felt like hours, you lifted your eyes only to note that he was now two demons away from you. You could hear him speak quietly in a deep and serious voice, a quick interrogation with just one short question: ‘What makes you think that you are worthy?’

And then it was your turn. You thought you knew how to answer, you prepared yourself for ages. This was all you ever dreamt of since you became a demon.

‘Master, I simply want to be the most loyal servant that you could ever have.’

You went silent, as no more words could make their way out of your constricted throat. He stood in front of you for what seemed like a bit longer than what he did with the others. It was almost as if his terrifying gaze softened for a split second. But then he nodded and moved on to continue the selection.

As soon as he reached the end of the row, he walked back to the gate and pointed his clawed finger … toward where you stood. Immediately, the cocky demon closest to you stepped out of the line believing it was him that was chosen. But quickly, he was put in his place.

‘Not you, you fool. You.’

Kokushibo’s voice resounded and filled the courtyard with almost as much power as his aura did. His finger moved slightly more in your direction and as if in a trance you stepped out of the line without him reprimanding you. So, it was … you…

‘Training begins tomorrow. Be ready when I summon you.’ And with that, he left.

The days that followed were a blur. His training was intense with very few breaks. He was a fair sensei, but you were exhausted after each day. He did not seem to lose any of his strength or stamina no matter how hard you were going at him in the sparring. He would not speak much to you either. Apart from instructions and commands, he was short and the hours were passed in silence. He did seem to, however, soften in his attitude toward you, almost so that you could at times spot a glimpse of an occasional faint smile and a softer gaze in his six eyes.

Weeks passed like this when finally, in the middle of a tough sparring match he suddenly paused and waved you in. Without any unnecessary pleasantries, he began to speak:

‘You are progressing well and I am confident that you are ready to learn a breathing technique.’

This was beyond you, as it was only Kokushibo, Kaigaku and the human Demon Slayers that possessed that ability.

‘Will you teach me Moon Breathing, Master?’ Your eyes were still wide in disbelief.

‘No, I do not think your body could handle it. We will devise a technique that suits your physique. After all, you are a female.’ A brief, faint smile graced his face only to disappear just as fast.

He noticed, of course, how wouldn’t he? With his constant transparent world ability, he must have known all along…

The truth was, that all your life, you were uncomfortable in the body your soul was allocated to at birth. A masculine spirit that was trapped in the body of a woman. For years you were rejecting your state, training hard in any martial art you could find, just to counter what the gods threw at you. You developed a slender and athletic physique, however, remaining feminine enough to attract looks. When you became a demon, you could at least attain a physical strength that surpassed any human male. And you were content with that.

As for your looks? Well, you tried to disguise your femininity as much as it was possible, wearing a traditional gi and hakama as well as having your hair cropped short with heavy bangs covering parts of your face. This gave you a fierce look as it was only one of your narrow and predator-like eyes that was visible at any time.

You were shaken out of your thoughts by Kokushibo:

‘Before we proceed with the breathing technique, I would like to offer you an evening of respite. A small reward for your dedication and hard work. I would like to invite you to my mansion for dinner tonight. Would you like to join me?’

‘Master, anything that pleases you is my delight. Thank you for the invitation. I will be honoured to join you.’

He was studying you for a moment, just as if something else was on his mind.

‘Good, I will send a servant to get you tonight then. Be ready at the edge of Infinity Castle. Now go, you are dismissed for the rest of the day.’

As you were making yourself ready for dinner, you could not help but ponder over the true reason he wanted to invite you over to his place. But you quickly dismissed these thoughts as they were foolish and disrespectful.

When the time for your appointment finally came, you were met by a quiet demon servant of Kokushibo. As soon as you stepped on the gravel path, the heavy mist descended seemingly out of nowhere, obscuring your view to only the faint light emitted by the lantern bobbing in front of you carried by the demon leading your way to Kokushibo’s mansion. It was as if you were led by an ignis fatuus, a mysterious will-o'-the-wisp. Everything was quiet, even the sound of your footsteps felt muffled by the heavy blanket of the surrounding fog.

Your progress was slow and it felt like the trip would never end, but before excessive wariness got hold of you, the mist slowly dispersed and you could make out the contours of a wall and a large building looming behind it. Your footsteps felt loud again as you stepped on the wooden bridge leading over the moat and toward the gate. All the time you were walking you asked yourself why wouldn’t he simply teleport you to him. But soon your thoughts got distracted by what became visible to you when you stepped through the gate.

The path led into a well-manicured, large garden, with a mixture of Sakura trees and smaller, ornamental flowers and bushes. Water was pearling in a nearby fountain and warm fires set in traditional lanterns illuminated the almost magical space. Neat gravel paths cut through the garden and to your left in the distance, you could make out what seemed like a training ground.

This would not be the end of your astonishment as very soon you were being let into the mansion itself. After leaving your zori in the shoji, the servant led you through a short, dark corridor and into the room where Kokushibo was awaiting you. You did not know what to expect out of the home of a powerful demon, but definitely imagined something ominous and not overly welcoming to visitors. Instead, you were met by an inviting, ambient space.

The tatami was covered with oriental rugs, there were bookshelves on the walls and various intricately crafted decorative objects emerged from the shadows and into the amber light of the multiple lanterns scattered around the room, as you were slowly making your way toward Kokushibo.

He was already seated at the far end of the room, the contours of his noble figure merging into the space, more resemblant of a statue than a person. He watched you in silence as you approached and pointed you to your seat with a subtle hand gesture. Just as in training, he was not emanating his aura, instead, a strange sense of peace was radiating from his being.

‘You look sophisticated tonight.’ The directness of the greeting took you aback. You did indeed make the effort to look your best, replacing your masculine outfit with a flattering silken, bronze, and gold-coloured kimono. You did not, however, expect him to take notice. You just felt it was in a good tone to show respect by wearing appropriate attire.

‘Thank you, Master. You too look great, as always.’ You almost bit your tongue at your ridiculous response. His reaction was almost comical as he was apparently attempting not to laugh.

‘Well, let us eat. I gather you must be hungry.’ You nodded to this, still recovering from your idiotic and clumsy earlier remark.

He nodded to the servant waiting at the door and a few minutes later an array of fragrant dishes was placed in front of you. As you both ate, he was slowly becoming more talkative giving you more courage to ask a question that was on your mind ever since the selection night.

‘Why did you decide to choose me, Master?’

‘Well, you were the only one of that sorry lot that displayed some promise, but also because you are a female and I was curious. Not once before have I had a female in my service.’

You could not deny that ever since you started training with him, you were slowly becoming more and more susceptible to him. You never thought a male could instill such feelings in your tough, masculine heart… So, you blushed at his response. He noticed that and smirked.

‘But I must ask you. Why are you covering up the fact that you are a woman?’

Your response was long and when you were done, you felt stupid for blabbering on like you did. But he did not show any signs of annoyance. Instead, he stood up and invited you to join him.

‘Come, I have something to show you.’ He walked over to the wall where a magnificent purple katana was placed on a stand.

‘Do you see this? It is a symbol and a reminder of my own transformation. This was mine when I was still a human.’ He lifted the sword off its stand and slowly pulled the blade out of its’ saya. Instantly, you backed off. It was a Nichirin. He noticed your action and continued talking.

‘Yes, it is a Nichirin. As you may or may not know, I used to be a Demon Slayer once.’ He sheathed the katana and placed it gently back where it belonged.

‘All I am trying to say is that we all go through transformations and life is not a constant.’

He moved closer to you, his hand now touching your shoulder. He was a bit too close for comfort, but something kept you in place, you wanted him this close… It was as if he could sense your feelings.

He leaned into you and whispered:

‘Excuse my impertinence, but have you ever been with a man before?’

Whether it was the closeness or the obvious meaning of his question, either way, you started to feel the familiar fluttering in your belly accompanied by spreading warmth and wetness slowly accumulating between your legs.

‘Yes, I have, but it was never…’ You started off shyly.

‘...good...Is that what you are trying to say?’ He finished your sentence for you and you nodded in response.

‘Well, how about I show you how it should really feel like.’ His deep, warm hushed voice was sending shivers down your spine.

‘Now, Master?’ was all you managed to whisper.

‘Yes, now. I cannot wait.’

With that, he lifted you up bridal style and teleported you both to his bedroom.

He set you down on the floor in front of him, cupped your face in his large, calloused hands, and gave you the softest flutter of a kiss. His hands were soon untying your obi and once it was off, your kimono came undone and he slowly removed it from your body. He stepped back, admiring you.

‘You are a work of art…’ He moved closer to you again, his hands caressing your breasts and back. His touch was firm but gentle, no one has ever handled you this well. With skilled hands, you untied the belts of his hakama and the obi holding his kimono in place and removed the entirety of his garments. You were both naked, warm bodies embracing each other in anticipation of the approaching pleasure. He started slowly guiding you toward the futon and when you were close enough, he commanded in a soft voice.

‘Lie down, I wish to pleasure you now.’

He positioned himself between your legs, your sex straight in front of his face. He looked you deep in the eyes as he dove in to lick the outside of your folds. His gaze did not drop yours as he started to spread your slick-covered labia to grant himself better access. He held them apart with the fingers of one of his large hands and buried his face between them, his tongue lapping up your juices, pressing down firmly, and moving at a steady pace. A finger was now tracing circles around your sopping opening, only to proceed to snake its way into your pussy.

Next, you could feel two fingers scissoring inside you, small, deliciously wet squelching sounds filling up the room. He was growing harder and needed some friction to not become too pent up, thus he pushed you further onto the bed so that he could rub his hard cock on the futon underneath him. He started groaning as his manhood finally received the desired pressure and proceeded to abuse your cunt at a more ferocious tempo, concentrating on the area around your clit. You were consumed by your pleasure, unable to do anything else but arch your back and moan, giving yourself fully into the waves of warmth washing over you. Your hands were desperately grabbing and pulling his hair and as he directed all his focus onto your clit, you began to edge, tears filling up your eyes.

He noted your inner muscles clasping hard down on his fingers and your thighs being sent into small convulsions. With a few hard and fast taps of the tongue, he sent you into your orgasm, making you scream and wail. While rubbing his aching hard dick back and forth into the mattress, his face got squirted with your juices and as he was lapping up your cum, he hissed:

‘I can’t hold back anymore, I’m coming.’ And so, he climaxed, spraying his seed onto the sheets beneath.

His own orgasm did not seem to distract him much as within a few breaths he was back to abusing your now overstimulated clitoris. The whole area between your legs was swollen and blood-filled and he was working you relentlessly.

‘Please stop, I can’t.’

‘Yes, you can and you will.’

His eyes had a playful cruelty in them as he kept on licking and rubbing you all over. Tears were pooling in your eyes from overstimulation and your legs were shaking beyond control.

‘This is too much, please..’ You were pleading in protest with a hitching voice.

‘I will pull one more out of you, even if we will be going for hours.’

He intensified his actions, increasing the pressure and strength and very soon you were overcoming the overstimulation and heading toward another climax. With a loud, throaty moan, grabbing hold of his mane for support, you reached another release. This one turned your mind into fuzz and you were simply lying there, splayed on the futon, like a wet rag doll.

‘I am not done with you yet. I need to be inside you.’

He spoke quietly while climbing on top of you and spreading your legs with his massive, strong thighs, his voice sunk an octave lower sending you into overdrive. He was huge, everything including his perfect, large cock was as if carved out of marble. You were tracing the outlines of his muscles, wiping the small droplets of sweat that glistened sensually on his smooth skin. He lowered himself on you, nearly crushing you with his weight, and kissed you, snaking his long demon tongue deep into your mouth. You reciprocated and it was as if the two of you were trying to devour each other. The fire of your passion burning your senses up to dust.

Meanwhile, he shifted his hips and you could feel the tip of his cock press against your gaping entrance. Your core was now aching and dripping so you took him in with ease. His length was filling up your pulsing and needy pussy, your clenching muscles milking him while already on the way in. He commenced thrusting into you, slowly at first but soon increasing his speed and intensity as guided by your savage moans. You were on the edge of consciousness. What he was giving you was beyond anything you could have ever expected. It was as if he was moulding your body to his and all you could do was to allow him to become the master of your senses. The fire inside your core was now intense and you felt that anytime soon, you would climax all over again.

But before that happened you could feel him grow inside you and his thrusts became harder and deeper. And then suddenly, his abdomen muscles contracted and with one deep push into you, he emptied himself painting your velvety walls with his warm, thick cum. As if his seed was the only thing able to extinguish the fire in your core, you came almost simultaneously, squirting all over again, causing you to fill up to the brim with both of your combined juices.

You closed your eyes as you were completely spent, with him still inside and on top of you, thick white slick running out of you and down on the sheets. He was kissing your cheeks and neck softly and when a whisper left his lips, it seemed as if you were deep in a hazy dream:

‘Next time I will grant a wish that I can sense lies in the depths of your soul. I cannot make you a man, I am not God, but I can help you feel like one for a night. Come back here tomorrow and I will make it come true.’

When you woke up the following morning, your body was still imprinted with the memory of his touch. The intensity of sensations kept your flesh nearly at boiling point, despite having been granted release so many times… You moved your hand to your groin and started pleasuring yourself, moaning louder and louder the closer you were to your imminent climax. With eyes closed and thoughts invaded by him, you rode out your high and collapsed exhausted.

You had a day off as Kokushibo was on a short mission somewhere. You took the opportunity to just sleep, eat and relax. After all, tonight would bring new intense experiences… You were equally anxious as you were excited.

With the approach of the night, you were once again led through the same misty path and to Kokushibo’s mansion. This time around, you were led directly into his private sleeping quarters. Tonight, the room was filled with candles and there were wine and various snacks next to the large futon. He greeted you with a deep, passionate kiss and went over to get something from a nearby side table. When he walked over back to you and before handing you the item, he lifted your head by the chin and looked you deep in the eyes:

‘Are you ready to fulfill your wish? Do bear in mind, however, that I would not do this for anyone else but you. Do you understand? So here, I think this will help you feel more, mhm, in character.’

He handed you the object and you were perplexed. You had heard of such a thing but never saw one in real life, let alone used one. It was a fake penis, made in black, shiny, and bouncy material, strapped to a bunch of belts. You must have looked confused as he interrupted your hesitance:

‘It is a strap-on. You use it as if it was your own cock.’ He smiled playfully and winked.

‘Let us see if you are up for it. And oh, I almost forgot.’ He went over to the side table again.

‘You will need this. To make it smoother for us both.’ He handed you a small bottle of oil.

‘Well then, Master, I want you to fuck me hard.’ His lewd and playful words almost made your jaw drop.

Quickly, you regained your composure, as a chance like this, granted by no other than the powerful Kokushibo, would most likely never arise again. You manned up and walked up to him. You grabbed him by his long ponytail and yanked his head back while undoing his clothes with your other hand. You nipped his exposed neck with your fangs and whispered:

‘I will make you scream in pleasure, by the end of the night you will be begging me for more.’

As you let go of his hair, he looked back at you, a mischievous smile lighting up his face. He seemed pleased with your performance, eagerly awaiting your next step. You nearly tore his clothes off him and pushed him onto the futon. You proceeded to deliberately slowly remove your own garments. He was watching you with a hungry look in his eyes, biting his lip and cocking his head playfully. When you were completely naked you grabbed the strap on and after a short moment of inspection, you put it on, making sure it sat on properly.

‘What would you like me to do now, Master?’ He spoke in a flirtatious tone. His cock was fully erect, small pearls of precum already running down the shaft.

‘Lay flat on your stomach.’ You commanded.

*This was starting to feel good*, you thought. Your initial astoundment with being allowed to treat your sensei like this was as if washed away. Instead, you began to feel a powerful adrenaline rush ripping through your body. You grabbed the bottle of lubricant and climbed onto the futon.

You crawled on top of him, pressing his hard cock even deeper into the bed, causing him to release a deep sigh. His huge, hard glutes felt so good under your hands when you were massaging him, spreading his buttocks, and landing an occasional spank.

‘Harder, please.’ He taunted you while lifting his head up and giving you a lewd smirk.

‘No looking.’ You riposted, surprised at your sudden firmness. But you did listen and spanked him harder this time, your hand leaving a red print on his firm flesh.

‘Yes, Master.’ He chuckled out and moaned when the hard spank pushed his hips as well as obviously his dick into the mattress.

‘Please, fuck me hard.’ He kept on taunting.

‘Quiet.’ Another hard spank landed on his ass.

This time he obeyed and you could get to the main course. After you poured some oil onto his buttocks, you started spreading it around, massaging, and using your fingers to prep him before the oncoming penetration. You poured more oil into the palm of your hand and spread it all over the black dildo attached to your groin. Without a word you positioned the tip of it at his entrance and slowly, but steadily pried your way into him. There was the faintest twitch from his hips and thighs, but very soon you could see him slowly pump his hips into the mattress as you were moving in deeper. His breath was heavy and apart from that he was now completely silent. No more bratty remarks nor comments seemed to be in place anymore.

As you began pumping in and out, his hip movements followed your rhythm. You were holding on firmly to his buttocks with both your hands, the feeling of being in this position made the already strong onslaught of adrenaline completely empower you as you felt a surge of strength and aggression run through you. You gritted your teeth as you increased your pace. You could feel your cum literally run down your thighs, you have never been this aroused in your life. It was as if you were turning into a wild beast with its own pleasure as the only goal.

You saw him move his hand to his groin, grabbing hold of his cock to speed up the nearing climax. You could see his arm muscles flex as he was pumping alongside the continuous hip thrusts into the mattress. You sped up again causing him to growl and as you pumped relentlessly, stimulating his prostate, his whole body contracted and he sprayed out cum all over the sheets and his chest with a loud growl.

Cautiously, you pulled out. You grabbed a towel from the bedside table and wiped him clean, removed the strap-on, and wrapped it in the towel, dropping it to the floor.

As you climbed off him, he was lying on his side, breathing heavily, his eyes fogged up with lust and the remains of the recent pleasure. His lips were parted and he was looking at you from under his bangs.

You crawled closer to him and gently rolled him on his back. His arms fell limp to the sides and his face lit up by another lewd smirk. Without a word, but looking him straight in the eyes, you wrapped your hands around his limp cock and started stroking it until hard. It did not take long to get him erect and very soon you were straddling him, sinking yourself down onto his thick length. Your excessive wetness made it easy to do it in one swift move that made him almost gasp for air, as you seated yourself fully, he was now essentially balls deep inside you. Without hesitation, you started bouncing on him, every hard movement creating the perfect friction and making you moan in pleasure. He tried to touch your breasts, but you batted his arms away.

‘No touching. Not until I tell you to.’

You could feel the pressure inside your core reaching the point of being almost painful. Chasing your own release, you leaned over him, your chest almost flat on his, and began humping frenetically. In your mind you imagined him being your little bitch and you her master, dicking her down with your large manhood. You were humping hard and fast, almost at the limit of what your thigh muscles could take.

‘Rub my nipples.’ You hissed out and he obeyed.

When your sensitive buds ended up being rolled between his long fingers, you started to lose control. The entire depth of your inner muscle clenching and milking him relentlessly. You lowered yourself down to his neck and sank your fangs into the skin while scratching his arms with your claws. And doing this pushed you over the edge, your orgasm sending shockwaves of pleasure as you screamed your lungs out.

You kept on humping him lightly even after your climax, but your movement was slowing down as exhaustion was finally catching up with you. That is when he caught you off-guard.

‘I would like to come too, Master. Please?’ He whispered in your ear, landing a powerful thrust into you, making you almost fall off him.

You looked him in the eye and began riding him as if in a trance. He was groaning quietly as you felt his cock grow and twitch. And as you increased your pace and licked the side of his neck, ending up nibbling on the lobe of his ear, he came, growling loud and spraying you full of his cum.

He wrapped his arms around you and you remained in his embrace for the rest of the evening. You were not sure what the future held, but right here, in this moment where time stood still, you were exactly who you were meant to be.

Tagging: @horror4themasses @muzansfangs @sunsblaze

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samodivaa · 1 year ago

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Training Techniques

Winter Soldier x Reader He is not allowed to move an inch—he can only watch you pleasure yourself—but why is there a ring on your finger?

Warnings - smut, light angst, mastrubation(f), rough sex, choking, breeding kink Words - 2600 ⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ You have absolutely no pleasure in the work in which you sometimes so madly indulge—training the assets with delicacy of words with which their handlers don’t approve of—Soldat is your favorite, with his expression of endless and unconditional gratitude and a silent promise of complicity unto death—he may not remember your face, but he always remembers your voice, its' gentleness. The soporific air of your room, in the soft breath of bread and sweets—he was sent there, because he was misbehaving again.

It has not been in the pursuit of pleasure that you have periled this life and reputation—but here you are—on your bed trying to sleep when you see him sitting on the chair, waiting. And this isn't a romance. You're not a damsel in distress and he is not the handsome prince who comes to save you—this is his desperate attempt to escape from torturing memories, from a sense of insupportable loneliness and a dread of the impending doom, but they didn’t know that.

You know.

He can't stop looking at you—Soldat is gazing at a distant star. It's dazzling, but the light is from tens of thousands of years ago, because he is not allowed to move until you instruct him to.

Subconsciously, he licks his lips at the sight at your body in a night dress and wonder if he will ever just cum in your mouth as you suck him off to your knees…or if he’ll take you by the hair before he’s finished and fuck you into a sobbing heap before blowing his load. It doesn’t seem worth the risk —but he wanted this for so long now, he needs to voice it.

“Please-” —an irrational and indulgent mistake. you stand up on your elbows in shock at the word he utters—his eyes drift leisurely back up to your face and his lips twitch. Soldat has fallen into a state of feverish lust, but that is not a justification for his disobedience. His heart goes into a shameless delirium when your eyes meet. “Desperate?” you mock, but underneath the mockery Soldat finds a reservoir of understanding. You lay back on the bed as nothing has happened, and your voice takes on a restful strength “I still need to punish you for that, Winter” He behaves as naturally, with such discretion, that he does not lose his composure, not even when you remove your wedding ring—who committed the impertinence of marrying you? He goes through a crisis of disappointment, fury, jealousy, but this is your way of giving Soldat a layer of respect—he wants to call it loyalty. And maybe you can be his or maybe you will be entwined in this sexless foreplay tonight.

He wants to ask so many questions, but he can’t. Not now. There is a pent-up curiosity, hysteria of his unsatisfied needs, unnaturally suppressed communion and also a kind of tense respect, because if he is obedient enough—he will be rewarded.

“You will watch me, that's all you will do for now” you say, your voice has sunk to a whisper. Your words stoke a warmness in his stomach, a fire in his crotch. And he doesn’t care what you will do with him—even if you want to cut him, sharpen him however you please—that's all he knows anyways. He wants this memory to stay what it is, one intense moment, something that is strong and sweet enough to stand on its own. Your room has turned into an idyllic paradise for a good many years, your skin glistening in the light coming from the slits in the blinds as your hands play with your breast through the nightgown. He has lost his voice and a thread of cold sweat runs down the path of his spine, suffocating with heat, because of the black leather clothes—the stiff collar and the tight harness that is restricting his breathing, is becoming increasingly annoying.

His eyes are growing moist with indignation, with angry impotence, and for the first time, he is barely controlling himself. It is the natural sequel of an unnatural beginning—he needs to be patient, but it’s hard—not harder than his cock—It's more erotic, more intense to watch you touch yourself. He is master of what he does, but never of what he desires. You are greatly overestimating his self-control. But this is what you are testing tonight—his ability to subordinate the impulse to fuck you. Self-control might be as passionate and as active as the surrender to passion, but you need to show him who is in charge while your panties are becoming steadily slicker. All you need to do is to tell him to come, but you refrain from doing the thing you want so badly—to be consumed by Winter. You glance up to find his eyes blazing with raw need—blue orbits pleading for you to command him. You spread your legs open, positioning yourself in front of him—one hand still toying with your nipple while the fingers of the other hook in your panties and drag them down your legs slowly before throwing them in his direction. His breath stutters as they land on his left boot and Soldat eyes them wickedly, knowing that all he can do is watch.

"Good, very good, Soldat '' you coo, sliding two fingers into your core, scissoring and stretching, curling over the one sweet spot—imagining his metal digits. You remove them as your index finger takes their place, rubbing slow, torturous circles on your clit, sliding down to tease your opening, then back up. Over and over again.

He slides his tongue across his teeth, remembering the taste of your nectar, becoming more and more aroused with every beat of his heart that runs down his shaft.

“I want you so much, gosh” he is stirred by the lust in your smooth voice. You are breathing deep with your mouth wide open—he doesn’t blink, he doesn’t dare blink. Soldat can swear he feels the pressure of your palms on his cheeks—or is it a memory? Everything is a memory to him. “I want you here, fucking me” There is something raw and pleading in your voice that surpasses sexual desire, these fleeting moments of carnal craving.

With the auspicious attention of a strained killing machine, he examines your fingers, your shivering body and listens to your muffled moans meticulously. It is such a tumultuous and intemperate invasion to his mind—your scandalous behavior is pulling at every string of his nerves and self-control.

It is such a prolonged act, so meticulous, so rich in all aspects as you are giving yourself over to the deserved adoration of your own body and pleasure. It leaves Soldat breathless at the tremendous spectacle of your nudity and lack of shame as you bring yourself closer to the edge.

“Jesus-I am so close” You confess, surprised at how fast the arousal is budding. You arch your back and hips buckle like an electric current runs through your body, moaning, rubbing your clit faster, forcing yourself to let out a louder moan. The orgasm wrecks your body from head to toe and being watched by a ferocious male is exciting—all he needs is a feeling as primitive and as simple as that of love.

You see his eyes, still unblinking and you feel menaced by some invisible danger—you are keenly aware of every movement, every breath you take. Lust is a weed that grows in the vacant lots of an abandoned mind and the stacks of bad words that you have been forced to swallow, spills “Soldat, come here” you command, languid and serious.

You lick your lips, trying to quench the thirst for him. Your throat is dry as you watch him between your spread legs, getting up and slowly coming towards the bed as his thick, black pants fall to the floor around his feet, the belt clattering noisily. Winter craws on top of you and he cannot articulate a word, capable only of an animal sound, a strangulated wheeze that shocks him deeply, enraging him, this sudden loss of the faculty of speech that feels somehow bestial and forgotten. He breathes, his chest rising and falling so close to yours.

“Kiss m-” you whisper the words, and before you even finish saying them, his mouth is on yours and you are melting under his lips, eyes flutter shut—and it is blissful oblivion—giving you the most intense and explosive kiss you two have ever shared. With the coldness of his lips and the warmth of his tongue beneath yours, you vow an endless bliss. He pulls back with a groan—Winter’s sky-blue eyes stare back into yours, and in his eyes you can see no parting from you. You put your hands on either side of his face, and the room falls away. You have never gotten so lost in a kiss before. And the kiss is not gentle. It is a wrestle of who would lead the excursion into the territory of passion and ecstasy, heat and unending craving for one another. You suck on his lower lip between your teeth and he lets out a low groan. It sounds almost aggravated and definitely impatient. Fire looks into his quiet eyes, touches his dear, familiar face—you lean upwards for a moment and dip your head towards his ear, grazing his soft skin with your teeth, while your hand slides to the harness. Soldat stills, angling his mouth towards your bare, perfect neck. You feel a warm slickness on your skin, his tongue trailing a path towards your shoulder.

It is a wild, animalistic compulsion, an urgent need as he suddenly slots himself between your legs and you turn your head away. Your fear is returning, crawling through your limbs and leaving you numb to everything. You shut your eyes, gripping the sheets, and whimper when he pushes himself inside you. He releases a ragged breath before moving, slow but with purpose, and you simply take it with soft whimpers and gasps as he pumps in and out of you, now starting to set a steady pace. His eyes, the blue completely gone from his them, soften for a moment and he kisses you tenderly before he whispers in your ear, his breath puffs against your skin. He spends a good amount of time on your neck, a brief stop at the base of your throat—he wants to bite you, but he can’t—something melts inside Soldat that hurts in an exquisite way—you are not his. “Who did you marry, Snow White?” He asks, voice throbbing with menace—before slipping inside you again and burying himself to the hilt. Sex with you this time is different, he has never felt this dominant, this claiming. He is so far in that his balls are right against your lips. You arch your back and moan “It doesn’t matter” as he slides back out nearly all the way before slamming into you hard and fast. You wrap your legs around his waist as he slams into you over and over, the only sound in the room is the skin slapping. You close your eyes and swallow. Your mouth parts and stills—your voice is barely a whisper as his tip touches your cervix. “Pierce…I am closer to ruining his plans, closer to freeing you” Despite your eyelids being tightly shut, a single, hot tear runs out of your eye. You are so angry that it has escaped—so angry—he stops his trusts completely. You moan as you feel his movement out of you. Then, as he almost has the tip fully out, he slaps it back in. When your eyes meet his gaze as you are sitting here staring at each other, time stops. Your fingertips reach to trace the metal shoulder, but he grasps your hand with his own. He leans down, far enough that the ends of his hair brush feather-light against your face, catching in your lashes and tears.

His breath, warm and measured, hits your cheek. Two breaths. Three. Then you stop breathing, and a second later, you feel his lips on your mouth. It is hungry, desperate. His metal hand wraps around your neck, thumb presses into the skin—you moan, it ripples over your nerve endings. His breath caresses your ear again—his grip on your neck tightens. And this makes you always still and submit…the act of Winter taking shameful, contemptuous possession of you is the kind of rapture you want.

“Next time-” you try, but with your restricted of oxygen brain, you are not able to. He tastes passion. He tastes lust. He tastes his power over you. He tastes a world of stimulants he’d never imagined. You are right there in front of him, he can do whatever he wants. Winter loosens his hold—only to observe you as you breathe raggedly, sliding down slowly, a moan ripping from your throat.

“Next time he calls you in his house, I will be there, too”

I have nothing to give but my heart so full and these empty hands.

“I need to kill them one by one, Winter” His mouth curves into a smile—his eyes are light blue and dancing with life. He pauses for only a fraction of a second. Then he leans forward and presses his lips to yours "Okay, yeah, yeah" a devil-soft whisper. He blinks several times like he is trying to comprehend your plan word by word. His trusts become so hormonal—you want his roughness. His other hand slips to your waist, pushing you into the mattress as he fucks you. For him, sex intimately relates to the most primitive kind of human contact, which can satisfy all of his needs he has been deprived from. "Winter " you gaspe breathlessly "Slow down" You try to let out a choked squeal, but his metal hand tightens around your neck again, muffling any sounds, your toes curling as he brings you steadily closer and closer to orgasm, reeling from the thrill and the fear from both his forceful thrusts of his powerful hips and the choking. Soldat is unrelenting in his domination of your body. But you are his at this moment, your cunt clenching around him while you mewls and grunts fill his ears, he can’t slow down even one bit. Logic would say that this is insane, every other fibre of his being says it's right—he has to fill you up. You can't move. You can't breathe. And his pace. And the adrenaline. “I will cum inside—dear Snow White” This is his demarcation line, all of a sudden it seems unfair to withhold it from you. Your inner muscles tighten as waves of pleasure start to build and ripple out. You don’t normally get off this fast, but you are lost in the exquisite sensations—you put your hands on his metal arm as your body bursts into flames, your fingers curling into the metal. You can’t make a sound and it is a shame, because it is the best orgasm you ever had. It is unbearable, unreal, unimaginable—it is too much as your eyes can only see darkness due to the choking. You can only hear a broken and hoarse cry escaping his lips, his warm come filling you up completely.

You can hear his breath, as your vision slowly becomes solid—a stray lock of dark hair falls into his eyes as he is looking down—he moves his hips back and then into you again, enjoying his cock being in a tub of cum, swimming in your honey.

#I WAS POSSESSED #but this is real #metal arm kink fr #winter soldier x you #winter soldier smut #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier fic #winter soldier fanfiction #smut #slight angst #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #marvel x reader #bucky barnes imagine

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lotties-ashwagandha · 3 months ago

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BODY & SPIRIT

valeria garza x fem!reader, 1.4k words

kinktober day ten: hate sex (NSFW). this probs doesn’t even count as “hate sex” tbh it ends fluffy and is more exes who fuck and get back together but I went with it bc kinktober is a struggle fr and at heart im a fluff fic writer

Valeria leans back against the wall, her arms crossed as she studies you. Her gaze is harsh, unwelcoming as you stand in her home.

It’s been almost a year since you last saw her. You parted on awful terms after an argument, and the day you left was the last time you laid eyes on her — you had stayed far from Las Almas ever since.

Now, you don’t have a choice but to come to her. You have the Task Force after you, viewing you as a suspect for your previous association with El Sin Nombre, and you know that without her you won’t be able to evade them.

Valeria has been uncharacteristically reserved since you appeared. You suspected she might try to flaunt your reliance on her, that even away from her you are still seen as hers — or that immediately she would turn you away and leave you to get out of this on your own. Yet she’s been pensive, addressing you in short, stinging quips and judgemental silences.

“You never should have left,” she says finally, shaking her head. You see it, now, her fury toward you. She steps away from the wall – for a moment you expect a resignation, a sudden declaration that you never should have left because she loved you. But when she speaks next, her tone is dull. “I could have kept a fucking eye on you, and nothing like this would have happened.”

You scoff. Again with this, how she always gets when she’s upset, scorn delivered through casual remarks. Jabs taken at you in a way that makes it hard to accuse her of being explicitly insulting – the implication that you are incompetent in keeping a low profile without her managing it for you. She looks at you in the same way she does at her most useless men, the men she disposes of.

It feels unnatural that she would despise you, but fitting in your reciprocation of her resentment. If there were any other options, you never would have come back to her.

“Are they tracking you?” Valeria asks suddenly. She notes your silence – you don’t know – and she nods solemnly. “If they are, you’re leading them right to me. Is that what you want? I get them out of your way, and they come for me instead?”

No, you want to answer, but you’re too proud to give her that. You need her alive, safe in her own way. It’s nothing to do with the time you spent with her, you tell yourself. It has nothing to do with the love you once held for her, it has nothing to do with how deep and potent your fury runs towards her. Valeria is an asset to you even as you travel endlessly away.

“Answer me,” she orders and takes another step closer to you. You gravitate closer to the wall. You feel like you’re shrinking under her gaze, sinking through the floorboards and down into hell.

“I’m not trying to get you killed,” you say, and though what you say is true it comes out sounding like a lie.

Valeria hums in response, quiet as she looks you over – for a wire, for a weapon not yet confiscated, for anything.

“What?” you ask impatiently. “Do you think I’m stupid enough to try to murder you on a whim? Do you think I care that much?”

“No,” she confirms, and when you step back as she takes another forward you feel your back brush up against the wall. She’s close to you now, so close you feel every bit of confidence you held before her wither away. The handle of the pistol concealed at her side brushes against you, and to avoid it you stand a little straighter.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Valeria explains, meeting your eyes. “I’m sending you to a safe house so you’ll be out of my fucking way while I deal with this. If anyone finds us, amor, if you’ve led the government to my door…”

She doesn’t have to finish explaining for you to understand — if anyone finds out about her operations, you’re dead. You’re dead even if she dies herself before she can get to you. You’re hanging onto her good will by a very thin thread.

You nod in understanding. The look of accusation she gives you never falters. She makes no effort to move away, only stays so close to you, watching as you’re bent to her will.

You remember how it felt when she looked at you in love instead of this. When you felt nothing but comfort in her proximity, and you went to her in pain out of a craving for comfort instead of out of obligation. A new anger rises in you, and in a horrible, cruel moment of reckoning you realize it’s not only because you hate her but because you love her. You need her for safety not just of body but of spirit.

You want her, you want to kiss her, feel her hands roam over your body and claim it so immediately as hers in the way she always used to.

It’s sinful in every sense of your prior reservations regarding Valeria to act on it, but when you look back into her eyes you see the same longing compelling you in her gaze. In a rush of impulsivity you kiss her, a heady adrenaline barreling into you in a sudden impact.

Returning your kiss, Valeria pushes you back against the wall. Her hands travel down your body, her touch rough as she handles you — nails digging into you, hands squeezing a bit too hard, a burning kiss of tongue and teeth.

She pulls back for a moment, and with a firm grip on you she leads you into the familiar space of her office at the end of the hall. Part of you wonders how it’s changed — if she still has a picture of you in her desk drawer, if the one of you framed together still sits above the fireplace, but there’s no time or room for you to check when you’re shoved forcefully onto her desk.

“You never should have fucking left,” she repeats when she backs up a bit to pull your shirt off. This time the words ring of something different — of longing, a desperation that is sour on the tongue to admit but so satisfying to act on. “I needed you.”

Valeria undoes the clasp of your bra, pulling it off of you, her hands grabbing at your chest. She kisses you again before you can respond – she wants the final say, to shame you, and the way she touches you feels too good for you to deny her the satisfaction of doing so.

You undo the button of her pants, and she frees you of them. You sit bare on her desk as she stands fully dressed in front of you. The power affects her, it’s visible in the way her kiss deepens – her hands trail down to your thighs when she steps between your spread legs, running her hands up them and grasping at them like she’s starving for any piece of you she can get her hands on.

One of her hands inches dangerously close to you, hand brushing your clit and making you gasp. Valeria’s eyes scan over your form, and then find yours when she addresses you. “You’re mine. You always have been.”

It doesn’t take much for her to slide two fingers into you, her gaze firmly set on you as she takes in your reaction to it – you’ve missed her, as hesitant as you are to admit it, and the way your body responds to her reveals every bit of craving you’ve tried to hide. A moan escapes you as she works her hand in a steady rhythm, gentle praises meeting your ears that are hard to completely take in when you’re so enveloped in the sensation of her.

“My good girl,” she coos, free hand coming up to rest softly at the base of your neck. It draws your attention back to her.

You whine when she pulls her touch from you, and you’re confused when she guides you off her desk onto your shaky legs – but when she helps you into her desk chair and lowers down onto her knees, your desire for her is renewed.

Valeria pulls you to the edge of the seat, giving biting kisses to your thighs and looking up at you with reverence – in her gaze you see your desire mirrored, in body and in spirit, and in the end you will look on her with love again.

#valeria garza x reader #valeria garza #cod x reader #cod #call of duty #cod smut #valeria garza smut #call of duty smut #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #cod mw2

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