#don’t tell Eros | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sinner-as-saint · 2 months ago

Text

scary? my god, you're divine

Hitman/Mob!Bucky x Reader

Run-through: Your marriage to Bucky Barnes was crucial in stopping the rivalry that had been getting rather violent recently between the two families. You agreed to it. But there was one little problem. Although people knew of Bucky as being a ruthless, fiercely loyal, and feared hitman, no one had ever seen his face. In the rare occasions when he’d been seen out during assignments, it was rumoured that he always wore some sort of mask which covered most of his face. So you ended up marrying a man, and had no idea what he looked like. But surely that wouldn’t be an issue. It’s not like his one touch would get you addicted. Who cared what he looked like? It’s not like you could grow to love someone like him anyway… right?

Themes: arranged marriage, age gap (reader is in her mid twenties, bucky’s in his late thirties), mentions of violence and death, hitman!Bucky, smut, fluff, explicit language, virgin!reader, HEA

Something woke you up in the middle of the night.

And you’d been staring at the dark ceiling above your bed for the past few minutes now. What had woken you up? It could’ve been the strong winds hitting the large Georgian windows. Or perhaps it was the soft ticking of the nearby clock. Or maybe even the weight of all the incessant thoughts running through your head.

Gods, you thought, what a day.

It had started out like any other. Your father was pacing around, worried and barking orders on the phone, trying to find a way to put a stop to this chaos that was quickly forming into a full war between him and his number one rival. Small attacks had turned to frequent drive-bys, threats had turned into taking turns and blowing up each other’s warehouses and clubs. And it would only get worse and worse.

But this morning, as he watched you come downstairs and into the dining room for breakfast, something in his eyes was different. And you could tell what was coming. You had been thinking about this for days. So when he sat you down and discussed how you could do your part in helping to put an end to all of this.

“It’s only a matter of time before he sends his son, his favourite weapon after us all,” Your father sounded defeated. “And none of us would survive him. No one ever does. You know that.”

You nodded, understanding what he meant. “I know.”

The son of your father’s rival, Bucky Barnes, was a name which could make even powerful men like your father tremble in fear. He was like a ghost. No one ever saw him. No one knew what he looked like. Those who had seen him claimed that he always wore a muzzle-like mask to conceal his identity. He was known for being his father’s most prized weapon. They say he never misses, that his aim is and has always been as sure as Eros’ arrows. He was like an evil Cupid.

“The marriage would only be on paper of course, you don’t have to live with him.” Your father explained, seeming desolated, “But you being married to him would make us family, and…” He trailed off, sighing.

But you knew what he meant. Family meant everything in this society. If your family and the rival’s were joined to each other by marriage, all attacks would cease. Because keeping family safe was everyone’s number one priority, even in this line of work.

So this was all up to you now. Your family’s safety, the safety of people who worked with and for your father, all the allies, and friends, and acquaintances. It was a heavy weight to carry.

“I’ll do it.”

Things happened so quickly after that. Phone calls were had, arrangements and deals were made, and by the afternoon, a sheet of paper was brought to you. That’s it. No groom, no fancy shit. Just a piece of paper on which Bucky Barnes had already signed. And with your signature added next to his, you two were now forever husband and wife by law.

It was weird, being married to a man you had never seen before. He was just a name. Granted, a name with immense magnitude in the society, but still just a name. No face to go with it.

By the evening, your things were packed. It was an order by your new husband. He wanted his new bride in his home, and things were so freshly mended that neither you nor your father wanted to argue. So Bucky sent cars and a bunch of his soldiers to escort you to his house. It was not unexpected that he was so absent from all this. Bucky Barnes had a reputation of living in the shadows. He was so rarely seen.

Bucky’s house was not too far from your family home. In fact, the closer you got to your new home, the more you realised that despite everything, you did not mind this as much as you thought you would.

Your husband’s home was this stunning piece of architecture. A lavish Georgian-style mansion. Beige stone, carved details and mouldings around the many windows and main entrance. Dark shingles on the roof, well-manicured lawn, a long driveway giving it a sense of both elegance and exclusivity. The mansion sat on a beautiful, seemingly endless estate. Lush and green. It was a testament to the wealth and the power of its owner.

You were politely led inside the home by one of the many staff members who took care of the house. And the interior was just as breathtaking. Luxurious, with the right amount of vintage accents.

“We did what we could with the limited time we had to prepare a room for you.” The kind lady had said to you. She also mentioned that this room would be entirely yours. Bucky apparently had his own on the other side of the mansion.

You murmured that it was alright, and when she finally showed you to the room they had ready for you, you were pleasantly impressed. The layout, the colour theme, the decor, all of it was to your liking. You even had a personal little balcony which looked over the endless green backyard.

That night you dined alone, which was not a surprise. Everyone knew Bucky Barnes was a busy man, and he was apparently above trivial things like dining with his new wife. But the silence was welcomed. After dinner you found yourself back in your bedroom, and soon in bed with a book.

Well, maybe this was your new life now. Grand mansion with an impressive library. Solo dinners and kind staff members. A giant, dreamy bedroom all for you. Dare you say, it wasn’t too bad.

–

But here you were now, unable to fall back asleep after some mysterious thing woke you up. You sighed, sitting up and leaning against the headboard. You couldn’t even blame your new surroundings for your inability to sleep. Everything here was so quiet, and comfortable. Even this new bed felt like laying on the fluffiest cloud. Perhaps you could read some more–

You froze when you heard it.

Someone breathing. Someone else’s breaths. A soft exhale, but it was enough to make your heart race in panic. It was the middle of the night. And there was someone in this dark room with you.

Slowly, you tried to reach for the lamp on your bedside table to turn it on, but then you heard a voice say, “Don’t.”

A smooth, relaxed, male voice. Sounding like it came from one corner of the room. It could only be one man, couldn’t it?

“Bucky?” You questioned, for some reasons pulling the covers up to your chin as if he was not a man but a ghost.

A pause, then he said, like he was gently teasing you, “Hello, wife. Can’t sleep?”

You blinked a few times to adjust to the darkness better. You strained your eyes until you could see the silhouette of a man in the corner of the room. He was sitting in one of the sofas near the unlit fireplace, quiet, still like a marble statue.

There was almost no light coming into the room. The thick curtains allowed very little moonlight in, and it was hard to see. But you couldn’t ignore that large silhouette now that you’d noticed him. Something near him was shiny, almost metal like, you couldn’t tell what it was.

“Do you always lurk around in the shadows like a ghost?” You asked, wondering where the hell you found the confidence to talk to one of the finest hitmen like this. It’s not like he would shoot you if he didn’t like you. A small voice said. Would he?

A chuckle. Deep, and careless. A boyish sound.

“It’s my house,” He responded in that same gentle but teasing tone, “I lurk wherever I please.”

Well, he did have a point there.

“Well then,” You said in a casual tone, “If you’re done lurking and spying on me, I’d like to go back to bed.”

A soft scoff. Then he said, “I’ve watched you toss and turn for the past half an hour. I’d say you’re having trouble turning your brain off.”

Half an hour?!

“Wouldn’t you?” You retorted, keeping your voice calm and steady. “If you were forced to marry someone who’s so mysterious that no one’s ever seen them before, wouldn’t you have some trouble turning your brain off?”

“Ah.” He got up, and you could tell by the sound of his footsteps that he was approaching the bed, “No one forced you to marry me. A suggestion was made and you agreed to it.”

You replied quickly, “The alternative was watching everyone I love and myself be murdered by you, so semantics.”

Another chuckle as he stopped at the edge of the bed, so close to you. You refused to move. You tilted your head up but could still only see his silhouette. He spoke in that teasing tone again, “They said you were smart, and beautiful. Guess they forgot to mention you were bratty too.”

You frowned. “What?”

Silence. Then he began moving away from your bed and towards the door. “Good night, wife.”

“Good night,” You muttered, slightly annoyed and confused, “Ghost.”

You heard his soft chuckle right as he shut the door behind him and left you all alone again in the dark. You didn’t dare turn the lamp on even after he left.

—

“Is Bucky ever home?”

You asked one of the staff members at breakfast the next morning. The lady smiled at you and answered, “He keeps to himself. We rarely ever know if he’s home or not. He works at odd hours, you see? Besides, our job is to take care of the house. We clean, we make the meals and leave them in the fridge, we get our paychecks each month. Everyone is happy. We don’t pry.”

You nodded, sipping on some tea. “So… are you one of the people who don’t know what he looks like?”

“Oh no. I saw him recently.” She said, smiling.

“How recent?” You asked.

“A couple of months ago. He’s a busy man, he’s rarely ever home.”

Unbelievable.

“Doesn’t it feel like you’re employed by a ghost?”

She smiled again, refilled your cup and said, “Oh, we’re used to Mr. Barnes. Sure, sometimes it feels like the house is way too empty. But look, now you’re here! We get to take proper care of someone for once.”

She was so cheery and kind that you couldn’t help but smile at her words. How on earth did a man that grim manage to have the best staff members in the whole world?

—

The following night, Bucky came to see you again.

You woke up upon hearing the door of your bedroom opening. You sat up again, leaning against the headboard. You didn’t reach for the lamp on your bedside table this time. Instead you said, “Lurking again, I see.”

“Oh yes,” He answered, taking a seat on the same sofa by the dark fireplace. “How was your day, wife?” He asked, as if this was the most normal way to have a conversation.

“Good.” You said, “I spoke with your staff members. They say they barely ever see you at home.”

He sighed, “I barely ever am at home.”

You rolled your eyes even though you knew he couldn’t see it. He was too… intangible. Faceless. There was nothing you knew about him aside from his profession. And not knowing was starting to annoy you.

“Why can’t I see you?” You asked. “I mean it’s not fair. I married you. I’ll eventually see you someday.”

He was silent for a moment. Then asked, “Will you?”

“Well, yes.”

“What for?” There was that teasing tone again. So subtle. But it was there.

Your face burned. “Well… we’re married.” You stated the obvious. “And it won’t be long till our families start asking for, you know, grandbabies.”

“Babies can be made in the dark.” His smooth voice felt like a gentle caress. Like the finest, cool silk sliding over your warm body…

Oh no. You can’t like his voice. Not yet.

“That’s not what I–,” You sighed, “Why are you so against showing your face? Are you ugly?”

He chuckled then. Loudly, if you could see him you’d surely see his shoulders shaking. “You think too much, wife.” He got up again, ready to leave. “Good night.”

You sighed, defeated, and listened to the sounds of him leaving the room. Then almost angrily whispered, “Good night, husband.”

—

“It’s because he’s ugly, isn’t it?” You asked two of the staff members one morning while they set the table for your breakfast. “That’s why he doesn’t show his face?”

The two ladies chuckled to themselves, and one of them said, “No he isn’t.” She sounded confident too.

“Have you seen his face? Like properly?”

They both nodded.

“And? You don’t find it weird that he doesn’t show his face?” You questioned. “He refuses to let me see him. He only comes to talk to me in the dark. Like some messed up Eros.” You whispered the last part to yourself.

One of the ladies said, gently, “Give him time. He’s not… terrible.”

—

“Your staff speaks highly of you.” You said to him when he came to see you that night. Again, sat in that corner like a ghost whose only purpose was to haunt your bedroom specifically.

“Do they?”

“Yes,” You made yourself comfortable, leaning against the headboard like you had the habit of doing. “Do you pay them to sing your praises?”

He chuckled. “Is it that hard to believe that I’m not some sort of monster?”

You sighed. “If not then why can’t I see you?”

“Not yet.” He said.

“Why?”

“Because I said so.” He replied, and by the sounds of it, he stood up. Surely ready to leave. “Now, is there anything you need?”

You tried to see if you could tell where he was standing but the room was too dark. However, it seemed like, judging by the sound of footsteps, that he’d gotten closer to the end of your bed. “There’s nothing to do around the house. The ladies take care of everything. I appreciate the library, but…”

He was quiet, like he was thinking. Then said, “I’ll see to it.”

“I’m assuming you won’t let me go back to work in my family’s companies.” You could tell he wouldn’t.

“No,” He said, as expected. “You’re my wife now. I’m well equipped to provide for you and see to your needs for the rest of our lives. But if you have any hobbies, please, indulge away.”

Something about his calm tone made you confess your little secret, “I like to paint. I’ve always wanted to be an artist.”

You didn’t know why you were telling him all this. Perhaps the dark helped you open up better. Maybe the fact that you didn’t know him made it easier to talk. Like how people tend to prefer texting over calls. Him being so invisible made it so much more effortless.

You continued, “I always wonder what it must be like to have an exhibition of my works.” You chuckled. “I know it sounds vain but… I’ve always wanted to let my mind and soul leak all over canvases, and share it with the world. I think it’s such a brave thing when people do that.”

He was quiet for a few seconds, then spoke in that teasing tone, “Painting, huh?”

You rolled your eyes. “You don’t get to make fun of me, ghost.”

He chuckled. “Get some sleep, wife.”

And then he left.

—

The following morning, you woke up to two surprises.

The first one was waiting for you at the breakfast table. You noticed the box on the floor immediately. It was partially opened, and had a note stuck to it.

The note read: ‘Since there’s nothing to do around the house…’ written in a messy handwriting. Surely Bucky’s.

You opened the box and in there, on a folded blanket, was a sleeping, fluffy little puppy. A black lab it seemed. With a pink collar around her neck. You gasped as you gently picked it up and couldn’t resist bringing it up to your face. Puppies always smelt so good.

The little one yawned and let out some cute noises as you held her up to look at her properly. By now the two ladies whom you saw frequently around the house walked up to you and one of them said, “He left something else for you.”

You followed the ladies, new puppy in hand, and they led you to what seemed like a newly built studio. It was in an area of the mansion where you didn’t go very often. And as you walked in, you gasped in surprise for the second time that morning.

It was located on the ground floor. A bright and spacious space. The beige walls felt like a giant blank canvas in itself. The large Georgian windows allowed the perfect amount of light in. And everything in the room was neatly organised. Art supplies, paints, canvases, palettes, easels.

Oh, it was perfect.

The ladies left you to explore on your own, saying something about bringing you breakfast in here. But you were distracted by the bright yellow sticky note on one of the easels. You walked up to it and it read: ‘For your mind and soul to leak all over. Paint me something. I’ll consider it a wedding gift.’

You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you read and re-read the note left by your mysterious husband. You whispered to your sleeping puppy, “Maybe our ghost isn’t so bad, huh?”

Hours went by.

The ladies brought you and the puppy your meals, a bed for the pup, snacks for you, all while you were busy letting your creativity flow as much as possible.

The first few canvases were horrible according to you. You hadn’t picked up a paintbrush in so long so it felt like day one all over again. But gradually, over the next few canvases, you could see what your brain was trying to create.

The blank canvas soon turned into flowy shapes. Curves, facial features, hands. Entwining bodies. Two of them. And the colour purple, lots of it. It didn’t make too much sense at first, but the more you worked on it the more you realised what you were painting.

It was your version of ‘The Abduction of Psyche’. How fitting.

By the time you were done and happy with it, your back was aching from sitting on that stool all day. It was almost time for dinner. The sun had set. The puppy was awake so you held her up to show her the canvas and asked, “You think our ghost will like it?”

She let out the tiniest, softest howl.

“Yeah, I think so too.”

You left to shower and have dinner. Then once it was time for bed you asked one of the staff members, “Does Bucky have some kind of an office?”

She replied saying yes he does, and that she could show you where it was. You grabbed the not yet dry canvas and carefully carried it all the way to where Bucky’s office was. The lady again left you all by yourself to explore.

At first you didn’t want to spend too much time in there. It was Bucky’s space after all. But then you thought, if he was comfortable walking into your bedroom at odd times during the night, why shouldn’t you check out his office?

So you did. You left the canvas where it could dry without any problem and where Bucky would see it upon entering the room. Then you began exploring. The room was not what you were expecting for someone like Bucky. You thought it would be less… old school.

He had a vintage looking typewriter on his desk for gods’ sake. Not one he used of course, but it added layers to his character you thought. Dark wooden furniture, comfortable looking chairs, more bookshelves filled with cloth-bound books. It was… cosy.

So cosy in fact that you grabbed a book and made yourself comfortable on one of the chairs. You’d read for an hour or so then head off to bed, you thought.

But soon, you drifted off to sleep. Right there. In Bucky’s office.

You woke up and felt something soft and fluffy moving around on your lap. You opened your eyes and quickly realised you weren’t in bed. The room was dark. With very little light coming in from the outside. There were no curtains in this room, but also it was situated in an area of the mansion where very little moonlight came in.

Before you could panic though, a voice spoke up from not too far away, “You’ve been busy today, I see.”

Ah, Bucky. And fuck. You’d fallen asleep in his office.

You refused to feel embarrassed. So you asked, “Did you like your wedding gift?”

“Yes.” He replied, and gauging by the sound you could tell he was sitting at his desk, in the darkest corner of the room. “I’ll hang it in my office.”

You smiled in the dark, feeling a little proud of yourself. “And where’s my wedding gift?”

“In your lap.”

Fair.

“What should we name her?” You asked, reaching to caress your puppy who let out an adorable grunt. “Hedone? Donnie, for short?”

He let out a chuckle. “You are really leaning into this whole Eros-Psyche thing, huh?”

You shrugged. “Well, I wouldn’t have to if you’d just show me your face. But you keep choosing not to, so deal with it.”

A pause. Then he asked, “You like your new studio?”

That made you sit up straighter. “I love it. Thank you.” Then you added, “My family always thought painting was a waste of time. They said it kept my head in the clouds too much. That it was… pointless.”

He was quick to say, “It’s not. Besides, your hobbies don’t have to make sense to anyone else but yourself. And I’ve seen the other canvases you left in the studio. They’re good.”

You turned to face the dark corner he was in. “You think?”

“Yes,” He said. “We can hold an exhibition if you want. Let me know when you’re ready.”

You let out a surprised chuckle. And when he didn’t laugh you realised he was serious. “Bucky, it's not so easy.” You explained calmly. “There’s so much work that goes into it, there needs to be some cohesion to the art pieces. There’s marketing, there’s research, there’s…” You exhaled, “There’s a lot of work to be done. Art exhibitions aren’t as easy or quick as you think it is.”

He replied, “Leave all that to me. Just let me know when you want to hold one.”

Just like that?

“I… okay.”

You felt warm in a way you’d never felt before. No one had ever taken your interests so seriously before. You’d never even been able to discuss this freely about your hobbies. And here Bucky was, ready to listen and interact with it.

You got up to leave because this was… a lot to process. “Well then. Good night, Bucky.”

A soft scoff. “Think I liked it more when you called me a ghost.”

You smiled as you approached the door, puppy in hand and amazed at how well you were able to navigate in the dark. “Night, ghost.”

He gave you a satisfied hum, then, “Good night, wife.”

—

It was bizarre to admit but you’d gotten used to those conversations in the dark with your husband. Days went by quickly given how engrossed you were with painting. Especially with the thought of a potential exhibition now in the back of your mind. Gods, that would be a dream.

And while your days consisted of painting, playing and training your puppy, exploring more and more of the grounds and your new home, making quick trips to the stores to get more supplies, catching up with your friends who were still trying to grasp the fact that you got married so quickly, getting to know the household staff and the guards better, your night consisted of waiting and fighting your sleep until Bucky came to talk to you.

It was always short conversations. Filled with easy banter and teasing tones, sarcastic comments and you asking each and every night if he was in the mood to show his face. Bucky always said no. And you always sent him off with a ‘good night, ghost’.

You had gotten used to your ghost. As had your puppy. She would bark happily each time Bucky would enter your bedroom door at night. She’d run to him for playtime and cuddles as he sat in his dark corner and spoke with you until you fell asleep.

Bucky would often leave you some kind of a note, for you to read in the morning. At the breakfast table, or in your studio. Sometimes he would leave compliments and comments on your dry canvases. Eventually, you stopped fighting the smiles which formed on your face as you read his notes.

But all of it only made you want to see him more. Not that it would change anything. Bucky had quickly become… a friend, you’d say. A confidant if you will. He had become a habit. Part of your routine.

And then one night, he didn’t come to see you.

You waited. He usually came around midnight. It was well past 2 a.m. and he never came.

At some point you went downstairs, pretending as if you just needed some water. One of the guards caught you trying to peek out into the driveway from the kitchen window.

“Boss is not home yet, ma’am.” He said.

You acted like you didn’t care. But still asked, “He does this often?”

“Sometimes.”

You nodded. You took your drink and with your puppy in your arms you walked back upstairs, passing by the many guards who were on duty inside the house at nighttime.

“It’s alright, he’s probably just busy.” You whispered to the sleeping pup as you made your way up. “Or maybe he’s hurt and tending to his wounds somewhere else.” You felt a gentle pinch in your chest at the thought of Bucky hurt and alone out there. So you forced yourself to think of something else. Something way worse. “Or maybe he’s with someone else.” You scoffed, nuzzling the soft fur of your pup, “This marriage means nothing to him anyway. But that’s alright, we don’t need him. I’ve got you. We’ve got each other. Don’t we?”

Safe to say, you went to bed slightly annoyed that night. And in denial too because you refused to admit that you missed him.

–

There was a note waiting for you in your studio the next morning.

It read: ‘No I did not spend the night with someone else. I’ll explain later. See you tonight, wife.’

Huh. Looks like the guards have really good ears.

Well, whatever. It’s not like you were impatiently waiting for night to come just so you could talk to your ghost of a husband. Right?

Except you were though. So much that you couldn’t paint a decent thing. You were easily giving up on each canvas, and leaving a trail of unfinished work the more time went on.

Eventually you sighed and left the studio. You tried reading but that wasn’t happening either. So you did the only thing you knew would take your mind off things. You asked the ladies to show you where everything was kept in the kitchen and you got to baking.

Which you did until it was time for bed. Your mood was off, and it was all because of a faceless man. And that somehow annoyed you even more.

You grabbed a plate of the mini muffins you’d made earlier and made your way upstairs. Your puppy had just gotten used to the stairs so she happily followed you everywhere you went now.

You proceeded to sit in bed, and eat your muffins angrily and forced yourself to try to sleep.

You woke up sometime later. And you just knew who was in the room with you.

Except he wasn’t in his usual spot.

He was standing by the windows which faced your bed this time, with his back to you. The curtains were pulled, the moonlight came and there was his dark silhouette. And… you frowned as you noticed the shiny metal arm.

“You’re home.” You said.

Bucky turned his head to the side, “I am.” He said.

You took a second or two to admire the side profile. With the moonlight shining all around his silhouette he looked like a fallen angel of sorts. “You didn’t come home last night.”

“I was out working,” He said.

“Maiming and killing?”

“You know me so well.”

“Is that a… metal arm?” You questioned.

“It is.”

“Were you hurt?”

“I was.”

You sighed again. “Is it always going to be bland answers and mystery with you?”

“Get used to it.” He said in that teasing tone.

You got out of bed as quietly as you could. “I think I liked you better without the attitude, when you sat in the corner like a ghost.” You took some steps away from the bed, approaching the giant windows. The room was rather spacious so it would take some more steps to get close to him. If you’d only–

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do.” He warned, but remained in the same spot.

You groaned. “Don’t you think this is getting tiring? I mean, I’m married to a man I’ve never seen before. In fact, no one has ever seen you. Why? What are you hiding?” You added, sounding defeated.

Bucky lowered his head, which only accentuated how broad his shoulders really were. He sighed. “Do you know how much trouble could’ve been avoided if only Psyche trusted Eros?”

You rolled your eyes. “I think she had her reasons. A mysterious, faceless lover who only shows up in the dark and hides in the shadows is bound to raise some doubts. Don’t you think so?”

He chuckled. You blinked and he’d turned around to face you. But despite that, you couldn’t see his face at all. Even though he was inches away.

He was quiet. Observing you with interest. The moonlight allowed him to see all of you, and he just… stared for a moment or two. A shiver ran down your back. An unfamiliar, but pleasant shiver.

Without a word said, Bucky reached out and gently touched the thin strap of your silky night dress resting on your shoulder. His metal finger gliding along your skin and making you gasp at his cold touch.

“What’s this?” He asked in his usual teasing tone. “Trying to tempt me with this excuse of a night dress, wife?”

Fuck. Had his voice dropped lower?

Fuck! He was so close to you. You didn’t even notice that your heart had begun racing. Your breaths had deepened. Shit. Why was this so hot?!

“Are you? Tempted?” You asked with a steady voice, without thinking obviously. You just needed to say something so he wouldn’t notice the way you were basically panting after him like a thirsty dog.

He chuckled. But remained quiet.

So you said, “Thought so.” You sounded smug but you were feeling the complete opposite.

Bucky scoffed in that arrogant way he often did. It was insane how easily you were able to pick up on his mannerism when you hadn’t even known him for that long. “Is that what you think? That I don’t want to sleep with you?”

Oh.

Oh this was bad. Because now your brain was making up hot, steamy scenes in your head. Scenes involving you and your faceless, mysterious husband in the dark. Entwining bodies on soft bed sheets. Fuck, you should paint that. No, what?

“Then why haven’t you?” You found yourself asking.

Okay then, bold as fuck it is. You’d gone past the point of no return now. Guess it was time for this conversation.

Bucky’s fingers remained on your shoulder, tracing the thin strap there. And you couldn’t see it, but you could hear the smirk in his voice when he asked, “You want me to?” His metal hand dropped to your waist and before you could fully process it, he pulled you closer, leaned in to whisper into your ear, “You want my hands all over you, wife?”

You could feel his slight stubble against your skin as he spoke. His lips brushing against your ear, making you gasp and tremble. Your hands found their way to his shoulders. And oh, he was pulling you even closer. Your chest pressing against his. The cool material of his suit felt amazing against your warm skin.

“Look at you,” He cooed into your ear. “Is this what you want? Hmm?” He placed both his hands on your waist, pulling you into him. His lips moved lower, brushing against your neck as he spoke. “You like how rough my hands feel?” He moved his hands up and down your sides. “Do you know how many people I’ve hurt with these hands?” He chuckled when he heard the tiniest moan leave your mouth. “You’re so soft and warm, aren’t you worried what these hands might do to you?”

He nuzzled your neck, hands roaming all over your sides and back and squeezing your butt. You became so pliant under his touch. Tilting your head back to allow him to kiss all over your neck, pressing your chest more and more against his like you couldn’t get enough. The layers of clothing, you wanted them gone.

With a shaky voice you murmured, “I can’t tell if you’re trying to scare me or turn me on.”

He laughed. And it was the best sound you’d ever heard.

“You’re sick in that pretty head, huh?” He teased. “That beautiful brain is filled with filthy, dirty, dark thoughts, isn’t it?” His metal hand reached up and carefully wrapped around your throat.

You gasped as he squeezed just a little bit. Those dirty thoughts he spoke about really started to fill your head.

“Are you just all talk or–,”

He cut you off by dragging you all the way to your bed, still holding you by the throat.

The back of your knees hit the edge of the bed and he gave you a slight push, ending with you falling onto your bed on your back. You looked up at him, hovering above you, his lower body pressing into yours.

“Do you just run that mouth?,” He asked, supporting himself with one hand while the metal one remained wrapped around your throat, his voice low and menacing but in a way that made your legs part on their own so his hips settled in between them. Your bodies fit together like the most perfect puzzle pieces. “Or do you know how to take it like a brat as well?”

You felt the need to let him know then. “I don’t know,” You said, sounding both breathless and bratty. “I’ve never had to take it.”

He paused for a moment. Then asked in subtle surprise, “What do you mean?” Even his grip around your throat loosened completely.

You squirmed in slight embarrassment but that only caused your hips to grind against his and for a moment there both of you let out a strained moan. Fuck. The tension between the two of you was almost physical now. Even in the dark, even with Bucky being nothing more than just a shadow above you.

“I, uh…” You cleared your throat, still feeling his cold fingers all over your skin, “I’ve never been with anyone before.”

He was quiet. As if thinking. You tried your hardest but you couldn’t see any of his facial features. You knew he had a slight stubble because you’d felt it earlier. But aside from that, you knew nothing. Not even his eye colour.

“You want us to stop?” He asked, shifting his body slightly as if he was ready to pull away if you asked him to.

“No,” You answered way too quickly. Then you got bold again and let your hands find their way back to his shoulders. You pulled him down, closer to you just a little and said, “This is okay.”

His fingers moved up, from your neck to your mouth. “Yeah? You want this, huh?” He mumbled, tracing your mouth with his fingers. You shivered under his touch. “You’ve been a whiny little brat lately, haven’t you, wife? Pouting and all just because I wouldn’t show myself to you.” He whispered, leaning in to just brush his lips against yours. You gasped at the sensation of his soft lips rubbing against yours. Bucky chuckled at your reaction. “Don’t think my staff doesn’t report back to me. I’ve been well aware of all the times you asked the ladies to give you details about me.”

Now that made you squirm in embarrassment. Still you said, sounding a little annoyed at being caught. “Can you blame me?”

“Can’t you just trust me?” He argued.

The danger and authority in his tone had your thighs clenching together to try and alleviate the torturous pain in between your legs. You were almost certain you had never been this turned on and annoyed at the same damn time before. You sighed in frustration. “This isn’t fair.”

“No, it isn’t,” He said, pulling away and began undressing you to your pleasant surprise. “Deal with it.”

Oh fuck.

Fuck… You had to hold back from whimpering each time his hands rubbed against your skin. He took his time in sliding the straps of your night dress down your shoulders, dragging the silky fabric down your body, leaving you more and more naked under him.

You shivered once he left your night dress bunched around your waist carelessly. It wasn’t just because of the slightly cold air. It was because even though you couldn’t see him, you could tell he was staring right at you.

You spoke in a hushed voice, not daring to speak loud in fear that it might break whatever spell you were under. “So you get to see me naked all you want, but I can’t see your face?”

He chuckled. “You want me to leave this room right now? Leave you here all wet and squirming? Or do you want me to take care of it and make you come? Huh?”

That shut you up really quickly.

“I thought so.” He sounded smug again when he said that. “I should spank you for the brat you are. But since it’s your first time… I’ll be nice.”

His hands touched you everywhere, your thighs, your stomach, your sides, your chest, your neck… everywhere. He left you gasping and trembling under him.

“Please.” You caught yourself whispering.

Bucky leaned down, his soft mouth brushing against your cheek as he said, “Please what?”

You squirmed, “Touch me, please.”

He chuckled. You felt his warm breath against your skin as he kissed his way down your naked body. “Look at you,” He murmured, lips brushing against your stomach, “You’re so eager already.”

You heard the faint chuckle which left his mouth the moment he noticed your legs spread apart for him naturally. Your face felt like it was burning but fuck, you were too turned on to even be properly embarrassed. Also, being in complete darkness helped.

Damn. You were really getting intimate with your husband whom you hadn’t even seen yet. And somehow that fact was making you want this even more.

But that mystery stopped being an issue the moment Bucky leaned in and kissed your wet folds, his tongue slowly circling around your throbbing clit and licking down, parting your wet folds with ease.

He poked at your entrance with his tongue and your body felt hotter than before. Back arching off the bed as you let out a soft moan at the foreign feeling. Fuck he felt good. You whimpered as you felt his tongue stroke your most sensitive parts. Your immediate reaction was to pull your hips back from the overwhelmingly good sensation his mouth was causing. And that made him grip your thighs tighter, keeping them pinned to the bed.

“Stop moving.” He ordered and the authority in his voice made you tremble.

You whined as you felt his strong arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping you in place and close to his mouth. The metal hand on your warm skin made you shiver and tremble so much that you were thankful for the darkness.

The small amount of moonlight which came in allowed you to only see the silhouette of his broad shoulders, and his head moving slowly, sensually in between your legs. Fuck… somehow the mystery only made it hotter.

Oh you were fucked in the head for real.

And oh, Bucky was a fucking tease. Once he noticed how easily you cried out and moaned for him, he slowed down and began kissing around your clit just to purposely mess with you. He kissed your thighs, purposely avoiding touching where he knew you needed him the most. He kissed down all the way to your core, and gently bit your skin around your inner thighs.

“Bucky, please!” You cried out, hand reaching for his hair. When you managed to grab a fistful of his soft hair, you gave it a gentle tug. “Stop teasing me.”

“You don’t get to give me orders, wife.” He said, sounding all proud and mighty. “I could just walk out of here and leave you like this. Naked and squirming.”

“Please,” You begged again. You could feel your arousal trickling out of you.

A scoff. Then he leaned in again. You whined and whimpered under him, with your legs wrapped around his head. Fingers in his hair, massaging his scalp instinctively as he flicked, and sucked, and teasing your clit as much as he could.

“You’ve been a brat because you wanted your husband’s attention so badly, huh?” He taunted. “Is that what you wanted? Just my attention?” He chuckled. “You’re as calm as a happy kitten now, aren’t you?”

His stubble rubbed against your sensitive skin, and the friction burned a little but it was the kind of pain you kept wanting more of. You wanted more of him.

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good,” You murmured, throwing your head back, moaning as he kept teasing your entrance with the tip of his tongue.

“Come for me, wife.” His hands wrapped around your thighs, securing you in his grip as he pushed his face further into you, making you cry out loud.

You couldn’t even hold on for much longer, and ended up coming undone all over his tongue. Heart racing, legs trembling in his grip as you came. Your moans were soft and incessant.

Fuck… that felt amazing.

You had barely gotten your heart to stop racing, and Bucky was already standing up and in the dark you couldn’t see very well but it did look like he was moving away from the bed.

“You’re leaving?” You asked, unable to stop yourself from sounding a little upset at his departure.

All he said was, “Good night, wife. See you tomorrow.”

You scoffed after he shut the door behind him, leaving you in darkness yet again. “Ghost.”

—

That night ended up being the first of many.

Your days consisted of painting, and finally finding a flow in most of your pieces. Perhaps if you’re able to make a decent collection, you could start thinking about the exhibition seriously, you thought. When you weren’t painting you were either training your rapidly growing puppy, or baking. You’d begun taking your puppy out for walks around the mansion, consequently doing some more exploring of the grounds.

After all that, each night you’d get in bed and wait for Bucky. It became part of your routine. And each night with him was different. He’d spend his time touching you slowly until you were purring for him like a kitten. Kissing you all over your body in the dark. Making you come all over his tongue and fingers. Kissing you until you moaned and pulled him closer just to feel his weight pressing down on you.

But he would always leave after making you come. And you two never actually fucked. Neither would he let you make him come.

On nights when he wouldn’t make it home, you’d worry yourself to sleep. But then each morning you’d find a note from him either in your studio or the breakfast table. He would always say some cheesy shit. And he would always promise to come see you later that night.

On nights when you two didn’t engage in anything sexual, it was still just as fulfilling. Bucky would tell you things about his work, his past, his family. You learnt that he was over a decade older than you, and teased him about being an old man until he pinned you to the bed and tickled you until you couldn’t breathe.

You learnt that he liked to keep to himself and stay as far away from his family as possible. He liked peace and quiet, which would explain his lovely home being here away from most people.

The more you learned about him, the easier it was to grow fond of him. But the more you grew fond of him, the greedier you got. You wanted more. More of his time, his touch, his attention, and most of all, you wanted to see him.

The mystery, while hot as fuck, was killing you.

—

One night, things changed.

Bucky came into your room as usual. He’d gotten bolder lately, he wouldn’t sit in the corner like a ghost anymore, instead he would find his way to your bed and only leave that bed after making you come hard.

Tonight started out the same way.

You felt his hands all over you as he pulled you closer to him under the covers. You giggled as he bit and licked that one sensitive spot on your neck. Your fingers had a habit of finding themselves in his hair. It was insane how easily you’d gotten used to being with him in the dark. How easily you could find his mouth with your own. How easily you’d find your way into his arms.

It was weirdly comforting. His warmth, his voice, his touch.

“Tell me about your day,” He murmured, kissing your neck while his hands grabbed you and caressed you wherever he could reach.

You squealed when you felt his metal fingers wandering dangerously close to your clit. Then said, “It went pretty well. I went out to buy some supplies, made a new friend at the store, I went to see my father but he wasn’t home. I took our dog for a walk, I painted…,” You gasped when his mouth trailed down till he took a nipple into his warm mouth, while he slid two fingers inside you gently. “Oh fuck…” You whined.

He kissed his way up to your mouth again and said, “You sound so good when you moan for me, wife.” His lips brushed against yours.

He was so close. And it was dark. And you wanted so desperately to see him.

He moved his fingers expertly in and out of you. Making sure to brush against your most sensitive spots each time, turning you into a whimpering mess under him. He gave you a gentle kiss, swallowing your moans as he brought you closer to the edge.

You whimpered and whined, then in the moment you just blurted out, “Can I please see you now?”

Bucky stopped. He pulled away from you, making you whimper again as he got up and got out of your bed.

In the dark it took a while for you to figure out where he was, whether he was still nearby or already making his way out the door. But he was here, standing near the bed.

“We talked about this.” He said, sounding grave and disappointed.

“But it’s been so long.” You argued. “I trust you.”

He let out a loud exhale and said, “Then trust me when I say, it’s better this way.”

You let out a sigh. “You can’t keep me in the dark forever, Bucky. Literally!”

“Yes I can. I will.” He said arrogantly. That tone of his bothered you. “It’s better this way.” He repeated, but it sounded a lot like he was trying to convince himself instead of you.

“Oh screw you!” You said with enough bitterness to make a grown man flinch. “If you won’t let me see you then stop coming into my bedroom. I don’t want to see you unless you agree to let go of this weird persona.”

“Fine.”

—

That night was the last time you heard from Bucky.

He didn’t come home the following day. Nor the one after that.

And no one knew where he went.

You could tell something was wrong when you began noticing that the guards were talking in hushed voices whenever you were around. You noticed that the amount of security around the house doubled. That’s when you began to worry.

By the third night, the entire house was filled with this almost tangible tension, worry, and fear. The house staff wouldn’t talk to you as much. The guards were always in and out of the house. The head of security advised you to not wander too far away from the house while you roam the grounds.

You noticed the guards would follow you whenever you left the property. Be it when you left to visit your father at your old house or when you went out to buy supplies.

Then you worried some more. But no one had answers to your questions. Nobody knew where he went. Whether he’s away for an assignment or if he’s simply choosing to be away from home.

You tried your hardest to pretend that you didn’t care. You were still a little angry. After all, why couldn’t you see what he looked like? You’d spend so much time with him in the dark, running your hands all over him, tracing the outline of his facial features, he never had an issue with that. But why couldn’t you see him?

You were angry, but also very much worried by the fourth day. You missed him, you realised. He had become such a habit, such a constant in your days. His sarcastic humour, his gentle hands, his comforting embrace, the way he left you notes in the morning, the way he took your art seriously.

Fuck. You sat up in bed one night, patting ‘his’ side of the bed softly. You missed him. Badly. You felt a pinch inside your chest which you had never felt before. It hurt. You wanted him home. You admitted to yourself with a painful sigh.

“Where are you?” You whispered, looking at the dark corner of your bedroom where he used to sit in silence like a ghost. “It’s okay if you want to stay in the dark forever.” You looked around the dark room which now without him seemed so much bigger and empty, “Just come home.”

—

The next morning, as you half-heartedly approached the kitchen, you overheard something. And quickly realised you shouldn’t have heard it. It was the two ladies talking in hushed tones, the ones who usually served you your meals and often kept you company while you baked.

“...cannot tell her, she’ll be heartbroken.” One of them said gravely.

Sudden panic made your body freeze. You pressed your back against the nearest wall to keep yourself hidden while you processed those cryptic words. No, no, no. Is he hurt? Do they know something you don’t?

The other replied, “But she deserves to know. Even if it’s not confirmed yet. I mean, do you see how she smiles when she reads his notes? Clearly she had grown to care for him. She needs to know.”

The other argued, “I know, but I cannot imagine how hurt she will be when she hears about the rumours that her own father kidnapped her husband due to some past rivalry which was supposedly laid to rest after their wedding.”

“They’ve been looking for him for days now. It’s been too long, he should’ve been found by now.”

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!

No. This cannot be happening.

You carefully walked away from the kitchen. Thinking, processing, analysing.

If your father did it, it must’ve been for some shitty, arrogant reason. He probably just wanted to rub it in Bucky’s family’s face that he could still eliminate his biggest threat if he wanted to. To show that he could still get rid of them by holding their most precious weapon hostage. To toy with them by making them wait in anticipation. Your father had done it before. Not with Bucky, but other people. He usually never asked for ransom but he liked having his rivals beg him for mercy.

Shit. He’s had Bucky for days now.

You moved without thinking twice about it. For some reason, your brain knew exactly what to do even though your heart was still bothered by a multitude of emotions. It felt like you were on autopilot.

You rushed into Bucky’s office and grabbed a handgun from his desk drawer, checked if it was loaded. It was. You knew Bucky kept it there for safety, he had told you that one time when you two were in bed together.

You let out a frustrated sigh, then felt movement around your ankles. You looked down at your puppy and gave her a sad smile as you bent down to pet her. “I’m gonna go find daddy, okay? I’ll be home soon.” You left her with a kiss.

You rushed back downstairs and found a group of armed guards in the foyer near the front door. You didn’t have the time to explain it all to them, especially since you were driven by a gut feeling. Instead you asked, “Do you guys have a way of tracking my phone, or my car?”

One of them nodded. The rest frowned in confusion.

You tried to keep your calm as much as you could even though your heart was racing. “Okay, I’m gonna go to my father’s house. Don’t follow me yet, but I need some of you to come find me as soon as I begin driving away from there.”

Surprisingly, they just nodded and let you go.

The whole time you drove to your father’s house, it felt you were constantly having to force yourself to keep calm. After four days of having no idea where he was, and now as all the puzzle pieces fit together, it was hard to remain calm. You just wanted to get to him.

And while you drove, unanswered questions tormented you.

Was he hurt? Where was he being kept? Was he beaten up? Was he even conscious? Would this end badly? How far would your father take this? Would he hurt him?

Before you knew it, you were entering your father’s property. The guards let you in like they always did. You had to take a minute to breathe in your car before stepping out and going inside your old home.

Luckily your father was home.

You walked in and stopped in the middle of the foyer as you saw him making his way down the stairs. He slowed down when he noticed the glare you sent his way. And when he stopped in the middle of the grand staircase, with you still glaring at him, the guards who were scattered around the entrance noticed. You caught the way they silently got closer and closer, slowly reaching for their guns.

Good thing you’d brought your own.

The guards, as well as your father, froze in place the moment you pulled out Bucky’s gun and pointed it at the man responsible for all of this shit. No one made a single sound. No guard moved to even try to disarm you.

You looked at your hand, which was surprisingly steady as it held the gun. And there, on the side of the shiny metal, you spotted Bucky’s initials. Your heart throbbed in a painful way, but you refused to be emotional right now, even though you needed a good cry after having bottled up your feelings for the last few days.

You glared at your father, who was still shocked, and asked in a cold tone you’d never used before, “Where’s my husband?”

Your father frowned. “What do you think you’re doing?”

You repeated, “Where is he?”

Your father scoffed, “You’ll shoot your own father? Is this how I raised you?”

“And you’ll kidnap your own son-in-law? For what? To show that you’re still the shit?” You questioned in a slightly raised voice.

He sighed like he was disappointed, “You don’t know what–,”

You cut him off. “We had a deal, right? That these petty attacks would stop after the wedding? That’s why I got married, isn’t it? Because we’re supposed to keep family safe?”

He was quiet for a moment. Then began talking again, “If I could just get them to–,”

“Enough!” You sounded just as tired of his bullshit as you were. “Whatever plan you have, just stop!” Then it came spilling out of your mouth, “You were supposed to protect me. All of us,” You said, referring to your older siblings, “Instead you married each of us off in exchange for whatever or whoever was going to benefit you more.”

He argued, “If this works, you can come back home. Don’t you want that?”

“No,” You said, and realised you meant it. “This was never home.” You admitted. “He treats me better than my own family ever did. He doesn’t tell me that my art is a waste of time. He doesn’t keep me imprisoned inside his home. He doesn’t choose who I should mingle with and who I shouldn’t. He doesn’t force me to join family businesses because it’ll be good for his image.” You taunted your father. “And he’ll never sell me to the highest bidder.”

Your father made a sound like he was disgusted. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love with him?”

You remained quiet. I care for him, you wanted to say, deeply. But that would be lying, wouldn’t it? Truth was… you did fall for him. His calm voice. His gentle but playful demeanour. His dark humour. His brilliant mind and sharp tongue, always ready to argue and debate. His gentle touch… you loved him.

“What I do and who I care for is none of your concern anymore.” You concluded, stepping forward and keeping the gun aimed at his face. “Now, where is my husband?”

The smirk on your father’s face was maddening. “You’ll never find him,” He said. “I’ve hidden him well.” He added.

You gave him a smirk as well. One which mirrored his.

“Oh don’t make me do this.” You cooed. “Did you forget all those times you got drunk and confessed all the bad things you did?” You began listing, “All those times you spilled all your little secrets. About our family businesses, about your allies, the lies and betrayal. The bodies that are buried on this very property. The skeletons in your closet.” You gave him a sick, sweet smile. “Imagine if all that information just magically ends up in the ears of your rivals, dad. Imagine the carnage.”

His smirk disappeared. “You would betray me by siding with them?” He asked in disbelief.

You were getting tired of this. So you lowered your gun and said, “I am one of them.”

You walked out without a single glance back at your father, but you could tell he had his jaws clenched in anger. He hated being outsmarted. But his mistake was underestimating you.

And as for Bucky’s location, well your father gave it away when he said ‘I’ve hidden him well.’

There was only one place he believed you knew nothing about since at the time that he told you about it, he was drunk out of his mind as he confessed more of his crimes: the rundown warehouse which he used as a hideout/storage for weapons and arms.

Your father had always referred to Bucky being a ‘weapon’ so it was only fitting that he would think to hide him there. Thinking no one would find him.

But you would.

As you drove to the warehouse, you hoped that the guards were tracking you as you had instructed them to. Because if Bucky was truly there, there was a high chance that there would be some guards, and that Bucky must be injured. And you’d need help getting him out of there.

Driving to the warehouse, you had silent tears streaming down your face. Not just out of sadness, but also frustration. Fuck, what had your life become?

The warehouse was a disaster, you realised as you approached it. Large, crumbling, windows boarded up with rotting wood, broken machinery scattered around the outside. It looked like it had been abandoned for decades. And it was exactly the type of structure no one would bother to look twice at. The perfect place to hide illegal things, and son-in-laws you hate.

There weren’t as many guards as you expected. Which would mean that Bucky was either chained and locked up like an animal, or that he was injured to the point where he was too weak to fight his way out of here.

Or both.

You shivered as you got out of your car. The few guards who were around noticed you and one of them began walking faster towards you the more you got closer to the entrance.

“Miss, you can’t be here. Your father explicitly said no one is allowed–,”

You scoffed and said, “Oh, I know what he said.” You kept walking. “What will you do? Shoot me?”

“Miss,” He tried again, “I can’t let you–,”

You turned towards him and placed the barrel of Bucky’s gun right under the guard’s chin. “You were saying?”

Then you heard it. A fleet of cars approaching. The guards heard it too. You heard them yelling at one another while the one in front of you remained frozen in place. You smirked at him and said, “Now go play with them.”

You had just enough time to duck and run inside before the gunshots began. You didn’t stop. The interior of the warehouse was just as dilapidated as the outside, and by the sound of it, there were quite some guards on the roof. Their heavy footsteps as they ran to duck and try to escape the bullets raining down on them echoed inside the empty warehouse.

It was fairly easy to spot Bucky. But fuck was it painful to see him that way.

He was chained to the wall, shackles around his wrists and ankles. His body slumped on the ground, his breaths ragged. You could tell he was tired. Perhaps tired of fighting against the chains. You couldn’t hold back your soft sob as you ran to him.

They had left his muzzle-like mask on him, covering the lower half of his face. The leather jacket and gloves he wore were covered in blood and dirt. A lot of blood. You knelt down in front of him and that’s when you noticed the bullet wound on his thigh. It looked fresh.

“Bucky?” You called, reaching a hand to touch his face. He was cold to the touch, but stirred at the sound of your voice. “Bucky, come on. Wake up. Please.” You sniffled and inched closer to him, “I’m here, I’m gonna get us out of here, okay?”

He let out a weak cough. You could barely hear it over the sound of the gunshots outside.

“Bucky,” You tried to get the chains and shackles off of him, “Come on, wake up. We need to go home.” Your own voice cracked as you felt the silent tears streaming down your face as you were unable to get the shackles off. “Please,” You begged.

Then as the gunshots outside faded away, you heard Bucky’s faint voice saying, “Use the gun.”

You turned to face him. “What?”

He spoke again, his voice raspier than usual and sounding muffled due to the mask. “Shoot at the chains.”

Your hands trembled just a little as you reached for the gun you had brought. His gun. And you said, “Okay, don’t move.”

You did. And only missed twice.

Breaking the chains left the shackles still around his wrists and ankles but that could be dealt with later. You were panicking, wondering how you’d get him out of here but the guards barged in just in time. And you let out a sigh of relief when they ran straight to Bucky and carefully picked him up.

As a couple of them managed to get Bucky in the backseat of your car, one of them let you know that there was a doctor and his assistants already waiting at home to tend to Bucky. Another one asked you what to do regarding the warehouse.

“Burn it.” You told him. “I’ll deal with my father later, right now we need to get Bucky home.”

On the drive home, Bucky kept trying to talk. But he was so weak he could barely get full sentences out.

“Weren’t you mad at me?” He asked.

You sniffled and said refused to answer that. Instead you said, “Try not to talk. You’ve been shot, we don’t know how much blood you’ve lost,” You rambled. “Let’s get you to the doctor, okay?”

“S’okay,” He mumbled, “It went through.”

That only hurt more. “Bucky please, you need to save energy, okay? We’re almost home.”

“They… shot me with my own gun.” He refused to keep quiet.

At first you thought his brain was being delirious and making him ramble. Because of the pain, exhaustion, thirst, hunger. But then a weak sound left his mouth. Still muffled by the mask because no one removed it, and it sounded a lot like a very weak, faint laugh.

“Eros got pierced by his own arrow after all.” He mumbled.

You held back a sob. Then muttered, “I hate you so much, Bucky Barnes.”

Another weak laugh. “No, you don’t, wife.”

Then he passed out cold.

—

The next few days which followed Bucky’s rescue went by so fast and so painfully. The medical team kept close watch on him for days. Bucky was in and out of consciousness a lot. All the meds and the exhaustion kept him constantly out cold.

The nurses and the house staff were constantly around him. But for some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to go into his room. Not yet. You’d linger near the door and the doctors and the staff would constantly update you about his condition, but you never went in.

Mainly it was because of shame. At what your father had done to him. But also you were still making peace with and processing your own emotions and you couldn’t face him until you were fully ready. What was important was that he was rescued and safe in his home.

About a week later, the medical team finally left. And promised they would do frequent check ups and told you that Bucky needed a lot of rest.

And that night, you managed to find the courage to finally step inside Bucky’s bedroom. It was a lot like yours, just larger. The room was dark when you walked in. But the open curtains allowed some light in from the outside.

Okay. You spoke to yourself as you approached Bucky’s bed. It’s high time you find out who you married.

Your hands shook a little as you reached for the dim lamp on his bedside table. But you turned it on quickly before you could talk yourself out of it.

The golden light illuminated the room partly, and there he was. A little bruised, with a cut on his lip. His handsome face made you smile and tear up at the same time. You couldn’t hold back from reaching to touch his face softly, carefully. You ran your knuckles along his cheek and whispered, “There you are, ghost.”

He stirred. And soon, a pair of sparkling blue eyes look up at you. For a moment you panicked, wondering if he would be upset. But instead he said, “This is cheating.”

You let out a soft laugh and asked, “How are you feeling? You’ve been asleep for days.”

“I feel like beating your father up.” He mumbled.

“Oh, same.” You agreed. Then added, “I’m so sorry for what he did to you.”

Over the past few days, the guards had gathered what had truly happened the day Bucky went missing. Turns out, he did leave for an assignment but your father and his men had been keeping a close eye on him for days, and since the wedding was supposed to have ended all rivalry, Bucky had his guard down as he entered your father’s territory. And your father had the upper hand for once and took advantage of it. Bucky was cornered, outnumbered and taken. He was kept in that warehouse up until you found him.

“Don’t be,” Bucky whispered, reaching for your hand on your lap. He gave your hand a soft squeeze and said, “You saved me.”

You couldn’t look away from Bucky. It felt so intimate to finally be able to see his face. Then rather sheepishly, you asked, “Can I sleep here? I’ll be careful.” He was still injured and in pain, but you just wanted to be close to him. You needed to.

He smirked, “Come on.” You walked to the other side of the bed and slid under the covers, keeping some distance between you and him. He turned to look at you and said, “Want me to leave the light on?”

You nodded. And he did.

—

A lot changed after that.

Bucky was healing from his injury and was starting to walk again. Which meant that he was home a lot. He did ‘work’ but it mainly consisted of him ordering people around on the phone.

Him being at home meant that he followed you around as much as he physically could. He would spend time in your studio, sometimes he’d stay for hours and watch you finish your pieces. He also spent a lot more time with your dog, taking her on short walks and teaching her new tricks.

He’d stay with you in the kitchen while you baked. He’d go with you whenever you went shopping for supplies. Bucky became your shadow. And consequently, spending this much together made you feel closer than ever to him.

He became your best friend.

He also became a lot more… bold.

—

One night Bucky found you in his bathroom. After that night when you first slept in his bed, you hadn’t gone back to your bedroom. So now, most of your things slowly found their way into his space. Like your night time skin care products.

Bucky crept up behind you and wrapped his arms around you.

You met his eyes through the mirror and gave him a smile. “Your limp is nearly gone.” You announced, noticing the way he walked was so much better now.

He gave you a look which meant nothing but mischief, “And you know what that means?”

You could already tell where this was going. You immediately turned him down. “Bucky, we cannot. You’re still injured.”

“But it’s been weeks.” He said it like it was the ultimate torture. “Don’t you miss those nights we spent together? Hmm?” He whispered, leaning in to kiss your neck. He knew it was one of your weaknesses. “Remember how good it feels when I make you come?”

You sighed, letting him kiss you and hold you for a moment. “Buck… you’re still healing.”

“Come on, baby,” He cooed, nuzzling your neck, “I’ll make it so good. I promise I’ll tell you if it hurts.”

You almost gave in the moment he playfully bit your neck, his hands finding the belt of your robe and shamelessly undoing it before sliding in to touch your warm skin. “But,” You tried to find something even though all you wanted was to drag him to bed, “Your stitches…” Your words ended in a soft moan as his metal fingers found their way in between your legs, circling around your clit.

Bucky growled. Growled. Then said, “Fine, you get to be on top then.”

You froze, and let out a nervous chuckle. “But I…,” You opened your eyes and met his through the mirror. “I–,”

“Shh, it’s okay.” He reassured you, remembering the time you told him you’d never done anything with anyone before. “I know.” He gave you a sweet kiss on the cheek. “I’ll teach you.”

And he did. Patiently.

He took his time in undressing both of you and held your hand in his as he laid down and pulled you on top of him.

“I’m scared I’ll hurt you.” You murmured.

He gave you a reassuring smile. “You won’t, baby. Now come on.”

He watched as you carefully straddled him, settling comfortably around his waist. One hand holding his metal one tightly while the other remained splayed over his chest.

Bucky looked up at you with nothing but adoration and lust as he tugged on your hand, pulling you in for a kiss. You leaned down gently and pressed your mouth to his. His warm hand immediately rubbed up and down your side lovingly. He pulled away just a little and whispered against your mouth, “We’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with, okay?”

You nodded, already breathless.

“Tell me, baby. What do you want?”

You told him the one thing you desperately wanted. “I want to touch you.”

Bucky smirked and supported his upper body up on his elbows, with you still straddling his waist, your core pressing down on his crotch. “Go on then, touch me.” He murmured.

He watched you intently as you reached out and touched his face first. Bucky’s heart was racing, you could tell by the way he breathed, as your finger slowly trailed down his face, along his neck and down till his abs, so slowly that you could feel his muscles tensing underneath your touch.

You gave him a teasing smile when you noticed the effect you have on him, and how he couldn’t help but stare at your naked body.

“Don’t tease me,” He mumbled.

You chuckled and leaned in to give him a brief kiss before hesitantly wrapping your hand around his cock. Part of the reason why you kissed him while doing it was because you were worried about your lack of experience, so you did it to distract him.

But he caught it. And wrapped his own hand around yours, making you grip him tighter. You pulled away from the kiss and looked into his pretty eyes. Bucky was breathing heavily. You let his hand guide you as you gave him an experimental stroke, a gentle up and down movement.

He felt thick and hard, and big. You looked down for a quick minute as you let him continue guiding your hand, lazily stroking his cock, up and down. Your thumb rubbed his tip slowly, making him groan as you looked back up at him and kissed your way down his neck, around the base of his throat, making him gasp in pleasure.

“See?” He whispered, “You’re learning already.” He said as he slowly let go of your hand and let you touch him on your own.

You continued exploring this new feeling. He was completely fine with just being there and letting you take your time. And you did take your time, touching him everywhere you could, stroking him as slowly or as quickly as you wanted to. Until he was so close to the edge, eyes rolled to the back of his head, lips parted and occasional moans escaping his open mouth as pre cum started dripping down his cock.

Oh he was a sight to behold. But you were getting impatient, and you wanted him in you as soon as possible. So you stopped, earning a groan from him.

“I want you,” You said.

Bucky looked like he was barely able to hold back either. “Come on,” He held your hand again, pulled you in for a quick kiss as you straddled him properly. His hand reached down and aligned the tip of his cock to your hole, teasing you with it by sliding it up and down your slit a few times until you were whimpering. “Now sit on it baby come on,” He encouraged you as you began sinking down on him, gasping as his cock stretched you out. “You can do it.” He murmured, breathless as he watched his cock disappear inside you more and more. “That's it. All the way down, come on baby.”

You were a moaning mess by the time you sunk all the way down, impaling yourself down on his cock. Fuck. You had never felt so full before. So fucking full.

“You okay, baby?” He asked, holding you by your hips, moving you back and forth just a little bit to create some friction.

You nodded, moaning at the slight movement.

“Want me to help you move?” He asked, lips parted and he had that wild look in his eyes.

Fuck, he was beautiful.

“Yes, please,” You whined, placing your hands on his chest to brace yourself for what was coming.

He wasted no time. Bucky grabbed you by the hips and helped you move up and down his cock. Your wet warmth wrapped all around him, making him swear under his breath and groan at how good you felt.

You couldn’t look away from his ocean blue eyes while you rocked your hips against his. You moved against him perfectly, your walls gripping him tightly and feeling him twitch inside you.

“Look at you.” He cooed. “Look how well you're taking it.”

You couldn’t help but lean in to kiss his open mouth. He was so perfect. He was everything you had ever dreamt of, you realised.

His metal fingers moved to touch your clit while you rode his cock, teasing you and bringing you closer to that edge. It wouldn’t take much. You were so overwhelmed already.

“Bucky…” You whined, dragging your hands down and pressing both your palms against his toned abdomen, carefully avoiding touching him around his thigh area, where he was shot.

Bucky watched you, your breasts bouncing gently, lips parted, softly gasping as you got so, so close to the edge.

And he knew. So he quickened his pace, still moving you up and down his cock while he rubbed your throbbing clit.

“Baby, I’m gonna need you to come for me, okay?” His voice was low, barely even a whisper. His desperation was quite clear. He began to thrust his hips up even harder, matching your movements.

The air around you got hotter, and that look in his eyes made you want to live in this moment forever. Bucky was the most beautiful mess you’d ever seen. A sweaty, moaning mess under you, messy hair, swollen lips, and a throbbing cock.

You were sure you looked like a mess too as you felt your walls clench around him, gripping him and milking him perfectly.

“Come for me,” He whispered, “Come on, baby.”

You came without a warning, crying out loud and impaling yourself down on him one last time as you did. Bucky thrust up into you one last time and came undone as well, both of you breathing hard and fast.

You carefully got up from his lap and laid down beside him, body limp and slightly sore in between your legs.

You were still catching your breath as you asked, “Did I hurt you?” You sounded just as worried as you were.

Bucky chuckled. “I should be the one asking you that.”

You smiled and snuggled into his side, he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer.

“I’m fine, baby.” He said and kissed your forehead.

You both laid there in silence for a while.

Cuddling and relishing each other’s warmth, caressing each other’s skin.

You felt his fingers drawing random shapes on your back as you laid your head on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeats against your cheek. You felt the need to ask him, “Why were you so against showing yourself to me?”

He gave you a soft chuckle. “You just can’t let that go, huh?”

“Nope.”

He sighed, pulling you closer. “I was… afraid.”

You frowned. “Afraid of what?” You pulled away and looked up at him. “Why did you hide this pretty face from me?” You gave him a quick kiss on his chest as you waited for his answer.

He sighed again. “Everywhere I go, I… whenever people see me up close, it’s already too late. They don’t see a human anymore, they see death staring back at them.” He paused. You remained quiet. He continued. “I see it, you know? In their eyes. When they look at me and plead, or beg, or curse me.” A humourless laugh, then, “After some years of that, I began seeing it in the mirror as well. I saw the same thing they see. After years of brutality, and killing, and spilling blood,” A soft chuckle, “Years of being an evil Eros as you call it, I grew to hate my face.”

You felt tears forming at your waterline but you couldn’t look away from him. Not when he was being so brave and vulnerable.

He continued. “And then before our wedding, I looked you up.” He confessed, a little embarrassed. “And you were so beautiful.” He looked you right in the eyes and repeated, “You are so beautiful. I guess, I didn’t want you to look at me and see death, and ugly and all the other dark stuff. I didn’t want to see that look in your eyes, the same one I see in everyone. That look of fear and disgust.” He finally admitted, “So I thought, I’d just hide and be a ghost.”

“My ghost.” You corrected him, reaching out to cup his chin in your palm. “And I’m gonna need you to never stop haunting me.” You said, leaning in to leave a soft kiss on his lips. “I want you to always be in the shadows. Be with me, even in the dark.” You gave him a smile. “I look at you now and you know what I see? I see a man who treated me with respect. A man who wouldn’t touch me unless I asked for it. A man who gave me so much space for my creativity.” A faint smile, then you added, “You made me fall in love with art all over again, and now everything I paint, I paint with you in my mind.”

He gave you a smile which both broke and mended your heart.

“Oh Buck,” You cupped his gorgeous face with both hands and said, “You’re not death, or scary, or any other dark shit. You’re mine, and I love you.”

He pulled you in for a kiss so quickly you barely processed it. “And I love you.”

You giggled into the kiss and only pulled away when you were breathless. You kissed your way down his chin and nuzzled his neck, sighing in delight.

Bucky said, “I think I should retire.”

“Hmm,” You asked, “And what would you do in retirement?”

“Watch you paint, raise our dog, adopt some more animals, attend your art exhibitions, and eventually make some babies with you.” He listed it all so easily.

“Sounds like a plan.” You agreed.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #mob!bucky #marvel

3K notes · View notes

moneypowerglorymiddleofmiami · 9 months ago

Text

— trickentine જ⁀➴♡ ︎

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader

summary: when eros, the god of love, makes the annual valentine visit to camp half-blood, he conveniently unintentionally leaves his bow and arrow in the capable hands of his younger half-sister.

warnings: nothing i think, except for like one curse word (pls do tell me if i miss any though!)

genre: ...romcom?

part 2

─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───

The gods were many things: powerful at their core, benevolent to those who merit it, temperamental when goaded, and mysterious in their methods— but there was one trait that defined them most of all, incandescently littered in their tales and lores: they were tricksters.

You really should’ve known better than to pick up that stray quiver of arrows.

─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───

The Aphrodite Cabin consistently made it a point to celebrate Valentine’s Day with much fanfare. Everyone has been busy the entire week preceding it; there were fresh roses to harvest, pink and red deserts to be made, hundreds of paper hearts to be cut, ribbons to be tied and acres to decorate. As one of the older siblings, a huge chunk of the responsibility fell on your shoulders. Needless to say, you spent an entire extra hour in the bathroom trying to put your concealer to good use.

A mere 10 minutes after leaving your cabin on V-Day, you’d managed to snap and glare at nearly everyone who even thought of intercepting your path.

Nearly everyone because you knew better than to direct your ire at the god of love.

“You didn’t even blend.” Eros said, perusing your make-up judgmentally. “Consider your favorite demigod sister card revoked.”

In his current human form, his hair was a deep shade of black and coiffed to perfection, his eyes a brown hue that you could only describe as melodramatic, and his skin beautifully tanned from frolicking in the sunlight.

Gods, how you missed to frolick in the sunlight. These days, you had to slave in it.

“Lord Eros.” You bowed, desperately fighting the urge to roll your eyes and purse your lips.

“I adore what you’ve done with the place.” He waved his hand off dismissively. He trudges ahead of you, officially beginning his annual Valentine inspection. “Although I definitely think it could use a little more sparkle. Perhaps a little more pink, too.”

‘Pink? For Valentines? Groundbreaking.’ You drawled inside your head. “The Hephaestus cabin is tinkering with a smoke machine to make it emit glitter.”

“Wonderful.” He replied passively, his attention drawn towards the dining pavilion where hundreds of glowing hearts hung from mid-air. Eros turned towards you. “Fairy lights on the beams?”

“On it.” You nodded your head tiredly, scribbling messily onto a notepad. “Anything else?”

“Everything’s perfect, except…” He trailed off before raising an eyebrow at you. “Find yourself a boyfriend, maybe? You need to loosen up.”

“Oh my gods,” You muttered under your breath, fighting the urge to physically recoil.

─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you slacking off on training.” Luke chastised with a tut, tugging your arm towards the training areas. Your feet were basically dragging against the dirt, soiling your sneakers and flicking particles of dust against your skirt, but you couldn’t care less.

“Luke, look around you. What do you see?” You asked, your tone too saccharine to be considered serious.

He decided to humor you anyway. “Hearts.”

“10 points to House Hermes. Now,” You leaned in conspiratorially, “Who do you think set this whole place up?”

Luke barely opened his mouth before you answered your own question.

“Me.” You jabbed a finger against your chest. You narrowed your eyes at him. “I set this whole place up. I planned it— the theme, the color scheme, the glitter, the ribbons, the dazzling pink fountain with mini-Cupids who sing at the hour!”

“It looks very pretty!” He said, panicked.

“Yes, I know it looks very pretty.” You kissed your teeth. “Don’t you think I deserve a little break because it looks very pretty?”

He shook his head.

“You are insufferable!” You groaned.

“Hey! In my defense,” He raised both of his arms in the air to plead innocence, “You’re the one who said you wanted to develop a skill by the end of the summer."

His voice was pitched higher by the end in a poor imitation of your’s. You scrunched your nose in distaste.

“Gods, why do I keep digging my own grave?” You mumbled. Luke shook his head in amusement.

He led you into the clearing of the archery field, a line of circle targets dotted around the edge of the forest. A quiver of arrows was hung against the branches, different from the ones in the armory but definitely familiar to you.

“You can use those. Guess one of the kids forgot to return them after practice.” He shrugged. Luke mustn’t have noticed the difference.

You reached up to grab the weapons, still incredulous but definitely not alarmed enough to hesitate. The material thrummed in your hands.

“Go shoot.” He grinned.

“Very helpful instructions.” You muttered.

“Well, it’s pretty straightforward, sweetheart.” He sauntered over to one of the targets, leaning against the wooden frame. “You’ve been taught the basics, you just need the application. Now, shoot.”

“I could literally hit you.” You said blankly as you mounted the arrow against your bow.

“Consider it your challenge to not hit me.” He raised a thumbs-up.

“You’re insane.” You responded, irked and stressed by his casualness. “I’m sleep-deprived!"

Again, Luke just shrugged his shoulders. You huff, but then follow his lead anyway. You close one eye as you raise your weapon to your line of vision, zeroing in on the target.

As soon as the arrow flicked away from your fingers, it changed its course. When it should’ve followed a curved arch towards the red target, it whizzed away and made a beeline straight for Luke. A pink trail of haze followed its path.

“Duck!” You yell.

The arrow pierced through his chest at nearly the same time Luke’s body collided with the ground.

“That’s where those went.” Eros snapped his fingers as he emerged behind you. His glinting eyes were looking intently at the bow and quiver on you, an imperciptible smile on his face.

Your eyes widened in surprise. Shit.

“Lord Eros! I sincerely apologize.” You immediately took off the weaponry, holding them in your hands then kneeling as if to offer them back. You definitely did not want a god to be at odds with you. The two of you might have the same mother, but that didn’t mean you were equal in Aphrodite’s eyes. “I wasn’t-”

“Nah, don’t worry about it, sis.” He said, tapping your shoulder. Was he actually consoling you? “I shouldn’t have left it out in the open anyways.”

He pulled you up by the arm gently, snapping his fingers and getting the remnants of grass off of your knees. He even picked off a stray leaf from your hair. What in Tartarus was this?

For as long as you’ve known Eros and he’s practically coerced you into a dysfunctional sibling relationship, this was the kindest thing he’s ever done. Yes, the bar was low.

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

“You didn’t use this on someone, did you?” Eros asked, cradling the quiver and bow against him like a child.

“I think I managed to hit Luke—”

“You didn’t!” He interrupted with a theatrical gasp, a hand covering his mouth. He was such a drama queen.

You narrowed your eyes. He planned this, didn't he?

He smirked wider when he noticed the change in your demeanor, the realization behind your gaze. You swore his pupils changed to hearts for a moment.

“Good luck with lover boy, little sis.” He turned around, showing you the back of his hand as he waved goodbye.

#luke castellan imagine #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #pjo tv show #pjo series #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy series

2K notes · View notes

andersonfilms · 10 months ago

Text

❝ SUB!ABBY ❞ ✶ ABBY ANDERSON !

★⠀warning y disclaimers — eighteen+, fem!reader, wlw sex, poc!friendly, sub!abby, cheatin (on owen), dirty talk, abby gets fucked, strap (abby!r), hair pulling.

“you have to be quiet, baby. not unless you want owen to hear? okay?” your hands run over the fat of her butt, guiding her as she rides your strap, the cocked wedged deep within her, nearly causing her to see stars. “hmmm, you know maybe it isn’t such a bad idea for him to hear you.”

you never would have pegged her to be the type for pierced nipples, silver barbell with steel balls accentuating the sensitive bud, a reddish hue due to all your teasing. the small tattoo by her pretty pussy nearly sending you into a downward spiral. all of it combined had you crumbling to your knees, desperate to make her come.

it’s why you’d eaten her out the first time you’d ever been alone with her, the second time you fingered her in a dirty frat bathroom with the sight of sweet cunt as her slick drenched your hand, soaking you in her a nectar you thought would only visit you in your dreams. now, eros gifted you with her another time and you had prepared for this. strap tucked safely in your pants because abby would be here. owen was stupid enough to let her be around you, alone. now, the next time he couldn’t make her cum, she’d think of you.

your cock would never leave her mind, you wouldn’t let it.

abby took a look in the mirror again; the one you demanded to fuck in front it. the tension she held in her shoulders was evident when you suggested it but the beefcake in front of you just needs a little coaxing and you’d happily provide it for her — just like you always did.

“you like riding my cock? you look so beautiful, most gorgeous girl in the world.” your loving words make abby clench our your girth, bouncing on your cock. “tell me baby. c’mon. wanna hear how much you like it.”

abby just nods hoping it’s enough but it’s not.

you smack her ass harshly causing abby to whimper as buck her hips, causing a small bounce and the friction on your clit from the harness is delicious. baby, blue eyes are so wide but she knows better than to stop her pace. as a peace offering she goes faster before she’s attempting to speak.

she can’t voice it, not really. she’s scared of how much she loves it, how every time with owen, or any other man, never felt like this. you don’t pressure anymore, not when there’s only pure concentration laced on her face, furrowed blonde eyebrows as she bounces on your cock. soft, muscular thighs trembling intensely.

“how….how do you make me feel this good?” abby questions as she leans forward, resting her sweaty forehead against yours. you take it as in opportunity to hammer into her. planting your feet, before meeting her thrusts and you feel her back twitch as she whimpers pathetically in your ear, her breathing heavy as she takes it.

the eight inch pink dildo with the thick girth is double what she’s used to, maybe more, and it doesn’t help your filling every inch of her.

in a tight grip, you tug on her braid causing abby to lose it.

“oh, did you like when i pull on your braid, pretty girl?” abby whines when you pull harder, her clit throbbing, the pit in her stomach beginning to fill. she’s bucking her hips like a whole animal, meeting your powerful thrusts, neither of you hear the heavy footsteps approaching.

“yeah, please don’t stop. i’m almost there. fuck, i-i’m going to cum.” the moment she does its a dream come true for you. owen opens the door but abby is too fucked out, caught up in the wave of the earth shattering orgasm she’s riding, her body twitching as she whimpers into your neck.

he looks like he could kill you and if he does, it may be worth it but you decide now is the time to test your luck. the lame excuse of a man always parades abby in your face just because he knows how you feel for her. now you’re going to make him pay for it.

he’s stands there silently with rage as you smack her ass, looking him straight in the eyes as you do so. desperately, abby moans your name as you start to fuck her again. she sits up, but she’s still angled in a way she can’t see owen who looks like he can’t fucking move watching his girlfriend get fucked by the friend he was told to never worry about.

“c’mon angel, bounce on my cock, again. wanna see you squirt for me.” this time abby’s pace is brutal, her beefy body losing control as you make her drunk on your dick. “now tell me what i wanna hear. you know what to say, angel.”

“yeah? want me to say it?” you nod as her weight drops on you every few seconds, nearly causing you to cum in the process.

“you fuck me better than anyone, baby.” owen angrily stomps away causing abby to turn anxiously, realizing whose been behind her this entire time. the look of horror written all over her face, but then you flip her over, pushing her against the furry gray rug.

“thank you for being such a good girl. now, let me fuck my sweet girl’s brains out, yeah?”

#sub!abby rights!#gotta love a good voyerisum #taking a dip in the comphet abby pool #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x masc reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x you #abby anderson tlou2 #abby the last of us #abby x reader #sub!abby anderson #sub abby anderson

1K notes · View notes

thealtoduck · 1 year ago

Text

Sweet Juice

Clark Kent x Male Reader

Content: Greek Mythology AU

Warnings: Smut, Bottom!Reader, Top!Clark, semi-public sex, anal sex, unprotected sex, drunken sex, skinny dipping, spit as lube, missionary position…

Summary: You’re a member of Dionysus following and during a feast you meet a demigod son of Zeus, Clark, also known as the man of steel…

——

You were a lesser deity in a world filled with powerful gods, monsters and heroes. You were the son of the now famous naiad, Daphne. Unfortunately though your mother was no longer with you as she had been turned in to a laurel tree as a form of mercy.

It was considered mercy because the only other option she had was to be violated by Apollo, who was under the spell of Eros after an argument between the two. Apollo feeling bad about the whole ordeal apologised by finding you a place in the retinue of Dionysus and Ariadne.

You didn’t mind this as your duties were pretty much drink, dance, fuck, drink more and generally just to have a good time. It was just constant partying and celebration.

One night when the party had yet to start a visitor came for Dionysus. You were sat close to the god’s throne, you were petting one of his pet leopards when a strange man appeared and entered the god’s camp. He walked slowly towards the olympian. You noted his handsome appearance as he stopped in front of Dionysus.

”Lord Dionysus, you sent for me” the man said in a deep tone. ”I did” Dionysus confirmed before standing up saying loudly ”Everyone! Let me introduce to you to Clark, you may know him as the man of steel!… And also one of my younger half brothers”.

Dionysus followers broke out in cheers for the hero, who seemed slightly confused by the big welcoming. ”I’ve called him here to save us all from the cyclops that has been attacking in the night” Dionysus declared and everyone once again cheered.

”What?! You never told me of any cyclops?!” Clark asked agitated. ”Actually I didn’t tell you anything but you showed up anyway” Dionysus teased him. ”Why don’t you save them yourself?” Clark questioned. However Dionysus only responded with a simple ”Where’s the fun in that?”.

Clark looked irretated at Dionysus and said ”I will not be tricked in to fighting someone else’s battle”. Making the on looking crowd let out disappointed murmurs. Dionysus walked up to the hero and put a hand on his shoulder.

”Come on Clark, do us this favour and we’ll give you the biggest celebration you’ll experince in a life time, with the finest wine and feast, our best music and dancers and if you want you can take to bed anyone you fancy, we don’t judge” Dionysus offered.

Clark took a moment looking around at the crowd surrounding him until his eyes landed on you for a swift moment. He then turned back to Dionysus and said ”Very well, i shall do you this favour”. Once again the crowd including you broke out in cheers and applause for the demigod.

The very next day gifted Clark with a sword, armour and food by Dionysus as he and his followers saw off the hero on his way to save them from the threat of the cyclops.

I didn’t take long for Clark to return as he was back at the camp by next day. He came back in the afternoon covered from head to toe in dirt, dust and a little cyclops blood. Throwing the red painted sword by Dionysus feet.

”Well done” Dionysus complimented looking at the blood drenched sword. Dionysus then turned towards you ”Y/n, take our hero somewhere he can wash off” he commanded. ”Yes, lord Dionysus” you said with a quick bow. He then turned back to Clark and said ”When you return, we feast”.

You went and collected a basket with a bottle of scented oil, a strigil (a tool they used in ancient greece to wash themselves) and a new chiton. ”This way, my lord” you said to Clark and started guiding him through the forest. ”Please, just Clark is fine” he said humbly following you.

You guided him to a secluded pond. ”Impressive, how did you find this place so quickly?” Clark complimented. ”My mother was a naiad, it’s an instinct” you explained putting down the basket next to the pond.

”Would you like me to bring you anything else?” you asked Clark as he started undressing out of the dented armour and dirty chiton. ”You’ve already done enough for me, thank you” he said gentlemanly. Clark was now naked, revealing his muscled body and impressive manhood, which you tried not to look at.

He stepped down in the pond, the water reaching up to his hips. ”Why don’t you join me?” he suggested gesturing towards the water. ”I’d love too, but i have to help the others prepare everything for tonight” you said. ”Come on, only for a short time” Clark tempted. ”Okay” you said with a smile, taking off your chiton and sandals.

Clark watched your naked form with interest as you stepped down in to the water. ”See, it’s nice” Clark said starting to wash himself off using the scented oil you brought for him. You tried not to stare at his oiled up chest but you were 90% sure he caught you looking but he didn’t say anything, he only smirked.

You relaxed in the cool water for a while until you remembered you needed to get back to the others. You climbed out of the pond and started putting on your clothing once again. ”Thanks for the company, hope i’ll see you tonight” Clark said. ”Hope, i’ll see you too” you said and started walking through the forest back towards camp.

That night the music rang loudly through the forest as you celebrated the death of cyclops and your new hero, Clark. You drank and danced wildly with your friends. Some others were already passed out from drinking, some were gambling and playing games and one couple were fucking against a tree.

You saw Clark sitting on a pillow next to Dionysus talking, goblet in hand. You made your way over to the olympian and the demigod. ”Y/n” Dionysus exclaimed happily as he noted your presence. He patted a pillow next to him saying ”Come sit down”.

You took the offer sitting down next to the god, he made your empty goblet instantly refill and put an arm around you. ”I was just telling Clark of my inner circle” Dionysus revealed and continued ”Y/n, here you’ve met, he is my and Ariandne’s favourite attendant and friend” he said sweetly.

”Also he has a body as if sculpted by Pygmalion, carved and smoothed to absolute perfection. You should hope to have a look upon it someday” Dionysus said taking another sip from his goblet.

”Actually i already have” Clark stated boldly making Dionysus spill some wine on himself. ”Y/n, joined me for a swim in the pond” Clark explained making your cheeks heat up slightly. ”Is that so?” Dionysus questioned looking towards you.

”Well, i’ve got to go find Ariadne” Dionysus said getting up leaving you and Clark. ”Are you and Dionysus-?” Clark started but you cut him off saying ”No, he and Ariadne just have a very open relationship”. ”How has your night been?” you then questioned the hero.

”Enjoyable but i’ve never been much of a party person” he said then taking a sip from his cup. ”I get it, before i came here i wasn’t either” you told him and then got an idea. ”Wanna go for a walk for some peace and quiet?” you asked. ”Sure, i’d love too” Clark said and the two of you stood up and walked off in to the forest behind you bringing your goblets with you.

You walked and talked for a while, drinking until your goblets were didn’t have a single drop left in them. Dionysus must’ve brought out the strong stuff because you and Clark were stumbling around and slurring your speech, you were laughing loudly at each others stories, sitting very close together.

Finally the two of you ended up behind some bushes close by to the party. You started to passionately make out, you laying on your back in the soft grass and Clark on top of you. Clark tore open your chiton and undressed you, leaving your naked form beneath him.

He then took off his own clothes revealing his muscular body and his hard cock. Clark took his hand and brought it to your mouth, you sucked on his fingers to get them wet, then he brought his moist fingers to your enterance and started pushing finger inside you.

You let out a small gasp as Clark started to finger you open, he added another fiinger and then another until you were ready to take him. Clark spit in to his hand and rubbed it over his erect manhood.

”It’s time i claim my reward” Clark said spreading your legs, he lined himself up with you and started pushing his hard cock in to your warmth. Clark loved the seeing the face you made as his cock slowly filled you up.

”Fuck your so big” you hissed as the demigod was fully sheated deep inside you. He then slowy started moving pushing himself in and out of you as a wave of pleasure started washing over you.

Your legs were wrapped around Clark as he thrusted in to you. ”I’m gonna fuck your little nymph hole full with my seed” Clark groaned in to your ear and placed kisses all along your neck. The demigod started speeding up his thrusts.

”Clark, fuck yeah! Take me” you said in ecstasy grabbing at his back as he fucked your hole. Both of your bodies had started gleaming from sweat as he mounted you under the moonlight, as his reward for defeating the cyclops.

Clark’s thrusts became rougher as he wanted to take you like a real demigod would, he loved how your walls clenched around his thick cock. He brutally fucked you with all the strength of his godly heritage to bring you to your release.

You let out breathy moans as Clark pounded your gaping hole, thrusting against your prostate. You felt yourself getting close to your orgasm. You dug your nails in to the grass below as Clark’s cock made you see Mount Olympus.

”Clark, i’m gonna cum” you said panting heavily making Clark thrust deeper as he wanted to push you over the edge. Then your cock started spraying cum all over your and Clark’s stomachs. Clark’s own release was getting close.

”I’m gonna plant my seed deep inside you” Clark moaned and his rough thrusts became uneven and sloppy. Clark delivered one last deep stroke in to you and he erupted inside you, he flooding your insides with his cum.

Both of you panted heavily and Clark rolled over and layed next to you in the grass. ”You were amazing” Clark praised while softly stroking your cheek. The two of you then used your torn clothes as blankets as you cuddled close together and you both fell asleep under the starry sky.

#clark kent x male reader #clark kent x male!reader #superman x male reader #superman x male!reader #dc comics x male reader #dc x male reader #x male reader #male reader #x male!reader #justice league x male reader #clark kent x male reader smut #male reader smut #x male reader smut

1K notes · View notes

portgasdwrld · 1 year ago

Text

📂Op men + sitting on their lap.

Featuring: Zoro & Ace, GN!reader

Warning: Suggestive, established relationship

Note: I got carried away😭

Zoro

The bar you walked in was crowded with people and your eyes searched for the figures of your crew and your grumpy boyfriend. You had left to verify something on the ship, but as you expected the crowded bar had little place now for you to sit and enjoy the night too.

You walked around and found your green haired man chatting with the crew and drinking down a bottle of sake. You stopped behind him and softly flicked the back of his head earning a groan from him as he slightly turned in your direction.

-Oh you’re back, I was almost gonna go after you.

He said with a light smile. You smiled back and rolled your eyes at him.

-Yeah sure and you would’ve gotten lost the moment you would’ve stepped outside of this place.

-I’m not that bad with direction.

-Yes you are that bad, that’s not even out to debate.

Nami retorted in your défense with an annoyed look.

-Agree.

Sanji followed after exhaling a cloud of smoke.

-How about you stay out of this ero-cook?

Zoro growled as he leaned his body over the table and gave Sanji an annoyed glare.

-He’s right though baby.

You chuckled as you put your hands on his shoulders to calm his tension.

-Oi, Y/n !

Luffy screamed out your name in excitement in between two bites. You looked over your captain and furrowed your eyebrows waiting for him to say something.

-Why are you standing up? Everyone else is sat!

-Oh, well the bar is pretty packed. There isn’t any chair left…

-it’s okay, come sit on my lap.

-huh?!

You replied shocked. Zoro was never the type to introduce PDA and you were sure it wasn’t the alcohol that was affecting him. Your heart fluttered at the idea of him growing comfortable enough with you and your relationship to be more affectionate with you in public. It was a small gesture but coming from him, you felt warm just at the idea of sitting on his lap.

He didn’t let you have much time to think about it as he took your hand and pulled your body near him to grab your waist and dragged you on his lap. You blushed as you looked up at him and he simply smirked back. You looked away a bit shy and fixed your position on his lap, making sure it wouldn’t be uncomfortable for him.

-Since when do you have the courage like this to pull me into your laps in public, you teased him under your breath so only he could hear.

He emptied what was left in his bottle and looked back at you.

-Was I supposed to let my pretty lover stood up, wouldn’t be very manly of me.

-Yeah it wouldn’t be..

You nodded as you stole a bite of his food while ignoring how his nickname gave you butterflies. He shifted slightly under you to grab another bottle on the table, pressing his large chest on your arm. His hot breath brushing your neck and a secretive low grunt leaving his lips.

You didn’t know if it was because it has been a moment since you two had sex or if your hormones were simply higher that night, but you felt your body getting hot. You grabbed a glass of water on the table and changed your position to face the table. His hands immediately grabbed your hips and he pushed them forward.

-Are you trying to make my dick hard or what. Don’t move like that without telling me, he said annoyed.

As much as his actions were turning you on, the idea of making him hard and then have him fuck you stupid, didn’t even cross your mind…well until he directly asked you.

You looked over your shoulder with now a mischievous look and smiled at him.

-I wasn’t, but now the idea doesn’t sound so bad.

-Y/n…

-What~ little fun won’t kill you.

You said while pushing your hips a little bit against his bulge. You tried to be as discreet as you could be, but Usopp was catching up on what was happening and was giving you two a dirty glare.

Zoro wasn’t going to fold so easily so he just pushed your body to sit on only one of his lap.

-Now, be good and I will see what I can do for you later.

If only he knew he was in for a long night.

Ace

You sigh as you knock on the door of the infamous commander who stole your heart. You barely saw him all day as a mission was approaching and he was looking through everything, making sure the plan would go well.

He quickly showed up at dinner to grab his food, gave you a kiss on your forehead and ran to meet White-beard who had asked for him and few others commanders. You knew it wasn’t his type to barely eat, so you decided to check up on him and grab some food for him before the kitchen closes.

-Who is it ?

You hear his muffled voice filled with exhaustion.

-It’s me, I brought you some food.

-Come in

You open the door and see your boyfriend’s face lying on top of a pile of papers, tired eyes and a weak smile.

-My saver is here, he speaks in a small voice as he sees the big bag of food you brought. You chuckle as you walk closer to him and pat his dark wavy hair.

-I was worried seeing you barely eat today.

-Im so exhausted, It’s like my brain is going to explode from all the information pops has been feeding me.

-He trusts you with those, so I imagine it’s a blessing and a curse at the same time.

-Yeah, but Marco has been helping me a lot, along with the others, so we are making it a little lighter for each other, he says with a tired chuckle as he pulls your body into his laps. He tucks his head in the crook of your neck and let a tired sigh as he closes his eyes.

-Finish your work quickly so you can go to sleep. You are about to fall unconscious on those papers, you whisper softly as you caress his hair.

-Mmmm don’t want toooo, he mumbles childishly against your neck making you giggle.

-Aceee, quickest you finish, quickest you’re free , my love.

He leans back into his chair and stares right into your eyes. They glitter as he looks at you, giving away that he’s planning something.

-I will if you keep me company, he retorts with a huge grin.

You furrow your eyebrows and nod, not seeing anything wrong with it. You haven’t spent much time with him anyway, so that seemed like a good idea. You are about to stand up to go lay on his bed, when his large arms firmly keep you in place.

-But you have to stay on my laps. I want you close to me.

-Ace, you know you’re not gonna get any work done with me on your laps.

-Why not

-Because we both know how that ended up last time, you roll your eyes and squint them at him as you put your hands on his chest to free yourself. He softly put them away and leave a quick kiss on your lips.

-Maybe that’s the type of work I wanna do, he replies with a smirk.

-Suddenly, you don’t seem so tired.

You tease him with a smile while wrapping your arms around his neck. You gently press your lips against his and you feel his warm hands grip your hips as he kisses you back. You pull away to catch your breath and watch his eyes stare at you with nothing but lust.

-Oh shit, the food! you suddenly remember.

-It’s gonna be our aftercare snack, he announces as he picks you up and put you on his bed.

Yeah, he passed out right after y’all were done :/

He ate the food though when he woke up in the morning :D

#one piece #portgas d ace #portgas ace x you #portgas ace smut #ace one piece #one piece x y/n #one piece x reader #roanoa zoro #zoro imagine #zoro fluff #zoro smut #zoro headcanons #one piece zoro

3K notes · View notes

jazzyoranges · 1 year ago

Text

Save a horse, ride a cowboy

Tara Carpenter x fem!reader (r is also implied to be more masculine-leaning)

Summary: Tara rides you 🤷‍♀️ no Ghostface au

Words: 3.5k

A/n: the card game they play is called “do or drink” so if you don’t understand the rules here, search it up and it’ll probably make more sense

Warnings: G!P reader, explicit sex, unprotected sex (you pull out dw), blowjob, face fucking, Tara lowkey has a size kink, R has a praise kink lol, service top!R, power bottom!T (i think? idk positions that well)

MINORS DNI!!

Tara didn’t really feel like being at this party. Unfortunately for her, she was a victim of peer pressure by Mindy. The twin said something about “getting laid” and how Tara needed to “get some”, but in all honesty, she wasn’t actually listening

The party she was at was cowboy/southern-themed, and Tara opted to wear some plaid and a white crop top. Chad went fully cowboy, through. Tara said he looked like a dork, but his eyes were set on looking like someone from Red Dead Redemption. The brunette didn’t know how he did it, but Chad didn’t even look half bad. Tara swears he has a superpower at looking stupid and not stupid at the same time

Mindy on the other hand, did the least. The twin adorned a black shirt and a brown leather jacket with southern-ish accessories

Chad didn’t bother knocking or ringing the bell over the loud music, and he let himself, Mindy, and Tara into the house. There was a familiar smell in the house. Weed and alcohol absolutely flamed her nostrils, and she scrunched up her nose. When Tara’s eyes landed on you, she swore you were a goddess straight from Texas heaven

“Mindy.”

“I see her, Tara”

“Mindy.”

“No straight woman wears a wife beater. You’re in the clear”

In Tara’s favor, Chad yelled your name and waved you over

“Mindy, Tara, this is Y/N! She coached me back in Woodsboro. She’s also from Texas, so i invited her to show up all the fake cowboys like me” The football player slung an arm around your shoulder, and you held out your hand for the two girls to shake

“Nice to meet you two” Your accent was practically nonexistent, but certain words have you away. When your hand meets Tara’s, yours engulfs hers and she swears she can feel her heart beating in her throat

“Chad speaks well of y’all”

“Really? I’m surprised” Mindy laughs, but Tara is too busy sweating over you to engage in conversation

“I’m gonna introduce Y/N to the rest of our friend group, i’ll see you two around!”

“Have a good night, you two” You tip your hat with a wink, and follow after Chad

“So, wanna explain?” Mindy sends a knowing glance at Tara, a small smirk on her face

“Absolutely not.” The shorter girl makes her way into the kitchen, pouring herself a solo cup of whatever alcohol she can find. Tara chooses to ignore the burning sensation down her throat

“Nope, you’re going to talk right now. I didn’t even know you were into women like her”

“Neither did i, that’s the problem” Tara groans, covering her face with her hands

“What’s the plan?”

“There is no plan, Mindy. I don’t even know how to get close to her…” Eros or Aphrodite must’ve been listening real close because not a second later, she sees you being dragged around by Chad, rounding up a few people to play a drinking card game

“Tara! Mindy! Play drinking games with us? Ethan, Quinn, Y/N, Amber, Wes, Anika, Liv, a few other people and i are playing”

Mindy nods, and they follow you two to the living room, where all the aforementioned people were sitting. Some on the couch and some on the floor. You took your spot on the floor with Chad on your left, and Quinn on your right on the couch.

Chad clears his throat, and all eyes are on him. “Alright! Rules are simple. Everyone has to draw a white card, and do what it says. If you get a white card that says ‘Draw’, you have to get a black card and either do what it says, or drink however much it tells you. Make sense?”

The group nods, and small discussions are made between people. Tara is seated between Mindy, who’s talking to Anika, and Ethan, who’s talking to Chad

“Since i’m the one that wanted to play, i will graciously go first” Chad pulls his white card, and his face lights up. “War! Challenge another player to an arm wrestle. The loser must drink”

The twin gets up, and he points straight at your forehead. “Y/N! This cowboy challenges you in a duel of our arms!”

“How could i say no. I agree to your challenge, my good sir” You shake hands, and make your way to the coffee table in the middle of the room. Tara is on your right, and you give her a perfect view of your bicep

“You look nervous, Chad. Are you afraid?”

“You can’t teach an old dog new tricks. Therefore, the student always wins” he smiles at you, and your competitive side starts to bubble up

“When i win, i’ll make sure to spoon feed you your own words” readjusting your grip on Chad’s hand, Ethan makes his way over to be the referee

“Three…”

Tara notices your concentrated face, and how you bite your lip in anticipation

“Two…”

You adjust your grip once again, and Tara wonders what else your hands can do

“One!” Ethan lets go of yours and Chad’s attached hands, and they both stay in place. Tara can tell you two were pretty evenly matched

“C’mon, Y/N! Gag him!” Mindy cheers for you

“Don’t listen to her, babe. You got this!” Liv cheers for Chad

“Show him up, Y/N! You’ve got it” Tara cheers with a smile on her face, and you momentarily stop pushing before you catch yourself

“What’s the matter, Y/N? Losing already?”

“We’ll see” When you hear Tara say your name again, a new urge to win rushes through your body. In one swift motion, Chad’s hand meets the table, and those who were supporting you cheer

“What did you say about the student always winning?” You say with a wide grin on your face, and you kiss your arm in a show of ego

“That was a fluke! I want a rematch!” The twin says playfully

“Like you wouldn’t just lose again”

“Whatever, it’s your turn to draw”

You pick up a card, and you laugh to yourself. “Vote! On the count of three, everyone points to the person they think has had sex in the most interesting spot. The player with the most votes must confess their sex spot and take a drink”

“Alright! Three, two, one!” You count down, and mostly everyone is mostly pointing at Quinn

“Geez, what do you guys think of me?” She takes a sip of her drink. “And my most interesting spot was under the bleachers during his football practice”

This goes on until it’s Tara’s turn. Amber got an “All brunettes must drink” card, Anika got to be Simon in Simon Says (which Tara had to drink for losing first), and Mindy drew a card that made all of the single people drink. Luckily for Tara, you drank when Mindy pulled her card

“Your turn, Tara! What’ll you get?” Chad quickly made himself the keeper of cards, sitting in the middle as you sat on the couch in his place. Tara leans over, and she takes a card from Chad. Revealing her card, she see’s it says to draw

“Our very first ‘Draw’ card! I wonder what it’ll be” Chad grins, and Tara pulls a black card from the deck

“Spin a bottle. Whoever it lands on, sit on their lap for the next 2 rounds or both must drink four times”

Oohs are exchanged throughout the group, and Tara rolls her eyes in embarrassment. Less than a second later, Chad hands Tara an empty beer bottle. The twin takes his spot somewhere in the circle, and the brunette spins the bottle

“I’ll pray it lands on her” Mindy playfully nudges her shoulder, and Tara blushes. Neither of you knew it, but both you and the brunette hoped the bottle ended up pointing at you. It went around once, twice, three times

Slowly passing by the person to your right, the bottle points straight at you and you swear time stops for a second. Tara meets your eyes, and you swear she’s blushing when Mindy shoves her towards you

Tara awkwardly sits on your lap, moving to find a comfortable spot

You place a reassuring hand on her hip. “You know you don’t have to do this, right? If you’re uncomfortable, nobody is gonna judge you” Tara can feel your hand leave her side, and the smaller girl has to physically stop herself from letting out a whine of frustration

“I’m not uncomfortable. I just… need to adjust.” The brunette not-so-accidentally grinds her hips against yours, and she swears she hears you let out a tiny groan

It’s Wes’ turn next, but Tara can’t focus as she gropes around the couch for your hands. The alcohol in her system takes over when she leans back into you, and makes you wrap your arms around her torso. You happily oblige

“You having a good night, so far?”

Tara decides to be bold. “It’s definitely better in your lap”

Despite your semi-hard cock uncomfortably rubbing against your jeans, you try your best to learn more about Tara. Asking how her day was, what she’s majoring in, if she has any family; all while the brunette causes more friction by slowly rubbing her ass on your crotch. You have to suppress many moans as she not-so-casually grinds on you

Tara learns that you used to work on a family farm in Texas, but moved to California for college. You told her about the animals, the pumpkin patches, and looking up at the stars with your siblings

Not even noticing it’s your turn again, Chad has to remind you to draw a card. You instantly miss Tara’s heat when she crawls off your lap so you can draw a card. The game goes on for the next hour or so, and you can barely remember what you had to do after all the drinks you’ve had

You end up having to quit the game halfway through when you refuse to send a nude photo of yourself to a random number or take a drink. Tara’s card no longer applies very early on, but she actively decides to sit in your lap for the rest of the game

Amber kicks out the rest of the party-goers around 1 am, and you’ve been tasked to drive Tara and Mindy home. Somehow you’re the least drunk. Since Chad was their ride and he’s off somewhere making out with Liv, you so graciously offered to drive them home.

The ride to Mindy’s house was quiet, but it was a comfortable quiet. You tapped on the steering wheel to the soft music, Mindy was half asleep, and Tara was discreetly trying to look at you from the passenger seat. You dropped Mindy off at her place, and now you were on your way to Tara’s house. The moonlight was hitting your eyes in the right way, causing them to sparkle the tiniest bit Tara had a little staring problem

“Do i have something on my face?”

“Do you want to stay over at my place?” The brunette blurts out, instantly regretting her words. “I mean- uh, if you want…”

“Sure, i’d like to stay over. I’m pretty sure i have some extra clothes in here, anyway. Any scary dogs i should beware of?”

“Does my sister count?”

“Only if she bites” This earns a laugh from Tara, and you mentally pat yourself on the back

“Definitely beware of her. She’s staying at her boyfriends place tonight, so you’re good”

“Noted” You pull into the Carpenters driveway, and both of you get out. Grabbing an extra hoodie, shirt, and shorts, you follow Tara into her house

“Bathroom is on the left. Do you want to watch a movie?”

“Sure, you can pick”

“You’re gonna wish you never said that. Let’s watch The Babadook”

“Seriously? Dude, i used to jump like six feet in the air when the floor boards creaked in the barn”

“You’ll live” Rolling your eyes at her words, you made your way to her bathroom to change. You made sure to freshen up, even though you two were just watching a movie. The smell of buttered popcorn filled your lungs and you could faintly hear the popping kernels

When you leave her bathroom, Tara’s already changed into something more comfortable

“Do we have to watch something scary? Can’t we watch a sitcom or something?”

“Listen, you let me decide but we don’t have to if you don’t wanna” Tara finds her seat on the couch, your shoulders touching when she sits down the bowl of popcorn between you two

“But i will think you’re a pussy”

“The Babadook it is” You click play on the remote, and Tara lays her head on your shoulder. She barely pays attention to the movie, considering she’s seen it far too many times. Instead, the brunette opts to watch you and all of your reactions. You’ve raised the blanket up under your nose and leaned into Tara about 20 times, and the movie is just about halfway through

Every now and again you’d flinch in anticipation, and Tara would rub your thigh in support. You don’t know if your heart is beating due to the movie, or due to Tara practically being on top of you for the second time this night

When the movie ends and the credits roll, you can only stare at the black screen and Tara lets out a laugh

“So, what do you think?”

“I don’t think i’ll be able to sleep tonight, Tara”

“You’ll be okay” The brunette pats your cheek

“Can we watch something lighter? Like My Little Pony?”

“Of course you were a horse girl”

“Actually i was an Equestria Girls girl, thank you” You huff

“Tomato, potato, they were all ponies” Tara rolls her eyes, and smiles “I think i have another horror movie you’ll like. Well, it’s technically a trilogy”

“Absolutely not! I’d like to be able to close my eyes tonight and not hallucinate a monster leaning over me”

“There’s a scene where two girls kiss”

“…Fine.”

An hour in, the two main girls are making out in their bras, and you’re staring quite intensely at the scene. Something in the room shifts, and all of a sudden you start to feel hotter. Tara goes from rubbing your thigh to slowly dragging her hand to your crotch, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. Your breath hitches when she starts to rub your clothed cock

“A-Are we about to do the thing?” You say unsure, but the brunette is already pulling you off the couch and leading you to her room

Before you know what’s happening, Tara is guiding you into her bedroom and pushing you up against a wall. Her kisses are hungry and fast, wanting to taste every part of you. When she starts to fiddle with your shorts, you let out a small laugh at how she huffs in frustration

“Take it off, already.”

“Someone’s needy” You tease

“I’ve been eye fucking you all night. I’m not waiting any longer. I had to drag you here myself”

“I didn’t know if i was reading your signals wrong…” You mumble, and Tara hates how adorable you look. God why were you cute and hot at the same time

“I was grinding on you the entirety of those two rounds at the party”

“You said you were adjusting! I thought my lap was uncomfortable!”

“I hate how the oblivious ones are always the hottest.” Tara finally manages to pull down your shorts through shaky hands, and she feels her mouth water when she sees the small tent in your underwear

“Spider-man boxers?” the shorter girl quirks an eyebrow at you

“I didn’t think i’d have sex tonight” You suck in a breath when Tara starts to rub your cock through your boxers

“Really? You didn’t think you’d get laid tonight looking like this” Tara motions to your entire body with her non-busy hand. “Maybe i should show you how pretty you are. Do you want that, baby?” The brunette squeezes your cock; and you nod, not trusting your voice to do anything but moan

As she gets on her knees, Tara pulls down your boxers just enough to reveal your hardened dick

“Jesus, you’re big…” The brunette says to herself, but you can feel your ego boost at her words. Tara starts to lick the veins on your shaft, and you can feel her massaging your balls. Your cock is drooling pre-cum when Tara kisses your tip, and you let out a breathy moan

“Please, Tara…”

“Tell me what you want, baby”

“Please let me fuck your mouth”

“Let me adjust to your size first. I’ll let you know when you can start, does that sound good?”

“A-Anything you want”

“You’re cute.” Tara kisses your tip again before taking it into her mouth, eliciting a moan from your throat. She swirls her tongue in a way that drives your crazy. Her hands make their way around your thighs, and Tara squeezes your ass as she takes half your cock into her mouth. The brunette squeezes your balls and you hear her gag as her nose meets your lower abdomen. The sight of Tara deepthroating your cock almost makes you cum

“Fuck.” You breathe out. You try backing away to give Tara a little room to breathe but she just ends up making you thrust into her mouth, making her gag. You pull her face away from your cock not wanting her to choke, and the shorter girl wipes a little drool off her chin

“Why’d you do that?” Tara asks, a little annoyed

“I didn’t want you to run out of breath. Your eyes were watering”

“It’s nice how much you care about me. I can assure you i can handle your cock, baby. It helps you taste good”

“If it ever gets too much or becomes uncomfortable, squeeze my hand” You tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, and Tara’s heart flutters at how soft you’re being despite the situation

“I promise i’ll let you know if it starts to become too much, baby” The brunette kisses your tip once again and dives right back into sucking your dick. When you look down and she gives you a small nod, your hands tangle in her hair. You start off with small thrusts, slowly going faster as Tara gets used to your size

“F-Fuck you’re amazing” Your balls slap against her chin, and Tara almost cums at how dirty it feels having you fuck her throat like a fleshlight

“Shit, i’m gonna cum, Tara…” You moan, and the brunette gives you a pleading look. You can only assume it means ‘Please cum down my throat’, so that’s exactly what you do. You release your load in her mouth with a groan, and Tara happily swallows all of it down. When she pulls away from your cock, you use your thumb to wipe away the leftover cum on her chin. Tara takes your thumb in her mouth, and licks away the rest of your semen

She gets off her knees, and gets up to pull you into another searing kiss. You can taste yourself on her tongue, and you moan into her mouth at the flavor

“Jesus, you’re still hard?”

“I have the stamina of a stallion” You shrug, feigning a big ego

“Oh, yeah? How about i ride you and we’ll see if you can handle it”

“You have such a beautiful way with words”

“I’d be mad about the teasing of you weren’t cute. Hurry up and get naked, already”

“Yes ma’am” Barely a second passes before Tara’s lips are on yours. In a flurry of heat, both of your clothes end up strewn about her bedroom. Tara pushes you onto her bed. She straddles your lap and kisses you with a new wave of confidence and fervor. When the brunette urges you to lay back, you have to actively keep your jaw closed at the sight of Tara. Unfortunately for you, she notices your staring

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer”

“Can i really?”

“Mm… maybe next time”

Your face lights up. “Next time?”

“After you take me on a date first. We can talk about the specifics later” Tara softly kisses the bridge of your nose, making you close your eyes and blush

“Right now, i want you in me.” The brunette on top of you lines up your tip with her pussy, slowly sinking down your shaft

“Fuck,” Tara takes the rest of your cock in her, and you massage her hips when you can feel her squeezing around you “You feel so good, baby”

Noticing how you moan at her praise, Tara takes note of this. She starts to move up and down, and the feeling of her around you earns a whimper from your throat. Moans are exchanged as Tara starts to ride you faster, constantly increasing her pace

“I’m close, Tar” You breathe out, letting her nickname slip through your lips

“Fuck i am too, baby. You’re so big” Her words are reinforced as she starts to tighten around your cock, and you have to use all your strength to pull out. You ejaculate your cum all over your stomach, and so does Tara. When you both come down from your high, the brunette notices how you’re still somehow hard

“Round two?”

—

A/n pt.2: cookie if you can guess the second movie they watch

#jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega #tara carpenter #chad meeks martin #mindy meeks martin #sam carpenter #scream #anika kayoko #scream 6 #amber freeman #quinn bailey #ethan landry

2K notes · View notes

hamliet · 3 months ago

Text

Love is Life, and Also Unpredictable

The Decameron is a brilliant, beautiful show that deserves way more praise than the lukewarm reviews. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a love story so beautiful and characters who subverted expectations in the most satisfying ways.

Every time you think a character is an unforgivable lout, you'll be surprised at how human they'll be. The character you think is a buffoon and whom you wish would die because they're THAT level of annoying ends up making you bawl with their words a single episode later, and it still feels in character.

I dunno, the show has pretty mixed reviews, but if you like dark humor and a study on humanity, this show is for you. Also, if you like love stories of any sort, because this show contains several of the single most unique love stories I could have ever imagined. Yes, including queer and... ace love.

*yes i have read boccaccio's work on which it's based

Spiritual, Agape Love: Neifile and Panfilo

I genuinely think the sexless marriage and partnership of a gay man and a devout, neurotic straight woman is one of the most beautiful love stories I've seen in media, ever. They genuinely want each other to be happy, and they aren't content just being each other's "beard" or financial security. They want to know each other more. They want honesty. They want to be together and to have intimacy, just not romantic or sexual.

The scene where they reconcile in front of Ruggiero is stunningly wholesome and--dare I say it--pure.

The scene where Neifile falls in the well and waits for God to save her is clearly a riff on the classic parable of the guy who is drowning and turns down two boats and a helicopter rescue saying "no thanks, God will save me," only to die and get to heaven and cry, "God, why didn't you save me?" Then God replies, "you dumbass, I sent you two boats and a helicopter!"

Neifile is rescued because her husband Panfilo pays someone to rescue her and to tell her God sent a vision telling them where to find Neifile. When she finds out Panfilo orchestrated it, she's furious about him deceiving her. But the reality, we later realize, is that he didn't exactly. Neifile wanted proof God still cared about her. He sent her a husband who loved her so much he would do anything to save her.

Neifile's faith isn't perfectly written, but it's not mocked. In the end, Neifile and Panfilo live like Christ--which is to say, they save their friends even though they die. Neifile dies afraid, but life comes with no guarantees. It's unpredictable, just like love. And after her death, Panfilo seems to lose the will to live--but when he decides to sacrifice his life to die alongside Neifile, it's not so much out of a desire to die as it is out of a desire to have his friends survive. And it's not a coincidence that the foe they face off with is a self-proclaimed prophet who's really a cruel, hypocritical cult leader. Neifile's dead, plague-ridden body is more holy than the cult leader's sword.

Romantic/Eros Love: Misia and Filomena, Tindaro and Stratilia, (and everyone)

Everyone has romantic love and/or a sexual relationship in the story. Everyone has a "pairing," but it is seldom their most important bond.

Dioneo and Licisca

Filomena and Misia

Pampinea and Sirisco

Tindaro and Stratilia

Neifile and Panfilo/Ruggiero

Panfilo and Neifile/Andreoli

The two that are the most important here are Misia and Filomena, and Tindaro and Stratilia. Yet they are both quite unique portrayals as well, because while Misia and Filomena's love is requited, Tindaro's loev for Stratilia is completely unrequited. Yet, its power still shines through.

Tindaro's love for Stratilia is utterly unrequited and stays that way. However, his love for her is nonetheless real and he proves it over and over, and it isn't dependent on her returning it. His determination to love her, no matter what she does or doesn't give him, is honestly a beautiful exploration of unrequited love. Usually in fiction unrequited love is either someone wasting their time or a tragedy.

Rarely does unrequited love have power to redeem and save, but here it does. It motivates Tindaro to change himself for the better and to become the best version of himself, and it saves Stratilia's life and the life of her son.

Yet, the story avoids any kind of iffy subtext about sex corrupting love. Misia and Filomena get a happily ever after (the only pairing in the series that does), but Tindaro's love for Stratilia, which literally starts as hate sex and stays that way for her, redeems Tindaro. So the show avoids saying that sex is all that love is, and avoids the implication that sex ruins love as well.

Familial Love: Licisca and Filomena, Stratilia and Jacopo

The series addresses sibling love in a variety of ways. Filomena and Licisca are clearly sisters long before we get the official reveal that Licisca is actually Filomena's half-sister in blood. And even when we see them fighting and pushing each other off a bridge (literally), they love each other. They can't bear to see each other die, even as they peck at each other and insult each other constantly.

Filomena: Licisca, you saved me again! Licisca: Yeah, you dumb bitch. Love's got long claws.

Truly, a sister exchange right there.

What gets in the way of their familial relationship is class. The series juxtaposes class issues against familial ones quite a bit. Leonardo, for example, we never meet, but the way he treats Stratilia and Jacopo (his son) is pretty terrible.

And yet, Jacopo has a good life. Stratilia loves him, even though he is the reason she can never leave the villa, marry, or have any sort of life of her own. She knows Leonardo never plans to have Jacopo as an heir or treat him as a son in any way, but she loves him and sticks around for him, and doesn't resent him for it. And he in turn adores his mother and wants to protect her. Love is a burden, as Panfilo says directly, but so is life. Love anchors.

What gets in the way of love for this mother and son, temporarily, is again class. Not for herself, but for her son, Stratilia eventually decides to take the villa since Leonardo is dead and Jacopo is the rightful heir. But clinging to class and material possessions in this series never ends well.

When Stratilia realizes her desire to seize the villa in the name of justice for her son will likely get them all killed, she cries and blames herself for their coming deaths.

As Tindaro says:

Stratilia: I failed my son Tindaro: No. You have given him everything. And love most of all. He is blessed. You understand that Jacopo? You are blessed.

In other words, love doesn't have to be perfect. It can involve major screwups and pain, but that doesn't mean the life they had or the love was any less powerful.

Also of note: the whole reason the peasants turn to mercenaries and cults is because the rich lock themselves away from the poor, when in reality they are all humans. You can't counter acts of God (or, y'know, rats) but where humans do have power, in all the terrible hands life slaps them with, is the ability to love each other and help each other. While this sounds cheesy, the juxtaposition of this idea with a black comedy plague setting actually makes it shine.

The Loveless: Pampinea

At the start of the story, there are two buffoons: Tindaro and Pampinea.

Tindaro is misogynistic and pathetic, and Pampinea is equally insufferable but more sympathetic because her insufferable tendencies are clearly driven by her status as an unmarried woman in a patriarchal, misogynistic society.

Yet Pampinea has all of these kinds of love, and can't accept any of them. Sirisco loves her and thinks she is beautiful. She not only pushes him away, but is cruel in doing so. She has the respect of Neifile and Licisca. She has unrequited loyalty and love from Misia, and uses it to manipulate Misia into killing Ruggiero for her (and the irony is that Misia, who is traumatized from killing Ruggiero, then kills Pampinea).

Pampinea is a well-written villain, imo. You love to hate her, but you also see her humanity. The way she treats Misia, though, is increasingly horrifying, and their relationship foils Tindaro and Dioneo's, Filomena and Licisca's, and Leonardo's and Stratilia's/Sirisco's.

In fact, Filomena even directly acknowledges that she's no better than Pampinea for how she's treated Licisca. Tindaro doesn't get the chance to have that realization about Dioneo while Dioneo is alive, but he does give him a decent burial when he definitely didn't have to. And, there's an aspect of tragedy there too--Dioneo did care about Tindaro, but Tindaro's inability to show any kind of care for Dioneo while he lived means that he doesn't realize that Dioneo did in fact find love in the end, though he acknowledges that this was what Dioneo did primarily want in life.

In contrast, Pampinea has chance after chance after chance to choose differently, to choose a single bond, and she doesn't. She also recognizes that her servant wants love more than anything, just like Tindaro and Dioneo, but instead of using that to honor them, she uses it to degrade and manipulate Misia.

Bad Victims and Toxic Love: Misia and Pampinea

Misia is a bad victim. It takes forever for her to realize she's being abused and even longer to accept it. She does in fact murder someone for her mistress, and she keeps going back to Pampinea even when it means essentially betraying Filomena, whom she romantically loves. When she asks for help, she pushes the people she's asked away.

Eventually, the only way she sees to free herself is to kill Pampinea, because love for Pampinea is a way to cage someone rather than a way to set them free. Pampinea's already introduced the idea of killing for love, so it's not really a surprise when this comes back to bite Pampinea and she is killed.

Yet the story doesn't demonize Misia for this. It shows how damn difficult it is to free oneself from an abuser, and how genuine the love for an abuser can be. In fact, the victim can often not even realize they're being abused and taken advantage of.

Furthermore, Misia's abuse doesn't make her a better person. Most people tend to assume that victims cry and wait for rescue, but that's not realistic. Victims lash out and can sometimes have a massive cognitive dissonance, as demonstrated in the show when Misia begs Sirisco for help and then blames him for Ruggiero's death when he calls her out on Pampinea's abuse of her.

Even Misia killing Pampinea isn't portrayed as a moral positive. It's tragic, but it also doesn't have to destroy Misia's future. Filomena loves her and forgives her, and that love can tether Misia to life despite her having two murders under her belt.

Sirisco also goes down a bad path, similar to Misia. He brings misery and problems to the villa in his outage over Pampinea's treatment of him. Yet he does repent after he sees that his actions have directly led to the deaths of the peasants who treat him well, and he survives.

#hamliet reviews #the decameron #panfilo #neifile #filomena #misia #licisca #tindaro #sirisco #pampinea #stratilia #jacopo

262 notes · View notes

vamptember · 3 months ago

Text

WELCOME BACK TO THE VAMPIRE PARTY! 🦇

Welcome to our third annual Vamptember event celebrating Anne Rice's The Vampire Chronicles and all its adaptations! 🖤

For the month of September please join us in making vampire stuff! Fic, art, headcanons, playlists, meta, anything you can think of! Base it on the books, the 1994 movie, the AMC show, the musical, whatever you want! Canon or AU, get creative!

RULES

1. There are no rules. Please have fun!

2. Each day has THREE PROMPTS in case one doesn’t speak to you! Pick one or combine them or rearrange them, it’s up to you!

3. Tag your posts #vamptember so that we can reblog! If your post isn’t showing in the tag please don’t hesitate to DM it to us!

4. We finally have an AO3 collection this year, find it here!

Tell your friends and share to spread the word! Daily prompts (3/day) under the cut!

1. 1920s / Experiment / Eros & Psyche

2. Pomegranates / Sick / Dating App

3. Eucharist / Slice of Life / Gentleman Death

4. Private Jet / Tape Recorder / Missing Scene

5. Romeo & Juliet / Meet Cute / “The easy cleft of my mortality”

6. Library / Genderswap / Shrine

7. FREE DAY

8. Medieval AU / Honey / “Evil is always possible”

9. Colosseum / Flights of Devils / Slow Burn

10. Phantom of The Opera / Rat / Ceremony

11. Nomad / “He ate my heart” / Aphrodisiac

12. Beautiful Boy / Grocery Store / Magic

13. Night Club / Tiara / Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

14. FREE DAY

15. Ghosts / Breakfast In Bed / Three Is Company

16. Roleplay / Office / Forest

17. Kittens / Reverse AU / “You made a mess”

18. Lost In Translation / Eras / Marriage

19. High School AU / Metamorphosis / Dream Daddy

20. The Romance of Certain Old Clothes / 1497 / Blind Date

21. FREE DAY

22. Music Video / Pupil / Egg

23. 5 + 1 / Cigarette / Guardian Angel

24. “Half in love with easeful death” / Divorce / Mercury

25. Hospital / Celestial Bodies / Garden

26. Funeral Pyre / Tea Time / Dress Up

27. Drag / Reptile / Hair Washing

28. FREE DAY

29. Hunger / A Mother’s Love / Insects

30. Your Age / Tattoo / Epilogue

309 notes · View notes

impish-baby · 21 days ago

Note

OK, I came up with this idea and I would love your take on it. How about a yandere hero and yandere villain duo for a vigilante who is newer to the game and is close to anti-hero territory?(possibly killing people)(I keep picturing the hero blaming the villain for all of the reader’s faults)

Totally fine if you don’t want to do this

-🌙

You're not as brave as you where at the start - platonic yandere villian and hero x vigilante reader - 🎭

"You bastard."

Eos seems completely unfazed by the snarled insult, inspecting their nails like the city's number one hero wasnt glaring daggers at them. It's scary, Nyx could squish your head like a grape if he wanted to but they act like he's nothing but a pest.

"Please be mindful of the child in the vicinity if you're going to use such foul language." They tut, shaking their head at the hero's uncouth behavior. "Honestly.."

Nyx sputters, glancing between you both in disbelief, it makes you wish the ground would just upon up and swallow you whole. It's bad enough you're on the radar for being a vigilante, the last thing you need is to be associated with Eos.

"Y- You're going to try to tell me off for cursing when you murdered someone in front of them?" Nyx clenches his fists, "Bullshit! You dont have any right to act all holier than thou to me."

A plethora of emotions rage through your mind, heart stopping terror at first then confusion at the accusation thrown at the villian.

Eos obviously knows by the way they shoot you a wink before regarding the hero again, "Oh, that? A silly little mistake." They place a hand over their heart in a show of remorse, "Poor dear just showed up at a bad time. Truly a pity.."

It looks like nyx is going to pop a blood vessel with how hard he's clenching his jaw, a vein bulging out in the man's forehead. You can't help but shrink behind Eos at the sight of his anger, the villain happily accepting being your shield for the present moment. Nyx looks.. almost hurt when you shy away from him, faltering in his aggressive demeanor.

"O- Oh, kid, I'm sorry. Why don't you just come here? I know they may have made it seem like they're your friend, but I promise you, they aren't." Eros frowns, scooping you into their arms so you can't go anywhere, not like you would've in the first place.

"How rude, trying to poison my own child's view of me. Not very heroic.."

The furry on Nyx's face is indescribable as he unsheathes his sword. "Excuse me?"

#they're going to end up having split custody of you #nyx is a dad that really wants to bond with his kid but doesnt know how #eos is the mom thats perfect at everything #famial yandere #platonic yandere #platonic yandere x reader #yandere x reader #yandere fanfiction #yandere drabble #you've got mail! 📨#🌙 anon

196 notes · View notes

sluttyten · 1 month ago

Text

limited time only

Kinktober Day 2 | Jaemin Masterlist | Member Masterlist

tags: supernatural creature, semi-public sex, beach sex, nudist jaemin, wax play, grinding, riding, a little play on the myth of Eros and Psyche,

length: 4707

The first day you saw the man come from the sea, you thought your eyes were deceiving you. He came from the water, all golden skin and dripping with glistening saltwater, entirely nude save for the gray folded fabric he carried in one hand.

Typically, in your time living in this coastal town, seeing a naked man walking along the beach is cause for concern. However, when the naked man walking towards you has just emerged from the sea looking like a sea god, it’s a little more difficult to take issue with.

It’s difficult to look away from him — his windswept, damp hair is the color of midnight; his handsome face reminds you of Renaissance artwork; his broad shoulders are just a prelude to the rest of the masterful composition of his body; his waist tapers in, accentuating his toned abdomen, drawing your gaze downward along a fine dark trail of hair….

You tear your gaze away from him, looking back down at the fluttering pages of the book you had been reading up until his magnificent emergence.

God. He’s beautiful.

When you glance up again, he’s no longer in front of you, and you’re a little scared to look at the rest of the beach behind you. If you risk another look at him, you’re worried that you might not be able to tear your gaze away. So instead you do your damnedest to focus on the book you’d been thoroughly enjoying prior to his appearance.

But your mind keeps wandering back to the shape of the man, which stirs heat low in your belly. And then there’s just your simple curiosity — you’ve not seen that man before; is he just a tourist that’s mistaken this beach as a nude beach? Is he just an exhibitionist? What’s his story?

After a while, you give up on making any further progress in your book, and you begin to pack up your things to leave.

A shadow falls over your blanket, and you tilt your head, lifting your hand to shield your eyes from the bright sunlight. And you look up and up and up, until finally your eyes settle on the face of the sea man. He’s dressed now, regardless of the state that you’d previously seen him in, and he’s smiling now — a dazzling, charismatic grin that sets your heart racing.

“Hello,” he greets you. His voice is surprisingly deep, yet soft-toned. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just saw what book you were reading, and I’ve been meaning to pick it up, but I was just wondering if it’s any good? I’ve heard some controversial opinions about it.”

Oh. The ocean god reads and he looks like that? The news is devastating to your quickly developing crush on this man.

It turns out you have more in common with him than just that singular book. For the next few hours, you sit together on your little blanket on the beach and talk, laugh, and you pray that it’s not your imagination that he seems equally as interested in you as you are in him. You learn that he’s not from around here, he’s just visiting for the first time in seven years. He’s an only child. He likes to read, to people-watch, to sing and dance, to take photographs to truly capture the human experience. He laughs when you tell him that sounds like something a really passionate artist would say.

As the sun begins to lower towards the horizon, you realize just how late it’s become. You’ve actually got plans with your friends for dinner that you’ll be late to if you don’t hurry.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, “I didn’t mean to keep you.” He stands up, freeing up your blanket as you’re shoving your things into your bag.

“You’re alright! I just lost track of time. I’ve enjoyed talking with you. Um.” You pause, your blanket wadded up in your hands, and you look up at him. “Actually, I’m sorry. We’ve been talking for hours, and I just realized, I’ve not asked your name.”

He smiles, the warmth of it matching the setting sun behind you. “My name is Jaemin.”

Jaemin, the sea god.

And, because you really like him a lot, you put yourself forward, and you ask him for his number.

“If I had a phone, I definitely would give you my number.” Jaemin looks genuinely apologetic. “But, seeing as I don’t have a phone, we could meet back here tomorrow, same time?”

And that’s good enough for you.

You run off, have dinner with your friends during which you tell them about your mysterious beach man, giggle like you’re all young girls with a crush, and that night you dream of Jaemin.

You wake with his name on your lips, heat racing beneath your skin.

Hours later, you’re again sitting on the beach on your blanket. Again, you’re holding a book, though today you’re so utterly distracted by the prospect of seeing Jaemin again that you can’t focus on a single word on the page. And then you hear a gasp from a woman sitting a short distance away.

There he is.

Jaemin, rising again from the water, again nude.

Luckily, you’d brought a towel along today, and as Jaemin strides up the beach towards you, you toss the towel at him.

“Is this a common thing for you?” You ask as he wraps the towel around his waist. He drops something dark and damp down in the sand beside your blanket before he sinks down to sit with you. This close to him, you find it a little difficult to fully focus. “The… skinny-dipping at a public beach?”

Jaemin smiles, pushes his fingers through his damp hair. “Does it bother you?”

“Not really.” It gives you the opportunity to admire him.

“Alright, then.” Jaemin reaches over, his fingers brushing the backs of your hands. “What are we reading today?”

So again you sit there with Jaemin for hours and hours, talking and occasionally taking a brief trip down into the water to cool off.

Jaemin, despite his manner of arrival earlier, never goes into the water above mid-calf, just content to stand and watch as you wade out into the water. His gaze rushes hungrily over your skin when you walk out of the water towards him — seawater runs in sun-silvered rivulets down your chest and your stomach and your thighs. He never strays far from your beach blanket, keeping it always within sight, which you appreciate him keeping an eye on your things while you’re out in the water.

You stay on the beach all day and into the twilight hour before you make a brief excursion into town to pick up some dinner, some drinks, and then you return back to your blanket where Jaemin is still waiting.

Some time later, in between the drinks, you grow bold enough to lean closer and kiss him. Jaemin, to your absolute delight, eagerly kisses you back. It doesn’t stop there of course. Once you’ve had one taste of kissing this godly man that washed up on your beach, you can’t wait to have more.

You don’t care that you’re in public, out in the open on the beach where anyone can walk by. You pull Jaemin over you – drinks, dinner, books forgotten – and you encourage his hands to wander under the edges of your bikini; your fingers push loose the towel he still wears bound around his hips. The town lies silent behind you while you moan into each other's mouths, touching each other, grinding on the blanket in the sand.

“Jaemin,” you gasp his name as he finally lets his body settle between your hips; his heavy cock rubs forward against your heat. “Jaemin, please, just put it inside me.”

He drops his mouth to your shoulder, teeth nipping lightly as he grinds forward once again, slow and teasing before he just –

“Fuck, right there, Jaemin!” You twist one hand into his hair, the other drags your nails down his back.

His cock is magnificent, feels so perfect inside you.

You hold him close, muffling your moans by biting his shoulder, and he buries his sounds in your hair or against your lips.

You forget that you’re on the beach, fucking out in the open, but even when the crashing of the waves or the sound of a car passing by on the road reaches through your sex-fueled haze, you can’t bring yourself to care that someone might see, might hear.

Jaemin pulls out just before he cums with a low moan of your name. His forehead rests against your chest as he rapidly strokes his cock, striping the blanket between your thighs with his cum. And then he’s lowering himself down, burying his head between your thighs – two fingers pumping inside you, his tongue at your clit – and the vibration of his moans against your clit quickly has your thighs quaking around his ears, your orgasm cresting and crashing over you like the waves battering the shore behind him.

You collapse, a molten puddle of satisfaction in the sand. Your heart races, pulse thundering in your ears.

“I think you need to come home with me,” you pant, trying to recover your breath. You’re halfway joking, but at the same time, you dearly want Jaemin to come back to your place, to tumble you once more in your bed, to wake up beside you in the morning and do this again. “I make a great breakfast, if you’d like to come over, stay the night, and try it in the morning?”

Jaemin lifts himself up, sliding up alongside your body, and he drags one of your thighs up over his hip. “I’d like that,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

So, you pull your bikini back into place. You pack your things back into your bag. Jaemin wraps the towel around his waist again, and it’s only as you start to walk away from the beach into town – you live only a ten minute walk away – that you realize Jaemin is carrying with him that dark fabric that you’d noticed him carrying out of the water with him yesterday and earlier today. You wonder what it is, and if it’s clothing then why is he still wearing only your towel.

You let him rinse off in your shower while you tidy your room – putting away clean laundry you’d left piled on the foot of your bed, kicking dirty clothes out of sight, hiding the embarrassing seal plushie that you’ve slept with since you were seven.

After Jaemin emerges, clean and smelling like your lavender body wash, you take a quick shower – washing sand out of places it certainly doesn’t belong. You can hear Jaemin walking around, the creaking of the floor in your house as he probably looks at your bookshelves, the photographs of your family and friends hung on the walls, your collection of knickknacks.

He’s occupied, so you linger in the bathroom a moment longer to text your friends from the evening before about the details of your day – meeting up again with him, spending all day with him, how he’s a tourist but he’s been here before seven years ago, how he weirdly carries like a wad of gray fabric with him, how you had sex on the beach, and he’s now waiting for you in your bedroom.

You expect them to be excited for you. A few of them respond just as enthusiastically as you’d hoped, but one friend is a spoilsport about the whole thing.

“That’s sorta weird right?” she sends in the groupchat. “Him coming out of the ocean like that, all mysterious and from out of town?”

Is she accusing you or lying, making up a handsome man that sounds like a fantasy?

“What is he a selkie lol” another friend says.

“My grammy used to scare my sisters and I with stories of selkies,” the first one says, “Warning us that selkie men would appear on the beach and steal us away into the sea to drown us and steal our souls.”

“Your grammy was a hippie, babe, I think she tripped a little too hard in the old days and never quite recovered,” one of your friends says in response to that.

You’re still stuck on what she’s talking about. A selkie. What’s a selkie?

You ignore the notifications from the group chat and instead search up ‘selkie,’ uncertain what you’re going to find.

You certainly don’t expect to find your friend accusing Jaemin of being a shapeshifter, but it turns out that’s exactly what a selkie is – a supernatural being that resembles a seal in one form, and upon shedding its skin becomes human. She’s ridiculous for planting such a notion in your head, and when you check back into the groupchat, you find it’s grown even more ridiculous.

Some of them are joking that your sudden silence is because your new selkie boyfriend has taken you out to sea. One of them is jokingly asking if he’s got webbed fingers and toes. And the one who started all of this is actually sending messages like she genuinely believes Jaemin could be a part seal-part human creature.

“If he’s a selkie, he’s got to have his seal skin somewhere nearby. It’s how they transform back. My grammy used to say that they can only come to land every seven years, but if someone hides their seal skin they’ll be forced to stay on land. She said they’re really seductive creatures, which is how they lure poor innocents out into the sea, but it backfires on them because sometimes the one they seduce will be the one to hide their seal skin, and they’re stuck here. She once read a legend that selkies have a mark on their hip like this:” and then she sent a badly scribbled drawing that looks like spirals swirling together.

“You’re so ridiculous. All of you,” you send, “Goodnight.”

You shut your phone off, leave the bathroom, and find Jaemin sitting on the edge of your bed, looking at the seal plushie that you clearly hadn’t hidden well enough.

“This is cute,” he says. “Friend of yours?”

You pluck it quickly from his grasp, tossing it over towards a reading chair you have shoved into the corner of your room by the window. You offer the excuse of, “A childhood memory, that’s all,” before you place yourself in Jaemin’s lap, curl your fingers against the back of his neck, and you press your mouth to his.

Jaemin welcomes the kiss, opening up to let you take control while he tips backwards until he’s lying with his head among your pillows. You make out with him, rolling around in your bed, touching each other again like you’d done on the beach until your sheets are rumpled and the hour is late.

Jaemin falls asleep before you do, his soft snores filling the quiet space between you.

You want to fall asleep, to slip into dreams, but your mind won’t settle. Your thoughts keep turning back to your group chat, your silly friend with her even sillier accusations. And the more you think about it, the more things about Jaemin line up with the things she was saying about selkies.

But the main odd and unexplainable thing that sticks out to you is the thing she said about selkies and their seal skins. Jaemin has that dark gray fabric or whatever that he’s carried with him almost every time you’ve seen him. He had it when he rose out of the sea both times, carrying it with him all the way here.

What if you find it? It’s somewhere in your house. You could just go take a look, see what it is, put aside any silly thoughts you’re beginning to have.

Jaemin shifts a little when you roll away from him, but he doesn’t wake. His eyes are closed, snores still pouring from him. You tiptoe from your bedroom to the front door where he’d dropped the towel as soon as he stepped inside.

You can’t see anything in the dark, and you left your phone back on your bedside table. The next best thing is a candle sitting on your kitchen table. You light it, and by the warm glow, you search the floor. There’s the towel and your abandoned flipflops. It’s only now that you realize Jaemin didn’t even have shoes. He truly came out of the water with nothing but the mysterious dark gray thing.

And you can’t find it. You climb the stairs back towards your bedroom quietly, scanning the shadows of each step to see if maybe it somehow got carried up here. You check the landing and the hall. Finally, you peek into your bathroom.

The mirror above the sink magnifies the light of the flame, making it easier as you check the floor here. There’s your abandoned clothes from before your shower. There’s your towel from after your shower. In the corner behind the door, tucked almost completely out of sight, is the towel you’d handed Jaemin before his shower. It sits crumpled on the floor, covering most of something dark and gray.

You crouch down, pulling the towel away, revealing Jaemin’s only possession.

You touch it.

Whatever it is, it feels like velvet.

You lift it up into the light reflected by the mirror. It’s not any particular shape – not identifiable as a piece of clothing, nor as a blanket or towel. You don’t know what the shape is, and the velvety texture of it combined with the darkness seems to swallow the candlelight, making it even more difficult to make out anything identifiable about it.

Seeing this thing – the potential seal skin of a potential selkie currently sleeping in your bed – hasn’t cleared up anything at all. If anything, you’re even more confused and on-the-fence about your friend’s accusation.

But there’d been that last thing she said.

The mark of a selkie, found on the hip.

You’ve been too swept up in enjoying Jaemin to even notice any marking on his body, but according to your friend and her grammy, that mark would let you identify him.

So, fully aware of how ridiculous you’re being and of how awkward this will be to explain, you pick up the candle and head back to your bedroom.

Jaemin is still asleep on his back, one arm thrown above his head, the sheets pool around his abdomen. You hold your breath while you look at him.

He’s beautiful.

Just looking at him right now you want to jump his bones, pull away the sheet to touch him, get him hard, and ride him.

You think again of what your friend sent in the groupchat earlier, how she said that selkies apparently have great powers of seduction. Is Jaemin exuding some supernatural selkie power of seduction, or are you just really horny for the hot naked guy in your bed?

You come to stand on his side of the bed, and you lean over him, reaching out to nudge away the sheet, searching his bare skin for any sign of any weird marks. All you can see as you slowly drag the sheet down are the marks you’ve unintentionally left on him – hickeys, marks from your fingernails – and more normal things like freckles, hairs, moles arranged like constellations.

Oh.

A spiral-shaped constellation of moles low on his pelvis.

You gasp, tilting the candle to get a better look.

Hot wax spills, pouring over the edge of the candle, landing on Jaemin’s stomach.

His eyes flash open, and in an instant he’s sitting upright. One of his hands has a vice grip on your wrist holding up the candle. His other hand has shot right to your throat, dragging you over him so you’re perched in his lap.

“Jaemin–”

“What are you doing?” He asks, his voice devoid of the sweet charisma. “What have you done?”

You can’t speak. All the signs are pointing to one truth: Jaemin is a selkie.

“Are you–” You squirm, struggling beneath his powerful hands. “Jaemin, this mark… Are you a….”

Jaemin’s hand loosens on your throat, but he keeps a tight grip on your wrist supporting the candle. “Am I what?”

How can you ask him this? If you’re wrong, he’s going to think you’re crazy. But what if you’re right? What then?

Sitting on his lap like this, you can feel his cock beneath you. A bit of candle wax dribbles over the lip of the candle again as your hand wobbles, and from the corner of your eye you watch it trickle down Jaemin’s knuckles. His eyes flare in the dark, his jaw tenses.

“You have to say it,” Jaemin challenges you, “Use your words.”

“Jaemin,” you pause, mustering up the courage or stupidity to speak the next words aloud: “Are you a selkie?”

The fact that you actually asked seems to catch him off-guard. Jaemin’s hold on you falters, just for a moment, but it’s enough to give you the freedom that you manage to break your wrist free, and with your other hand you shove his chest so he’s lying flat beneath you again.

Again, the candle wobbles in your grip.

Another couple drops splatter against Jaemin’s chest. He hisses, but the way his eyes flash and the way his cock twitches beneath you tells you that the sound doesn’t necessarily come from pain.

Jaemin lies still, his eyes fixed on the dancing flame in your hand.

“What are you going to do to me if I tell you that you’re right?” Jaemin asks. “Who are you going to tell?”

“Why would I tell anyone?” You reply. “And if I did, who would believe me?”

You barely even understand what it means to be a selkie. You’re not likely to go blabbering about it to anyone. The only person who would possibly believe you or know what you’re really talking about would be your one friend.

Again, a couple drops of wax escape the candle and meet Jaemin’s bare chest, dangerously close to a nipple.

This time his hips rock off the bed, bucking up between your legs. “Shit, are you going to keep doing that?”

“It depends, do you like it?” You sit down on him, rolling your hips slowly. “Because it seems to me like you do.”

“Can’t we focus on one thing at a time here?” Jaemin groans, his hands flying to your hips as you keep moving. “I thought you were trying to confront me about being a selkie? Or do you want to have sex again, incorporating a little wax play?”

Both? Maybe one should take priority over the other at the moment.

Jaemin’s hips rock up again, and your mind is made up.

There’s only a thin sheet between your pussy and his cock, and it takes only a simple twitch of your hand to move it out of the way. As you move, shifting around to be in the proper position above him, you tilt the candle, watching as wax spills over and paints itself on Jaemin’s skin.

He moans. His nipples are hard, and he watches you with dark lust-filled eyes, full of want. “You’re going to play with me, tease me? After I treated you so well earlier?”

You lower your hips, dragging your pussy along his hard length as you pour a thin line of wax from his sternum down towards his belly button. “Relax, Jaemin. Just enjoy the pain a little.”

His eyelashes flutter, caught between the pleasure as you circle your clit against the head of his cock, and the pain as you dribble a little more wax on his skin. But he clearly loves it: cock twitching, bottom lip pinched between his teeth, his fingers curling against your hips without any urgency to the touch.

You could just keep teasing like this, grinding on him, pouring wax on his sensitive skin. But you don’t want to leave yourself hanging. You want some of the pleasure too.

Jaemin moans in tandem with you as you lean forward, roll your hips down against him, and then push back onto his hard length. As the warmth of your pussy envelops Jaemin’s cock, you brush away some of the dried candle wax on his chest and you lower your mouth to his nipple, flicking your tongue over the hard bud.

Jaemin moves to seek his own pleasure, hips rocking off the bed to bury his cock inside of you while you mouth at his chest, while you let a few more drops of wax speckle his chest, drawing shapes now. He keeps forcing whines and moans, gasps of his name from your lips with each deep press of his cock inside you. And you’re drawing quite the sound collection from him as well, including one sound that you swear sounds like the grunt of a seal, reminding you startlingly in that moment of Jaemin’s identity.

You sit up on him, pressing your hand down against his abdomen, forcing Jaemin to still his movements.

He looks up at you, burning with arousal. But he waits.

“About you being a selkie” you tell him, “I don’t care what you are as long as you’re mine.”

“I belong to the sea,” he tells you. “I can only come to land a few months every seven years. I don’t know that I can be yours, and I don’t think it would be fair to ask you to wait for me.”

You slide your hand up his chest, knocking aside chips of cooled wax. “For now, let’s just make the most of what time we’ve got.” You’ll figure the rest out later.

The candle in your other hand is flickering, the flame going out. Jaemin watches as you lean over him, as you slide the candle onto the bedside table, and as you lean over his face, he lifts his head and captures one of your nipples with his lips. He licks, sucks, and nips at the sensitive peak until your pussy is throbbing with need and you can no longer just sit here on his cock.

You push at his chest until Jaemin falls away, his head once more against your pillows, and he smiles up at you, dazzling and charming again while you sit above him.

You let go of everything, choosing in that moment to focus only on what feels good.

You fuck yourself on Jaemin’s cock, leaning back with your hands braced on his thighs as you bounce. He snakes a hand up between your thighs, fingers on your clit. Your thighs twitch, moans spilling from your lips, and you feel powerful as you take what you want, as Jaemin gives it all to you. His hips rise from the bed, lifting to meet your thrusts, your bodies move in tandem, each of you seeking the height of pleasure.

You thrust down, and the angle of Jaemin’s cock inside you presses against your G-spot right as he pinches your clit between his fingers.

Your orgasm sets you adrift, untethered as your body moves on autopilot, chasing the high higher and higher.

Jaemin sits up, sealing his mouth over yours, rolling your beneath him, and he fucks into you hard, fast, out of rhythm as his climax takes over too, and he cums buried inside you, passing his moans directly to your tongue.

You must pass out, slipping into unconsciousness just like that with Jaemin’s body covering yours inside and out, pressed together inseparably.

When you wake what feels like hours later to the sunrise painting the sky a hundred different shades of pink, Jaemin still sleeps with his face tucked against your shoulder, his arms around you, cock soft but still pressed into the mess between your thighs. When you shift to rearrange a little, Jaemin’s arms hold you tighter still. He sighs, eyebrows furrowing a little.

“Don’t move,” he mumbles sleepily. “I want to hold you for as long as I can.”

You settle in comfortably to the warm security of his arms, content to stay like this with Jaemin for however long you can have.

a/n: day 2 completed! when i started working with a few different prompts and they combined to spell out that I should write mermaid Jaemin with candle wax play I really wasn't sure where this was going to go, but then I started thinking about Eros and Psyche and her dripping hot oil/candle wax on him, and I thought about a book I read as a kid about selkies, and I decided yep that's it, that's the one

I hope you've enjoyed this one, and I look forward to all of you sticking around for the rest of this month's kinktober fics!

Reblogs are deserving of my eternal gratitude, likes are greatly appreciated, and your thoughts and comments are always welcome !

#jaemin #nct #nct dream #jaemin smut #nct smut #nct dream smut

278 notes · View notes