#fury's big week

[gunsandspaceships]

Review of Fury's Big Week tie-in. Сonclusion

I've reviewed all 8 chapters of Fury's Big Week and it's time to sum it up.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapters 4-5 Chapters 6-8

To summarize (the comics vs movies/logic):

❌ The Crash of the Valkyrie - 1943. No, 1945.

❌ The Hydra guy found in Greenland. No, not possible.

❌ S.H.I.E.L.D. is actively searching for Rogers and expects to find him alive. No, they were not searching and did not expect him to be alive.

❌ IM2, The Incredible Hulk and Thor take place in the same year, the same week. No, they took place in different years, in different seasons and months.

❌ S.H.I.E.L.D. scientists know exactly how many hours Tony has left to live. No, they could not know.

❌ Many scenes do not look like in the movies and break the logic of these scenes.

❌ Tony broke the perimeter right in front of Coulson and he knew it right away. No, Coulson didn't find out until the next day.

❌ Problems with the sizes of things, clothes, non-existent restraints and agents with weapons that make no sense.

❌ Natasha in Malibu during Coulson's departure. No, she could not be there at that time.

❌ The time within this "week" is not taken into account.

❌ Natasha blows up Hammer Industries. This does not correspond to the way Fury and Co operated.

❌ Coulson's trip to Roswell. Doesn't make sense and contradicts the one-shot about his trip to NM.

❌ Clint's family doesn't exist. No comments needed here.

❌ Natasha on Banner duty in Virginia. She was busy working on Tony's assessment, according to this Week's timeline.

❌ A whole bunch of agents and Barton at Puente Antiguo right after the battle with the Destroyer. No, there was one car, a few agents, no Barton, and Coulson was right there.

❌ Coulson supervises the study of the Destroyer and the creation of weapons from it. No, he didn't know what this weapon did.

As you could see from reading these reviews, each chapter has some significant differences from the movies. Some things may seem small, like shots that weren't (and couldn't have been) in the movies, some are huge, like Natasha blowing up Hammer Industries with the cops, and most just don't make sense.

No matter how much Marvel says that these comics are canon, they simply cannot be. They contradict the canon. If we try to insert the events of the comics into the plot of the movies, we will break them. That's it.

Marvel, please check what you've done before calling it canon.

P.S. It turns out that meatbag artists are sometimes no better than AI.

[lizlives]

There's this one youtuber named Neinfield, who made a video showing a map of the world and the geopolitical ramifications of the events surrounding the first half life (The BME, the portal storms, the seven hour war) and the world's reaction to it, and then a sequel covering the combine occupation before half life 2. I was just thinking one day, and I totally understand if this is cringe to some people, that this would be really cool to see done with the MCU assuming it included all the other media (Defenders shows, AoS, C&D, etc).

I'm not even the biggest fan of the MCU but I'd be fascinated by works that cover the social and political ramifications of so many of the different events that take place in the MCU, especially when you factor in the shows and whatnot.

Like, what was the public's and the larger FBI's reaction to Wilson Fisk's partial infiltration of it's members? Given that Trevor Slattery's breakout of Seagate and Luke Cage's breakout of Seagate happened almost one after the other, what happened to Seagate following two successful breakouts? Was the people's of New York's decision to call the Battle of New York 'the Incident' the result of some sort of cultural trauma that affected the people who witnessed it? How widespread were the terrigen's effects in the water supply and how did people react? What were the reactions to the growing gang wars in Hell's Kitchen and how did larger Superheroes react? What enabled so much normalized demonization of Spider-Man of all people by the Daily Bugle? Were connections ever drawn between the Defender heroes and Spider-Man in his early years? What was the public's reactions to Midland's Circle's collapse and did people ever uncover the dragon bones buried under New York? What was the news like during Fury's Big Week with so much happening at once? How widespread were worries about the end of times during this period and when did people start becoming used to it? And so many more opportunities

I dunno, there are so many opportunities with a bird's eve view of the MCU in particular and yeah, a lot of it would be headcanon and cleaning up the poor job some have done of the explaining the events in canon, but it would still be fascinating I would feel to see it all play out.

[drkineildwicks]

More BH6

More from the Ghost’s Fury series (read it now on FFN and AO3, Book II updates every Thursday)—as of Book II the Yokai start styling their masks after their dragons, which in Obake’s case means styling it after a Night Fury.  Granted, while I was working on it I went he looks like the Rocketeer...ah, if only they knew what cars were in this AU, I could have the “you look like a hood ornament” line. X’D

Find it on eclipse here, as always be kind and reblog, not repost, thank you! :D

Big Hero 6 © 2014 Disney

How to Train Your Dragon © 2010 DreamWorks; Cressida Cowell

Done in Adobe Photoshop.

[anextravagantliar]

maybe I should do more with the fucking solas jumpscare vision Varric had in the swerve

[artficlly]

lessons in lovemaking

marvel au bucky x blackwidow!reader You and Bucky Barnes go undercover as a married couple, but when a fake kiss gets too real, he unexpectedly finishes in his pants—leaving you both stunned.

Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, smut, fem reader, dry humping, grinding, soft dom vibes reader, soft sub vibes bucky, bucky is touch starved, premature ejaculation, reader has dubious methods of emotional control, vague mentions of previous sa, ex black widow reader, mentions of red room, very consensual, safe words, kissing, panic attacks, bucky barnes needs a hug, if you squint, there's some plot, fluff, angst, mentions of past violence, death and war, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 8.4k

A/N: hey guys, i'm a woman possessed. i've had so much motivation to write recently, so here is a quick one-shot. i'm sure this concept has been done before but i just couldn't stop thinking about touch starved bucky :( ! sorry for any typos - not proof read.

main masterlist | series masterlist

You never would’ve agreed to this mission had you known Barnes was going to be this squeamish. You’d seen the man slit throats without a sound, drop bodies with cold efficiency, and unload an entire chamber of bullets without so much as flinching. He hadn’t even blinked when aliens from outer-fucking-space rained hell upon Earth. But holding your hand? Letting his fingers brush your waist? Anything a devoted ‘husband’ ought to do? The super soldier looked like he’d rather swallow glass. He couldn’t even meet your gaze, for god’s sake.

What the hell had Fury been thinking?

You had to yank him away before anyone noticed the strained—Help me, I’m being held hostage by this incredibly attractive, incredibly capable woman who, might I add, is supposedly my wife—look on his face.

This gala, a weeklong jerkfest for the wealthy and villainous, was meant to be a stroll in the park. Your bread and butter, even if the Red Room had been... regrettable and against your consent, it had taught you an array of useful skills. Yet Barnes was ruining it, turning what should have been a simple infiltration into a goddamn babysitting job. The plan was airtight: pose as a glamorous Russian couple, collect incriminating evidence, and dip at the end of the week. Except Barnes wasn’t holding up his end of the deal. Instead of charming your way through the crowd, you were covering for his stiff, awkward pauses and the fact that he looked less like a besotted husband and more like a man being forced at gunpoint to stand beside you.

By some miracle, you managed to drag him away to one of the empty floors, a tucked-away space littered with stacks of unused tables and chairs. He was wound tight—shoulders squared, jaw clenched, eyes flicking across the dimly lit room like he was expecting death itself to emerge from the shadows. You didn’t bother with subtlety. Tearing the small recording device from between your tits, you fumbled with the button until the tiny red light blinked off. Whoever ended up reviewing the footage later wouldn’t need to hear the verbal onslaught you were about to unleash. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” you hissed, keeping your voice low, though the sheer force of your frustration was enough to strip paint off the walls.

Barnes clenched his jaw, nostrils flaring as he refused to meet your eye. It reminded you of a scolded dog, all pouty and pathetic. You might’ve found it cute under different circumstances. “You’re making this incredibly fucking difficult.”

“I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal—”

“Because it’s our cover, Barnes.” you snapped, incredulous. “We’re supposed to be married, not some fucking timid virgin couple. PDA makes people uncomfortable; they look away, and we have less eye on us to, I don’t know—do our fucking job?”

Barnes looked down at his clenched fists, swallowing hard. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief. The dangling diamond earrings you had hanging from each lobe tinkled slightly, and you ran a hand through your perfectly styled hair, resisting the urge to throttle him.

“You’re unbelievable. Fury should’ve just sent me alone—” you muttered, but the words barely left your lips before your eyes caught movement.

A group. Heading straight for you. Purposeful.

“Fuck.”

With haste, you tucked the small recording device back into your cleavage. Barnes noticed immediately, clocking your distress. His brows knit together, hand twitched toward the hidden knife tucked into his suit jacket.

“No.” You scolded. Catching his wrist, you guided it elsewhere—your hips. He stiffened instantly, making a noise of protest, but you kept him locked in place, pressing in until your chests brushed. Too close. Not close enough.

“Play along,” you murmured. “Kiss me. Now.”

“Wha—” His breath hitched, barely enough time to form a response before you rose onto your toes and sealed your mouth over his.

Barnes froze. Stiff beneath your touch, lips rigid like you’d just planted one on a slab of granite. He still tasted like toothpaste—spearmint—and the faint trace of his aftershave clung to his skin. If you’d been trying to salvage some believability, some small thread of natural chemistry, it was impossible now. It was like kissing a statue.

An aftershave-scented stone statue.

The passing group chuckled, one of them murmuring, amused, “Ah, young love.”

Maybe it was the murmured chuckles of the passing guests, or maybe Barnes had finally remembered how to act, because his grip on your hips suddenly tightened, fingers digging into the fabric of your dress with unexpected force. The silk pulled taut against your skin, trapping heat between you, and then—

A sound.

Low. Strangled. A rasping, utterly pathetic groan against your lips.

You barely had time to register it before something else stole your attention. In the tight press of your bodies, you felt it—hard, insistent, pressing against your pelvis.

Oh.

The realisation sent a flicker of shock through you, but you schooled your expression, keeping your face composed as you lingered just a second longer—just enough to ensure your audience was convinced. Then, finally, you pulled back.

Barnes didn’t move.

For a moment, he just stared, pupils wide and unfocused, a blissed-out haze dulling the sharp blue of his eyes. But then, like a lightning strike, awareness snapped back into him. Horror overtook his dazed expression, his breath hitching as he seemed to realise—

Did he just—?

You both looked down at the same time.

And there it was.

The medium grey of his suit pants betrayed him entirely, darkening at the crotch with an unmistakable wet patch.

You gaped, lips parting in stunned silence. No fucking way.

Barnes didn’t wait for a reaction. With the sheer force of a man fleeing for his life, he ripped himself from your grasp and marched away, stiff-backed and utterly silent, leaving you standing there, speechless.

—

It had been twenty minutes, and Barnes still hadn’t left the goddamn bathroom.

It had taken you all of thirty seconds to track him down, but the moment you found the door, it was locked. Of course it was. You twisted the handle, rattling it in frustration, then resorted to pounding your fist against the heavy wood—subtly, of course, but with enough force that he knew you weren’t going anywhere.

“Barnes.” You hissed his name through gritted teeth, pressing closer to the door. Nothing. Not a shuffle. Not a breath. Absolute fucking silence.

You exhaled sharply, trying to keep your expression neutral as a pair of guests passed by, casting you a curious glance. Yeah, you knew exactly how this looked—lipstick smudged, breath uneven, standing outside a locked men’s bathroom like a woman scorned. You must’ve looked thoroughly debauched.

Your pulse hammered in your throat. This was insane. A simple, fake kiss had made him short-circuit so hard that he fucking came in his pants? Twenty minutes ago, he looked repulsed by the mere idea of touching you, and now he was hiding away like some panicked virgin?

You let out a long, slow groan, dropping your forehead against the door.

“Barnes,” you muttered, knocking again—your patience wearing thinner by the second. “Open the damn door.”

Silence.

You straightened, glaring at the wood as if you could will it into splintering apart.

“Barnes, I have been patient.” You gritted your teeth, knocking harder. “If you don’t open this door in the next five seconds, I will break in.”

Silence.

Motherfucker.

"Alright, I’m coming in," you announced, your voice low but firm.

You cast a quick glance over your shoulder, ensuring no one was watching, before slipping a bobby pin from your hair. Years of practice made the process effortless; your fingers worked quickly, blindly, jamming the pin into the lock and feeling for the mechanism. A few precise twists, a satisfying click, and—

"Make sure you're decent, Barnes—"

The words were halfway out of your mouth when you pushed the door open, but whatever half-hearted joke you'd meant to make withered before it even reached your tongue.

Barnes was not decent.

Not in the way you’d expected.

He sat hunched on the closed toilet lid, head in his hands, his entire body drawn in tight like he was trying to fold in on himself. His knee bounced erratically, the rapid motion almost violent in its rhythm. He had ripped off his suit pants, leaving himself in nothing but his boxers, his bare thighs tense, twitching. His fingers dug into his hair, gripping at the strands like he wanted to rip them out, and when his bloodshot eyes flicked up to you—

You felt your stomach drop.

Panic. Raw, unfiltered, choking panic.

Tears welled along his lash line, his chest rising and falling in uneven, barely contained pants. He looked like a man caught in a cage, seconds from tearing himself apart just to escape it.

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry, and stepped in, shutting the door softly behind you before flipping the lock.

"Hey, Barnes…” Your voice was hesitant, softer than before.

He shook his head, eyes fixed firmly on the floor, his hands trembling as he dragged them down his face.

“I don’t—” His voice cracked, breaking on the words. "I don’t want you in—"

You moved before he could finish, lowering yourself to the cool bathroom tiles in front of him, as if making yourself smaller would make you any less intimidating.

"Hey," you murmured, tone careful but steady. "Look at me."

“No.” It came out sharp, like a whip, a defence mechanism honed over decades. His entire body went rigid, his breathing ragged.

“Barnes, you need to breathe.”

Your voice was steady, firm without being harsh, each syllable carefully measured as you crept forward on the cold tile floor. The dress, the dirt—none of it mattered. It wasn’t your dress, anyway. Tony Stark could foot the bill for a replacement if this one got ruined, all this fancy wear was on his dime.

“In through the nose,” you instructed, voice softer now. “Out through the mouth.”

By some miracle, Barnes listened.

He sucked in a ragged breath, chest expanding beneath his half-unbuttoned dress shirt, and then exhaled through parted lips. It was shaky, uneven, but it was something. You watched in silence, waiting. His limbs still trembled, his fingers clenching and unclenching against his thighs, but the worst of the violent, full-body tremors had eased.

“There you go,” you murmured, voice barely above a breath. “Keep breathing, just like that. You’re doing so well.”

Slowly, you inched forward, shifting across the tiles until you sat in front of his knees. His skin was warm, radiating heat even through the thin fabric of his boxers.

“Barnes,” you hesitated, watching his face carefully. “Can I touch you?”

His whole body tensed.

“What?” His eyes darted up, sharp and startled, as if the very question had knocked the breath from his lungs.

“Is it okay,” you rephrased, slower this time, gentler, “if I touch you?”

Barnes hesitated. His gaze flickered away, jaw clenching like he was at war with himself. But then, after a long, tense beat, he gave a small, stiff nod.

You inhaled, steadying yourself. Then, with slow, deliberate care, you reached out and cradled his face between your hands.

The moment your fingers touched his skin, he flinched.

Not violently. Not like he was afraid of you. But enough that you felt it—felt the way his muscles coiled beneath your fingertips, the way his throat bobbed in a hard swallow. The cool metal of your fake wedding ring grazed his cheek, and his breath hitched, like he had just been burned.

“Keep breathing,” you reminded him, voice low and steady. “Nice and slow.”

Barnes obeyed, dragging in another breath, and you felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. The hard lines of his face softened just slightly as he leaned into your touch, nuzzling—actually nuzzling—against your palms.

“There you go,” you murmured, your thumb stroking in slow circles over his cheek. “Look at me.”

His eyelids flickered, resisting for a moment, but then those storm-blue eyes finally met yours. He looked exhausted. Frayed at the edges. But grounded, at least. Present.

“Tell me one thing you can smell right now.”

Barnes blinked. A hint of confusion crossed his face. “Smell?”

“Yes, smell.” You nodded, keeping your voice soft, coaxing. “Just one thing. Keep breathing and tell me.”

He hesitated but then took a deliberate inhale through his nose, his bouncing knee slowing. “I guess… whatever shitty fucking chemicals they use to clean this place.”

A quiet laugh left you, your thumb tracing a swirling pattern along his cheekbone. “Good. You’re doing good, Barnes. Now, tell me two things you can feel.”

His breathing had steadied, his inhales and exhales falling into rhythm with yours. For the first time since you’d walked in, he wasn’t shaking as badly.

“This suit jacket,” he muttered after a pause. His metal fingers twitched against the fabric at his arm. “It’s too fuckin’ tight. They always are with my arm—”

His breath stuttered, his body tensing again. Immediately, you leaned in, close enough for him to feel your warmth. “Just breathe, remember? You’re doing so well. One more thing you can feel.”

Barnes swallowed thickly. His gaze flickered down, just briefly, before settling back on your face. 

“You,” he admitted, voice quieter now. “I can feel you. Touching my face.”

“Good.” You nodded, thumb gliding over his cheek again. “Are you okay with that?”

“Yes.” He exhaled, and for the first time, it wasn’t shaky. “It feels… it feels nice.”

Something in your chest clenched at the confession, but you pushed it aside. You smiled at him, soft and small, and kept going. “Now, three things you can see.”

Barnes’ eyes scanned over your face, searching.

“You,” he said, still quiet, still certain. His gaze lingered on your mouth. “Your lipstick is smudged.”

"Two more," you breathed, keeping your voice calm and steady, resisting the urge to comment on why your lipstick was smudged in the first place. No need to remind him of that right now.

Barnes' gaze flickered across the small, dimly lit restroom. His body had almost fully relaxed now, his mind preoccupied with the task you'd given him.

"Uh…" He scanned the space, brows furrowing in concentration. "The awful wallpaper… and the sink, I guess?"

You nodded approvingly, finally withdrawing your hands as you eased back onto your knees. The cold tiles bit through the fabric of your dress, but you barely noticed.

"Well done," you murmured. "Now, how about we keep breathing and get you sorted, huh?"

At that, Barnes stiffened slightly. The panic that had been receding just moments ago flickered in his eyes again, his hands twitching where they rested on his thighs.

You reached out, grounding him with a gentle touch to his knee. Your voice softened even further. "I’m going to turn around and face the door. I need you to clean yourself up—use the sink, use the soap."

His throat bobbed. "But my—my boxers, they’ll get all wet—"

"There’s a dryer on the wall, see it?" You tilted your head toward the small, dingy dryer meant for hands. "Use it to dry them. Then get dressed, and we’ll head back to the hotel early, okay? Order some shitty takeaway, watch bad TV. Just forget about all this for tonight. How does that sound?"

Barnes blinked as if thrown by the simplicity of the offer. His mouth parted, closed, then opened again, his voice small. "Yeah. Okay."

"Good." You flashed him a reassuring smile before pressing your palms against the sink, pushing yourself to your feet with a small wobble in your heels. "I’ll be right here. Just let me know if you need anything. Keep breathing, alright? Everything’s okay."

Turning, you crossed your arms over your chest and faced the door, giving him the privacy he needed. You tried not to listen too closely. Tried not to glance at the mirror reflecting the scene behind you.

The rustle of clothing filled the quiet, then the tap sputtered to life. You leant your forehead against the cool wood of the door, closing your eyes as you focused on the steady stream of water, the faint squeak of the soap pump, and then the soft sloshing and scrubbing of fabric.

The sound of fabric wringing out echoed softly against the tiled walls, followed by the steady hum of the hand dryer sputtering to life. You kept your forehead against the door, listening as Barnes manoeuvred through the motions, drying his boxers first, then his suit pants. The wet fabric slapped lightly against the metal dryer as he held it up, shifting awkwardly as he worked.

You didn’t rush him. Didn’t make a sound. Just stayed where you were, giving him time.

Eventually, the rustling stopped. A sharp inhale, then the familiar slide of fabric as he pulled his clothes back on. The quiet click of a belt buckle being fastened. The creak of leather shoes shifting against tile.

Then—

Barnes cleared his throat.

You turned.

He stood stiffly, suit now back in place, though the fabric still carried faint traces of dampness. His jacket was slightly askew, his tie loosened just enough to be noticeable. You took a slow step toward him, scanning him up and down with a careful eye. He didn’t flinch, didn’t move—just stood there, watching you warily, as if expecting a comment.

You didn’t give him one.

Instead, you reached up, grasping the edges of his tie. He stiffened but let you work, your fingers smoothing the silk fabric, tightening it properly against his collar. His pulse thrummed beneath your fingertips as you brushed against his throat, and though he remained still, you caught the way his breath hitched slightly at the contact.

“There,” you murmured, satisfied.

You turned towards the mirror, angling yourself slightly to the side. Your reflection was a mess—lipstick smudged, hair slightly dishevelled. You sighed, wetting your thumb with your tongue before dabbing at the edges of the stain, then reached into your clutch to pull out a small tube of lipstick.

Barnes hadn’t moved.

You could feel him behind you, his body heat pressing against your back in the cramped space. His gaze was heavy, following your movements as you leaned closer to the mirror, carefully reapplying the pigment to your lips. You didn’t look at him. You just smoothed the colour in place, pressed your lips together, then capped the tube and tucked it back into your bag.

Finally, you met his eyes in the mirror.

“Ready to go?” you asked.

There was a pause. A hesitation. His jaw clenched for half a second before he gave the smallest of nods. “…Yeah.”

You turned fully, flashing him a small, knowing smile before reaching for his arm. He didn’t resist when you looped yours through his, guiding him towards the door. With an easy tug, you led him forward, your heels clicking softly against the marble floors. His arm remained tense beneath your touch, but he didn’t pull away. Didn’t let go.

You glanced at him briefly, lips twitching into a small smirk. “C’mon, sergeant. Let’s get out of here.”

Barnes exhaled through his nose, shaking his head ever so slightly. But when you reached the bottom of the stairs, he followed without question, letting you steer him towards the exit, away from the crowded room—away from prying eyes.

—

A small, muffled whine stirred you from sleep. You blinked groggily, rolling onto your side as the cool sheets tangled around your legs. The plush hotel mattress dipped beneath you as you buried your face into the pillow, willing yourself back into slumber.

A low, panting groan cut through the silence, soft at first, then growing in volume. Your brows knit together, heart thrumming uneasily. Something about the sound was… strange. It wasn’t just a groan—it was strained, needy. Erotic.

Your eyes snapped open.

The room was cloaked in darkness, save for the dim red dot of the fire alarm and the faint reflection of the turned-off TV. You remained frozen for a few beats, your ears straining to catch the noise again. It came, louder this time—a choked whimper thick with desperation.

Was someone in the room? Adrenaline slammed into your veins as you rolled off the bed in one swift motion, bare feet hitting the floor without a sound. You had heard stories of creeps breaking into hotel rooms, preying on women while they slept. Had one made the mistake of picking yours?

Another sound. Low, breathy, utterly wrecked.

Your hand darted to the bedside table, fingers curling around the hilt of a knife, its leather grip smooth beneath your palm. Not even yours, Barnes’—

Barnes.

Your breath caught as your gaze snapped towards the couch, knife slipping from your grip and landing on the carpet with a soft thud.

There, bathed in shadows, was the writhing mass of the super soldier. His blankets lay discarded on the floor as though he’d tossed them off in his sleep. The two of you had agreed to take turns—one in the bed, the other on the couch—to keep up appearances. A stupid arrangement, courtesy of Fury and Stark’s meddling.

You flicked on the bedside lamp. The warm light spilt over the room, casting soft amber hues onto Barnes’ form. His face was twisted in torment, and his lips parted around quiet, breathless whimpers. Sweat clung to his skin, catching the glow of the lamp and highlighting the sharp lines of his body. His metal arm whirred faintly as he twitched, fingers flexing against the cushions.

Your stomach dropped when your eyes drifted lower. He was shirtless, his broad chest rising and falling erratically. The thin fabric of his boxers did little to hide the evidence of his dream—more than half-hard beneath the cotton. Was he really that big?

The realisation hit like a freight train.

He was having a sex dream.

Jesus.

You swallowed, throat suddenly dry. You should’ve looked away, should’ve given him privacy. But then his hand twitched, drifting downward—

“Barnes.” Your voice was sharp, cutting through the haze like a blade.

He jolted awake, body seizing as his eyes snapped open. For a moment, he was utterly lost, chest heaving, pupils blown wide with confusion. Then his gaze landed on you—standing there in your thin nightgown, face unreadable.

His eyes flickered downward.

Bucky sucked in a sharp breath, panic flickering across his face as he yanked a pillow over his lap, shifting awkwardly as if that would somehow erase what had just happened. A string of curses left his lips, voice still wrecked with sleep.

You tilted your head, studying him. His expression wavered, part shame, part something else, something raw and vulnerable. You exhaled slowly, pressing your fingers into your temples. There was a pattern here. A man whose body wasn’t his own, whose skin felt foreign, whose touch-starved existence had left him unravelling at the seams.

What in God's name was Fury thinking sending him on a mission like this—or did Fury not know? How could he not? That one-eyed bastard had a habit of knowing everything. Hell, he probably knew the colour of your underwear before you even picked it out for the day, the all-seeing prick.

“H.Y.D.R.A really did a number on you, didn’t they?” you muttered.

Bucky flinched. The words struck deep, sinking into something fragile beneath the surface. He didn’t say a word, just recoiled, fingers gripping the pillow so tightly his knuckles turned white. A moment later, he was scrambling off the couch, making a beeline for the bathroom.

“Barnes, we’re not doing this again. Let’s just talk—”

The door slammed.

Then, the soft click of the lock.

You exhaled through your nose, arms crossing over your chest as you stared at the wooden barrier now separating you. Asshole. You knew you should’ve been more sympathetic. Should’ve handled it differently. But after a long, exhausting day, dealing with Bucky Barnes’ second puberty was not on your list of priorities.

You stepped closer, pressing a palm against the door; your voice quieter now. “I know how you’re feeling.”

Silence.

You could picture him inside, hunched over on the edge of the bathtub, fists clenched, chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven breaths. “I understand what it’s like to be in a body that doesn’t feel like your own.”

A pause. No response.

“It must be hard,” you continued softly. “Not knowing who you are. Not recognising yourself anymore. And then... feeling things you don’t understand.”

Another pause. This one stretched longer.

“You shouldn’t be ashamed of trying to navigate that.” The silence that followed was heavier than before. You didn’t push, didn’t say anything else. Just rested your forehead against the doorframe, waiting. 

You had spent the better part of your life under the Red Room’s control, under Dreykov’s control. Every breath you took, every move you made, had been dictated by someone else. Orders given. Orders followed. It was all you had ever known. And then, one day, it was gone. Just like that.

You remembered the moment with eerie clarity: standing in the open air, staring out at the horizon, the sunset bleeding colour into a sky that suddenly felt too vast. The question had gnawed at you, quiet but insistent. What comes next? Who comes next? Because you didn’t know. You didn’t know who you were beyond a weapon, beyond a machine engineered for death and seduction. Two decades of programming, of conditioning, of being nothing more than an asset to be wielded and discarded at will. And then, without warning, you were handed something you were told was freedom.

But what did freedom mean when you didn’t exist?

There were no real records of your birth, no true identity to reclaim. The Red Room had scrubbed that away long ago, erasing every trace of the girl you had once been. No family. No home. No belongings that weren’t issued to you by those who had owned you. And yet, you were expected to smile—to accept this newfound autonomy without question, to embrace the illusion of a life you had no blueprint for.

But how could you, when you weren’t sure if the body you inhabited was even your own?

So even if Barnes thought you were bluffing and just trying to relate for the sake of kindness, he was wrong. Because you understood.

Terrifyingly well.

The difference was that you had refused to let it consume you. You had forced those feelings into the farthest corners of your mind, locking them away where they couldn’t touch you. Because if you let yourself linger on them for too long.

“Go back to sleep.” Bucky’s voice finally broke the silence, muffled through the bathroom door.

You sucked on your teeth, exhaling sharply through your nose. “Yeah, not happening.”

“I know the others give you crap about not dating, but you don’t have to let them pressure you,” you continued, keeping your tone light. “You don’t have to force yourself into a role that makes you uncomfortable. It takes time.”

“Back in the day..." His voice was quieter this time, tinged with something that almost sounded like regret. “I used to be a real flirt.”

A humourless smirk ghosted across your lips. You could picture it, all smooth charm and effortless confidence. The kind of man who could wink at a girl across a dance floor and have her swooning in seconds. But that wasn’t the man behind this door. That man had been stripped away, piece by piece. 

“I just don’t know anymore,” he admitted, voice raw. Your chest tightened. You could almost hear him weighing his words, picking them apart, and deciding how much of himself he was willing to give away.

“When I was the Winter Soldier... they made me do things.”

A slow, twisting knot formed in your stomach.

“It’s all… fractured in my mind,” he murmured, barely above a whisper. “Scattered. Broken.”

You closed your eyes and inhaled deeply.

“I’m sorry,” you said, and you meant it. “I understand that. More than anyone. The Red Room… they didn’t just use us for assassinations and espionage.”

There. You had said it. Pulled a piece of yourself from the grave and placed it between you.

For the first time, the door cracked open.

Bucky stood there, dishevelled and breathless, still only in his boxers. A faint sheen of sweat clung to his skin, catching the dim hotel light, while his metal arm twitched slightly at his side. His hair was a mess—damp and curling at the ends, sticking to his forehead. His chest rose and fell unevenly, as if he hadn’t quite caught his breath, muscles taut beneath the weight of exhaustion.

“Why are you being kind to me?” he asked suddenly. His voice was rough, tinged with suspicion, as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

You tilted your head, studying him.

“Because you’re hurting,” you said simply. “And obviously, you haven’t fully processed any of this.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. Without another word, he turned and stalked past you, out of the cramped bathroom and into the main space of the hotel room. You followed at a slower pace, arms crossed as you watched him sink onto the couch, scrubbing a hand down his face. He was hunched forward, elbows resting on his knees, his metal fingers tapping restless patterns against his flesh palm. His body had settled now, no longer betraying him with signs of arousal. That part of the moment had passed, but the turmoil in his head remained.

With a quiet sigh, you slid down to the floor, settling against the base of the bed across from him. Your legs stretched out in front of you, arms loose at your sides as you let the silence settle between you. 

“Have you spoken to Steve about this?” you asked after a moment, voice soft but firm. “Sam?”

Bucky scoffed, shaking his head. “God, no.”

“Why?”

“I dunno,” he muttered, fingers threading through his damp hair. “It’s just... awkward. I feel like a fuckin’ schoolboy.”

You tilted your head, watching him carefully. “I could teach you.”

His eyes snapped to you, wary. “What?”

“I could teach you,” you repeated, voice steady. “How to make love. Fuck. How to gain control over your life again. You’re just sensitive; you need a bit of exposure therapy.”

Bucky’s expression darkened, jaw clenching. “Why the hell would you do that?”

You exhaled slowly, gaze drifting to the patterned carpet beneath you. “Do you know how many men I’ve fucked and not felt a thing?” you said quietly, barely above a whisper. 

“I wasn’t just an assassin or a spy. Not like Natasha or Yelena. I was a swallow, Barnes. A honeytrap.” His expression flickered, eyes scanning your face as if searching for something, some hint of insincerity.

You swallowed, pushing forward. “It’s why Fury sent me on this mission with you. This is all I’ve ever known.”

Bucky’s breath hitched slightly, his hands curling into fists against his thighs. “Fury knows what they did to you, and he still continues to—”

“I agreed to it,” you cut in, your tone clipped, controlled. “He just wanted our sham marriage to be believable. He wasn’t asking me to fuck you, just to perform. That’s what I do. Perform.”

Bucky huffed a bitter laugh, shaking his head. 

“Look, I don’t know you,” he muttered, voice low, rough. “I don’t want your baggage, or for you to fuck me out of pity or... I don’t know, self-sabotage.”

The words hit like a slap, sharper than you expected. You recoiled—actually flinched—before you could stop yourself. It wasn’t just what he said, it was the venom in it, the way he threw it at you like a blade meant to wound. And damn it, it did.

Bucky saw it, too. The way your shoulders stiffened, the flicker of something raw crossing your face before you forced it away. His breath hitched slightly, fingers twitching at his side, but he didn’t take it back. Didn’t soften the blow. Maybe he regretted it, maybe he didn’t, but either way, the damage was done.

Your expression hardened like cooling steel, every crack that had formed between you quickly sealing shut, any semblance of vulnerability buried beneath layers of carefully placed armour. It was instinct—second nature, really. You’d spent years perfecting the art of locking yourself away, of making sure no one could reach the parts of you that still bled. You’d built it, brick by fucking brick, until you were fully encased, isolated from anything that might harm you. 

Bucky wasn’t the first to speak to you like that. Wouldn’t be the last.

You swallowed down the sting, inhaled slow and deep through your nose, and then let it out in a steady breath. When you spoke again, your voice was quiet, devoid of emotion, a perfect imitation of indifference. “It was just an offer.”

Nothing more. Nothing less.

You held his gaze for a second longer, searching for something, anything, that might suggest he regretted it. But Bucky just stared back, face unreadable, jaw tight. Then, without another word, he turned away, stretching out on the couch with his back to you.

Fine. Message received.

—

The rest of the week had been nothing short of torturous. After the argument, the air between you and Bucky had turned to ice. The two of you barely spoke. Not outside of necessity, not outside of the roles you had to play. At the gala, he did what was required—he held you close, leant into your touch when needed, murmured sweet nothings in your ear to sell the lie. But you felt the restraint in him, the hesitance in the way he brushed a thumb over your knuckles, the barely-there tremors in his fingers when he smoothed a hand over your waist. It wasn’t as if he was walking on hot coals anymore, but there was still that same, underlying hesitation.

Back at the hotel, the silence stretched long and unbearable. Shower, eat, sleep—repeat. Conversations were reduced to one-word exchanges, curt and impersonal. At least by morning, this miserable charade would be over. You’d gathered the intel you needed at the gala, and in a few hours, you’d be free of this place. Free of this suffocating, awkward tension. Free from Bucky’s constant, looming presence. 

God, the man had a staring problem.

You had noticed it before, how he always seemed lost in thought, his gaze heavy with some unreachable burden. You had assumed it was just brooding, the kind of silent, empty-headed angst that men like him fell victim to. But now you realised—he wasn’t staring through you. He was staring at you.

You saw it when you dressed for the gala, slipping into silken dresses and heels, when you pinned your hair into elegant styles, when you traced the lines of your lips with lipstick, perfecting the illusion. You’d catch his reflection in the mirror, eyes fixed on you, dark and unreadable.

Once, he had been so caught up in his daze that he nearly left without putting on his suit jacket. You had to press it into his hands, dragging him out of whatever spell he was under. He had taken it stiffly, mumbling a quiet ‘thanks’ but the heat in his face was unmistakable.

And now, as you sat cross-legged on the bed in a loose nightgown, the fabric riding high on your thighs, the same damn stare was drilling into the side of your face.

The TV flickered before you, an incoherent blur of colours and sound. You weren’t even sure it was in English. It didn’t matter. You weren’t watching it anyway. You were too focused on not focusing on Bucky, who stared at the side of your face like he intended to burn a hole through the flesh.

You exhaled sharply through your nose, running your thumb over your knee. The sheets were soft, the mattress more forgiving than the couch you’d been forced to sleep on last night. At least tonight was your turn back on the bed, though ideally, you’d be back in your own apartment by now, wrapped in high-thread-count luxury courtesy of Tony Stark’s absurd wealth.

God, you missed Egyptian cotton.

Bucky was still staring at you. You couldn’t help it, annoyance, filthy and venomous came pouring out of your mouth before you could stop it. “What? Is there something on my face?”

Bucky startled, his whole body tensing as if you had physically struck him.

“Nothing—” he stammered.

You arched a brow, unimpressed.

“No. There’s obviously something you want to say.” You shifted on the bed, your frustration mounting. “Go on, spit it out.”

He hesitated, his jaw working like he was biting down on whatever words were lodged in his throat.

You didn’t let up. “You sure had a lot to say earlier in the week. What, do you want to dig the knife in further? You might as well just call me a whore while you’re at it—”

“I’m sorry.” Bucky cut over you, his head dipping. You paused, momentarily stunned. He was doing that thing again, where he looked like a scolded dog. Adorable, but not the fucking time.“I shouldn’t have said that, it was inconsiderate of me, especially after... after all you’ve done.”

You frowned. “You don’t owe me anything, Barnes.” The words left your lips quieter this time, but still firm. 

“I snapped at you. And I shouldn’t have.” he admitted. His voice was low, restrained.

You let out a slow breath, pressing your fingers to your temple.

“It’s okay. I understand,” you said, a little softer. “I haven’t exactly been… the kindest either.”

A bitter chuckle escaped him, his fingers twitching against his knee. Then, after a long pause, he asked, “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Act like everything is okay. Like it’s normal.” His voice was strained, like he wasn’t even sure if he believed in what he was asking.

You let out a short, almost nervous laugh. “I’m probably not the best person to ask about this—”

“But you get it, right?” He looked at you now, something almost desperate in his gaze. “To not know… who or what you are? Sometimes I… I just want to be normal again.”

You frown deeply, weighing his words carefully. You understood his sentiment, but you knew it was futile. There had never been anything normal about your life—not anything you could remember, at least. The Red Room had seen to that. Your earliest memories were of drills, of ballet, of suffocating discipline, and of the erasure of self. Even now, you weren’t normal; you were an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D for fucks sake, a woman barely pardoned of her crimes, existing in a liminal space. The world's governments couldn’t quite confirm you existed. You were a ghost, a fucking shadow of a person. 

“I don’t think people like us get to be normal,” you said finally, choosing your words carefully.

His expression twisted slightly, like he had already known that answer but had hoped for something different.

“But I think,” you continued, “it would serve you a world of good if you let people in. Steve… Sam. You don’t have to face this all alone—Natasha, Yelena, and I look to each other all the time to process it all and patch together the missing pieces. There’s no shame in it.”

Bucky’s face creased, his body drawing in on itself slightly. You moved before he could shrink further, slipping off the bed and kneeling before him. 

“It’s okay,” you reassured, voice steady. “Just tell me... what is it you need right now?”

His lips parted slightly, then pressed into a thin line. He fidgeted, his fingers clenching and unclenching as if struggling to force out something that had been sitting at the edge of his tongue all week.

Finally, he exhaled, jaw tight.

“I want to take you up on your offer.”

You tilted your head. “My offer?”

Bucky swallowed, eyes flickering to the floor before darting back to you. His voice was hesitant, low—like he was worried some invisible presence might have overheard. “Lessons. Lessons in… love-making. I want to be able to look at a girl without... you know. This fucking week has been torture seeing you—”

He cut himself off, warmth flooding to his cheeks. A laugh bubbled out of you before you could stop it—light, amused, genuine.

Bucky stiffened, eyes widening slightly, horror flashing across his face as if he thought you were mocking him.

You shook your head quickly, reaching out to place a hand on his knee.

“Of course,” you murmured, smiling. “Thought you’d never ask.”

—

“Is this okay?” you asked softly as you swung your leg over, settling onto Bucky’s lap. The mattress dipped beneath you both, the quiet creak of the hotel bed the only sound between you for a moment. He sat beneath you, legs slightly spread, his hands hovering uncertainly at his sides. You dug your knees into the bed on either side of his thighs, anchoring yourself against him.

His breath hitched, sharp and uneven. “Yes,” he murmured, though there was a noticeable tremor in his voice, like he was still convincing himself.

“Just breathe,” you encouraged, smoothing your hands over his broad shoulders. His muscles were tense beneath your fingertips, wound tight like coiled steel. He swallowed hard.

“What’s worrying you?” You asked gently. “Is there something I can do to make this more comfortable for you?”

Bucky shook his head, a shuddering breath leaving him as his hands finally found purchase on your hips. His grip was hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed to hold you. “No,” he said, his voice rough. 

“This is great, I—” He cut himself off, pressing his lips together in frustration.

You tilted your head, studying him, before offering a reassuring smile. Your fingers kneaded into his shoulders in slow, soothing motions, attempting to melt away some of the tension knotted there. “Talk to me,” you coaxed.

His gaze flickered downward, shame creeping into his expression. “I just… don’t want to embarrass myself. Again.”

Your heart clenched at his vulnerability, but you refused to let him linger in self-doubt. Instead, you leant in, your lips curling in a playful smile. 

“You’re cute when you say things like that,” you teased, running your tongue over your lower lip before continuing. “Don’t worry about any of that. Just stay here, in this moment, with me.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched, but he obeyed, focusing on the warmth of your body pressed against his. Slowly, his grip tightened on your hips, fingers kneading into the flesh more firmly this time. His thumbs traced cautious circles against the fabric of your clothing, testing. You let your hands drift from his shoulders down to his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

“Now,” you murmured, keeping your tone soft but steady, “if you get overwhelmed, or if you need to stop, what do you say?”

“Stop,” Bucky answered without hesitation.

“Good,” you praised, smiling warmly. “And if you can’t speak? If the words won’t come?”

His fingers flexed on your hip before he squeezed in a deliberate rhythm—three distinct beats. You nodded in approval. “Perfect.”

His blue eyes flickered up to meet yours, searching. 

“What about you?” he asked, his voice quieter now, more earnest. “If you want to stop?”

You demonstrated by tapping three times against his chest, just over his heart.

“I’ll do the same thing,” you assured him. “Just like we discussed.”

For a moment, he just breathed. His lashes fluttered as he exhaled a slow, measured breath, his hands steadying against you. Then, with a small, almost imperceptible nod, he whispered, “I’m… I’m ready. I think.”

You smiled, fingers tracing a soft, reassuring path along his jaw. 

“Okay. I thought we’d start with kissing, since you seem worried about it. Nice and simple, no pressure,” you murmured, your voice low and reassuring as your fingertips ghosted along his jawline. Bucky swallowed thickly, his adam’s apple bobbing as he leaned into your palm without thinking, nuzzling it like a touch-starved thing. His blue eyes, dark as the ocean in a brewing storm, flickered with something hesitant, something fragile.

“I’m sure you kissed plenty of girls back in the day,” you teased, lips curling as you brushed your thumb over the sharp edge of his cheekbone.

“Oh yeah,” he exhaled, the words dipped in self-deprecation, “until Steve became… well, the Steve he is now. None of the girls spared me a second glance after that.”

You let out a soft laugh, breathy and genuine, and felt the way his body tensed beneath you at the sensation. It was funny how a man who could tear through steel and strike terror into the hearts of the world’s deadliest enemies could turn so shy at something as simple as your laughter.

“You know…” he hesitated, voice quieter now. “You were my first kiss since… well, everything.”

Your teasing grin faltered slightly. You tilted your head, gaze flicking between his eyes and his lips, close enough now that you could feel the steady heat radiating from his skin. 

“Well,” you murmured, the ghost of a smirk curling your lips as you shifted closer, “now I’ll be your second too.”

And then you kissed him.

It was slow at first, a testing press of your lips against his, feather-light and coaxing. Bucky inhaled sharply through his nose, his breath hitching as though he was bracing for impact. But when you didn’t pull away, when you lingered just a little longer, he melted into you—hesitant at first, but eager.

His hands, large and trembling slightly, hesitated at your waist before gripping your thighs as if he wasn’t sure whether to hold you or let you slip away. The warmth of his palms bled through the thin fabric of your nightgown, spreading across your skin like wildfire.

You deepened your kiss, tilting your head to slot your lips more firmly against his, and a quiet sound rumbled in his chest—halfway between a sigh and a groan. Encouraged, you shifted, rocking your hips, the new position pressing your bodies flush together.

Bucky tensed beneath you, fingers digging into your flesh instinctively as you settled against him. His own hips bucked in response, and you could already feel him growing hard against your inner thigh. He pulled back slightly, panting, his lips swollen.

“Am I doing… okay?” he asked, his voice rough.

You smiled, smoothing a hand through his dark hair, tugging him gently forward again. 

“More than okay,” you whispered against his lips before capturing them once more.

This time, he kissed you back without hesitation. His hands gripped your hips, anchoring himself to you as he parted his lips, following your lead. You swept your tongue into his mouth, slow and purposeful, teasing along his lower lip before deepening it. A groan rumbled in his chest, muffled against your mouth.

You rolled your hips, grinding against him with a slow, deliberate rhythm, savouring the way his breath hitched and stuttered beneath you. Even through the layers of clothing, you could feel him—hard, straining, likely aching for more. His fingers dug into your skin, a bruising grip that only added to the heat blooming in your core.

You pulled away from his lips, shifting your attention lower, trailing open-mouthed kisses along his jaw, down his neck. You could feel his pulse hammering beneath your lips, quick and erratic. He tipped his head back, surrendering himself to your touch, a quiet curse slipping from his mouth as you sucked at the sensitive skin below his ear.

“You’re doing so well,” you hummed against his skin, your voice warm and indulgent, laced with soft praise. His body trembled beneath you as he bucked his hips up to meet yours, desperate for more friction, more of you. You rewarded him with a soft, breathy moan, letting him know just how much you enjoyed this too.

“I—” He tried to form words, but they crumbled before they left his lips.

The tension in his body coiled tighter and tighter, like a bowstring pulled taut, ready to snap. His hands clutched at you, grounding himself in the sensation, like the overwhelming pleasure was building too fast for him to control. His breath came in short, needy gasps, his hips stuttering as he lost the rhythm.

“I’m gonna—” His voice broke, his head tilting forward as his entire body tensed beneath you. A strangled moan escaped him, deep and wrecked, as he came undone. His grip on your hips tightened, his thighs trembling slightly beneath yours as his climax overtook him. His body fell back against the sheets, a soft exhale leaving his lips as the last waves of pleasure wracked through him.

You perched above him, still straddling his hips. For a moment, he just lay there, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggled to catch his breath. His eyes were half-lidded, dazed, and his lips parted as if he had more to say but couldn’t quite form the words.

“I didn’t mean to finish so early—” he started, his voice hoarse, cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and lingering pleasure. Leaning over, you flipped your hair to one side as your face hovered over his. You silenced him with a lingering kiss, slow and reassuring. He groaned softly into your mouth, still sensitive but already melting into the warmth of your lips. When you pulled away, his shoulders had loosened, the rigid tension gone from his body.

“You did so well,” you murmured, brushing your fingers through his hair. “How do you feel?”

“Good.” 

You grinned, sliding off him and stretching languidly before settling back onto the bed. You exhaled, content. Bucky turned his head to look at you, still slightly frozen in place, as if unsure what to do next. His brows furrowed slightly. “What… what about you? Don’t you want to…?”

You snorted. “That doesn’t matter. This was about you, not me.”

He hesitated, clearly still unused to receiving something without feeling obligated to return it. “But I feel bad leaving you—”

“I’m fine, trust me.” You hummed, closing your eyes as you nestled into the warmth of his arm. “We have a long way to go before you need to be thinking about that.”

Bucky went quiet. You could feel his gaze lingering on you, unreadable.

For a moment, you weren’t sure if he would say anything at all. But then, after a beat of silence, you felt him shift beside you. A hesitant hand—warm and slightly calloused—ghosted over your arm before settling on your waist, drawing you in closer.

“…Thank you,” he murmured at last.

PART TWO

[mysticalcrowntyrant]

Rancher Yandere x Reader (Gn)

Warnings: Abuse, kidnapping, average yandere behavior

“You’re gorgeous,” Reeves drawled, his big hazel eyes gazing up at you. If anyone had happened to catch a glimpse of the two of you, they’d likely have smiled at the sight. Him kneeling before you, chin resting on your thighs, while your fingers wandered through his messy chestnut curls. But they probably wouldn’t have noticed the metal chains around your ankles or the barred windows. They sure wouldn’t have seen the tears threatening to spill from your eyes or the ugly bruise blossoming on your cheek. But Reeves noticed. How could he not? He was the one who’d snatched you off that dusty Southern Road. The one who’d kept you here for weeks, caged like a lamb for slaughter. 

“Sweetheart?” Reeves murmured, purring like a kitten. “You ain’t smilin’.” 

You swallowed hard, brows knitting together as you forced your lips into a pitiful excuse for a smile. He liked it when you were sweet. Reeves watched your face, his gaze locking onto your dry lips. Slowly, like he was approaching a skittish critter, he brought his fingers to them. He slipped a finger inside your mouth, making your bottom lip droop. He tasted like dirt and copper. “You gonna smile for me, Sweetheart?” His frown deepened, eyes turning suddenly cold. “Or am I gonna have to teach you again?” 

You shivered and shook your head quickly. “I’m sorry.” 

Reeves sighed, his expression softening just enough to mask the darkness lurking behind it. “That’s better,” he said, drawing his finger back and wiping it on his jeanst. “Now, I’ve got to feed the cows, but you stay put, alright? Don’t go wanderin’ off.” 

You nodded, your heart racing as he stood and strode away, his boots thudding heavily on the wooden floor. The moment his back turned, the weight of your despair settled in, heavy and suffocating. The air felt thick around you. You had been planning this escape for weeks, each day loosening the bars on the window, each moment spent quietly chipping away at the chains that bound you. You had to do it tonight. 

After counting to one hundred, you approached the window. The creaking sound echoed like a gunshot in the stillness, amplifying your fear, your pulse quickening in response. With trembling hands, you grasped the edge of the window, forcing it open wider. The cool night air washed over your skin, a stark contrast to the stale, confined atmosphere of the farmhouse. It felt like freedom itself, invigorating and electric. You took a deep breath, filling your lungs with the scent of damp earth and wildflowers. 

You slipped through the gap, heart pounding as you landed softly in the grass. You ran through the fields, the cool blades brushing against your legs. The moon hung low in the sky, illuminating your path, guiding you toward the promise of escape. The rhythm of your feet against the ground matched the frantic beat of your heart, a melody of desperation and hope intertwining. When you reached the fence marking the edge of his ranch, a flare of hope ignited within you. You could almost taste freedom, a sweet, tantalizing possibility. You were almost there. Your heart soared, urging you to leap over the barrier that separated you from the world outside. But just as you prepared to launch yourself over the top of the fence, you felt arms wrap around you, a vice grip that slammed you to the ground. The air rushed from your lungs, and the world blurred for a moment before sharpening into the harsh reality of your situation. 

“Shit!” you gasped, panic coursing through you as you struggled against his hold. His eyes blazed with fury. 

“Thought you could just run away, huh?” he growled, his voice low and menacing, dragging you back towards the farmhouse by your hair. You screamed, the sound echoing in the stillness, but the emptiness of the night swallowed your cries, leaving you feeling even more isolated. 

He secured your chains even tighter, the metal biting into your skin like a cruel reminder of your captivity. “No more walks, no more fun,” he spat, his voice laced with rage. “You need to learn your place.” Each word felt like a blow, striking at your heart and shattering any remnants of hope you clung to. 

He turned away, and the silence that followed felt suffocating, a heavy blanket wrapping around you. As despair washed over you, the tears you’d held back finally spilled over, hot and unrelenting. You sank to the floor, sobs wracking your body. 

Suddenly, Reeves was there, his presence looming like a storm cloud, dark and oppressive. He knelt beside you, those big hazel eyes softening momentarily. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest, his heartbeat steady and strong. 

“Shh, it’s alright,” he murmured, his voice soothing in an unsettling way, the kind of comfort that felt like it could just as easily turn to violence. “I’m here, Sweetheart. You just got a little too wild, that’s all.” 

You felt your body tense, the dichotomy of his embrace and the chains that bound you causing your heart to shatter further. How could he be so tender and yet so cruel? The sobs turned into quiet whimpers as you melted into him, the warmth of his body conflicting with the cold reality. You wanted to recoil, to push him away, but every fiber of your being felt trapped in this paradox. 

He stroked your hair gently, the gesture both tender and invasive, whispering reassurances that felt like lies. “We’re gonna be just fine, you and me. I won’t let you go again. I promise.” The words dripped with a false sweetness that made your skin crawl. 

But as you clung to him, your heart heavy with the truth, you realized that in his twisted version of love, you were never meant to be free. You were his. Forever.

Masterlist

[chuluoyi]

MARRIED ON PURPOSE

- gojo satoru x reader

"for one, i can show you incredible things!" jujutsu, madness, heaven, sin. the strongest sorcerer is sure to show you all of that during the whole duration of your six-month marriage contract.

genre/warnings: marriage of convenience, enemies to lovers, crack, fluff, slight satosugu angst/comfort, kamo!reader, very suggestive. gojo clan is portrayed as very traditional, meanwhile kamo clan is rather unpleasant here

note: the unholy amount of times i've edited this story *sigh* but okay i must drop it here or else i'm going to keep editing it and losing my mind. despite my misgivings and all, i really had fun writing this and i hope you enjoy it! wc. 5k !

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

general masterlist

Some would say... marrying Gojo Satoru would be living the dream.

“Don't look that sour now, wife.”

“…sigh.”

A playful nudge at your side, a lighthearted voice— “You're going to make them question our veeery happy marriage, you know… We don't want that now, do we?”

But to you, it was more like nightmare dressed in a daydream.

It was peak comedy because why would you put marrying Gojo Satoru in your life plans? He was incorrigible, a child trapped in a man's body, and there was also the very fact that you hate him. His only redeeming trait was being born in the esteemed Gojo clan, and now held the title of the strongest.

You know you must have accumulated karma, but out of everything else, why must you end up in this predicament?

Hailing from the great clans of jujutsu society, both of you know well that marriage is the essence to make the clan greater. And when it involves the big three clans, its importance amplifies even further.

It was just that you two were too rebellious to follow it through, for one reason or another. Everyone knows Gojo Satoru was faithless to any woman, and you were not exactly thrilled with the idea of marriage as a whole.

He was the one who came to you, proposing this insane idea of a temporary marriage.

"Look at it this way," Satoru said with a wry grin, contrasting your puzzled frown on that fateful afternoon. "It's either me or Zen'in Naoya for you, isn't it? It's so clear which is the better man."

That was what grated you the most. You would be damned if you married the misogynist.

"What do you get from this arrangement, really?" you questioned begrudgingly.

His name would give you security, stop the harassment from your clan, and maybe even a better life, but you didn't quite get what he'd get from the offer he willingly extended to you.

Satoru flippantly shrugged. "Nah, you are not exactly my type, but you're still far better than the boring puppet my family have considered to be my wife."

"Who?"

"Don't remember her name. All she goes on about is that she'll be the good wife and mother of my child. Ew."

Seven hells. You scowled. Gojo Satoru and his penchant for chasing the thrill. Boring women would kill him before an actual curse would.

"And hey, for one," he shot you a smirk, visibly smug. "I can show you incredible things!"

"That's not the point! Gojo, do you even realize—" your voice rose, pulsating with righteous fury, "—how serious all of this is? My life, your life! We're going to be stuck—together!"

"Six months," he blurted, tilting his head slightly. His sunglasses slipped down just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his sparkling eyes. "It's enough time to work through our shits, and by then if you have enough, we're through."

At that time, it seemed feasible. Both of you tolerating each other to avoid a much worse match.

. . .

BACK TO PRESENT—barely a week ever since you were paraded around as his wife, now you and Satoru were stiffly poised in the studio in your formal garbs, capturing your official wedding photos.

At that time, it seemed feasible, but now, it felt like a chore, as you realized that conversing with him either spiked your blood pressure so much that you wouldn't even be surprised if you ended up with hypertension or completely sapped your energy that you were left exhausted.

"Come on, show a smiiile," Satoru said in a sing-song voice, gesturing toward the camera as it flashed for the pictures. You were beyond appalled, shooting a glare in his direction.

"I am smiling, Gojo."

"Liar. You're pouting, wifey~"

Sigh… this really is going to be one hella of a ride, huh?

MONTH ONE, and you found out that Gojo Satoru is apparently as mad as people made him out to be.

"You've got to be kidding me!" you fumed, right after he hauled you into one of the rooms in his grand, traditional estate. Your glare pierced through him, a blood vessel ready to burst. "We never agreed on ‘consummating’ the marriage!"

You wrote him a goddamn contract. And the three conditions of this chaotic marriage are: one, it would only last six months; two, no personal feelings involved; and three, nothing borderline disturbing.

And this, you concluded, was the height of what could be called as disturbing.

"We will not," Satoru replied with a hint of disdain, grimacing, as if the notion didn't sit well with him either. The audacity! "We're just going to make it as if we are—"

"And why?! Why should I do that?!"

"Why else? Because my old fart believes that we indeed haven't done so."

"Then it's your fault? For failing to convince him? Why turn it into my problem!"

"Because, dear wife," he drawled, his tone taunting on the final note. "Now we're on the same page, in case you have forgotten."

Great clans and their hollow expectations spare no one, not even Gojo Satoru. They place importance in the most banal things, such as the continuity of sacred bloodlines and such.

The only alternative wasn't appealing either. Should you be found out that you married only to divorce... sigh, you didn't even want to know how big of a scandal it would be. One thing was certain: your clan would chop you to shreds.

You really had no choice, huh?

"Five minutes," you warned, glaring at him. "Make it loud. Make it so that no one wouldn't question this anymore."

Oh and sure he would. As Satoru pulled that shit-eating grin, you were in for another ride. You waited out until several maids were nearby, left the wooden door ajar, and began the show—

His hands wrapped around your waist—the feeling was peculiar, but you ignored it—and you let him pull you near that open door. He snuggled his face on your neck—his hair tickling you in the process, but you ignored that peculiarity again—as he started making suggestive noises. "Mm, you're so pretty, darling."

You could hear those maids gasp in surprise. And to add the flavor, you faked a moan.

This is... kinda fun? A twisted part of you suddenly found satisfaction in fooling the maids. A smile tugged at your lips as you shoved him away, and Satoru eyed you in surprise and irritation.

"Husband, you're... insatiable," you worded languidly, and he immediately caught on your act, grinning. "Anyone can walk by, you know."

"Oh? But that's the point." Satoru's bright blue eyes twinkled with utter mischief, and even you couldn't deny the exhilarating rush. "I want them to know."

And suddenly you got this very brilliant idea. You swiftly moved past him and sent the books and trinkets on his desk flying to the floor, causing questionable noises.

"Oh my!" a girlish voice exclaimed.

"The master! And the lady!"

Satoru shook his head, thoroughly entertained. And you rolled your eyes. Those nosy maids would finally have enough now, and this charade would end—

"What's happening here?"

The old fart. Both you and Satoru grunted in unison. You really thought you would leave it up to the maids to spread the word, but then you were taken by surprise when he wrapped his hands around you and flung the door open, slamming you against it—and damn it hurt!—offering everyone a front-row seat to your charade.

The maids squealed. His grandfather raised a righteous, demanding eyebrow. You wanted to scream.

"Hey, gramps," he greeted jovially, breathless, his grip on you tightening and you felt heat radiating from his palm. "Ah, sorry, opened it by accident—the wife here is feisty, you see."

Your veins felt ready to burst. Was this a part of his plan all along? How would you show your face before your grandfather-in-law now that he had seen this... atrocity?!

"So, yeah, we'll resume our business!" Satoru, the idiot, said it as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "See ya!"

With that the door slammed shut, but oh no, it was not the end.

"Mmmph!?" you protested, unintentionally loud and eyes widening in alarm when Satoru muffled your mouth with his hand.

The rotten bastard! You found it nearly impossible to breathe, shooting daggers at him. "Mmmrgh! Mmmrrgh!"

"Oh... so that boy really does it huh," you heard the elder mutter in thoughtful manner from outside—and you were in disbelief at how trusting he was—before rounding the stunned maids and barked, "What are all you doing here? Go!"

You nearly sagged with relief when Satoru loosened his grip slightly, allowing you to breathe, as his meddlesome grandpa finally stalked away. Done. This horrible act was over! But wait, why did he still had his hand on your mouth?

"That went splendidly!" he snickered, appearing rather pleased with what had unfolded. "Now, if only we work together like this more often—"

This is… my life now, you lamented the reality. The feeling of his calloused hand on you made you feel things, honestly speaking, but another emotion—and impulse—currently overpowered that.

Seething with resentment, you fiercely chomped down on his hand hard, causing him to swear and pull his hand out of you.

"You—you devil! You bit me!"

"Serves you right!"

Okay, he was bad. He was insufferable. But to be frank, sometimes it wasn't all chaos.

And what's more, by MONTH TWO, you realized that being married to Gojo Satoru also comes with several perks.

"Miss, please, you're trespassing—"

You looked at the police with the haughtiest look you could muster, unamused. "Don't you know who I am?"

"No, but it shouldn't—"

"I'm that man's wife," you declared regally, motioning towards a certain tall shuttlecock a few meters away. "Is that not clear enough for you?"

For one, no one can look down on you anymore, because should they try, you have the power to raise your chin high and declare yourself as the wife of the infamous sorcerer. The very moment you did, that nosy police stopped yapping, and let you through.

The cursed boy, Yuta and his classmate had just been trapped inside a barrier a curse user pulled down, and you were assigned to look into this case by the headquarters. As much as it boggled you—because certainly, the strongest sorcerer was enough to investigate this—you still had to do your job.

“What is this?” you asked Satoru, who was observing something far beyond what your measly ordinary eyes could see. “What happened here?”

He turned to you, all with bandaged eyes. “Hmm? Oh, you’re here too?”

“Don't act surprised. Answer my question, Gojo.”

"You’re too uptight, wifey," Satoru's lips curved upwards playfully. He had taken to addressing you with pet names as of late, if anything, only to get a rise out of you. "Isn't it the time for you to start calling me by my given name?"

You let out a weary exhale, exasperated. "I'm serious, did you find anything? Who is behind this?"

"Nah, nothing for you to worry about," Satoru waved his hand dismissively, grinning. "More importantly! Let's head back and have dinner! My treat!"

You weren't that oblivious. You noticed things too.

"What do you want tonight? Sukiyaki? Sushi?" he hummed nonchalantly. "Or shabu-shabu?"

You gave him the stink eye. "Is that all you think about? Food?"

"As a responsible husband, it's my duty to feed my wife, no?"

"News flash: temporary wife."

"But still my wife, regardless. I overheard you earlier. Being Mrs. Gojo is convenient, yeah?"

You ignored how a part of your jolted at the emphasis he placed on that word, grunting. "Nah, it's meh."

Call it a feeling or hypothesis. It was similar to how he treated his students. He always said the dumbest things, but it actually served to make them feel at ease.

Then it occurred to you, could this be actually his attempt to change the subject?

"You can't cheat your way out of this." You shot him a pointed look. "You know something. Tell me."

"Hmmm? And what would I get in return?"

"Don't make this difficult. I'm on this assignment too!"

"Nah, if you call me by my name, I might consider it."

Hah. You should really read a parenting book one of these days. Taking on your husband was more or less the same as facing a kid.

"Satoru," you tested, the name rolling out of your lips far easier than you thought. Somehow, using his given name felt like some sort of a leap of faith.

He stopped right in his tracks, turning to you. His glossy lips quirked into a meaningful smile, and you felt funny.

"Wasn't that difficult, was it?" he winked, and you covered the strange heat creeping onto your face by rolling your eyes and huffed.

Needless to say, he still didn't tell you even a clue. You finally gave up, thinking that if he insisted on not disclosing it, then so be it. You trusted him on this, even as he turned your help away, and you hated admitting it, because, well…

You’d trust him with your life. He knows how to handle this better than anyone.

Being a a woman in Kamo clan is, in fact, not any better than in Zen'in—you're regarded more as a commodity than a human being.

"When will you bear the child of the bearer of Six Eyes?" in your father's eyes, you were but a tool to tie the Gojo at his hip, and your worth probably wasn't even twice of Noritoshi's. You had known he would ask this when he summoned you to Kamo ancestral home, and you weren't that naive—you had asked Satoru to join you too. But your father had insisted him to stay at the foyer, while he dragged you into his chamber.

Just because you had seen it coming didn’t mean you liked it. "Is that all? Do you really make me come here just to ask me that?"

And what came next was like a crack of thunder.

"How insolent!"

You shuddered, hating how his voice still had control over you. You wanted to stay deviant, but you couldn't keep yourself from shaking. You thought you would have to endure this shit just like you did before, until—

"Now, now... That's my wife you're talking to. I'd watch your words, if I were you."

You had never whipped your head so fast.

There stood Gojo Satoru, your husband, in all his glory. He was smiling but it was clear that he was displeased, evident from his cutting remark, and most notably, how he had unveiled his striking cerulean eyes for all to see. Truth to be told, you didn't expect him to barge in here at all.

"Gojo-sama," your father bowed his head, displaying utter respect towards him, contrasting the blatant disrespect he showed towards you just now. Satoru paid him no heed, as took big strides towards you and seized your arm, prompting you to rise to your feet.

"What is this? Why are you yelling at her?" His voice lacked its usual hint of amusement or teasing, sending a chill down your spine.

"Gojo-sama, I apologize for my tone towards my daughter earlier. I was just trying to educate—"

“My wife. She is my wife now, and it would do you better to remember that,” Satoru asserted firmly, putting emphasis in the way he addressed you, his gaze hardening. "She is an adult. There's nothing left for you to educate her." Pausing, he added, "And the way I saw it, you were just unnecessarily rude."

"Gojo-sama, there were just certain things in our clan that—"

"Please, don't call on us again," Satoru interjected decisively with a light yet firm voice. You could swear your heart was somersaulting at the sight of him staring down your natural enemy. "I'm sure you're aware, but your daughter bears my name now, and she will get the respect she is due. I will have a word with anyone who fails to treat her accordingly."

Somehow or another, Satoru whisked you away from that hellhole, your hand tightly clasped in his. Your relieved sigh didn't go unnoticed by him, as he looked back to you.

"Have you gone soft?" he teased, eyeing you with a playful snort. "Did you forget who your husband is? You've got nothing to fear. Not even him."

"Thank you," you murmured. Your heart was still pounding and your mind blanked, rendering you unable to engage in your usual banters.

His clear blue eyes widened a touch, blinking at your display of vulnerability, Then, he wore the most innocent expression, even sporting a silly smirk—the hardness from earlier gone. "I was really cool, huh? Totally made you swoon I bet."

And in MONTH THREE, you realized, as he laced his fingers with yours, as his laughter filled the air, as calmness swelled on your chest, and as you loudly snorted at his remark, that—

You felt warm, so warm, in fact, and maybe—

"Pfft, you wish."

—maybe... being with him isn't so bad after all.

MONTH FOUR, and you finally found out that it was Geto Suguru.

Everyone knew that your husband and the criminal used to be the best of friends. You saw them during your high school days, and heck, you used to think that Geto was the better man.

You could only imagine what he must feel.

. . .

When he got back to your shared house after the whole ordeal—after he ended his best friend with his own hands, Satoru honestly didn't expect that you would be waiting for him.

"You okay?" you asked him, brows furrowed in concern. It was probably one of the very few times you had displayed emotions other than contempt towards him.

It felt strange because he was used to your jabs, and he was not sure what sort of expression he should pull now, because truthfully, now he felt empty. Blank. All he comprehended was that he had killed Suguru, that he was gone, and that was something he must do.

It would be just like any other day if hadn't just committed a murder. On someone he held dear.

"Of course, who do you think I am?" Satoru swiftly replied, sounding smug—or at least tried to. "I'm the strongest. I’m unscat—"

"No, not that." You frowned, meeting his gaze squarely. "After everything."

Satoru struggled to choose how he should react, partly because most of his energy had gone after walking Yuta back and reassuring him earlier, and by default, the two of you should be hellbent on hating each other and wishing for this contract to end soon.

"Aww, are you worried about me?" he quipped with a touch of sarcasm just because he had to, to show you that it wasn't enough to ruffle him.

Because he is still the strongest, even when alone. Especially when he is alone.

You let out a sigh, looking away. "Can't I?"

"Whoa, that's sweet of—"

"Don't fool yourself," you stated in straight-laced manner, meeting his gaze with a composed expression. "You're not okay. You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did."

You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did.

Despite himself, his smile fell, and his chest burns. What is this? Were you sympathizing with him?

Does that mean that you don't see him as the entity... that was the strongest?

Before now, Satoru remembered you as the most uncooperative Kyoto girl he had ever met. Your first meeting in high school sealed your fate as the two of you could hardly get along. You didn't mince words, you didn't take shit from anyone else—heck, sometimes when he thought of you, what came up to mind was an impenetrable diamond.

Which was why he chose you. You were someone he could trust. You were pretty in the eyes and certainly wouldn't bore him either. His reasons were purely based on logic. And after four months with you, Satoru came to a conclusion that you indeed fulfilled all his expectations, if not more.

And he felt comfortable, or dare he say, secure even. He felt like he had gained a friend, who could see past his bravado and wouldn't judge him for it.

"You're..." you sighed, casting a sympathetic glance at him, your forehead slightly creased. At that moment, Satoru couldn't help but think you were incredibly endearing, fretting over him. "...an idiot."

"Heh." I really am, aren't I?

"I never knew him well..." you chose your words carefully, hesitant. "Did you try to convince him, before this?"

He barked a bitter laugh. "I did, we even made a scene in front of freaking KFC," he remarked with a scoff. "He didn't listen to me, until the very end."

You wanted to tell him “You have done everything you could” but the words faltered on your tongue. You couldn't bring yourself to say it when you saw the faint quiver of his lips, the slump of his shoulders—the very sight of a boy grieving the loss of his friend.

Your heart pricked too, somehow, seeing that expression on him. And you once again realized that your silly, exalted husband was just as human as anyone else who made him think he wasn’t.

"And you know what he said in the end?" Satoru's tone was flippant, as if asking the most normal thing around, but carried a trace of grief, evident in the slight drop in his tone if you squinted. "He said he didn't regret it, not even a bit."

"I'm sorry," was all you could manage.

Satoru's smile was lopsided. Now that he had finally accepted it, something inside him finally bleeds, and it freaking hurts. The pain gripped his chest like a swirling inferno.

But then, you boldly clasped his hand in yours, gently tracing soothing circles on its back.

"What?" he peered at you, feeling a ghost of a smile forming.

"Consider this emotional support."

And he chuckled softly. Despite the lingering ache, despite the gloom he was sure he would carry for the rest of his life, he felt the pain was more bearable with you by his side, somewhat.

How?

You blamed it on the alcohol, because it was MONTH FIVE and you were kissing Gojo Satoru, daringly.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you rasped between kisses, breathless, as your own sinful hands plucked the buttons off his shirt. The intoxication might have played a part, but the intense heat coursing through you made it hard to think straight.

Satoru crashed his lips against yours again, consumed by blind lust. "Yeah, we shouldn't," he replied in a rush. His breath was hot as he trailed his lips down your jaw and neck next, savoring the softness of your skin.

You two had attended a banquet for the elite, and you were unbelievably beautiful. Standing by his side as his wife, you drew admiring glances, with everyone marveling at what a remarkable couple you made. The Gojo heir who was born with the legendary Limitless and the Kamo heiress, as lovely as her clan's name was powerful.

His deft hands roamed the curves of your body, exploring every inch of you. The warmth of his hands tickled something inside you as you closed your eyes to sink into this very moment. Next you knew, his bare body was against yours and you were stripped out of your evening dress.

Lust flickered in his honored eyes, as he took in the sight of you in your undergarments.

"You're really pretty, you know," he whispered. The intensity with which his eyes scanned your form made you nearly squirm. "Shame we don't always get along."

"You're one to talk," you retorted, a hint of exasperation in your tone, as you willed all other thoughts away. Thoughts like what comes after this. Thoughts like—

Is it heaven or sin, if you feel both at once?

His thumb tenderly caressed your plush lips, a hint of a smirk on his beautiful face.

He has long been thinking about your body. He was but a man, after all. He just didn't expect that you wanted this too.

There was always this tension, only this time, neither of you could hold it back anymore. Perhaps it was impulse—hell, most certainly it is, but there was another thing, something more that even Gojo Satoru still didn't dare to say out loud.

"Eager, are we?" he taunted when you leaned in, yearning for the touch of his lips on yours again.

You huffed. “Shut up and kiss me.”

A rush of heat flooded your cheeks at the slip of those words. You were about to rectify it, taken aback by your own boldness, but then he drew you close, silencing any further protest with a gentle hush—

"Too late, sweetheart," his husky voice entered your ears, lips curling into the most wicked smile, and you were in a trance. And Satoru was once again convinced, that choosing you as his wife was the rightest thing there was.

If the two of you went with this, then there would be consequences. Things would become more complicated, harder to sort out.

But, he decided, as he captured your lips in another heated kiss, everything else can wait.

MONTH SIX, and you were dreading the day of your divorce.

You brought this upon yourself. Whenever you reminisced about that night, you wanted to smack yourself in the face and bang your head against the nearest wall.

This marriage has a time limit. And you were doing it out of convenience in the first place.

You weren't supposed to… goddammit—fall in love with him.

But what's done is done, there is no going back in time. Awkward exchanges and lingering stares had been gnawing at your insides these days, and you were sure Satoru too must have noticed them too. You two used to be more relaxed with each other, and he'd even flirt with you, but weeks ever since that night of drunken passion, you almost reverted back to your high school personas—ignoring each other.

This was tough. You didn't like this. And more than that, you were faced with a more pressuring matter...

Gojo Satoru, with everything he possessed, could have had any woman he wanted. This arrangement with you was temporary in the first place, soon he would forget you and flit to the next woman.

The thought made your heart ache, because you had involuntarily gave your heart away to him. Siiigh… What a predicament you put yourself into, huh?

With just a month left together, maybe you should just make the best of it.

. . .

If you thought that things were any better with Satoru, then you were sorely wrong because he too, was debating with himself often nowadays.

Days spent with you were fun and fulfilling. You irked expression somehow had made its mark in his heart. You were pretty, fit to be by his side publicly and preferably, behind the closed doors. With you, he didn't feel the need to carry this facade of being strong—he could be a clown tripping over his own trap and you would amuse him with your deadpan expression.

And ever since that night, he was constantly reminded by how soft your skin was against his. It almost drove him crazy now that he was deprived of it.

How was it the last month already? He wasn't ready to let you go yet.

When he got back home later after his class ended and found you in the dinner table setting the food, all he could muster was, "Hey. Haven't eaten?"

You whirled around to face him in surprise. "Oh... you're back. Just about to. Want to join me?"

Of course he would. And yet as the two of you sat down, it was so painfully awkward Satoru felt like he was dying inside.

Why couldn't he pull off a smart line or two? Where did his suaveness go? He was smoother than this, surely, with his colorful history. One night of passion was supposed to enhance the relationship, not to derail it. What happened to you both?

The salt was near his side when you reached to grab it and bumped into his hand. "Uh-oh."

Turning towards you, he found your spooked expression and your adorable eyes widening in surprise. "S-sorry..."

It was just freaking salt! Salt! Why on earth were you apologizing?!

Enough, he thought. This utter madness of being jumpy with each other. He'd start from his side.

Does he want you to keep being his wife even after all this ends? Yes.

Why? All reasons already listed above.

Does this mean he likes you? Apparently and supposedly, yes. Because if it isn't then he doesn't know what this funny feeling driving him mad is.

With that sorted out, then he only had one more thing to confirm. He put down his spoon and crossed his arms together. "Tell me the truth. Do you like living with me?"

His question obviously took you by surprise. "Huh? What brought this on?"

"Just give me an answer."

"You're so pushy," you grumbled, lips pursed, and he felt like you were finally back to your usual dynamics somewhat. Good.

"Sooo, the verdict? Do you enjoy being with me or not?"

Because to him, it was a resounding yes and more.

Ignoring the warmth that surged to your cheeks, you rolled your eyes. "Surprisingly, not bad, yeah," you admitted, mustering the courage to meet his gaze. "You're annoying, an idiot, a bit crazy—"

"Hey!"

"—but eventually you're still... manageable," you added, feeling your face truly start to sizzle. But covered it up by looking down and playing with your fingers as you still had more to go on. "What I want to say is... I'm glad that I agreed to this—with you—because I can’t imagine it with anyone else."

An unfamiliar tingling emotion rushed to his chest as his face too started to heat up, letting your words sink in. Is he blushing? Oh God. He sure is. And so did he feel hella giddy.

Then it’s sealed.

Suddenly he procured a piece of paper from his work uniform and showed it to you. You first saw his lazily scrawled signature before it dawned on you.

The contract. You almost forgot that you made him sign that looming piece of paper. You were almost dismayed, thinking that he would end this right then and there, but then—

“Well, then… I suppose we no longer need this.”

Riiip~

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when Gojo Satoru tore out your contract right in front of your face, the most brilliant of his devilish grin adorned his handsome face, as he took off his blindfold to see you far clearly than ever. Heavens, you are cute, he thought.

“Soooo~ seems like you’re stuck with me from now on!”

You gaped, awestruck at the blatant meaning of it all, feeling how your heartbeat started to pick up the pace, when he pulled the rag out of your feet once more by tilting his head to the side, looking at you with a winning smile.

“Let’s start over! What did they say again? Ah, yeah. Here’s to the first day of our lives!”

[evilminji]

You know how... world leaders can't just? SAY stuff? Because when they DO it's the Offical Stance(tm) of their Country?

That makes their Fuck Ups(tm) all the more serious. It's WHY they have press teams.

But!!!

WHAT IF?

They said something, PUBLICLY, on LIVE TELEVISION, that? Can not be taken back? Full on "masks off, behold the horrors you have payed for" moment?

Sure, they could SAY "that wasn't me" and "I was brainwashed" etc etc. But? If it's BIG enough? UGLY enough? TRUE??? People WILL find it. Dig and dig and dig like termites in the walls. Hunt like bloodhounds.

Riot in the streets.

Because? All it would TAKE? Is ONE half ghost, a few too many long nights trying to balance college classes and his internship, a bigotry filled call from back home, and staring down that empty fridge with just one box of moldering take out, because he's been too busy and stressed to remember to get GROCERIES AND-

Ah.

So this is what "so stressed you feel calm, I have run out of Fucks too give" feels like. Neat. *picks up phone* Hey, Sam? You still at that protest? Outside the presidential speech? Neat. Don't move.

One Phone Line Express later. SAM is telling him to breathe. Maybe... maybe calm down. Think about this. Others around her can see the same "spark of madness" glint in his almost zen like smile.

It Fiiiiine, Sam.

He's just here to Talk.

He disappears. Sam's freaking out. President stumbles but catches himself on the way to the mike. Up in the watch tower, various Magic users choke on their lunches, because a ghost just possessed the United States President.

ON LIVE TELEVISION.

He taps the Mike, smile, leans in real close like he's gonna Tell You Folks A Secret.... Aaaaand~

"The second you Die, you no longer have human rights. Doesn't matter how brief. Heart stops? You're sub-human scum! Non-sentient by American law. We here in the United Stares PROUDLY desecrate the bodies and graves of the dead. Tear apart the immortal souls of the innocent. And condemn you to oblivion crying, begging, and screaming for mercy! Why, obviously, is an act. Because souls don't have the RIGHT to feel fear or pain!

And YES. We do mean EVERYONE'S. Atlantian, Kryptonian, Martian. Canadian, Mexican, Russian, AND Chinese! I could keep going! Once you die? You belong to the United States to experiment on as we see fit! You're PROPERT now! So turn your nonrights having, nonsentient self in to the nearest GIW! For the good of AMERICA. Ectoplasmic Scum!"

*drops mic*

Jaws are on the floor. This was VETERANS DAY. Dead military Heros and smile for the cameras. A cake walk. Do a patriotism, rah rah. There.... there are DIPLOMATS in the crowd. Sure as SHIT, were more then a few foreign nationals WATCHING. Religious leaders looking on in fury, grief, and horror.

Reporters. Oh sweet Jesus the reporters.

The press secretary faints.

PANDEMONIUM. The president, still dazed and confused from being possessed, gets PUNCHED on live television be his VP, a deeply religious if moderately shady man. Take bribes? VP is cool with that. Bootstraps, peasants, and all that. But how DARE you fuck with the Souls of the dead. How DARE you!

Phones are blowing up, questions are being shouted, the JLA Dark FEEL like they should tell somebody about the ghost kid... but also this feels VERY "Call for help-y" so they might throw their weight around instead and pretend they know nothing. World leader are meaningfully staring at their Dear Beloved Dead Grandmother's photos as they send LIVID assistants to hound the American into answering the DAMN PHONE-!

And Danny?

Danny feels calmer now. He has stolen like....700 bucks from secret security's various wallets. He's going to buy himself BOUGIE groceries. Some...some NICE take out. Maybe a little cake. Yeah~ Cake for Danny~

If anyone needs him? No you don't. He needs to go do some shopping, eat, lie on the floor of his shower and just... vibe for a bit under the spray. In the dark maybe. Sleep for a week. Have his food. Yummy little treats.

Or he's gonna fuckin LOSE IT, man.

(Tucker is actively hacking his college schedule as they speak. He KNEW it. Called it! Too many classes! But does Mr "I can handle it" listen? Noooooooo! Now look what happened! Holy SHIT, Danny!)

@hypewinter @hdgnj @ailithnight @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter

[gunsandspaceships]

My little MCU timeline rant

I'm working on the timeline for Fury's Big Week movies, aka The Incredible Hulk, Iron Man 2 and Thor, and here's what I wanna say:

"The concept of "Fury's Big Week" had been conceived by executive Brad Winderbaum when he was hired in October 2008, with one of his first tasks to create a timeline for the MCU."

Brad, dear,

[renskaji]

injury

hajime umemiya x sakura!sister reader, wc: 2k, req? yes! find it here.

part two

Haruka Sakura knows he’s not invincible. 

He knows it, has felt the weight of fists against his body, has suffered the pains and aches of not being able to handle every blow that comes his way. But still, he’s managed, and he’s gotten pretty far, in his own opinion, while not being invulnerable. 

It’s when you’re in danger—you, his sister, the one and only person who ever treated him with kindness before Furin—when you get hurt, that Haruka Sakura learns that he’s not invincible. 

The day started out normal. 

You’re trailing him while he makes his rounds, having dedicated your morning to making sure he makes it to Café Pothos for a lunch hang out with some of the Furin third years. Sakura doesn’t know how to feel about the fact that you’re so close with his upperclassmen, but he does know that he would trust them with his life, so it’s probably fine to trust them with yours. 

But still, he’s always put his big sister’s safety before even his own, so who can really blame him for being protective. 

His patrol goes smoothly, save for the way you pick at him in the way only a sister can whenever he blushes at the kindness of the townspeople. You laugh and nudge him, and he threatens to leave you to the damn wolves, which makes you laugh more, at which point he grumbles and takes whatever fresh baked good was being offered to him at the moment and stomps ahead. 

He always stops and waits for you to catch up, though. 

The problem arises when you’re on your way to the café. You’re walking beside him, chattering his ear off about something he’s honestly trying to focus on, your head ducked low to type away at your phone. He thinks you’re texting Tsubaki, but he’s more amazed at how you could type so fast even as a stream of messages come in, and he misses your story about what happened in your class the day before. 

Haruka Sakura knows he’s not invincible, knows he’s been beat before, but he’s still not prepared for the way all the oxygen leaves his lungs when suddenly there’s a crowd of guys from a team he thinks he might’ve beat a few weeks earlier surrounding you both. 

If he was on his own, he would’ve had no problem taking care of the group of attackers. But you’re with him, and for all the years you’ve watched him fight, you’ve never once had any interest in trying to learn yourself. 

He warns you to keep still and puts your body between himself and the brick shop front at his back to try and prevent you from being in harm's way. There’s not a chance he can fight like he wants to, so Sakura is forced to go on the defensive. 

You whisper something about texting Umemiya to come help while the ringleader of the attackers goes on about how he’s a punk and they’ve got him now. And maybe a few months ago Sakura would’ve rather chewed off his own foot than ask for support protecting you, but he’s grown up so much and he needs his team to help keep you safe. 

It’s really a blur to Sakura after that. 

The attacks start, and he’s so outnumbered and at a disadvantage while keeping you safe that he’s forced to split his focus. There can’t be more than ten guys attacking, but it feels like an oppressive swarm since he has you to watch out for. It’s different than when he’s watching out for Nirei, because Nirei at least wants to fight. 

You’re only in danger because of him. 

Haruka Sakura is distracted by that thought. It stings him, deeply, and his attackers must see the fear spike in him because they choose that moment to lunge as one. There’s not stopping all of them, but he has to try, and yet he’s useless as someone powers past him and slams into you. 

He’s helpless as he sees you crash backwards into the brick wall and crumple onto the stone street. 

Haruka Sakura has felt a lot of anger in his life, but never so deeply, so vast. 

Because the root of his fury, at that moment, is fear. 

When your eyes blink awake, you’re not where you remember falling. 

You’re also taller than you remember being, which is your second clue that something is off. The third is that you’re moving without walking, the front of your body pressed against something firm, something shifting with every step. 

You connect the dots pretty quickly when you see a head of snow-white hair. 

Umemiya is giving you a piggy-back ride, large hands secured under your thighs while your arms are nearly limp around his neck, not doing much to help keep you balanced. Your head is resting against the muscle of his shoulder, cheek pressed to the fabric of his Bofurin coat and the sweet smell of freshly tilled earth filling your senses. 

“Where’s… Haru…?” You find your voice shortly after figuring out where in the universe your body is. You can’t keep your eyes open long enough to determine where in Makochi you’re at, but you do know that Umemiya would never do anything to put you in harm’s way. 

He tenses at the sound of your voice, but then it makes you realize that he was tense before, and he only got worse after hearing you. 

“He’s safe.” Umemiya assures you, knowing what was important to relay in that moment. Haruka is your brother, and you’ve spent your life trying to protect him from a world that turned its back on him. It’s no wonder that you’re desperate to know about him before checking on your own condition. “Hiragi’s taking care of him. They’re getting some stuff, and meeting us at the hospital.”

Your mind is still in a daze, so you don’t think you hear him correctly. There’s also an edge to his voice you’ve never heard before. Sharp. Terrifying. But also like he’s trying so, so hard to not take it out on you.

“Hospital?” You echo, face twisting with a wince as you pick up your head in order to rest your chin on his shoulder. It gives you a better angle to look at him, and you even get a glimpse of his face as he turns to make sure you’re not doing anything stupid. 

Your pulse jumps at the look in his eyes. You think you see panic, but then you remember you heard your head hit the wall before blacking out. 

Oh, right. You blacked out. Hospital makes sense, actually.

“For you, pretty thing.” He tries to sound normal—you know he does, because he uses the nickname he gave you because he said the way you blush at it was adorable—but you saw the panic in his eyes and you’re able to focus long enough to feel the hammering of his heart in his chest. “Sakura said you took a big hit. You were already unconscious by the time Hiragi and I got there.” 

Despite the fact that you and Haruka have the same last name, Umemiya has always called your brother by that shared last name and you by your first. You’ve never really thought too much about it before, but now you’re starting to think that hearing him call your name so gently, strained, when you take too long to respond might make it too hard for you to continue ignoring the way your heart aches for him. 

“‘M still here,” You promise him, watching from your position over his shoulder as his jaw ticks with the force of his emotion. He glances at you from the corner of his eye again, and you can see the struggle he’s battling with to keep calm while carrying you to the hospital. 

“Just making sure you haven’t fallen asleep.” He comments. It makes you realize just how tired you actually were, but you know enough about head injuries to know that you should absolutely not keep your heavy lids closed like you wished. 

“Promise me you’ll talk to Haruka,” You find yourself saying when the silence stretches on too long. You pause to find your right words, and Umemiya adjusts his hold on you to keep you balanced. “You know he’s beating himself up about this. He takes himself too seriously, puts too much on himself.”

“You talk to him yourself, too.” He assures you quickly. Your mouth feels dry, but you can feel it, so it’s better than nothing. “Hey, keep those pretty eyes open for me, alright?”

You hadn’t realized they closed. You force your eyes open and try to take in your surroundings. You’re still in town, only a street or two away from the hospital, if you remember correctly. But you also realize something else, something that makes anxiety spike in your chest and clog your throat. 

The people of the town are staring at you on Umemiya’s back. And they look nervous. 

“Ume,” You speak around the cotton in your mouth. You’ll ask for water at the hospital, but you have to wait until you get there first. He hums in response, acknowledging you while keeping his focus, and you feel the vibrations of it through his back. “How bad is it?”

Because the looks on everyone’s faces isn’t a good sign.

“We’re almost to the hospital.” He deflects. You recognize the edge in his voice better now, and you know he’s barely holding onto his fury. Even the sweetheart leader of Bofurin has his limits, and it seems your attackers had crossed his. 

“Hajime, how bad did I get hurt?” Your voice is stronger than it had been moments earlier, shocking both you and him. It helps to get your desperation to know the seriousness of your condition across, even if you’re practically shaking in fear at his hesitancy to tell you. 

He’s silent, at first. But then he sighs, glacial eyes watching you carefully to read your expression for something you’re unsure of. 

“Bad.” His voice is low, but at least the hospital is within sight now. You think it’s probably the reason why he’s finally offering the information. If you had panicked ten blocks back, you would’ve been worse off. “The back of your head is bleeding from where it hit the wall. Can’t you feel it?”

Your heart drops to your stomach, but you’re not brave enough to reach behind you and check.

“That’s why Hiragi had to take Haruka.” You reason. Umemiya hums out a confirmation but it’s far from his usual jovial self that you feel your insides twist. You’re nervous, but you feel better that Umemiya is with you. It’s not like you don’t love your brother, but your autopilot is to take care of Haruka, not be cared for by. “Which group was it?”

“I took care of them.”

His voice is made of stone, and he’s looking forward. You know that’s all you’re going to get out of him, and for once you don’t care to push the issue. 

“Will you stay with me, at least until Haruka gets here?” It’s a little pathetic, but now that you know just how badly you were hurt, tears have started to prick at your eyes. Umemiya is only a few moments away from the hospital, and you’re scared of being left by yourself. 

“I’m not leaving your side.” He answers too quick for it to be a lie and gives you a firm look, like he’s even more concerned that you thought there was even a chance he would leave you behind. “And once this is all over, I’m taking you out to eat. Just us.” 

You want to kiss him for it, but you know it’s not the right time. 

But maybe after the meal he just swore he’d take you on. 

“Thank you.” You sniffle and nod, but the action hurts too much and you wince. Thankfully, he’s more focused at finding a clear path into the emergency room, because you think at this point that he’s just nervous enough about you being injured that he’d chastise you for moving too fast and hurting yourself. 

“You don’t need to thank me. I will always protect you.”

You know it’s true, because he’s Hajime Umemiya.

And he’s not invincible, but he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. 

[touchtheinvisiblestars]

Still Yours

Warnings: angst, bit of unwanted attention from someone that isn't Joel, slight violence/aggressive behaviour from Joel (pretty tame for him tbh)

***

You hadn’t seen Joel much since he ended things.

No big scene. No screaming. Just one night, out of nowhere, he stood in your doorway and said it was over. Said he “couldn’t do this anymore.” That he “wasn’t good at this,” whatever this was. Then he walked away.

You didn’t chase him. You wanted to, but something in his eyes told you he wouldn’t listen. He had made up his mind. Even if his mind was telling him things that weren't true.

And Jackson moved on, like it always did.

You buried yourself in routines, kept your head down, learned to stop looking for him in every crowd. That was the hardest part. Seeing him everywhere. A small part of you actually considered leaving. Just to make it easier.

But tonight, there was no avoiding the crowds.

The town had organized some sort of gathering at the lodge—music, drinks, dancing. One of those efforts to feel normal in a world that rarely allowed it. You told yourself you’d only stay for a bit, just long enough to be polite.

You were halfway through your second drink, lingering near the bar, when a voice leaned in too close.

“Didn’t expect someone like you to be alone,” the stranger said, breath hot and unwelcome at your neck. He wasn’t from Jackson—not really. Newer face, someone who had only been around a few weeks. Tall, smug, confident in a way only someone untested could be.

You stepped away from the bar, trying to shrug him off. “Not interested.”

He laughed. “C’mon. Don’t have to be so cold about it.”

His hand caught your arm, not hard, but possessive. Too familiar.

“Let go of me,” you said, louder now.

But he didn’t.

He leaned in closer instead, eyes flicking to your chest, voice dropping with a sleazy grin. “What, your boyfriend gonna stop me? You don’t got one anymore, right?”

You stiffened.

And that’s when you felt it.

The shift in the air. The sudden quiet around you, like the room itself had stopped breathing.

Then a rough hand ripped the man off of you with such force he stumbled into a table behind him, nearly knocking over a tray of glasses.

Joel stood there, jaw tight, eyes murderous. His chest heaved once, then stilled.

“If you ever touch her again,” he said, voice low and dangerous, “I will break every fuckin’ finger on that hand.”

The man froze, stunned.

Joel took a step closer, slow, deliberate. “You understand me?”

The guy held up both hands like some cheap surrender, stammering. “Alright, alright. Jesus.”

“Go,” Joel growled.

The man didn’t need to be told twice. He bolted, brushing past chairs and disappearing through the back door like his life depended on it.

The room slowly returned to its rhythm, but now with that kind of electric buzz that comes after a near-fight. Eyes watched Joel. Watched you.

Joel turned toward you, his expression unreadable now.

“You alright?” he asked.

You stared at him, heart pounding. “You didn’t have to—”

“He touched you.” His voice broke a little on it, barely.

You didn’t say anything. Just looked at him, really looked, and saw it there—beneath the fury and roughness. Regret. Want. Fear.

He ran a hand over his beard, shaking his head. “I tried to stay away. Thought it’d be better for you. Safer.”

“Was it?” you asked, voice quiet.

Joel looked at you like the question wounded him. “No.”

Your throat tightened.

“I ain’t askin’ for you to take me back,” he said, stepping closer, voice low so only you could hear. “But if someone ever lays a hand on you again, I won’t just threaten them next time.”

You looked up at him, blinking hard. “Joel—”

“I ain’t stopped feelin’ it,” he cut in, voice rough now. “The way I felt for you… it scared the hell outta me. Still does.”

Your breath caught.

He hesitated. “But if you’d let me try again…”

You looked at him—at the pain in his eyes, the anger, the longing. At the man who had walked away from you and still couldn’t bear the thought of someone else touching you.

Your voice was soft. “You gonna run again next time you get scared?”

Joel shook his head once. “Not if you let me stay.”

[traveler-at-heart]

Stuck together

Wanda Maximoff x F! Super Soldier R

Summary: Canon divergence after Wandavision... what if Tommy and Billy are alive and stay with their mom?

Only a handful of people have this number.

So, when the phone rings, you know it’s trouble.

“We need a favor” Hill says. That we means Fury and her, as they constantly operate outside of the government’s rules.

The world has been too messy since everyone came back from the dead, making it easy to slip through the cracks.

You only say yes because Natasha was her friend.

The ride to the rendezvous point is quiet, only interrupted by the engine of your motorcycle. Throughout the road, you cross paths with one other driver who couldn’t care less about you.

“Sorry for the short notice” Maria says when you park outside the warehouse, walking up to you. “We didn’t know who else to call. There’s a safe house ready, food for a couple of days… that’s all we can offer for now”

You nod, walking up to the car.

The last thing you’re expecting is Wanda Maximoff, fast asleep in the back seat, a kid on each side of her.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Keep an eye out” is all Maria says and you sigh.

For a moment, you wish you had ignored her call. Leave someone else to deal with whatever this is.

“It won’t be long, right?”

“Couple of weeks, tops”

Again, it gives you the impression she’s either lying or leaving out a big chunk of information.

But you’re here, and you won’t back out. She hands over the car keys and a burner phone, which you accept with a nod. Neither Wanda nor the kids notice the car moving, and you drive in silence for a couple of hours.

You’re still two hours away from the safe house when there’s a shift in the environment. The first thing you notice is how the radio malfunctions, changing stations randomly. Out of instinct, you look out the rearview mirror, eyes meeting bright red orbs.

It’s as if something stabbing your brain, pain blinding as you feel your mind unravel. It stops abruptly, but you’re too stunned, shaking your head and almost crashing against a tree.

Some outside force keeps the wheel steady, parking the car on the side of the road. The minute it stops, you open the door, breathing heavily. The throbbing pain begins to subside, and you can hear and see again.

“I’m sorry, I woke up and didn’t... didn’t know if we were safe” Wanda says, her voice small. You didn’t even hear her get out of the car.

“Ask next time, instead of trying to kill me” you turn to look away, to hide your confusion.

Even if you knew her for a small time, you don’t remember the Maximoff girl having this kind of power.

“I was just reading your mind” she defends herself. You’re about to argue again when she turns to the car, looking at the kids who are wide awake.

“Boys…” she begins, but looks your way and stays quiet. “Is there a restaurant nearby? We could have some food and a bathroom break”

“The safe house isn’t that far away” you say. You really don’t want to stop, considering Maria didn’t tell you anything specific.

“Please” Wanda says when you clear your throat. With a sigh, you nod. But before she can open the car door, you put your hand over it, looking straight into her green eyes. “Don’t ever do that again, Maximoff”

It annoys you that she doesn’t answer, only glaring at you until your hand drops and she gets in the car, smiling at the kids.

Luckily for them, there’s a small diner by the side of the road, along a gas station and a couple of old restrooms. Open 24 hours, probably to cater to truck drivers and other people who have to go miles without seeing another soul, never mind a place to eat.

Food probably sucks.

“Stay in the booth over there” you point to the back of the restaurant, sitting at the counter where you can see anyone walking in or driving by.

Within minutes of entering, you have already found any weapons you could use, emergency exits and potential obstacles.

But there’s nothing, no one seems to care about your presence.

The kids eat pancakes while Wanda watches them, making small talk. You wonder who are they.

Then again, the bleep brought a shit load of troubles with it. Maybe they disappeared five years ago and their parents are nowhere to be found.

So many people disappeared, aside from the ones that turned to dust.

“They just have to use the bathroom and we’re ready to go” Wanda says, frowning when she notices your empty cup of coffee. “Did you eat anything?”

“I’m fine. Don’t take too long” you leave a couple of bills on the counter, more than enough to cover for the food and your cup of crappy coffee.

The sun is starting to rise and you really wish you could get moving. It’s always better to go when it’s dark, even if enemies can hide in the shadows.

What’s taking so fucking long?

Walking away from the car, you find Wanda trying to stop a man from approaching her any further. He must have come from the other side of the road, as you didn’t see him until now.

“Just wondering what a cute girl like you is doing all alone down this dirty old road” he says.

“None of your fucking business” you say, making the man jump out, scared. “Leave her alone”

“You her guard dog? Be a nice mutt and go dig up some bones” he says, pulling out a knife.

With a roll of your eyes, you reach for it, twisting his hand and punching him in the face. It takes you five seconds to knock him out. Just for fun, you spit next to his motionless body.

“Told you to make it quick” you say to Wanda, pretending to be annoyed.

“We’re done” she says, walking back to the car. The kids share a look as they walk past the unconscious man, giggling when they pretend to be fighting each other.

Wanda smiles when you open the back door for her, while you pretend not to notice her eyes on you.

“Thank you”

Luckily, the rest of the ride to the safe house goes smoothly.

—

Maria didn’t lie about one thing.

This place is a shithole.

Wood pannels are broken, there’s dust everywhere and you’re gonna have to cook and get heat the old fashioned way.

“Yikes” one of the kids says as you walk through the door. You have to agree.

“It’s going to be fine. We’ll make it work” Wanda promises, feigning excitement.

“Can’t you just…?” you make a movement with your hands, and she frowns at you. “Abracadabra the place?”

“I’d rather not use my powers unless it is strictly necessary” she says, closing the front door. That falls off its hinges.

“Home security doesn’t strike you as a necessity, Maximoff?”

The tilt of her head is all the answer you get. With a sigh, you walk up to the shed, hoping there are some tools you can use to fix the door.

Well, at least there are weapons, cash, and all the essentials to make sure the door doesn’t fall again.

Home chores are not your favorite thing in the world, but at least it’s distracting you. Wanda is inside, cleaning the second floor while the two kids come up and down, carrying things and laughing.

“Do you need any help?” one of them approaches you.

“It’s fine. Sorry, I don’t know your name”

“I’m Billy, and my brother’s name is Tommy” the boy says, smiling. Though his brother seems reluctant to give out that information so freely.

“Well, Billy, like I said. I’m almost done. Thanks anyway”

“Oh. Ok”

The disappointment in his voice annoys you.

Kids.

“Fine. Nail that for me”

You hand over the hammer, holding the nail between two of your fingers. The first time he hits your hand, and you barely flinch. You encourage him with a nod, and he crashes the hammer against the rotten wood, adding another task to your workload.

“Sorry”

“That’s on me” you say, inspecting your hand. No damage.

“Are you bullet proof?”

“Not quite. Just harder to kill, that’s all”

Wanda clears her throat and you turn to look at her, frowning.

“Boys, come help in the kitchen” she asks and they both nod, walking past you. Before you can go back to work, Wanda approaches you, hissing. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t mention things like killing in front of two kids, Y/L/N”

With a glare, you stand up, and Wanda doesn’t back down when you tower over her.

“And I would appreciate it if you could make jazz hands and save me the trouble of fixing this shithole. But alas, we’re both stuck, aren’t we?”

“Brute” she spits out. You give her one last glare, and kneel back next to the door, fixing the wood.

Spoiled brat.

You hear a gasp and a small ball of red magic hits your side. It barely hurts, and it feels more like a warning.

You’re pretty sure you didn’t say that out loud.

“You thought it very loudly” Wanda says.

“Oh, for that you don’t mind using magic” you mutter. Wanda turns to glare at you, and you decide to shut your mouth.

You don't want to push your luck.

—

The better part of your day is spent securing the house. You’re a soldier and an agent, not a handywoman. Still, you hope this won’t take long and pretty soon you and Wanda can be on your separate ways.

After showering, you go out into the porch and open up a beer, taking a large gulp.

“Where’d you get that?” Wanda appears out of nowhere and you resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“Someone left a secret stash”

And thank God, because you’re gonna need it if Maximoff will be breathing down your neck for who knows how long.

“Beer on an empty stomach? There’s food inside. Not my best, but with the groceries we have is what I could do”

“No offense but if I don’t make it, I don’t taste it” you mutter, taking another sip of your beer.

“Yeah, well, you’re no use if you’re drunk” she complains, crossing her arms.

“Do you really think this gets me drunk? I’m a super soldier, remember?”

“You’re a pain in the ass, that’s what you are” she says before going back inside.

Well, she’s not wrong.

The sounds coming from inside the house tell you the kids are getting ready for bed. Once you notice the lights upstairs are off, you decide to go to the kitchen.

Wanda’s right, whoever got the provisions is an idiot. There’s canned food, some cereal, but nothing that can actually work if you put it together.

Unless…

Could there be another hidden stash?

You examine every inch of the kitchen thoroughly, knuckles testing the wood to find an empty panel. After a few minutes, you stumble upon one and smile.

“Bingo” you say, lifting the pannel and finding a cabinet full of cookies, chips and candy.

You pick a bag of chips, and go back outside, drinking another beer. As you look at the woods surrounding the safe house, your mind can’t help but go back to what little you know about Wanda Maximoff.

Natasha had told you she was just a terrified kid, that HYDRA had taken advantage of her and her brother to conduct experiments and turn them into weapons.

You could definitely relate to that.

You barely spent time with her, as shortly after the entire Avenger initiative went to shit and well…

Best not to think about what happened after that. The nightmares are enough reminder.

The night goes by slowly, but you refuse to sleep. One, you are supposed to be looking after them, no matter how much Wanda annoys you. Second, if it were up to you, you’d never sleep. So, you struggle to stay awake, even if it’s freezing outside.

Around five in the morning, you begin to doze off, and decide to take a walk around the house to make sure everything’s in order.

By eight, the lulling sound of birds chirping relaxes you enough, the way it always does when you’re back home, so you begin to drift off…

Until you feel a little flick hitting your cheek. It’s annoying, like a bug, but you think nothing of it as you settle in the chair.

But then it happens two more times. You huff, smacking your own cheek hoping to catch the bug. You look at your empty palm, skin stinging with the force of your own hit.

For a few minutes, you close your eyes, pretending to be asleep. Alert to any change around you, you finally manage to reach and catch the little culprit.

“You little shit” you mutter, but are surprised to see Tommy right next to you, struggling with the hand that is holding to his shirt.

“Mom!” he begins to yell, scared out of his mind.

What the fuck do you mean mom?

You don’t have time to ask out loud, as a burst of red magic throws you out of the porch and into the front lawn.

The sight of Wanda levitating, eyes glowing red makes you crawl back, terrified. It’s been a while since you’ve been scared shitless by something, that’s for sure.

“I will kill you” she states, her accent heavy as a hand reaches forward, red magic curling around your throat and lifting you up in the air.

Oh, well. You had a nice run. It’s very clear that nothing you do will overpower her. It doesn’t matter how strong you are, Wanda’s magic can hold you down, throw you around, choke the life out of you like she’s doing right now.

There are worse ways to go.

“Mom, stop, please!”

The lack of air is probably making you hallucinate, but a second later you’re dropped to the ground, coughing violently and rubbing your neck.

“Tommy, don’t” Wanda pulls him to her side when he tries to reach you and you see fear in her eyes.

She thinks you’ll hurt the boy.

Now, that stings more than the murder attempt she just pulled off.

When you feel like you finally caught your breath, you stand up on shaky legs, and walk away from the house and into the woods.

You don’t stop until you find a small clear and drop against a log, panting.

Maria picks up immediately.

“You’re gonna tell me the fucking truth”

“What…”

“She’s more than capable of taking care of herself. Why the fuck did you call me, then?”

There’s a pause that extends for longer than you’d like and you’re about to tell her how Wanda almost killed you when Maria sighs, giving up.

“Her powers are… unstable. Or rather, she is. I don’t have clearance to tell you everything. But we want to know if she can be a threat”

“To whom?”

“To the world”

You feel like throwing up. You should have never answered the call, you’re way over your head.

“I’m not someone who should be making those decisions. Find anyone else”

“We don’t trust anyone else enough to…”

“Call Barton”

“He’s retired”

“Well, unretire his ass. He knows her better than I do, Hill”

You have a feeling this is is an argument you’re not gonna win, unless you just pick up your shit and leave. Which you could very well do considering what just happened.

A scream that tears throw the quiet of the forest makes you look up.

“I have to go” you say, discarding the burner phone and running back to the house.

Billy’s the one screaming, but you can’t tell why until you reach the edge of the property, looking between Wanda and a strange woman, piercing blue eyes and wild brown hair making her look deranged.

“What…?”

Then, you notice the dagger she’s holding against Billy’s throat.

“Don’t pull any tricks, Wanda. I’m done playing nice”

[bernardsbendystraws]

𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 — 𝐌.𝐒. & 𝐂.𝐒.

Synopsis: You've been playing them both, now they want to return the favor.

Warnings: Smut, Chratt, fem recieving, fingering, cum eating, and more.

With love and big tits, Rose

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Pissed was an understatement for how both Matt and Chris felt. They had found out about your little game—how you were going between the boys beds without them even knowing.

First, it was Matt. You had met him first and you just clicked. Everything fell into place. And that included you in his bed.

That night still lingered on his mind when he touched himself. Your whines, you moans, the way you clawed his back…

He was obsessed.

Then, you met Chris.

You hadn’t meant to end up under him, but he had been irresistible. It wasn’t like you liked one of them more than the other—they both just had such an intoxicating talent of making your brain go numb.

It had been a week since you hooked up with Matt. You had been so pent up—well, up until last night.

You went to the same party mansion in hopes of finding him. Your skin burned as you saw his familiar silhouette.

But, it wasn’t him.

Chris was more than pleased when you approached him. Any confusion had puddled in the back of your mind as his eyes and hands wandered.

He took you back to the familiar house—the one you had been at just a week before. But, he took you downstairs. His room, his bed.

Matt thought he was going crazy. He heard the girl moaning, and he could’ve sworn it sounded just like you. But, maybe that was just his mind playing tricks on him.

The morning came and you rushed out before Chris could even wake up. Although, it was well past noon anyhow.

Another week passed. You debated going back to the mansion filled with loud music and booze. Your mind and heart both said not to, but your desire overpowered any cognitive ability.

They were both there.

But, you didn’t see them first.

They saw you.

Matt and Chris spotted you at the same time. They both went to tell the other that they’d be back, but then they connected the dots.

“Trust me, she isn’t gonna want you.”

Matt had spit the words so cockily to Chris. But, the arrogance didn’t last long.

“Didn’t you hear her moaning from me last week? Yeah, sorry to break it to you, but—,”

“What?”

Just like that, they were both burning with fury.

But rage did little to cloud their desires. If anything—it cheered them on.

And that was how you ended up here.

It was a random room in the mansion. But, Matt had dragged you up. You were excited beyond belief as he crashed his lips to yours, but the excitement faded to confusion as you felt another pair of lips on your neck.

“Relax, we’re just helping you decide.”

Chris’s voice had been whispered just beneath your ear. You were filled with a daze of hunger, too caught up in the heat between your legs to read into the situation.

It all felt so good. But it was torture.

They had made it into a true competition. Manhandling you, they had yanked you by your hair, sloppily switching positions as one of them kissed along your neck while the other explored your mouth.

You were dripping.

But—the games had just begun.

Matt went first since he had you first. He made his fingers curl deep inside of you while sucking on your clit.

Chris had pulled your chin upward against his chest, his hands toying with your tits and you struggled to kiss him back.

It was all too much. Within minutes, you had gone completely slack and open mouthed, moaning loudly as Matt slurped up your cum.

“Mmmm, feels good, doesn’t it?” Chris teases, licking his warm tongue in your open mouth. “But, I’ll make you feel even better.” he taunts in your ear.

Matt reluctantly pulls away from your pussy. He can’t help but lightly slap your wet folds, smirking as you screech.

“My turn, huh?” Chris purrs.

Shifting positions, you’re placed onto Chris’s face. Your ass is touching his nose as he grabs and gropes the flesh, teasingly prodding his tongue upward through your pussy as you hover over his face.

Matt grabs your chin as he sits on the edge of the bed. He yanks you to him, greeting your lips with the sour taste of cum lingering in his mouth.

Your thighs give out resisting Chris’s pull, landing your sloppy cunt on his face. Wet slaps of his tongue running along your sensative pussy push you to chase Matt’s mouth more desperately.

“So fucking needy, huh?”

Matt taunts you while biting into the flesh of your neck and down to your collarbones. The pain aids to the euphoria. It sways you out from the world as you get lost in bliss.

“I hope you’re keepin’ score, sweetheart.” he mutters.

Your eyes go wide.

There’s more?

Chris is fucking his tongue into you, shaking his head back and forth as he rubs his chin against your clit. Pressure in your lower gut gathers furiously as you grind down into his face.

His mouth vibrates deliciously against your pulsating nerves. Every move of his tongue feels like a burn from ice, but you can’t help but chase the feeling of the high.

Matt grasps tightly at your neck as you stop kissing him. But, this only adds the band of pressure unfolding.

A scream makes the pair both filled with pride.

“See—it made me so mad when I found out you let him fuck that pretty pussy, sweetheart. So fuckin’ mad.” Matt lifts you off of Chris’s face, setting you down on the bed as he climbs behind you.

“Shit, baby. You taste so good.” Chris is mumbling to himself as he swipes his messy face. Your cum is wiped from his cheek as he selfishly licks it clean.

Matt pulls you back by your hips. You’re now sitting in between his legs with you back against his chest. He pets down the side of your head, licking over his teeth as he sees your fucked-out expression.

It’s in this moment that you realize there’s a sickening truth behind their actions. You’re not choosing a winner or a loser between the two of them.

The only winners are them.

They’re on the same team.

Matt curls an arm around, his fingers gingerly gliding through the slippery lips of your pussy. As he spreads your folds wide, he nibbles at the edge of your ear.

“Go ahead, Chris. I’ll keep her wide open for ya.”

Long fingers push into you. You arch your back helplessly from the overstimulation, but Matt keeps his hand spreading you open and his other arm holding your waist to his back.

Chris’s motions are already speeding up. Matt’s hand not only spreads you, but his thumb flicks down in circles on your clit.

“—‘s too much!”

Matt’s laughs at your cries directly into your ear.

“But, didn’t you want us both to make you feel good?”

Knuckles bruise your pelvis as Chris fucks you hard with his fingers. Your legs are flexing and trying to close, but Matt loops one of his legs around yours, keeping you spread to the fullest as Chris pushes your other leg open with his free hand.

Loud squelches of your cunt squeezing around Chris’s fingers echo through the room. You cum—hard. The milky white ring of your cream is irresistible to Chris as he slurps the warm liquid from his fingers.

But, Matt’s finger don’t stop. He lays out a flat palm, vigorously stimulating you as you writhe.

“I—can’t! Please — don’t stop!”

Your words are just as contradicting as your thoughts. The pleasure is addicting but it’s too much.

“Hear that Chris? She needs more,”

Matt’s hand slumps down, the top of his hand creates friction against your clit as he slams his fingers into your dripping hole.

“Need more, huh, baby? So selfish.”

At Chris’s words, your body tenses in shock feel more fingers enter you. Both boys are sliding in and out of you with the long digits, fucking your tired pussy with determination.

“Oh fuck!”

The tight clutch of your walls is trying to push and pull the fingers all at once. A large gush of liquid squirts out from you, splashing onto their hands as their pace remains the same.

“Oh my…fuckin’ squirted for us, huh baby?”

Chris is already licking some of the residue off your thigh as he bottoms his knuckles inside of you in sync with Matt.

Due to his lack of attention, your legs nearly snap shut. However, Matt is quick to snatch his arm under your leg, pulling it to your chest.

“Fuckkkkkk, it’s all so wet. We got you all undone huh? But, you got one more in you. Don’t you? I mean…look at how good you’re doing—makin’ up for playing us…”

Matt is practically speaking to himself. Your lost in complete ignorance, your mind only going blank as the white hot bliss consumes you.

And Chris…

Chris is hungry. He’s fucking you with his long fingers, but his mouth is slurping and sucking on any warm liquid that had landed on your thighs.

“Fuckin’ hold still and take it. Are you still keepin’ score, sweetheart?”

Matt laughs. He laughs because it’s a joke. There is no score—there is no winning. Not for you.

You writhe and throttle your limbs as every part of your body loses control. Matt tightens his grip. He keeps you exactly where he wants as he fucks you through the high.

Juices and creamy liquid create a mess as the boys roll to a stop. You fall limp onto Matt.

“Who won, baby, hm?” Chris asks as he runs his tongue up and down your silky wet thigh.

Matt cradles your head upward, smirking proudly at your hooded eyes.

“Yeah,” he taunts, brushing the hairs off your sticky forehead. “—what’s the score?”

[goooofy-goooober1121]

Good day! I'd like to request Rook with a snuggly S/O. When he stayed at Ramshackle for the VDC, Vil noted that he on average has slept in longer. Little does he know of the prefects nefarious deeds.

HELLO I'M SORRY FOR TAKING FOREVER FOR THIS I AM HERE NOW

I got you homie let's sabotage French Dora the Explorer

Requests are open! Please feel free to send asks!

Reblogs are always appreciated! <3

Tags: Fluff, gn!Reader, Vil being Vil, Rook is DOWN HORRENDOUS, French (😨)

W/C: 785

Five More Minutes

Vil Schoenheit was not a patient man. 

He wasn’t cruel by any means. Just punctual. Committed, as any good housewarden-- and actor-- should be. It was, of course, that timely and meticulous attitude that propelled him to take the reins of Pomefiore and grow such a large influence both in the movie industry and on Magicam. 

His vice housewarden, then, should have been the same. He was the same, following Vil around in awe of the beauty he exuded, pledging himself to fulfill Vil’s wishes so long as they lived. Rook Hunt, for all his eccentricities, was reliable, skilled.

Cut from the same cloth, some would say.

Well, standing in the living room of Ramshackle, Vil wasn’t so sure about that. Perfectly manicured nails tap his watch-- designer, of course-- impatiently. 6:15 AM. Rook had promised him he would convene with Vil sharply at six. Vil wasn’t worried, per se-- more like frustrated. Never once had Rook been late when Vil summoned him, and of course the first instance of tardiness would happen in the critical weeks before the VDC. 

He couldn’t imagine what was taking him so long. 

Rook Hunt was in a predicament.

A very snuggly, warm predicament. 

One that involved pillows, blankets, and a very sleepy lover. 

“Ma moitié,” he whispered, smiling. “You have made me late.”

“Mrphhh…” came your reply, arms twisting like fig vines around his body. 

Rook should have known he would have no chance of escaping the moment he walked into your room last night. It was innocent, really, under the pretense of stealing away precious time together amongst the chaos of the daytime preparations for the VDC. He should have gone back to his room the moment the cuddling made him sleepy. 

He didn’t, and now every time he shifted, your arms would only tighten. It was like struggling in quicksand; the harder you tried to get out, the faster you sank. 

Rook did, however, admit that he didn’t mind it-- not if that quicksand was you. 

“Ma moitié,” he repeated, chuckling. “Roi du Poison will be very unhappy.”

“Roi du Poison can get his own boyfriend,” you grumbled back, burying your face in his shoulder. “This one is mine.”

Rook laughed, his lips pressing gently to the crown of your head. “We will both be in trouble.”

“Fine by me. In sickness and in health, right? In diva fury and in morning snuggles.”

“I do believe that is a wedding vow, ma moitié. We are not married,” answered Rook. “Not yet.”

“I’m rehearsing,” you countered.

“You’re sluggish.”

“No,” you said, breathing in the faint scent of his body wash. “I’m expressing my undying love.”

Rook let out something between a scoff and a laugh, giving you a gentle squeeze. Even with half of your face buried deeply in his sleepshirt, you were beautiful. His eyes travelled appraisingly, adoringly, across your features as if he were inspecting a piece of art masterfully crafted and hung in his own personal museum. They began at your hair-- your wonderful hair that fell so flatteringly around your face. It always felt so lovely to touch, scented with that shampoo you always mention enjoying the scent of. Then his gaze travelled down to your brows. He thought those were just as worthy of reverence. The way they knitted when you focused on a task, the way they raised when you were happy or surprised-- even the way they curved into sad slopes when you cried. Those emotions of yours-- those big, beautiful, dynamic emotions-- simply ensnared him, and it was your brows that served as the vehicle of expression. He thanked them internally for allowing him to see you wholly. 

The way your lashes rested on your cheeks, rooted along your perfect eyes. The enchanting slope of your nose. The softness of your lips that always knew how to kiss him, what to say. Your angelic skin-- blemishes and all. 

You were utterly pulchritudinous. An absolute doll, inside and out. 

Rook had spent his entire life in search of true beauty. Laying beside you, with your warmth in his arms, he was sure he had found it. 

“Five more minutes,” came your sleepy voice. Even your slurred, sleep-syruped cadence set his heart aflame as though he had heard a most moving orchestral piece. “Please, Rook?”

And Rook smiled once more, settling himself further beneath your covers. He kissed you in that moment, reverentially and gently as though saluting a rose. It almost pained him to pull away and deprive himself of your lips-- though that moment of mourning melted away when you gazed upon him so sweetly.

Five more minutes with you was worth being scolded a hundred times over by Vil Schoenheit.

“I would be honored.”

A/N: Rook is such boyfriend material I wish French people were real

[vunblr]

Spells and Fangs

Pairing: Worgen!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Smut. Unprotected sex. Dirty talk. Soft-dom!Bucky. Possessive!Bucky.

Summary: Bucky, a grumpy worgen warrior, and his sharp-tongued mage partner are sent on a relatively simple quest that quickly spirals into chaos.

Word Count: About 12k.

Notes: Ok, this one is... heated, I'm sorry beforehand (not).

Worgen=Werewolf. I’ve been playing World of Warcraft for 15 years, and even though life keeps me away, I’m always eager to return. That said, you don’t need to have played WoW to enjoy this story (though if you have, feel free to comment!).

The golden expanse of Westfall stretched endlessly beneath a bruised sky, and the faint scent of rain hung in the air. Rolling grain fields, left untended for far too long, waved like restless ghosts in the wind. To the south of Moonbrook, jagged cliffs met the turbulent sea, its waves crashing against the rocks with a rhythmic, almost hypnotic fury.

It wasn’t an inviting place, not anymore. The days of bountiful harvests and tight-knit farming communities were long gone, stolen by bandits, gnolls, and worse. The remaining folk clung stubbornly to their land, driven by defiance and desperation. And if you asked them, the worgen prowling over from Duskwood to raid the struggling riverside farms were on top of the offender's list.

Near the cliff's edge, a small clearing hosted a half-pitched tent flapping uselessly in the rising wind. A warrior with a scowl etched deep into his face knelt beside it, hammering a stake into the rocky ground with more force than was strictly necessary. Standing a few feet away, a mage held the sagging canvas taut, glaring daggers at him.

"You had one job, Buck," she bit out, exasperated as the wind tugged at her robes.

“The idiot deserved it, and you know it,” he muttered, not bothering to look up.

She let out a humorless laugh, sharp enough to cut through the whistling wind. “Oh, I know. But that doesn’t mean you had to snap in the middle of the inn. For Light’s sake, Bucky, all you had to do was keep your temper in check. We were finally about to get a decent night’s sleep. But no, you had to let your claws show.”

His lip curled, and hint of a snarl escaped his throat before he caught himself. “The bastard invited you to ‘polish his greatsword’ while groping himself under the table. What was I supposed to do?”

“Nothing! Nothing would’ve been perfect. I could’ve frozen his excuse of a dick and left him weeping into his ale. Then we could’ve stayed, and maybe even conned him into buying an overpriced healing potion for his bruised ego since there isn’t a decent merchant in this God-forgotten place. But no, you just had to make it personal.”

Bucky let out a huff, standing to stretch his shoulders. The motion pulled his vest taut, and her eyes flicked down for the briefest of moments before she caught herself and snapped her gaze back to the tent. He mumbled under his breath, “He had it coming.”

She didn’t let him off the hook. “Please. You just took the opportunity to vent because Steve sent us to kill nagas on the beach. And you hate the coast because when you shift, the sand gets into your fur and other places you don’t-”

“Okay, okay,” he interrupted, waving her off with a sharp motion and an uncharacteristic hint of color in his cheeks. “Maybe that had something to do with it. But still, the bastard deserved it.”

She smirked, pulling the canvas tighter over the flimsy frame of the tent. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, big guy.”

He huffed again, crossing his arms, fixing his eyes on the distant horizon.

“Just... remember where we are,” she advised softly, "This isn’t Dalaran or some other cultivated place. These farmers deal with the Duskwood worgens six days a week lately. They don’t believe -or care- that there’s a way for your kind to regain their humanity."

He stiffened slightly at her words. She regretted saying them the moment they left her mouth, but he didn’t snap back. Instead, he shifted his weight, avoiding her gaze entirely.

"We got lucky you only half-shifted, and the owner just asked us to leave instead of raising some kind of alarm."

“Don’t fool yourself,” he muttered. “He didn’t call on us because he knows we’re here to deal with the nagas.”

“Maybe,” she allowed with a slight shrug. “But that’s not the point.”

Bucky exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair as the first fat drops of rain began to patter against the canvas.

Her voice softened slightly as she bent to secure the last corner of the tent, though her gaze stayed sharp. “Look, I appreciate what you did in some way, but you usually let me handle this kind of thing. The last couple of days, though… you’ve been broodier and grumpier than usual, and that’s saying something. This isn’t just about the beach, is it?”

He grunted, keeping his eyes on the stakes. “You’re imagining things. Maybe you’ve just forgotten my charming personality since it’s been a month since our last quest together.”

She quirked an unimpressed brow, crossing her arms as the rain dripped from the edge of her hood. “Thanks to your charming personality, almost no one in the guild wants to team up with you unless we’re raiding. And its why Steve pairs me with you, because apparently, I can ‘handle’ you.”

Bucky squinted up at her, pressing his lips into a thin line.

“Yeah,” she continued, folding her arms tighter as her voice took on a teasing lilt. “So believe me when I say you’re ‘Buckier’ than usual right now.”

He straightened, looming over her slightly, and let out a quiet huff. “Think what you want,” he muttered, brushing past her to retrieve his bedroll from their supplies.

She wasn’t wrong, and he hated how much her observation rattled him. Worse, he hated how easily she could unravel the mask he wore, the one that kept everyone else at arm’s length. But he couldn’t explain why, not without revealing more than he was willing to.

He should’ve seen it coming. Every Gilnean, given their worgen blood, knew what it felt like, that slow-burning tension building incrementally until it exploded into something primal and impossible to ignore. His rut came like clockwork every year, and when it did, he disappeared from the radar, holed up in some remote spot until it passed. Sometimes alone, sometimes not.

This time, though, Steve had insisted the naga situation couldn’t wait. The bounty was too big, the stakes too high, and Bucky, hadn’t argued. He’d thought he had more time before his hormones kicked in. He’d been so wrong. And now? Sharing a flimsy tent with her and her sharp tongue? It was like throwing oil on a fire.

He glanced at her, and his gaze lingered longer than it should have. She was bent over the supplies, muttering under her breath as she organized their gear. The damp fabric of her robes clung to her frame, outlining curves he’d tried not to notice since… well, he couldn’t remember when it started.

He’d been drawn to her for longer than he cared to admit, though he couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it had started. Maybe it was her sharp wit, the way she never backed down from him, or the way she smiled at him when he wasn’t ready for it. Maybe it was just the way she treated him, like he was more than just a worgen with a bad attitude.

Whatever it was, it didn’t help now. Not when every glance, every stray brush of her hand, set his nerves alight and his thoughts spiraling into dangerous territory.

“You’re quiet,” she said, snapping him out of his spiraling thoughts.

“Nothing to say,” he muttered, unrolling his bedroll and laying it out on the ground.

“Uh-huh,” she replied with skepticism clear in her tone. She didn’t press further, though, for which he was grateful. Instead, she settled onto her own bedroll.

The rain drummed steadily against the canvas above them, a soothing rhythm that contrasted with the storm brewing inside him. He clenched his fists at his sides, willing the heat in his veins to subside.

He just had to get through this. The nagas wouldn’t take more than a day or two to deal with, and then he could disappear before she noticed anything was off.

He hoped.

------

Maybe pitching the tent near the treeline by the rift hadn’t been their most brilliant idea. Sure, on paper, it seemed logical, far enough from the coast to avoid naga and murloc patrols, gnoll bands, Defias stragglers, and those damn coyotes. But the coastline's wind and chill seeped through their tent's flimsy fabric, turning the night into a teeth-chattering endurance test.

It wasn’t a problem for him. His worgen nature granted him a resilience she could only envy, but she was clearly freezing. He could hear the faint clatter of her teeth every now and then, no matter how she tried to stifle it.

Both of them were awake, though for different reasons.

“Bucky,” she whispered, cutting through the steady rhythm of the rain.

He didn’t answer, hoping she’d think he was asleep and leave him alone. She knew how hard rest was for him, how much effort it took to him to conceal just a couple of hours of sleep.

“Bucky,” she tried again, her voice sharper this time. “I know you’re awake.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes in the dark. “You can’t see a thing. How do you know?”

“Pfft. Because if you were asleep, you’d be snoring.”

“I don’t-”

“Like a cute little pig,” she added, cutting him off with an audible smirk.

He pressed his tongue against his cheek, exhaling sharply through his nose. Maybe he did. How would he know? He didn’t exactly stick around for morning conversations after his usual flings, and no one had ever mentioned it before.

“Well, what is it?” he asked gruffly.

“I’m cold,” she admitted.

Oh, he knew where this was going.

“I didn’t pack for a quest in Northrend,” she continued, her tone edged with frustration, “and I’m freezing my ass off. Do your thing.”

He stiffened, dread settling low in his stomach. “It’s not that cold,” he dismissed, turning onto his side and hoping she’d drop it.

“Don’t be an ass,” she shot back, shifting to face him. “You know it is, and we could’ve been warm and cozy in the tavern right now if not for your macho display earlier.”

His lips twitched into a snarl before he smoothed his expression. “I’m not shifting.”

“Oh, come on,” she groaned, her breath puffing out visibly in the cold air. “You’ve done it before.”

“That was different, we were really in Northrend,” he grunted.

She rolled her eyes, but her voice softened a little. “I’m freezing, Buck. I wouldn’t be asking you if I did not. Please.”

Her tone made him pause, wavering his internal resistance. He sighed heavily, dragging a hand down his face. This wasn’t fair. Her scent was already messing with his focus enough, and now she wanted to press against him for warmth?

“Fine,” he ground out.

She hummed in approval as he shifted with practiced ease. He took off his vest and his bones cracked and muscles rippled, becoming larger, thick dark fur covered his body and deathly claws grew on his hands. He didn’t dare to meet her gaze as she scooted closer, curling her smaller frame into his side.

“See? Not so bad,” she murmured, her voice muffled against his chest while she poked at his snout. “Warm and cozy. You’re practically a luxury fur rug.”

His lips twitched, a reluctant smile threatening to break through the scowl he’d carefully crafted. “Glad I could be of service,” he muttered dryly.

She snorted softly, the sound more endearing than he’d ever admit. “Don’t act like you’re suffering. You’re just grumpy because I called you out.”

“I’m grumpy because I’m stuck in the middle of nowhere with you,” he retorted, but the words lacked venom.

She didn’t reply immediately, and he thought she might’ve finally fallen asleep. But then, she spoke again, quieter this time.

“For what it’s worth, thanks, Buck.”

He didn’t answer, tightening his jaw as he tried not to focus on how perfectly she fit against him. Her scent -warm and familiar- filled his senses, sending a deep, instinctual thrum through his veins.

This was going to be a long night.

------

The night dragged on, and though she moved only a couple of times, it was enough to drive him mad. Normally, her restless shifting wouldn’t have been an issue. But now, with his traitorous body on high alert and her nestled against him, it was sheer torment.

At some point, she settled in just the wrong -or perhaps right- position. Her back molded to his chest, her softer form impossibly close. His body reacted before his brain could catch up, and before he knew it, his arm was slung possessively around her waist.

And she didn’t resist. If anything, she leaned into him, her unconscious search for warmth becoming his greatest torture. When her hips shifted slightly, her rear brushing against his growing arousal, Bucky clenched his jaw so hard it hurt.

His instincts roared, the part of him tied to his worgen blood demanding he take what was so temptingly close. His hand twitched against her waist, his claws threatening to pierce the fabric of her robe as he fought the overwhelming urge to act. He bit down on the snarl building in his throat, forcing himself to remain still.

He closed his eyes, his breath was shallow and uneven as the storm outside raged on. This wasn’t him. No matter what his instincts tried to tell him, he wasn't an animal. She trusted him, and saw him as more than the beast he sometimes feared he was. He wouldn’t betray that, no matter how much his body protested.

When the first hints of dawn painted the horizon, he couldn’t stand it any longer. Carefully, he disentangled himself from her, doing his best not to disturb her sleep. He draped his mantle over her before slipping out of the tent into the cold rain.

-----

When she woke, the patter of rain against the canvas was the first thing she noticed. Then the weight of his cloak over her shoulders. She blinked, groggy, and glanced around the empty tent.

“Figures,” she muttered to herself, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

Shivering slightly, she wrapped herself tighter in the mantle. It smelled like him, a mix of forest, leather, and something she could only describe as uniquely Bucky. She smiled faintly, shaking her head, and began rummaging through their supplies. He might be gruff and impossible, but he always made sure she was taken care of, and she had to admit she liked it. It didn’t take much to guess where he’d gone, either scouting or standing under a tree somewhere, brooding and keeping watch.

Meanwhile, Bucky stood at the edge of the clearing, soaked to the bone. He barely noticed the cold, his mind was too preoccupied with wrestling his instincts back under control. His claws flexed against the damp bark of a nearby tree, and he exhaled slowly. Her scent still clung to his body, haunting and maddening. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tension to leave his body.

“She’s your teammate, not your mate,” he muttered under his breath, the words as much a reminder as a warning.

But no amount of logic could shake the truth he’d been denying for far too long. She wasn’t just a teammate, not to him. And the more time he spent near her, the harder it became to ignore the pull.

------

Four times.

Four times Bucky had to jerk off and relieve himself before he felt remotely human, or as human as someone like him could feel. By the time he returned to the tent, the rain had lessened, though his damp hair clung to his forehead and his shirtless torso glistened from the early morning mist.

Inside, she was sitting cross-legged with her bag open beside her. She barely looked up when he ducked inside, muttering a gruff, “Morning.”

Her eyes flickered to him, her lips twitching into a half-smile. “Morning. Glad you shifted back; otherwise, the wet dog smell would cling to everything.” She tossed him a magic-infused bun with a wink.

He caught it with ease, biting into it harder than necessary. The faint hum of magic in the pastry soothed his body slightly, though his mind was still frazzled.

She, meanwhile, was doing her best to keep her gaze fixed on his face. The early hour and her half-awake state didn’t help, and her eyes briefly betrayed her, wandering down the lines of his scarred torso. She caught herself quickly, clearing her throat as she focused on his stubbled jaw instead.

“Didn’t sleep last night?” she asked, tilting her head as she studied him.

He almost choked on the bite of the bun. “Why?”

She arched a brow. “Well, the shadows under your eyes and your miserable face give off a certain vibe.”

He scowled, finishing the bun in two quick bites. “If only someone had stayed on her side of the tent instead of tossing around all night,” he muttered.

“Oh, please,” she shot back, rolling her eyes. “Next time, I’ll freeze myself in place so you can have a peaceful night.” She reached into her bag, pulling out a small green vial. “Here.”

Bucky wrinkled his nose, glaring at the potion like it had personally offended him. “Those taste like shit.”

“And you look like shit, so…” she replied, thrusting the vial toward him.

With a dramatic groan, he snatched it from her hand, muttering something under his breath about bossy mages.

She smirked, leaning back on her hands as she watched him grimace through the first sip. “You’re welcome,” she said sweetly.

Bucky shot her a withering look, but there was no real heat behind it. He downed the rest of the potion in one go, resisting the urge to spit it out.

“Better?” she asked, her tone laced with amusement.

“No,” he grumbled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. But the faint twitch of his lips gave him away.

-----

“Tell me again why I have to carry the bag with naga thumbs strapped to my waist?” she huffed, launching a frostbolt straight into the face of an approaching murloc.

“Because I don’t want them to rot and start reeking like shit,” Bucky replied, his tone edged with impatience. He swung his sword with brutal efficiency, sending a naga’s head flying in a clean arc. “Just keep them cold and keep moving.”

She rolled her eyes, shifting the grisly sack at her hip as she prepared another spell. “Yes, master. As you wish, master,” she mocked, her voice dripping with exaggerated deference.

“Shut it,” he snapped without looking back, slicing through another naga like it was nothing.

“What’s the matter, master?” she continued, undeterred. “Does your fluffy tummy hurt? Want me to rub it?”

His grip on his sword tightened. No. He wanted her to rub something else, and that was precisely the problem.

He growled low in his throat, shaking off the thought as he tore through another wave of enemies with grim focus. Every word out of her mouth made it harder to concentrate, and the sooner they finished this quest, the better.

For his sanity.

“Focus,” he barked, sending another naga crumpling to the ground.

She smirked but didn’t push further, summoning a frost nova to freeze the remaining enemies in place. “I am focused,” she replied with a smug tone. “Maybe you should try it sometime.”

Bucky muttered something under his breath -probably a curse- and powered forward, determined to reach the end of this hellish mission before she drove him completely mad.

-----

"I'm not carrying the head to Stormwind. I'm letting you know right now," she called over her shoulder, crouched in front of the naga commander's treasure chest.

Bucky, still looming near the mangled remains of the commander, huffed. "I figured. It's too heavy for you anyway."

With a sharp crack of bones and the sickening squelch of shifting tendons, he reverted to his human form, standing shorter and more composed but no less intimidating. He rolled his shoulders, adjusting to the familiar but always slightly uncomfortable sensation of transformation.

"Anything useful in there?" he asked, wiping blood and ichor off his blade with a rag.

“Actually, yes,” she replied, holding up two gleaming rings. “Looks like someone left us a caster and a melee ring. Lucky day.”

She tossed the melee ring to him without warning, and he caught it effortlessly with one hand, inspecting the intricate etching along the band.

“Aww, look,” she teased, holding up the caster ring. “They match.”

Bucky squinted at her, his lips twitching as if fighting back a smirk. “Great. Now we can get married and settle down in Kharanos.”

She snorted, slipping the caster ring onto her finger. “You’d last a week before murdering the drunken neighbors.”

He chuckled under his breath, sliding the melee ring onto his own finger. “More like a day. But, we’ll have enough ale even for our grandkids”

The banter lingered between them for a comfortable moment, despite the carnage surrounding them.

“Alright,” she stood and dusted off her hands. “Treasure’s looted, commander’s dead. Let’s get back to Stormwind before this starts to smell real bad, and you get extra cranky because of the sand in your ass.” He gave her a pointed look but didn’t talk back.

“Let’s see,” she muttered, already pulling a small portable mailbox from her enchanted bag to let Steve know that they had completed the quest. She tossed it to the ground, and with a flick of her fingers, it unfolded and hummed to life.

Bucky watched her intently, still coiled with tension from the fight. Every part of him was attuned to her movements, even when he didn’t want them to be.

Her brow furrowed as she scanned the glowing letter that appeared before her. “Well, that’s just perfect,” she said, tone dripping with sarcasm.

“What now?” he growled.

She glanced at him, tossing the letter into the air where it dissolved into sparkling motes of light. “We’ve got another job. Steve wants us to go to Duskwood. The guild bank is low on silver ore, and considering it’s nearby...”

Bucky rolled his eyes, letting out a low growl of irritation. “Of course he does.”

“Hey, at least Duskwood has a proper inn,” she quipped, trying to lighten the mood. “And the people there know the difference between Alliance worgen and the monsters lurking in the woods.”

Bucky wasn’t amused. He should’ve been relieved that Duskwood would be less hostile than Westfall, but all he could think about was the proximity, the enclosed spaces, and how hard it was already becoming to keep his instincts in check.

“I’ll go,” he said gruffly, his tone leaving little room for argument. “You can handle turning in the quest in Stormwind. Those fingers are going to start rotting if we don’t deliver them soon.”

She straightened, quirking an unimpressed brow. “Forgive me, illustrious master, but our guildmaster specifically requested both of us.”

“I don’t need backup for something as simple as mining,” he shot back, irritated. “I can handle a few spiders and ghouls on my own. Just go.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, shifting her as she stood her ground. “What’s with you? You’ve been extra bossy today, and for the record, I don’t take orders from you.”

“It’s not an order,” he growled, though it sounded like one. “It’s common sense. I can get the ore faster on my own, and you won’t have to-”

“What? Slow you down?” she interrupted, sharper now.

“That’s not what I meant.” He objected tiredly.

“Really? Because it sure sounds like you’re trying to get rid of me.”

He stiffened, looking away. She wasn’t entirely wrong, but he couldn’t exactly tell her the truth. How could he explain that every moment they spent together was a battle of willpower? That he could barely breathe the same air without the primal urge to claim her clawing at his insides?

“You’re impossible,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Look, I get it. You’re used to being the lone wolf -pun very much intended- but we’re a team in this one, and we’re going to Duskwood together. Got it?”

Bucky’s jaw clenched, dropping his gaze to the ground. He wanted to argue, to push her away for her own good, but the look in her eyes stopped him, he know it very well. She wasn’t bending.

“Fine,” he ground out, strained. “But don’t slow me down.”

Her lips twitched into a smirk. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

As they packed up their supplies and prepared for the journey, Bucky tried to focus on the task ahead, but the tension between them only grew thicker. It was going to be a long trip, and he wasn’t sure if he’d survive it with his sanity intact.

----

The woods were eerily alive tonight, the undergrowth teeming with movement that set her nerves on edge. It was impossible to traverse the area without skirmishing at nearly every turn, and the battered remnants of giant spider corpses littered the path behind them.

“Isn’t it good I came with you?” she asked, flicking a small flame spell at a particularly persistent arthropod. Its charred remains crumpled into ash as she adjusted her grip on her staff.

Bucky grunted in response, non-concomitantly, as he crouched by a silver deposit. He picked effortlessly loosening the ore, and the metal glowed faintly in the dim light filtering through the canopy.

“You’re welcome,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.

“Did you say something?”

“Nope.” She smirked, but her amusement faded quickly as a chill ran down her spine. Her hand tightened on her staff, and she scanned the treeline, feeling the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. “Uh, Buck…”

“What?” he asked, not bothering to look up. “You finally get tired of spiders?”

“Not exactly.”

Something in her voice made him pause. Straightening, he turned to follow her gaze, and his stomach dropped. Emerging from the shadows was a pack of worgens, their eyes were gleaming with a feral hunger that set his instincts ablaze.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, his body shifting almost instinctively. Bones cracked, muscles bulged, and fur erupted as he transformed into his worgen form.

The pack hesitated. He was larger than any of them, and his presence was enough to make a few step back, flattening their ears in uncertainty. But they didn’t retreat. They circled, growling low in their throats, a guttural sound that echoed in the damp night air.

For a long moment, nothing happened. Both sides stood frozen, staring at each other down as if weighing the odds. Low growls and deep, guttural sounds passed between Bucky and the pack, an exchange she couldn’t interpret but that felt loaded with meaning.

She took a cautious step back, and her staff glowed faintly in her hand, though she doubted it would be much use if this went south. “Okay,” she muttered under her breath, “It’s kind of rude, you know. Everyone knows what’s happening but me.”

Bucky didn’t respond, his focus was locked on the pack. He deepened his growl, and the sound reverberated through his chest as his claws flexed at his sides. Whatever language they were speaking, it wasn’t friendly.

She tightened her grip on her staff. “If this is one of those ‘dominance’ things, can we skip to the part where they back down?”

Bucky shot her a brief glance. His glowing eyes were so intense that they sent a shiver through her body. “Stay behind me,” he growled, his voice barely human.

“Oh, believe me, I’m not going anywhere,” she replied, with both sarcasm and genuine unease.

The standoff continued, and the tension was so thick it was almost suffocating. She could feel it in the air, the raw, primal energy radiating from the pack and Bucky himself. She hated to admit it, but even now, amid danger, she couldn’t help but notice the sheer power and command he exuded.

“Any time you want to scare them off would be great,” she quipped nervously, keeping her eyes on the pack.

“I’m working on it,” he rumbled sharply.

The tension in the clearing was suffocating, the pack of worgens circled closer, their growls vibrating threatening in the air. Before she could react, Bucky’s paw encircled her wrist, and he pulled her roughly in front of him.

“W-what?” she gasped, wide-eyed as she looked up at him.

His snout was so close, and his voice was a low, urgent rumble when he asked. “You trust me?”

“Always,” she whispered.

“Alright,” he muttered. Without another word, he leaned down and licked a slow, deliberate stripe along her neck, never breaking his gaze from the pack.

“Buc-” she started, her voice faltering.

“Moan,” he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“What?”

“Just do it. Like you mean it,” he commanded, tightening his grip slightly on her wrist.

Heat rushed to her cheeks as she let out a soft, breathy sound, tilting her head slightly, while her voice trembled with a mix of nerves and compliance.

The pack hesitated, as they exchanged uneasy glances. Bucky growled low and deep, as his free hand moved to the nape of her neck, guiding her downward on her knees with surprising gentleness for the intensity of the moment.

She frowned. “What are you-”

“Rut season,” he growled under his breath, lips close to her ear. “They want to fuck you, and I’m showing them you’re mine.”

Her stomach dropped, and her breath caught as his words sank into her brain. “Oh my god,” she whispered, half in disbelief.

“So, unless you want some fun with those boys,” he continued, dangerously calm, “you’re going to play along.”

Before she could respond, he pushed her neck lower, bending her slightly as he positioned himself behind her. She could feel the warmth of his body, and the weight of his presence almost overwhelmed her as he pressed closer.

His hand brushed the hem of her robe, lifting it just enough to expose the curve of her thighs. Her breath hitched as she realized what he was doing. She wanted to throw him a dirty joke to decompress, protest, or say something, but the gravity of the situation kept her rooted in place.

Bucky hunched over her, his chest brushing against her back as he growled at the pack, sounding primal and territorial, and -oh light- he started to pound and grind against her. His movements were deliberate, and calculated, mimicking the act with enough realism to leave no doubt in the pack’s minds.

“They don’t see much detail from here,” he murmured, his voice low and rough as he panted near her ear. “But it would be wise to show them some… engagement. If you know what I mean.”

The low growls of the pack echoed through the clearing, but they faded into the background as she cast her scruples aside, letting out soft moans and whimpers every time his hips connected with her rear. It was humiliating, sure, but the situation demanded it. Every sound she made seemed to amplify the tension in the air.

Bucky was a storm of barely restrained chaos. Each time their bodies connected, the friction sent a jolt through his body, and it was becoming impossible to ignore the painful erection straining against his pants. He bit back a growl, trying to focus on the task at hand instead of the fact that she could feel every inch of his leaking cock pressing against her.

The pack’s growls began to falter, their aggression giving way to hesitation. But Bucky’s protective instincts burned hotter. The violent intent in their stares toward his mage had his blood boiling. He wanted to tear them, to rip them apart for daring to covet what wasn’t theirs.

And yet, another fire was burning in him, one far more dangerous.

The charade, though necessary, was pushing him to his limit. Her body pressed against his, her soft sounds filling the air, and the scent of her arousal cutting through the damp forest air, it was killing him.

Oh, he noticed.

He noticed how her movements became less stiff, how her breaths quickened with something more than nerves, and how the sounds escaping her lips grew more authentic and less forced.

And she noticed too.

The undeniable hardness grinding and slapping against her clothed pussy was impossible to ignore, and she hated the way her body reacted. Her cheeks burned with the realization of the slickness beginning to gather between her thighs. And worse, she knew he could smell it.

Bucky flexed his claws at her waist, tightening his grip momentarily as a low growl rumbled in his chest. “That’s it,” he murmured darkly but oddly reassuring. “Just a little longer. They’re starting to get the message.”

Bucky inhaled deeply, and his eyes fluttered shut momentarily as her scent overwhelmed him. When he opened them again, they were sharp, glowing faintly in the dim light of the forest. His voice was strained, low, and almost trembling with the effort it took to speak clearly.

“Listen,” he panted, each word carrying the weight of his struggle. “These bastards are going to retreat, and when they do… I need you to cast Frost Nova. On me. And run.”

“What?” she gasped, twisting slightly to look back at him. “Are you insane? I’m not doing that!”

His grip on her waist tightened, claws grazing her robes but not piercing. His jaw clenched as he forced himself to speak through the haze clouding his mind. “I don’t want to hurt you. But I don’t trust myself right now. All I can think about is ripping off that damn underwear and stop this charade.”

Her breath hitched at his words, and her cheeks heated anew.

“But Bucky-” she began, unsure.

“By the Light, woman,” he growled, cutting her off, “Can’t you, just once, do what I say without questioning me?”

The desperation in his voice was unmistakable now, and she froze, torn between the rising fear of what he might do and the unwavering trust she’d always had in him. Her lips pressed into a thin line as her mind raced.

“Alright,” she said finally, not sounding very convinced.

His response was a guttural snarl, but the tension in his body eased, just slightly. “I’ll be fine,” he bit out, though the way his claws flexed told her he was barely holding himself together.

The pack lingered, their yellowed eyes glinted with hesitation as Bucky’s sharp, murderous gaze bore into them. Every roll of his hips against her, every growl rumbling in his chest, was a clear message: she was his, and they had no claim here.

He let out a guttural snarl of finality, slowing his movements until he stopped, and she played along, meowling and whimpering in reaction to his fake release. He leaned forward, almost covering her body entirely with his, growling more menacing than ever before.

Eventually, the tension broke as the pack, deterred by his dominance, slunk back into the shadows of the woods.

After a couple of minutes that seemed like an eternity, he reluctantly moved backward. “Do it,” he commanded, edged with desperation.

For a moment, she froze. She could feel his body trembling against hers, not just from exertion but from the monumental effort it took for him to hold himself back. His claws dug slightly into her sides, not enough to hurt but enough to remind her of how close he was to losing control.

“Now,” he barked, sharp and low.

Swallowing hard, she pushed herself away from him, forcing herself not to look back. With a quick flick of her wrist, she channeled her magic, releasing a Frost Nova that erupted in a ring of ice around him. The spell worked instantly, freezing his limbs in place and rooting him to the forest floor.

Her chest ached as she heard the muffled sound of his growl, laced with frustration, and something else. She forced herself to run, her boots pounding against the uneven ground as she headed toward the road.

Behind her, the crackling sound of ice straining against immense strength echoed faintly. She didn’t stop. She couldn’t.

-----

Maybe telling her to run hadn’t been the most clever idea his clouded mind could come up with. Because now, all he could think about was the chase… and the prize.

Her scent clung to his fur, sweet and maddening, filling his lungs and clouding what little rationality he had left. Each breath only made it worse, feeding the primal hunger gnawing at his control. His aching cock throbbed in time with his heartbeat, every pulse a painful reminder of how badly he needed her.

Something in him snapped.

The ice encasing his limbs cracked audibly before shattering altogether, shards scattering across the forest floor. With a guttural roar, Bucky surged forward, his massive form blurring as he gave in to the chase.

His mind, already teetering on the edge, gave itself over to instinct. Each pounding stride brought him closer to her, his muscles coiling and releasing with terrifying precision. He could smell her panic mixed with something else, something intoxicating. It made his mouth water, his claws flex, and his cock twitch with unrelenting need.

She ran as fast as she could, her robes fluttered as she darted between trees and over roots. But she wasn’t fast enough.

Bucky leaped, the world narrowing to a single focus: her. The thrill of the hunt consumed him, but it wasn’t just the chase, it was the promise of catching her, of claiming what every fiber of his body screamed belonged to him.

----

Her steps began to falter as she reached the road, her breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps. She bent over, hands braced on her knees, trying to recover. She wasn’t built for this kind of thing. She was a mage, for Light’s sake, spellcasting was her forte, not sprinting through a forest or other physical strain.

That’s what she had Bucky for.

Bucky, who would roll his eyes and toss her over his shoulder like a caveman whenever she whined about being too tired to walk.

Bucky, who would scout ahead for the easiest path even though he could tear through any terrain in his worgen form without a second thought.

Bucky, who hunted and butchered their meals with efficiency, ensuring they ate more than stale bread and questionable stew on their travels.

Bucky, who wanted to fuck her.

Her cheeks burned as that particular thought. Not that she hadn’t thought about it before, because she had. Maybe too often for her own good. The idea of him and his hands on her, his low, gravelly voice saying her name in that way that sent a shiver down her spine.

But not like this.

Not the furry kind of fuck.

She straightened, forcing herself to keep moving toward the town. Each step felt like it was taking her further from the chaotic heat of the encounter in the woods, but her mind couldn’t stop replaying the way he’d looked at her: possessive, dangerous, hungry.

And if she was being honest with herself, a small part of her didn’t entirely mind that look.

She almost tripped and cursed, adjusting her robes and glaring down at their impractical hem. Maybe it was time to ditch the flowing fabric and invest in some pants like a sensible person. To hell with Khadgar and his fashionable mage aesthetic. She let out a frustrated sigh, dragging a hand through her hair as she walked. All she needed was to reach the inn, find a stiff drink, and put this insanity behind her.

Oh, but she wasn’t going to make it.

The big, bad, and sexually frustrated wolf had been prowling alongside her, concealed by the thicket, his predatory instincts zeroed in on every step she took. She’d barely made it four more paces down the stone road before her vision blurred with sudden movement.

The next thing she knew, she was pinned.

Her back was pressed against the rough bark of a tree, and in front of her was Bucky. Human, barely. His chest heaved, his shirt torn and clinging to his sweat-dampened skin. He was panting, feral, utterly undone.

Her breath hitched as her eyes raked over him, and before she could stop herself, her thighs pressed together to ease the tingling ache his mere presence provoked.

“H-hey, Buck,” she croaked, her voice trembling under the weight of his stare. “I guess the nova wasn’t to your liking?”

His lips curled into something between a snarl and a smirk, and his gaze dropped to her lips before sliding back to meet her eyes. “Did you really think that would stop me?” His voice was low, rough, vibrating with barely contained hunger.

Her fingers twitched at her sides, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer. “Well according to you, it was supposed to give me a head start.”

He huffed a breathless laugh, his hands braced on either side of her head against the tree. “I guess I subconsciously knew damn well I’d catch you. Since, you know, your stamina sucks”

Her cheeks flushed hot, and her heart hammered in her chest as she struggled to keep her composure. “Yeah, well... there was the possibility that maybe the spell cooled you off.”

“Cool off?” He leaned in, brushing his nose against her temple, dropping his voice into a growl. “You’re the one who’s been driving me insane, running around smelling like... that.”

“Like what?” she whispered, even as she already knew the answer.

“Like you want me to lose control,” he murmured, his lips just barely grazing her ear.

Her traitorous body shivered at his words.

“Would that… be that bad?” she whispered, barely able to get the words out.

His entire body went rigid, curling his hands into fists against the tree bark. A growl rumbled low in his chest, vibrating between them like a warning. Or a promise.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he ground out against her skin.

She tilted her head slightly, forcing herself to meet his burning gaze. “Maybe I do.”

Bucky’s nostrils flared, and he clenched his jaw as if he were fighting an invisible battle within himself. The tension between them crackled like a live wire, and she couldn’t tell if the heat pooling in her belly was from fear, desire, or both.

“Don’t,” he rasped, strained. “Don’t tempt me like that.”

Her lips parted, letting go a soft exhale as she felt the weight of his words. Still, she couldn’t stop herself. “And if I did?”

He snarled, closing the faint distance separating them. His forehead dropped to hers, and his ragged breathing mixed with hers. “Then I’ll show you just how dangerous I can be.”

The words sent a jolt of adrenaline and something far darker coursing through her veins. She swallowed thickly, and her heart hammered against her ribs as she whispered, “Maybe I’m not afraid of danger.”

Bucky’s eyes searched hers, his pupils were blown wide, a thin ring of blue around a sea of black. His lips hovered over hers, so close she could feel the ghost of his breath.

“I don’t know if I can stop,” he admitted.

“Then don’t,” she replied steady, despite the quiver in her knees.

Bucky didn’t move for a heartbeat, his body trembled as he fought his instincts. The moment stretched, before something inside him finally snapped.

His lips crashed against hers, hard and demanding, as though trying to express everything he couldn’t say. She gasped into the kiss, her fingers instinctively tangling in the ragged fabric of his shirt and his long locks, pulling him closer despite the warning alarms blaring in her mind.

His hands moved to her waist, rough and possessive, as though afraid she might slip away. The kiss was a clash of tongues and teeth, raw and unrestrained, but it wasn’t enough, not for him.

He broke away, panting heavily, roaming his gaze over her heated face. “You don’t know what you’ve started,” he growled, low and thick with need.

Her lips tingled, swollen from the force of his kiss. Her fingers trailed up to touch them as her mind spun. “Well Buck, I’m not sure I care,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

His expression darkened, and his body pressed her back against the tree. “Say that again,” he demanded, his tone more animal than man.

She met his gaze, and her stubborn streak flared. “I said, I don’t care, Bucky.”

He let out a sound that was somewhere between a snarl and a groan, and his hands moved to cup her face with surprising gentleness despite the storm raging inside him. “You’re going to drive me insane,” he murmured, brushing her lips with unexpected tenderness.

Her body ached at the contrast, of the softness of his touch against the raw hunger in his voice. She shivered again, and he didn’t miss it.

With a low growl in his throat, Bucky pressed one of his thick thighs between her legs, dragging against the sensitive spot that was already aching for attention. She gasped sharply, and her hands flew to grip his shoulders for balance, but before she could say anything, his hand fisted in her hair, tilting her head back to expose the vulnerable curve of her neck.

His lips were on her a heartbeat later, hot and unrelenting as they trailed along her skin, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses and nips that made her shudder. The scrape of his teeth sent sparks down her spine, and when he growled again, the sound vibrated against her throat and she couldn’t stop the moan that spilled from her lips.

The sound seemed to set something off in him. His thigh pressed harder against her, sending jolts of pleasure as her body instinctively rolled against him. She felt the heat pooling low in her belly, and her mind was a blur of sensation and need.

“Bucky,” she breathed, with a trembling voice.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to meet her gaze, “Say my name like that again,” he commanded, in a rough whisper that made her knees weak.

“Bucky,” she whispered.

His hands tightened on her hips, holding her firmly against him as he leaned in to capture her lips once more. It was messy, desperate, and so consuming that she felt like she was drowning in him, in his scent, in his heat, in his presence.

When he finally pulled back, it was only to grab the front of her robe and tear it apart with a single, feral motion.

“Hey!” she protested, instinctively trying to cover herself.

“You didn’t like it anyway,” he retorted, dark amusement lacing his tone as he tossed the tattered fabric aside.

Her protest died on her lips when his hand moved lower, hooking into her underwear. “And I don’t like these,” he added, low and rough as he shredded the delicate material without hesitation.

Her cheeks flushed with heat as she stood bare before him, and his predatory gaze raked over intently, his expression darkening further when he finally saw the evidence of what he’d only smelled before, the glistening slick between her thighs.

“So damn wet,” he growled. Without preamble, two fingers slipped between her folds, sliding through the slickness before finding her clit.

Her body jerked at the contact, a whine escaping her lips as his touch sent a jolt of pleasure straight through her body. He didn’t hold back, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves with calculated precision, his rough fingertips adding just the right amount of friction to make her toes curl.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice dripping with sinful admiration as he watched her reactions. She was utterly pliant beneath his touch, resting her head back against the tree, lips parted while gasping softly. “So perfect like this.”

She could barely form a response as he kept up his relentless ministrations. Her hands shot out, clutching at his shoulders for balance as her legs trembled under the onslaught of sensation.

“Fuck, Bucky.” she panted, her voice shaky and desperate, as his fingers continued their slow, devastating circles over her clit and her hips moved involuntarily against his hand, seeking more of the friction he was so generously giving her.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, laced with a possessive edge. He leaned in, and his lips brushed against the shell of her ear when he finally buried his fingers inside her. “You feel how good this is? How good you’re gonna feel when I’m finally inside you?”

Her knees buckled at the promise in his voice, and his grip tightened, holding her steady as he continued his ministrations.

His lips trailed along the sensitive column of her neck, and his teeth grazed her skin before he bit down gently.

Her nails clawed at his shoulders and biceps as his fingers worked her relentlessly, curling just right to hit the spot that made her vision blur. “Fuck!” she gasped.

“Feel so good, don’t you?” he murmured against her skin, as his thumb kept circling her clit with maddening precision. “So damn wet for me, and I’ve barely started.”

Her hips moved in tandem with his hand, grinding against him as if she couldn’t get close enough. Every thrust and curl of his fingers, every swirl of his thumb sent waves of pleasure through her body and she was about to snap.

“Oh fuck,” she moaned again, and her head lolled back as he continued to mark her neck. She was completely at his mercy, and her body trembled, as the heat built low in her stomach, threatening to unravel her completely.

“Chase it,” he rasped, pulling back just enough to lock eyes with her. “You’ll be so fucking beautiful when you let go.” His words were her undoing. Her body arched, and a sharp cry left her lips as she shattered, clenching around his fingers as the pleasure crashed over her like a wave.

Bucky didn’t ease up, and his fingers continued their relentless pace, driving her deeper into a haze of pleasure. She squirmed, pushing at his chest in a feeble attempt to stop him, but he didn’t budge. His other hand gripped her hip firmly, pinning her against the tree.

“Bucky,” she whined, her voice breathless and trembling, “I… I can’t-”

“Yes, you can,” he growled, with authority. “And you will. I’m not done with you yet.”

She gasped as he slid a third finger inside her, stretching her further. The sensation was overwhelming, but it teetered dangerously close to pure bliss. His thumb continued its torment on her clit, and her thighs shook as another wave of heat coiled low in her belly.

“That’s it,” he rumbled, his lips brushing against her ear. “I want you ready to take all of me, sweetheart. You’re mine, and I will make sure you know it.”

“Oh, cocky, aren’t we?” she tried to quip, but her voice shook as she clung to the last shred of control she had left.

His deep chuckle vibrated against her skin, “Yeah,” he retorted, his lips curling into a feral grin. “Cocky, indeed.”

Her response was lost in a breathless moan as he curved his fingers again, finding that perfect spot and sending sparks shooting through her body. She couldn’t think or do anything but cling to him as he worked her over with ruthless precision.

Bucky’s blue eyes bore into hers, feral and wild, “Come on,” he murmured, low and commanding. “Give me another one. Show me how good you can be for me.”

Her body betrayed her completely, tightening around his fingers as he pushed her closer and closer to the edge once more. His relentless dominance was intoxicating, and she hated how much she wanted to fall apart for him all over again.

“Don’t you dare stop,” she whined, “or I swear I’ll put bubblegum on your tail the first chance I get.”

Her body trembled violently as her climax tore through her, making her see stars. It was the most intense release she’d ever felt, and it left her gasping for air, every muscle in her body turning into jelly.

Bucky chuckled, clearly satisfied with the way she fell apart under his touch. Slowly, he withdrew his fingers, glistening with her slick, and without warning, brought them to her lips.

“Open,” he commanded, in a rough growl.

Her dazed eyes blinked up at him, but she obeyed, parting her lips. He pressed his fingers onto her tongue, making her taste herself. Before she could process it further, he leaned and crashed his mouth against hers.

He licked at her lips, her tongue, and his own fingers still in her mouth, mingling their breaths in a way that felt so filthy and erotic that it made her head spin.

His other hand cradled the back of her head, keeping her in place as he deepened the kiss, his feral nature showing in the raw hunger with which he devoured her.

When he finally pulled back, her lips were swollen and slick, and her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath. Bucky’s blue gaze glowed with pride and desire, and his mouth curled into a wicked smirk.

“You taste so damn good,” he murmured, thick with arousal. “Every part of you.”

Unable to hold back any longer, he fumbled with his belt and nearly tore his pants apart to free his throbbing, leaking cock. A guttural groan escaped from his throat as the cool air hit his heated length.

His glowing eyes locked on hers, filled with feral hunger. “And now, magic bun,” he rasped, “I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk… and then some more.”

With one hand, he gripped the back of her knee, lifting her leg to spread her wide. The other wrapped firmly around the base of his shaft, guiding it between her slick folds. He groaned low and deep as the head of his cock pressed against her clit, grinding teasingly against her sensitive bundle of nerves.

She gasped, and her head fell back against the tree as the tantalizing friction sent shockwaves of pleasure through her body. “Bucky…” she breathed half a plea, half a warning.

“Patience.” he growled. Slowly, torturously, he began to push forward, as the thick head of his cock stretched her inch by inch.

Her nails dug into his shoulders, and her breath hitched as he split her open, his size forcing her body to adjust to the overwhelming intrusion. He paused briefly, giving her time to catch up, though his trembling muscles betrayed how much restraint it was costing him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his forehead pressing against the tree as he sank deeper. “So tight, so perfect.” He lifted her other leg from behind her knee and pushed again.

She whimpered, rolling her hips instinctively to meet him, drawing a shuddering growl from his chest. Her body stretched and molded around him, every nerve alight with pleasure and the intoxicating mix of pain and anticipation. Her breath came in short, heated bursts as her lips sought out his stubbled jaw, lingering before she nipped at his skin. It was soft but enough to provoke, enough to draw a growl from deep within his chest.

"Keep going, big guy," she whispered, her voice husky and laced with a mix of daring and need.

“Careful, sweetheart,” he rasped, “Once I start, there’s no stopping.”

Her hands slid up his chest, grazing the muscles beneath his shirt with her nails. “Good,” she breathed, “because I wasn’t planning on stopping you.”

That was all the confirmation he needed. With a guttural sound, Bucky thrust forward, stretching her inch by maddening inch. He kept his eyes locked on hers, watching the way her lips parted in a gasp, her pupils blown wide with pleasure.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his voice a broken growl as he sank deeper, claiming her completely. Her nails dug into his skin as her body arched against him, and a soft cry escaped her lips.

He rolled his hips again, slow but deliberate. “You feel that? That’s all me, and I’m not stopping until I’ve emptied my balls inside you, magic bun."

The vulgar promise sent a new wave of heat through her body. Her fingers tightened on his shoulders, nails biting into his skin as her body clenched around him in response.

“You talk a big game,” she managed to tease, the faintest smirk curling her lips despite the haze of pleasure overwhelming her.

Bucky chuckled darkly, “Oh, you’ll see just how big.” he growled, snapping his hips forward sharply, drawing a gasping cry from her.

He didn’t give her a chance to recover, since his movements became relentless in a punishing rhythm that was intoxicating. Every thrust pushed her higher, her moans grew louder, unrestrained, as his words and actions blurred her ability to think of anything but him.

"That’s it," he murmured against her ear, his voice ragged. "Take me. Take every damn inch."

His pace grew rougher, more determined as if his life depended on claiming her body completely. Each thrust drove her harder against the tree, and every delicious drag of him against her sensitive walls made her body sing.

“God, you’re tight,” he groaned, his lips brushed against her ear. “Like you were made for me. Do you feel that? Feel how perfectly I fit inside you?”

“Y-yeah, I feel it,” she stammered, her voice trembling with pleasure.

“You’re gonna take everything I give you,” he continued, his voice dripping with feral hunger. “Every. Last. Drop.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust, making her cry out in ecstasy.

Her nails scraped down his back, leaving marks that only spurred him on. “Bucky! oh, fuck… I can’t-”

“Yes, you can,” he growled, gripping her hips tighter. “You’ll take it, every inch, every load, until you’re dripping with me. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

She could only whimper in response, her head falling back as he angled his hips just right, hitting that perfect spot that made her see stars. Her body tensed, the overwhelming pleasure building to a breaking point. “Bucky, I’m gonna- oh!”

“That’s it, cum for me,” he commanded, “Squeeze me, magic bun. Milk my fucking cock!” he growled, his voice rough and ragged as he felt her clenching around him. He could feel his balls tightening dangerously, and with a guttural roar, he drove into her one final time.

“Fuck! Just. Fuck,” he groaned, his hips jerking uncontrollably as he spilled inside her, thick, hot ropes of cum filling her up while he panted against her neck.

Her breath came in sharp, uneven gasps, and her legs shook as he held her up against the tree, keeping her pinned as he emptied himself into her.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, resting his forehead against hers, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

She gave a breathless laugh, still shaky. “There goes your endurance”

He smirked, pressing a lazy kiss to her lips. “Don’t think we’re done, though,” he murmured, sliding down his hands to cup her ass. “Not until I’m sure you’ll feel me with every step tomorrow.”

"Bucky-" she started, but he pulled out his still-hard cock and gently set her down, immediately latching his mouth onto one of her neglected breasts. His teeth grazed her sensitive skin as he sucked and nipped, leaving her gasping.

“Oh, how many times did I imagine milking these,” he murmured against her flesh, his voice thick with want.

She quirked a brow at him, managing to ask between pants and squeals when he got rough. “Really?”

“Oh yeah,” he growled, squeezing both breasts with his large hands to make his point. “Every fucking time we shared a tent and you pressed them against me in your sleep. You have no idea what you did to me.”

She let out a sharp gasp, caught somewhere between indignation and arousal. “You creep! Ah!”

He chuckled, flicking his tongue over her hardened nipple. “I’m not a saint, but believe me when I tell you, another man wouldn’t have held back. They’d have taken advantage.”

Her fingers wove into his long, dark locks, an unexpectedly tender gesture despite the heated moment. She tilted his face up slightly, meeting his gaze. “I know. But you’re not just ‘another man.’ You’re my partner, and since our first quest, I’ve always known I was safe with you. Grumpiness and brooding aside... you’re the best.”

His movements stilled for a moment, then he pressed his forehead against her chest, brushing his lips in the swell of her breast as he exhaled deeply. “You don’t know how much that means to me,” he admitted, raw and almost vulnerable.

She smiled, scratching lightly at his scalp. “You don’t make it easy, but you’re worth it, Barnes.”

His blue eyes flicked up to hers. “I don’t deserve you,” he muttered, still exploring her body with his hands, tracing every curve.

“Not the time for the monthly self-loathing spiral.” she chastised. Her hand slid down his chest, fingers dancing over the hard ridges of his abs before continuing lower. When her fingers encircled his shaft -or at least tried to-she began to pump him slowly.

His breath hitched, sharp, and audible, and his hand shot out, grabbing her wrist. “Don’t,” he ground out, his voice rough and almost desperate.

She knit her brows, confused. “Why not?”

He kept his grip firm, clenching his jaw as he averted his gaze, with a flushed face. “Now’s not a good time,” he muttered. “Maybe... maybe when I’m not rutting.”

Her head tilted slightly, studying him. “What’s the difference?”

His grip on her wrist tightened just slightly, and his eyes flicked back to hers with a mix of restraint and frustration. “If I get too... invested,” he admitted, almost growling, “I’m going to shift.”

“Oh.” Her lips parted to say something, but she hesitated, caught between curiosity and concern.

“It’s not just about me losing control,” he added, almost hesitant. “If I shift mid-act, it’s... it’s a lot. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Her gaze softened, and she cupped his face with her free hand. “Bucky, you’ve never hurt me,” she said gently. “And I don’t believe you ever would.”

He leaned into her touch for a moment, exhaling heavily.

“I won’t let you get away with what you want as always. Not with this.”

“But-”

“Shut it,” he growled, cutting her off as he turned her around and manhandled her to the ground on her hands and knees, his discarded cloak softening her landing. His voice dropped into a commanding snarl, rough and dangerous. “Now I’m going to keep getting what I want, and you will take it.” He spread her thighs open with his knee. “You’re only going to open that pretty mouth of yours to moan or cry out my name.”

“Bossy now, aren’t w-” she began, sassy, but she didn’t get the chance to finish. His hand came down on her ass with a loud, stinging smack, making her gasp.

“You just had to insist on being a brat and coming with me,” he hissed, his lips close to her ear, his voice dripping with frustration and unbridled heat. “And then I had to fake fucking you in front of a bunch of horny bastards.”

His hand kneaded the spot he had smacked, “Now, magic bun, you’re going to pay for every second of that torture.” His hands gripped her hips possessively, dragging her back against him, pressing his leaking cock into her ass.

“You think I didn’t notice?” he muttered darkly, sliding a hand down between her legs “You’ve been soaking since that little show.” He pressed his fingers against her pussy. “This? This is all mine.” He growled and pressed the thick head of his cock against her entrance, already slick from his cum and her fresh wave of arousal. Without hesitation, he thrust inside her, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful motion. She cried out, arching her back as she adjusted to the sudden, overwhelming fullness.

He groaned, “So perfect, magic bun. Taking me so well.”

Her fingers dug into the cloak beneath her, and her breathing ragged as her body tried to accommodate his size. “Fuck...” she gasped, a mix of protest and pleasure.

He leaned over her, pressing his chest against her back as his lips found her shoulder. He nipped at her skin, sharp enough to leave marks, each bite sending a jolt of electricity through her already overstimulated body.

“Bucky,” she moaned, her arms trembling as she tried to hold herself up under the force of his thrusts.

“Don’t stop saying my name,” he demanded roughly against her ear. His hips snapped forward harder, and his cock hit that perfect spot inside her with every hard thrust.

She whimpered, dropping her head forward as her body surrendered completely to him. He growled approvingly, sinking his teeth gently into her shoulder before licking the sting away.

“You’re mine,” he rumbled as he drove into her relentlessly. “Say it.”

“I- I’m yours,” she gasped, her voice barely more than a whisper, but he heard her loud and clear.

“Yes, so damn mine,” His hand slid up her spine, possessively fisting her hair and pulling her head back. The exposed line of her throat and shoulders was too tempting to resist, and he sank his teeth into her skin again, marking her.

The wet slap of his balls against her clit grew louder, mingling with her breathless cries and his guttural groans, creating a symphony of pure, unrestrained need that echoed through the forest.

“Buck, y-you’re so deep,” she choked out, clawing her fingers at his discarded cloak for stability.

He chuckled darkly against her skin. “Deeper still, magic bun,” he rasped, his voice filled with raw determination. “I want to feel your womb kissing the head of my cock.”

He withdrew almost entirely, leaving her desperate and trembling, only to thrust back in with a force that had her crying out. His pace quickened, each stroke harder and more deliberate than the last, pushing her toward the edge of sanity.

Her walls clenched around him, pulling him deeper, and he cursed under his breath, the sensation driving him wild. “Fuck, you’re perfect,” he growled, his free hand gripping her hip so tightly she was sure it would leave bruises. “Made for me, made for this”

She moaned, arching her body, her knees threatening to give out under the relentless pleasure, as her body rocked with every thrust. He let go of her hair and reached down to play with her swollen clit, rubbing it in time with his thrusts. “Take it,” he growled, dark and commanding. “You’re gonna carry me,” he murmured, thrusting harder. “Gonna fuck you so full you won’t have room for anything else. My scent, my seed, on you, in you, everywhere.”

“Oh, fuck, Bucky,” she whimpered, her thighs quivering as she clenched around him, her body responding instinctively to his filthy promises.

She meowled, and her body responded with another involuntary squeeze around his cock. He groaned, the pressure almost undoing him. “That’s it,” he hissed while his pace grew erratic. “Gonna breed you, leave you dripping for everyone to see. “You want it, don’t you?” he rasped, circling her clit faster. “Say it. Tell me you want me to fill you up.”

“I-I want it,” she gasped, the words barely leaving her lips before another sharp thrust sent her spiraling.

He groaned as her walls pulsed around him, and he buried himself to the hilt. “Fuck!,” he growled, as his cock twitched inside her. “You’re gonna take it all. Every last drop. No one else gets to have you, just me.”

The orgasm hit him like a storm, spilling thick ropes of cum into her, the heat of his load making her whimper. He thrust a few more times, grinding deep as if determined to leave no part of her untouched.

His movements slowed, then stilled, and he remained buried inside her for a moment, his chest rising and falling against her back until he finally withdrew, groaning softly at the loss of her warmth. He pulled her down gently onto his discarded cloak, spooning behind her. The feral aggression that had consumed him moments before seemed to melt away, leaving behind a calmer, more satisfied version of himself.

“You alright?” he murmured, softer now as he brushed a strand of her hair away from her face. His hands smoothed over her sides, no longer gripping bruisingly but exploring her curves with a reverence that made her sigh.

“I’m fine,” she replied, still breathless. “But you are totally carrying me tomorrow in a piggyback. I don’t feel my legs.”

His lips twitched into a small, self-satisfied smile. “That was the idea, your limbs around me, where they belong.”

She rolled her eyes and snuggled her back closer to the warmth of his broad chest. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“And you didn’t escape,” he retorted, nipping playfully at her ear.

“Maybe I’m a sucker for punishment,” she quipped, tracing the lines of his forearm where it rested around her waist. “Or maybe I just enjoy being with the guy who acts like a beast but is actually pretty damn sweet when he’s not trying to prove a point.”

He huffed a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. “Sweet, huh? Pretty sure I wasn’t ‘sweet’ a few minutes ago.”

“No, you were something else entirely,” she teased, turning to meet his gaze with a sly smile. “But don’t let it go to your head, big guy.”

Bucky inhaled deeply and buried his nose in the crook of her neck. His hands slid up her side to cup her breast, his rough palm was gentler now as he thumbed over her sensitive nipple. He sighed, utterly sated yet still unwilling to let her go.

“We’ll need the tent,” he murmured and the deep rumble of his voice vibrated against her skin. “We’re not making it to the inn.”

She groaned, grimacing at the thought of wrestling with the cursed contraption in her current state. “Ugh, the tent. Can’t we just sleep out here and hope nothing eats us?”

Bucky chuckled with a low and indulgent sound. As if he’d read her mind, he nipped her shoulder, eliciting a squeak from her mouth. “You’re going to lay there looking pretty, and I’m going to set it up,” he said, leaving no room for argument.

She turned her head to shoot him a skeptical look. “Oh, so you’re all chivalrous now?”

He smirked, brushing his lips against her ear as he spoke. “Don’t push your luck, I’m trying to be nice here.” he muttered, adjusting the cloak around her shoulders as if she couldn’t do it herself. “Since I plan on fucking you again -and maybe a few more times after that- I’d rather you didn’t catch a cold. Also…” His gaze lingered pointedly on her chest. “I don’t want some random traveler getting an eyeful of your bouncing tits.”

She quirked a brow. “Funny, you didn’t seem to care about modesty a few minutes ago.”

He crouched down beside her, tugging the edges of the cloak higher over her chest as he gave her an unimpressed look. “Yeah, well, that was different. I was the one enjoying the view. No one else gets to.”

Her smile widened as she brushed her hand over his stubbled jaw. “Possessive much?”

He just stared at her, leaning down to kiss her, slow and deliberate, as if to remind her exactly who she belonged to. When he pulled back, his lips brushed against her cheek, and he nuzzled her affectionately. “Be good for once and stay put. I’ll set up the tent.”

“Oh, I’ll stay put,” she said with a mischievous lilt, shamelessly traveling her gaze down his naked body. “Enjoying the view.”

He rolled his eyes, but the smirk tugging at his lips betrayed him. He liked her looking at him like that, and she knew it. He made no effort to hide the way his muscles flexed as he moved, taking every chance to show off while setting up the tent.

“Really taking your time there, huh, big guy?” she teased.

“Maybe I am,” he shot back, giving her a knowing glance over his shoulder. “If you’re going to stare, I might as well make it worth your while.”

She laughed as she propped up on her elbows to get a better view. “Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just admiring your… big dedication to the task.”

He shook his head as he secured the last of the tent’s poles. “Come on,” he invited, holding a hand out to her. “Tent’s ready. Let’s see if its sturdy enough for my big dedication.” His smirk widened into a full-blown grin, and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her amusement.

“Always so humble, Buck.” she observed, slipping her hand into his and letting him pull her up.

“Just calling it like it is,” he shot back, pulling her closer until their bodies nearly touched. “And judging by your staring, I’d say you agree.”

She opened her mouth to quip but then paused, frowning. “Um, Buck… by any chance did you bring the sack with the silver or…?”

His confident smirk faltered as his brows knit together. “Of course I-” He stopped mid-sentence, glancing toward the forest, and his expression shifted from cocky to sheepish. “I was a little preoccupied,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck.

She groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Steve will love this.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, stepping closer until he loomed over her. “You think I care about what Steve thinks right now?”

She arched a brow, dropping her gaze lower. “Well, considering you’re standing here without a stitch of clothing and no silver in sight… maybe not.”

His lips curled into a slow, predatory smirk as he took her hand, placing it boldly against his hard cock. “You tell me, magic bun. Does this look like it cares about Steve, silver, or his damn surprise quests?”

Her cheeks heated as her fingers instinctively curled around him. She swallowed hard. “No, it doesn’t” she managed,

He growled, leaning down to nip at her bottom lip. “Now, get in that tent before I lose what little patience I have left.”

Her lips quirked, but she wisely said nothing, turning toward the tent with a sway in her hips that she knew he wouldn’t miss. Behind her, he groaned, with both exasperation and lust.

“Keep that up, magic bun, and we won’t make it inside at all.”

Dividers by: @/strangergraphics

[rkiveslibrary]

How To Train Your Human

Summary: You went into the woods looking for your father, however you ventured too far west and ended up in the territory of the dragons. You thought you'd be incinerated on the spot as tradition states that humans can only enter dragon territory once a year, however it seems your defiance and stubbornness is rewarded when the leader of the dragons takes you under his wing.

Word Count: 18K

Paring: Namjoon/Reader

Rating: 18+ MDNI!

Tags: fantasy, dragon shifter Namjoon, porn with plot, slow burn, some angst, I'm sorry jimin, size kink, size difference, smut, taehyung is a MENACE, big dick joon, pussy eating, fingering, fucking, nipple sucking, belly bulge, namjoon has a big dragon dick idk what to tell ya.

Authors Note: This is a repost of a fic I wrote months ago. I feel like Joon could use more love (and more fics written about him) so I decided to repost this after it got deleted. Enjoy

A03 Link

Also blame this post because phew....

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“Wait! You can’t! Seriously!” A male voice called to you over the sound of the wind as you hiked your skirts higher to avoid the big puddles left behind by last night’s rain and stomped into the town you had spent so much time avoiding as fury and anger rolled off of you in waves, threatening to evaporate anyone who stands in your path.

“I said leave me alone!” You called back to him, not bothering to look at his handsome face as you marched through town watching the people of Frosthill stare at you in shock.

It isn’t very ladylike to storm through town, hiking your skirts up and yelling at someone but you felt this town had ridiculed you enough to the point where you could act out a bit.

“Please! Just listen!” A warm hand closes around your wrist, and you whirl around to face him, your jaw clenched and your eyes wide. He keeps a strong hold on your arm to hold you back.

“Jimin I have heard enough. There is a person! A human! Missing! And your father sent you to what? Shut me up. Reassure me he is doing everything he can while he sits in his office and does fuck all?” You curse rolling your eyes when an older woman standing a foot away tuts at your choice of language.

Well fuck her too

“You can’t just storm his office. He sent me to reassure you we are doing everything possible to find him.” Jimin says eyes wide, as you rip your wrist from his smothering hold and let out a maniacal laugh

“He has been missing for a week Jimin. I highly doubt it.”

You don’t bother to wait for his rebuttal, instead, you trek on as most of the town is now outside their homes staring at you with a mix of shock and fear.

You delicately stepped over a puddle and continued further into town, whatever spell Jimin was under seemed to break as you could hear him calling for you over the wind as you blatantly ignored him once again and finally made it to the town square.

Families were out for their morning walk and nearly jumped out of the way at the sight of you trampling up to them, face screwed up in anger and jaw clenched tight. Little kids were playing by the fountain and they all whispered behind their hands as you passed, you had a feeling you knew what they were saying, old tales passed down from their parents but you continued to march on.

Leaves swirled around your feet and the wind carried Jimin’s pleas for you to stop and listen but you ignored it all over the blood pounding in your ears as you finally made it to The Governor’s office.

The tall brick building stood out against the rest of them as it was the nicest in the square.

You could feel the townspeople closing in as if this was Saturday morning entertainment, and you tried your best to shake that off as Jimin finally caught up to you and once again grabbed your wrist.

“You’re making a scene. Stop this foolishness.” He commanded in a tone that sounded so much like his father that it made you stop and reevaluate.

But a person was missing.

They had been missing for a week

Doing a job for The Governer who didn’t bother looking for him

A whole new surge of anger swelled inside you and you once again ripped yourself from Jimin’s grasp.

“Who cares if I make a scene? This is what they want isn’t it?” You cry out, loud enough for the surrounding people to hear you

Jimin lowers his eyes.

You bite your lip.

“You know full well why I’m doing this Jimin. It’s been a week. Seven days. We both know what lives beyond the town line where he was sent by The Governor.”

Jimin has nothing to say.

Because of course, he doesn’t

“You know why I have to do this. And if you try to stop me again-”

Your voice lowers so only he can hear, you lean in and take in his musky sweet smell and press your cold lips to the shell of his ear.

“That thing I did a couple of nights ago with you, in the barn… consider it done. Forever.”

Jimin’s eyes widen and a blush coats his cheeks as you give him a wink before climbing up the stairs, leaving him dumbfounded at the bottom before throwing open the doors and heading inside.

The lobby is warm and eases the cold that seemed to soak through your bones on your walk here and when you spot The Governor’s receptionist you can’t help but smirk when you see her horrified look at you standing in the office.

'“Good Morning is The Governor busy?” You ask, keeping your voice sweet as you lean on the desk and the door bangs open behind you.

Jimin.

Great.

“I-Uh-Well- he seems to-uh”

“Perfect I’ll see myself in!” You exclaim not waiting for her to stop blabbering as you push open the door to her right and head into the narrow short hallway that leads to The Governers office.

You can hear Jimin muttering something to her but you pay it no mind as you walk the hallway and Jimin’s right behind you again.

You stand in front of the intimidating oak door and poise your hand to knock when you feel Jimin’s presence behind you.

He doesn’t say anything for once and for that you are thankful as you knock three times and a deep voice tells you to enter.

The office is spacious and filled with dark oak furniture and luxurious chairs that probably cost all the money your family has and when he looks up from the papers on his desk he seems not at all surprised to see you.

One of the townspeople must have tipped him off.

“Ah, Jimin didn’t I tell you to talk to her, not bring her here.” Mr. Park says wearily as he shuffles more papers as if it will make him look important and Jimin fidgets next to you.

“I came here myself. Jimin had nothing to do with it.” You say boldly as you don’t bother to wait for an invitation that won’t come and instead, you take a plush dark green chair by his desk and plop yourself down into it.

If The Governor is scandalized by your behavior he doesn’t show it, Jimin however makes a noise in the back of his throat which you choose to ignore.

“Well, I have a feeling I know why you have stomped through town all the way here but do enlighten me in case I am mistaken.” The Governor says leaning back in his chair and taking off his glasses wiping a hand down his weary face.

“Well, I’d like to report a missing person, though according to your son, you are doing everything in your power to find him. I just wanted to make sure as it has been an entire week since he has left. On your orders, I might add.” You snarled as Jimin seemed to press himself further into the wall behind you and The Governor looked shocked you were so boldly talking to him like that.

“As I’m sure my son stated we are-”

You cut him off.

“Jimin did a great job of filling me in on all the things you are doing but I’d like some results, Governor. You sent my father out to gather mahogany for a town project and he was more than happy to do so even though this town has treated him so poorly. Did you do this on purpose to send him away?” You ask flattening your hands over your skirt to hide how badly they were shaking.

“Send him away? Are you accusing me? We did not do this to send him away. We need that wood to rebuild some furniture items in townspeople’s homes. The beds are falling apart. Children are sleeping on the floor. He is the town’s carpenter and inventor after all! He was the perfect person for the job!” The Governor cries out

You stare at him shifting in your chair and letting your thoughts run wild. He has been missing for seven days. He was supposed to already be back but never came home. He has actually been gone for eleven days but he said the job would only take four days, mahogany only grows in the deepest and thickest parts of the forest, where all types of creatures live.

“Governor you know as well as I do that this job was only supposed to take four days. One to head to the deep woods, two to cut down some trees, and one more to haul the wood back. He has been gone for eleven days in total. You are a smart man. We all know the lore and traditions we uphold. You know what lurks in the deepest parts of the forest where said trees grow. We all know the treaty that was formed over two hundred years ago. Did you send my father to his death? He has been called the town lunatic for quite some time now, inventor turned carpenter after the incident with my mother. It would be easy to send him on an impossible task to get rid of him.” You ponder keeping your voice steady and low as your stomach turns at the possibility of it being true.

The Governor shifts in his seat and shuffles more papers on his desk seemingly worried at what you are accusing him of.

“We do have concerns about him not coming back, the only problem is our best men are currently out in the eastern town dealing with some business. Yoongi and his men won’t be back for another two weeks and we can’t exactly call him back for one missing person.” The Governor admits wiping at his brow as you sink lower in your chair.

Two more weeks?

“I can’t wait that long. We can’t wait that long and you know that!” You cry out.

“I understand the concern but my hands are tied.”

“You have other options. Go into the forest and talk to the dragons. You must have a good rapport with them after sending them offerings for so long!” You beg and The Governor lets out a harsh laugh.

“Visit them? When we only visit once a year? The treaty that was signed said we would not impose on each other’s land except once a year to give each other gifts as a sign of peace. Invading their land just to ask about a missing person is suicide!” He cries out face red

You slump further in your chair hanging your head.

“Listen I’m going to be frank with you here. I want your father to be okay. I do. After what happened with your mother. I know how important he is to you and how he’s all you have. But this town just doesn’t have the manpower. All of my men fit for the job are out with Yoongi. This town is ever growing and changing but we just don’t have the manpower right now. And no woman is fit for the job.” He says with a high laugh as if that thought alone is absurd

“So you are going to have to wait. Sorry, that is my final word.” He says eyes full of sympathy but you don’t dare look into them, you received too many of those looks when your mother passed.

However, his blatant comment about how now the woman is fit for the job sent a new wave of anger and hatred through you. In your eyes, women were just as powerful as men regardless of what The Governor or the townspeople thought. You could easily overpower Jimin if you had to and when you whirled around to see him giving you the same sympathetic look his father was giving you an idea formed in your head.

You stood up and bowed slightly to The Governor.

“I appreciate your words, Governor. Can we make a deal? I will be patient and not bother you again until Yoongi’s men are home if you promise me once they are healed up and ready they will go out looking for my father. I would also like it in writing please.”

The Governor’s eyebrows raised but after sending you a simple nod he drew up the papers and within ten minutes you both had signed and the paper was tucked safely into your small pouch that hung around your waist.

“Thank you for your time Governor.” You say humbly as you once again bow and you hear him tell Jimin to be a gentleman and walk you home.

You snicker as everything falls into plan.

The Autumn sun is weak but still feels nice on your face as Jimin keeps a hand on the small of your back as he takes you out of the village and to your humble little stone house at the very edge of town. He is talking the whole way home but you don’t hear him over all the plans and ideas that are swirling around your head.

Jimin’s hand is warm on your back and you shoot him a grateful smile when your house finally comes into sight.

It’s nothing big or fancy. Just a two-story stone house with a coop and barn in the back surrounded by giant trees of many varieties that seem to always cast the house in its shadow.

Jimin brought you right up to the front of the house hand still on the small of your back as the sun dipped behind a cloud casting everything in darkness for only a moment before reappearing.

“There you go safe and sound,” Jimin says with a small smile on his face as you finally lift your head to stare at him.

“Thank you for walking me home Jimin. Even though I was off the handle earlier I appreciate you looking out for me.” You say smiling shyly.

“I’m always happy to help.” He says looking down at your lips not so subtly and you can’t help but smirk.

'“It is quite chilly out here don’t you think? Want to come inside and get warmed up before you head back.” You offer with a tilt of your head as Jimin nods and you let him into your tiny but cozy home.

You move around lighting candles and getting the fire started as Jimin takes the house in. He had never been inside your house as most of your rendezvous had been in the barn out back amongst the soft hay where no one could see.

If anyone knew he was sleeping with the carpenter's daughter.

He shuddered to think what would happen.

Lucky for him you didn’t seem to mind the secrecy and something about the thrill of being caught seemed to turn you on.

Jimin felt his pants tighten when he thought about that night in the barn. How warm and wet your mouth was, how hot you sounded moaning under him as he breached your wet folds with his cock.

You turned around startling him from his lewd thoughts and when your eyes flicked downwards he knew he had been caught.

Jimin also looked down to see his cock sticking out obscenely from his light-colored pants and he blushed furiously as you smiled softly and walked towards him, gracefully slow like you had done time and time before.

“That must be uncomfortable.” You comment reaching a warmed hand down to cup him through his pants and Jimin hissed at the contact.

“I was just…thinking.” He finished lamely as it seemed all the blood in his body had flooded his cock and left him feeling dumb and slow with his words.

“And what would you be thinking about that got you so excited?” You coo applying more pressure and palming the head in a way that has his cock twitching embarrassingly fast.

“The barn. What we did. In the barn.” He says as his eyes flutter closed and his plush lips part to let out a content sigh when you begin to stroke him through his pants.

“That night was memorable for me too you know.” You whisper, unable to stop yourself from leaning closer to him and nibbling gently on his ear.

Jimin shudders at the combination of your mouth and hand and in an instant he pushes you against the small wooden kitchen table and his lips attack yours in a fiery kiss.

You moan into his mouth and your hands leave his bulge to pull him into your small bedroom.

Hands come to rip at buttons and undo laces and by the time you are both stark naked in front of each other, you begin to go at each other again with a new fever that makes you moan and throw your head back as Jimin’s mouth explores your perky breasts.

You reach down to stroke his hardened cock and you feel how much arousal is dripping out of him as you gather it and slide it down his heated length, flicking your wrist as you get to the head making him twitch in your grasp.

“It was so hot watching you stand up to my father like that. Fuck I was so worried I would get erect when I was in his office,” he admits between kisses as his fingers come down to play with your entrance.

The sun is slipping lower in the sky and you know you have to get a move on.

“Fuck me. Jimin, please. I’m so wet for you!” You cry out when his finger circles your clit in a way that makes you arch up into his touch.

You know Jimin well enough to know he likes it when you beg so he pushes you down on the bed lightly and grabs your legs forcing them open.

You see the lust glinting in his eyes when he lines his cock up to your dripping entrance and when he enters you the moan that leaves your mouth is obscene. You throw your head back to give him a free show as he finally fills you to the hilt and takes in your naked form under his body.

“You are so beautiful. You know that right?” He asks as you nod and begin to fuck yourself down on his cock. Taking him this quick will result in you feeling sore the next day but you knew you had to act fast so you began to fuck yourself against him like a needy animal.

Moans were spilling from both your mouths as he fucked into your harshly. The old bed creaked under your bodies but you both didn’t seem to mind the noise. You arched your back to get him deeper and whined out his name as you felt your high approaching quickly.

“Jimin-gonna-f-fuck.” You cry out as his fingers come down to circle your clit and you tip over the edge crying out his name and cuming hard around his length.

Jimin pulls out of you once you recover and spills his seed all over your naked stomach and chest as you watch in awe how his cock throbs in his fingers and how his seed paints you.

Once spent, Jimin flops down on the bed and you head to the small bathroom to get cleaned up. You don’t bother redressing as Jimin has seen it all before and when you come back to your small bedroom he is still on the bed fighting the urge to sleep.

“That was incredible.” He breathes out as his cheek is smushed into one of your pillows and tiredness seems to take over his body.

“Jimin you seem tired. Rest here before you head back.” You coo as you sit on the bed and rub his back in soothing circles.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose?” He asks, though his eyes do flutter closed.

“You are never imposing. Get some rest.” You say kissing the crown of his head as he falls into a peaceful slumber.

Jimin wakes because he feels cold all over. He lifts his head to take in his surroundings and realizes he is still in your home. He smiles to himself as he takes in your scent still lingering on the pillow and when he turns over he expects to see you there patiently waiting for him to wake up.

What he doesn’t expect is for the bed to be empty.

He sits up and slowly dresses himself before moving from room to room to look for you. Worry rises in his chest when he sees all the candles were extinguished and the fire was put out, it wasn’t even warm anymore which meant it must have been put out ages ago.

He worries that someone took you until he sees a note on the table from you.

Thank you for the dagger.

Jimin pales and runs a hand down his front before realizing he never put back on his scabbard. He took it off in the frenzy and left it on the floor of your room.

He runs back to the bedroom but his weapon is nowhere to be found and he lets out a groan of frustration.

You took his dagger. Why the hell would you take his dagger?

Then it dawns on him, you weren’t making peace with his father after all. You were only complying because you had given up on his father ever helping you. Instead, you used his son to steal a weapon that women were not allowed to have and you were going to traverse the cold woods by yourself. That was why you were so eager to bed him. You needed him to fall asleep so you could steal the weapon while it was still daylight.

Jimin bit his lip. He wasn’t sure what to tell his father. No one would believe you had played dirty and overpowered him to steal his weapon. And he couldn’t exactly walk into his father’s office and tell him he had been off having the most mind-blowing sex with you and his weapon got stolen.

Jimin sighed and left the small cabin, briefly staring at the woods that loomed around your property. Hoping you made it back safe as you were the best fuck he ever had.

The woods behind your house were like a second home to you. The air was crisp with autumn and the leaves crunched under your boots as you grabbed at the scabbard around your chest to make sure it was still there.

You had left Jimin in the little cottage alone and hoped he wouldn’t mind that you had borrowed his weapon, well you guessed he didn’t have a choice as you had left over an hour ago.

The crunching of the leaves was the only sound as you traversed the woods and kept close to the path that had been set out before you by generations of woodcutters.

You were grateful you had the idea to change into your father’s clothes before leaving, as a woman alone in the woods was dangerous.

You passed the mighty pine trees and birch trees, knowing that the trees you were looking for were much deeper in the woods.

The air smelt of campfire and you tried your best to steer clear of that as that meant people, and you didn’t want to run into anyone on this path.

You pulled your cloak hood higher on your head to hide your hair as you walked through the woods, ears prickling at every sound around you as you went deeper and deeper.

The trees seemed more spaced out here and you knew you were getting close as dusk was approaching. Surviving a night in the woods without cover was not an option so you kept your eyes out for a small cave that you could hide in until daybreak.

A noise to your right caused you to jump and place a hand on your heart but it turned out to be a small fluffy rabbit sniffing the ground a foot away.

You continued your trek until you found a small cave that was perfect to spend the night in. Your parents had taught you basic survival so you were able to get a fire started and get a can of beans cooking as you waited out the night.

Once morning arrived you cleared everything, checked once again you had Jimin’s dagger, and ventured off into the world.

The town of Frosthill seemed miles away by now and you wondered if anyone would even notice that you were gone beside Jimin.

You shook your head as you pulled your hood up against the morning air.

Not one single person cared when you were in town so why would they bother to care now?

You hiked for several hours. Vaguely aware of where you were going you followed the narrow dirt path and tried your best not to trip on leaves or roots that stuck up from the ground.

The path became narrower with each passing hour and doubt filled your mind as you wondered if this was even the right way.

The path was so covered by leaves you weren’t sure anymore as you twirled in a circle and took in your surroundings.

If you went too far West you would be in their territory and you shuddered at the thought.

Clouds were starting to roll in and you wondered if you were going to get another autumn storm as you peered up into the sky.

However what was blocking out the sun was not clouds, but two dragons circling the area.

Oh shit.

Their bodies were long and wide as their wings flapped carrying them miles within a single second. You clapped your hand over your mouth to stop from screaming as your eyes scanned the area. You needed a place to hide and now.

You had ventured too far west.

You were on dragon land.

You knew the stories of what happened when a human set foot on Dragonland without permission, usually, they never made it out alive.

The dragons were still circling the area seemingly looking for something and you hurried through the woods in search of a cave or a big bolder, anything to hide you.

As you panicked the dragons above seemed to hover in midair as you ran through the forest in search of a hiding place. Twigs and leaves were crunching under your boots and branches slammed at your arms and face. You tried your best to stay upright as it seemed the very forest you were in was trying to reveal you.

Everyone knew you could not outrun a dragon but you didn’t know what else to do as your heart hammered in your chest and every fiber of your being was begging you to run and hide.

You stumbled across a big rock and hid behind it just as something touched down beside you. The scream you let out seemed to echo through the trees as you clapped a hand over your mouth and stood in shock as a dragon landed beside you.

You had never met a dragon before, only heard the stories, so being this close to one was frightening.

It was a big black dragon but you could see gold flecks in his scales as he stared at you. His eyes were narrowed and curious as you stood as still as you could, hoping somehow he couldn’t see you.

Another thump had your chest heaving as you backed yourself into the cold mossy rock as the other dragon touched down on your other side.

This dragon was much bigger and instead of having golden-flecked scales this one’s scales seemed to shimmer a bright iridescent pink and you forced yourself to breathe and not pass out.

The dragons had you blocked in on both sides and you cursed yourself for not heading toward a body of water. Sure maybe you would have frozen to death but it would have masked your scent and made it harder for them to find you.

Bile rose in your throat but you fought to swallow it down as the dragons seemed to stare at each other unsure of what to do.

If they were going to kill you for stepping on their land could they at least get it over with instead of leaving you here frozen in fear as you try your best not to throw up on yourself?

The dragons finally seem to agree as one of them gives the other a slight nod before launching itself into the sky making your hood fly off your head

The other dragon wastes no time and uses its claws to hold you firm before launching itself into the sky after the bigger one.

Your scream gets swallowed by the wind as the dragon follows the other and they take you miles away from where you were just standing. Tears stain your cheeks as the wind whips around.

The journey is short and when you see land coming into view you once again swallow down the bile rising as trees of red and yellow and brilliant orange come closer.

The dragons start to descend and you close your eyes as they seem to nosedive back down to earth.

The dragon that is holding you lets go right before they hit the ground causing to you stumble and hit the mossy earth hard as they touch down gracefully ten feet away.

A harsh pain shoots through your shoulder at the landing as anxiety is gripping you tight, keeping you sprawled out on the forest floor as you breathe in the scent of moss and earth and your senses seem to come back slowly one at a time.

You hear huffs and grunts and bravely lift your head to see the dragons eyeing each other and communicating.

Their sharp eyes flick to yours and for a moment you wonder if it would be best to play dead but you know the scent of your sweat from nerves would give it away, so instead you stay down on the ground and await for what comes next.

The ground shakes and the earth seems to uproot as something much larger and scarier comes into view.

A grand dragon, like nothing you had ever seen before touches down in front of you. This dragon was huge with tar-black scales and wings that were so wide they took up most of the clearing. The dragon’s eyes were pure gold as was his belly. His wings were a mixture of gold and black giving off a sense of importance as he lifted his head and sniffed the air.

He must be the head of the dragons and you knew you were in trouble.

You dipped your head low and prayed under your breath that someone would come to save you when the two dragons that brought you here let out a series of snaps and growls, clearly informing their leader what had happened.

You stayed close to the ground shivering in fear as the leader let out a low warning growl and both the dragons that found you shot into the sky and left you alone with the biggest dragon.

You were visibly shaking, your dagger bit into your chest as you stayed flat on the ground. You didn’t dare make the first move as you felt the dragon sniff the air again and then with a flash he grabbed you in his large talons and dragged you off.

You covered your mouth to stop your scream as he dragged you further into the woods, knocking over trees and storming over land as he found a cave suitable and threw you inside.

Your body hit the earth hard and you moaned in pain as you rolled in a ball and waited for death to take you.

Instead, however, you noticed an eerie silence as the dragon seemed to be doing nothing at all. Your heart hammered in your chest as if it was fighting to stay alive and you steeled yourself before lifting your head.

Gone was the dragon and in its place was a man.

You gasped and shakily stood up bracing yourself on the wall of the cave as you took him in.

He was tall, a lot taller than you with dark hair that fell into his sharp dragon-like eyes which were now a deep brown color instead of gold. His lips were full and his jawline was sharp. He was wearing a simple black outfit that kept most of his body covered but you could tell by his silhouette he was fit.

He procured a black cape and tossed it your way without looking at you. Instead, his eyes were on the sky above as if he were waiting for something. You felt the material under your hands. It was silky but the inside was made of fur and would keep you warm as you held it in your hands you looked up at him with utter confusion.

“Put it on.” He demanded in a gruff tone as you followed his orders and threw it over your shoulders. It smelt manly and spicy and something carnal swirled inside of you.

“What? What’s going on?” You asked as your legs finally gave way and you sunk to the ground. You didn’t wait for his reply and instead, you crawled to the corner of the cave and got sick against the wall.

The man waited patiently for you to finish and when you wiped your mouth and turned around he was still staring at you with those eyes you were sure could see right through to your very soul.

He radiated power and authority and you felt embarassment creep up as you just got sick in front of him.

“What-where? What happened where’s the dragon?’ You asked feeling silly as you slumped against the cold and damp cave wall and you wiped your brow eyeing him standing there.

“How do you suppose we interact with you humans during the yearly offerings? You think your kind can speak dragon. Please.” He scoffs as if your question offends him and you draw the cloak he gave you closer around your body to ward off the chill.

He must sense your distress because he leaves the cave for a moment and returns with firewood. He plops it on the ground in front of you and turns on his heel transforming himself into the big dragon he was once. You push your back against the wall in fright but all he does is blow a small fireball at the fire to light it, then with another turn he turns himself back into the handsome man that was standing before you moments ago.

Your head is swimming with questions and your mouth feels like it has been filled with cotton as you sit by the fire and take it the warmth.

You sit in silence for quite some time until he interrupts your racing thoughts.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions as do I. I have to go out on patrol and will come back and we will talk. You stay here.” He says in a tone that leaves no room for argument.

“That cloak has my scent so no other dragon in the area will come after you while you are wearing it. If you think of leaving it is your choice but I do warn you it's better to stay where you are for the time being.”

He turns his broad back to you and before you know it he is out of the cave and transforming into his scaly self again before he launches himself into the sky.

You don’t know what to think or how to even begin to process what just happened as exhaustion takes over your weary body and you curl yourself in a ball under his cloak and fall asleep.

The smell of food is what wakes you and you lift your head to see darkness has fallen and he is back with two other humans you don’t recognize.

One is just as tall as his leader with a shock of pink hair and is poking at something on the fire. The other is shorter but still very muscular with dark black hair that gives him a boyish look, you notice his hair is flecked with gold as realization dawns on you.

The two dragons that brought you here were now in human form.

You slowly sit up as the leader’s eyes snap to yours over the fire and you stare at him sheepishly not sure what to say.

“Well, good morning sunshine.” Comes the pink-haired man’s voice as he pokes at the fire again. The one with the gold-flecked hair shoots you a soft reassuring smile and you feel yourself soften.

“Namjoon said you humans get hungry often and he can’t cook for shit so he had us cook some stuff for you so you don’t starve.” The pink-haired one says cheerfully as you inch closer to the fire and take in the rabbit that is laid over it.

You hope it’s not the rabbit that startled you earlier but you realize you can’t be picky in what you eat so you nod slowly at the men sitting before you and draw the leader’s cloak tighter around you.

Namjoon.

The name suited him.

“The way you were dressed, we thought. We thought you were a lost woodcutter. If we knew you were a woman. Well, it’s still good we snatched you up.” The pink-haired one said as he poked at the rabbit again.

“Is it?” You ask timidly as Namjoon stares at you causing a shiver to run down your spine.

“Yes. You are much safer here than wandering lost through the woods. How did a woman end up in the woods so off the path anyway?” Namjoon asks with a tilt of his head.

The two other humans look at you and you feel anger bubble inside of you.

“What is the big deal if a woman is lost in the woods? I’m not some helpless thing that accidentally wandered in and got lost on the trail. I kept myself alive just fine before you showed up!” You retorted crossing your arms over your chest.

“You misunderstand me,” Namjoon says calmly not at all bothered by your outburst.

“Women of our kind are…strong and capable. We do not look down on them or lock them away as your kind does. What I mean is how did you get so lost in the woods and what were you doing in the woods anyway.”

The pink-haired man rotates the rabbit on the fire as the gold-flecked one sits closer to you as if you are about to tell a thrilling tale.

“I was looking for my father. He got lost in the woods seven days ago. He was cutting down mahogany trees for the town to repair some furniture. I went to The Governor to send out a search party but unfortunately, The Governor is useless so I took matters into my own hands. I didn’t mean to wander into your territory that was a mistake.” You say.

“Foods done.” The pink-haired one says lowly as he takes it off the fire and begins to cut the meat up offering it to you first on a small piece of wood.

“Where are you from?” Namjoon asks as he refuses the food served to him but the other two dig in with fervor.

“Frosthill.” You reply as you slowly bring the food to your lips not able to deny your hunger any longer as you slowly and carefully eat.

The gold-haired man snickers and Namjoon rolls his eyes.

“Yes, we have noticed that Governor Park is useless. Always so twitchy around us.” He admits with an alluring smirk as he throws more firewood to keep the flame alive.

“So you wandered into the woods, taking a dagger that you so obviously stole to look for your father?” Namjoon asks after you finish swallowing your food.

You nod.

“That’s very admirable of you.” He says thoughtfully as you continue to eat and try to hide the pride that is glowing in your chest.

“After you eat you will sleep and we will take you back to town tomorrow.” He says after a beat of silence.

“I can’t leave!” You argue as you place your food aside and stare at him in shock.

“These woods are dangerous surely you can’t stay.” He argues back

“The Governor said it will take weeks for Yoongi and his men to return from the east. It would be over a month since my father disappeared. He’s my last living family member. I’m not leaving! I won’t leave until I find him!” You demand standing up as Namjoon follows suit.

The other two seemed to shrink back against the wall and you wondered if anyone ever argued with Namjoon before as the two of them seemed frozen in shock at your words.

“You are leaving by daybreak and that is final. We can’t have a human running through the woods something could happen.” He says now standing up to match you, even though he was a head taller you still stared him down with the intensity of a hundred flames.

“You might be their leader but you aren’t mine Namjoon. And I’m not leaving without my father. So either I find him or you and your dragon pack do.” You threaten as you hear a gruff growl in Namjoons throat and you can almost feel the palpable anger roll off of his body.

“Pst we aren’t a pack. We are a flight. Just saying.” The pink-haired one says as Namjoon snaps.

“Seokjin. Jungkook. Out. Go patrol the southern border. Do not come back until you are told.”

The two scramble to follow their leader’s orders as they bid silent goodbyes and leave the cave, moments later they take to the sky leaving you alone with the angry leader.

“I’m not leaving without my father.” You reiterate as you cross your arms over your chest and stare him down, feeling anger and frustration bubble up inside of your chest.

Getting captured by dragons: big mistake.

Arguing with a dragon: even bigger mistake

“You are the most stubborn human I have met.” He says lowly as you smirk proudly at him over the fire.

“What? Are other humans too scared of you to fight back?” You taunt as he moves gracefully from his spot across the fire until he is right in front of you.

His musky scent fills your nose and before you know it he pushes you back until you are backed against the cave wall. His hands are on either side of your head keeping you locked in and when you stare up into those sharp eyes they are now slowly turning gold as a rumble is emitting from his chest.

“I may not be your leader but if you want to stay alive you have to do as I say. It is not safe for you here. You veered too far past the line and are deep in dragon territory. If Seokjin didn’t smell the fear on you… if Jungkook had not grabbed you-” He shook his head unable to complete his sentence.

“Then find my father and get me out of here. If you try to remove me by force I will just wander into these woods again. I’m not leaving without him.” You say sharply as you stare up into those eyes that are now pure gold.

“You dare test me human?” He asks voice laced with danger as he moves in closer and you feel the hair on your arms rise.

“You dare sit back and do nothing?” You taunt unable to stop the words from tumbling from your mouth.

“You are in my secluded cave, my dragons made you a meal and you are wearing my cloak and you dare argue with me?” He asks again as his lips ghost over your jaw and despite yourself, you arch into his touch as your nipples brush against his broad chest.

The air crackles with tension and you feel arousal pool between your legs as you stare at him, neither of you willing to back down and instead are locked in a stare-off. He huffs deep in his chest and you cock an eyebrow almost daring him to come closer.

“I’m not leaving without my father.” You say to him again, clenching your jaw as he moves in even closer, bathing you in his scent and pinning you against the wall.

His scent fills your nose and you can feel his breath come out in small puffs as his hand curls into the wall beside your head bringing some of the loose limestone down on your shoulders. Your heart beats rapidly in your chest and your eyes flick down to his plush lips.

He once again growls low but this time it almost comes out as a whimper and your eyes flick back up to his as he continues to stare at you with an eyebrow cocked and his jaw clenching.

You won’t back down. You have learned enough times that most people saw you as a helpless woman. You felt as if backing down would solidify that so you stood your ground as you puffed out your chest to match his didn’t break eye contact.

Electricity crackled throughout the cave and you pushed yourself even closer trying to intimidate him but instead, you could feel the swell of his hard cock pressing into your stomach. He was achingly hard against you and when you pressed further you could hear a strangled groan leave his lips as his eyes fluttered closed. You let out a gasp and Namjoon pulled away backing down as you stayed plastered against the wall breathing heavily.

If what you felt was what you thought you felt this man was fucking huge.

And you were rilling him up in more ways than one.

Before either of you could speak another human entered the cave and waved his hand in the air as if warding off some smell.

“Fucking hell Namjoon the pheromones in here could kill a person.” He jokes but stops short when he sees you plastered against the wall breathing heavily.

“So the rumors are true?” He asks as his dark fluffy hair falls into his eyes and a mischievous grin paints his lips.

“Get out of here Taehyung we are leaving.” He demands as Taehyung eyes you curiously.

“Well sorry to break up this steamy moment but there is trouble in the south that you need to come attend to.” He says smoothly as Namjoon runs a hand down his face.

You feel a blush coat your cheeks and you try your best to hide how aroused you feel as you break his stare and instead look at your feet.

“That’s why we are leaving. Let’s go.” Namjoon barks as he grabs Taehyung by the scruff of his neck and throws him from the cave.

“Stay here. We will discuss finding your father when I get back. Keep that cloak on.” He barks as you nod and he disappears out of the cave you can hear his wings flapping as he shoots himself into the sky.

When you wake up it is already daybreak and Namjoon is sitting by the fire alone poking at it seemingly lost in thought.

The events of yesterday play over in your mind and you feel yourself clenching your thighs as you fight back the urge to run over to him and sit on his lap, hoping to feel his hard cock all over again.

Something about him, his stature, his power, the way he had you pinned against the wall, how his breath fanned over your face had you aching for him a way you had not ached for anybody in ages.

“I know you are awake, I can smell you from here.” He growls as you sit up abruptly and close your legs.

“You can….smell me?” You ask pulling the cloak around your shoulders and feeling embarassment creep up.

“Of course. How do you think you were found? Seokjin smelt your fear.” He says matter of factly and you hide your face in shame.

So Namjoon could smell how aroused you were yesterday.

Well, that’s just great.

“I knew you could smell things like that. I just- Is that why you got hard yesterday? You could smell me.” You asked feeling bold as Namjoon’s lips drew into a dangerous smirk.

“I talked to some of my best and most trusted Dragons and they will be out patrolling looking for your father.” He says ignoring your previous question as you inch closer to the fire and bathe in the warmth.

“Hoseok will be here soon to feed you,” Namjoon reports not making eye contact with you.

“You can’t do it?” You prod as you look out at the cave entrance at the sunny day and long to be out in the sunshine.

“I’m a leader for a reason. I have skills that others don’t and vice versa.” He says teeth biting down into his lip.

Before you can respond a man enters the cave with a rabbit flung over his shoulder and he is the least dragon-like you have ever met.

Though this whole meeting dragons thing was still new to you.

He was tall and built but smiled like a million suns as he greeted you. He was friendly and kind as he got to work prepping the meat and placing it on the fire to cook. He had a million questions for you all of which you were happy to answer as Namjoon sat brooding and didn’t say a word.

The air was soon filled with the smell of cooked meat and Hoseok plated some up for you and offered some to Namjoon who politely declined and you wondered if he was going to eat at all.

Lucky for you, Hoseok kept the conversation alive as you ate, and when he bid you farewell, you missed him instantly.

“So now what?” You ask Namjoon as you wrap the cloak around your body and sigh contently.

“It depends…will you listen to me and follow directions?” He asks boldly cocking an eyebrow as he stands up from the cold earth and wipes his palms on his pants.

“Depends on what you’re asking.” You say following his lead and standing up.

He seems to stand there in quiet contemplation as you cross your arms over your chest and wait.

His eyes flick to yours briefly before shaking his head as if he is clearing it.

“Sorry Jungkook won’t stop whining about his duties today and I have to hear all about it. I’m usually better at blocking him out.” Namjoon explains as he extinguishes the fire and runs a hand through his messy hair.

“You can….communicate? Without him being here?” You ask.

“Yes, we can communicate through our thoughts if we so choose. That’s how I knew where to meet Seokjin and Jungkook when they grabbed you. They warned me a human was in the forest.” He explained calmly.

“That’s so cool. But I also feel like it would be annoying at times. I like having my thoughts to myself.” You say brushing your hands down your body to get rid of any dirt from spending the night sleeping on the floor.

“Yes, it can be taxing at times. Taehyung for instance wouldn’t fucking leave me alone yesterday even though I asked him several times to stay away.” Namjoon grits out as a low growl leaves his chest and you can’t help the blush that coats your cheeks.

“He was in your head….when we were….”

“I told him I was in the middle of something.” Namjoon grits out, his annoyance obvious which causes you to giggle.

“Well just because we were interrupted doesn’t mean we can’t continue.” You implore as Namjoon shakes his head with a smile tugging at his lips.

“If you are willing to follow my instructions I was thinking I could take you to where the mahogany trees grow and we could look for your father. It is far so you would have to ride on my back.” He says ignoring your previous comment.

“Wait hold on. You said you could smell when….. so Taehyung could… ohmygod!” You cry out not listening to what he said as your mind reeled with what happened yesterday.

Namjoon chuckled darkly as you covered your face in embarassment,

“Still on that, I see. Yes, Taehyung could smell you. Between the two of us, we stunk up the whole cave with that.” Namjoon said as you finally removed your hands and could see a faint blush coating his cheeks as well.

You didn’t know Namjoon for long, but something about this big scary leader of Dragons blushing before you was quite charming.

“I’m so embarrassed oh my god this is awful I should apologize to Taehyung.” You fret as you begin to pace the cave.

Namjoon just laughs which causes you to stop in your tracks to stare at him.

“Believe me the last thing you need to do is apologize to him. The amount of times I’ve walked in on him in the same position. Don’t worry your pretty head about it.” Namjoon reassures as you let out a small relieved sigh.

“So as I was saying before you got distracted I was thinking I would take you to where the mahogany trees grow and we can search the grounds for your father.” He continues

“How would we get there though?” You ask.

“You would have to follow my instructions no matter what so we can get there safely.”

Your thoughts run wild as you ponder the idea. It was very nice of Namjoon to offer to do this for you, especially after yesterday’s difiance and you give him a curt nod as he smiles, showing you two dimples you had never seen before. Then again you didn’t think you ever saw him smile until now.

“How does one ride a dragon though?” You ask

Namjoon stares at you

You stare back and the realization of what you said dawns on you.

“I mean-I- for travel.” You stammer as you feel your cheeks heat and Namjoon once again blushing wildly.

“If you trust me I would take you on my back, probably a lot better than me holding you like Jungkook did,” Namjoon replies as you fasten his cloak tighter and try to ignore the images in your mind of you riding him a much different way.

“If you see another dragon hide yourself against my back. We don’t want others to see you. Humans are not supposed to ride dragons and haven’t for years. You must stay hidden. You must not be seen.”

He turns his broad back to you and exits the cave turning into a dragon. You slowly and carefully mount his back, which almost feels like climbing a mountain with how large and wide he is.

Once you get yourself comfortable you give him a playful pat and Namjoon rockets himself into the sky as you hold on for dear life.

The sun is warm on your skin but you can hardly feel it over the rush of the wind as it takes you higher and higher into the clouds. The air is dense up here but he doesn’t keep you here for long as he dips back down towards the trees and finally levels out taking you away from the cave and towards your small town.

The ride is short and lucky for you no other dragons seem to be nearby as Namjoon circles a clearing before touching down and letting you gently climb off his back.

He extends his great gold wings to stretch them out before turning into a human and standing up.

The clearing is still full of mahogany trees but you do notice some of them had been cut down.

Namjoon lets you take your time surveying the area but stays close to you in case. His presence makes you feel safer as you walk quite a ways but find no sign of your father anywhere.

“Nothing?” He asks softly after an hour of looking and you shake your head, tears spilling hot and fast down your cheeks.

Namjoon pulls you in for a side hug and wraps his arm around you letting you cry into his shoulder. The dragon part of him is reminding him he has better things to worry about than the affairs of this human whom he had only met, but the human part of him aches at the loss.

Namjoon lets you cry as much as you need to, holding you steady against him and protecting you from the wind.

Once you calm down you wipe your nose on your sleeve and push your hair back from your face.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to cry all over you like that.” You mutter as you wipe your tears away as quickly as they come.

“It’s okay I don’t mind.” Namjoon comforts you as he keeps you tucked against him.

“I really don’t want to leave without him. I can’t leave without him.” You whimper unable to hold back as more tears fall.

“We can keep searching. You can stay for longer but…”

His question lingers in the air.

“Isn’t there someone at home missing you? Or looking for you too?” Namjoon asks you.

You let out a bitter laugh and shake your head.

“My father is the only family I have left. He…was an inventor and one day something went wrong with one of his inventions and it ended up killing my mother.” You squeezed your eyes shut at the painful memory.

“He gave up inventing and instead became a humble carpenter. I almost wonder if The Governor sent him in here to die. The whole town thinks we are strange and we have been outcasts ever since. I doubt anyone in the town even misses me. Well maybe except Jimin, but he’s just in it for a quick fuck.” You say with a bitter laugh as Namjoon seems to stiffen beside you.

“You are having sex with The Governor’s son?” Namjoon quips with an eyebrow raised.

“Not often. Just. Whenever we feel like it. I- I don’t have to explain this to you.” You say feeling suddenly shy as you pull away from his embrace embarrassed at yourself for opening up to him like that.

“You don’t have to explain yourself I just-”

“What!” You shot out unable to stop yourself.

“You thought I’d sit at home and wait for the perfect man to sweep me off my feet. Me?! An outcast after what happened. The poor girl who had to take care of her father after he blew up her mother. Do you think anyone wants that? Wants this?” You cry out unable to look at Namjoon as you yell into the empty forest.

Namjoon is patient and lets you rant but his heart aches for you. He doesn’t know the extent of what you have been through but he knows that you have all this pain inside as you keep yelling and ranting, pacing the forest floor.

Just as you are losing steam Namjoon runs towards you and pushes you against a tree, his palm warm against your mouth as he holds you steady and quiet.

You cry out in shock and anger as his eyes sweep behind you, keeping you steady behind the tree.

“Shush. Someone is here.” He growls low, cutting off your protests as you can hear the crunching of leaves, someone is walking nearby.

“We are on human land we have to go. I’m going to let you go, you will climb on my back and we will get the fuck out of here. Understood.” He demands eyes glowing gold as you nod and Namjoon lets you go.

You see him transform and nearly let out a scream as you see an arrow fly through the woods and hit a nearby tree.

You don’t stop to look back as Namjoon extends a wing to hide you and before you can climb onto his back he grabs you in his talons and launches himself from the ground.

The air whips your hair around and the only sounds you can hear are the wind whistling in your ears and the sounds of Namjoon’s mighty wings carrying you away.

The news comes while you are asleep.

Namjoon is in the cave and keeps the fire going to keep you warm when Seokjin touches down outside.

Once inside the cave, he is back in his human form and drops more food for you on the cave floor as he takes in your sleeping form, wrapped up in Namjoon’s cloak and snoring softly.

“We have things to talk about Namjoon,” Seokjin says softly not wanting to wake you as he plops down beside Namjoon eyes wide with worry.

“Aren’t I the leader here?” Namjoon grumbles but he still turns to face Seokjin as you let out a soft snore.

“Yes, but what you did today was wreckless and could have gotten you killed. Then who would be our leader? Jungkook is beside himself thinking he could have lost you.” Seokjin says as Namjoon averts his eyes.

“Going on human land to look for her father. Are you out of your mind? You could have flown over but no you had to touch down and transform on human land too. Yoongi is too good with a weapon Namjoon.”

“It wasn’t Yoongi. He’s still east according to reports.” Namjoon responds still poking at the fire.

“Well, whoever it was they have good aim from what I hear. Sure we could overpower a human if we had to but you were on their land. If they killed you it would have been justified. You were way over the border.” Seokjin reminds him as Namjoon lets out a weary sigh.

He knew it was dangerous. He knew it was stupid but he thought bringing you there would give you a little bit of hope. Maybe gets you to trust the dragons more. Trust him more. He was looking for your father. He had his best men on it but instead of giving you hope he feels he made it worse.

You hardly said anything when he got you back to the cave, instead, you curled into a ball and fell asleep almost immediately.

Namjoon didn’t like that you didn’t say anything to him.

And he liked it even less that you had another man touching you, fucking you.

Before Seokjin could scold him more Namjoon cut him off.

“I know I know. It was dumb. A mistake. I’ll make it up to Jungkook later. Now have you come here to scold me or is there news?” Namjoon asks as his sharp eyes don’t leave your sleeping form.

Seokjin figures it’s best not to argue with the leader so he gets to work cooking food on the fire, hype aware of how Namjoon stares at the human.

“We found her father,” Seokjin says softly as Namjoon’s eyes snap to his.

“When? Where?” Namjoon asks as Seokjin bites his lip and continues to prep the food.

“Well, you have to promise not to be mad.” Seokjin starts as Namjoon lets loose a low warning growl.

A sentence like that can never be good.

“Taehyung…he… he went to her town and found her house. Her father somehow wandered home unscathed.” Seokjin says timidly as Namjoon feels heat rise throughout his body.

“You’re telling me. Taehyung. Went into her town. As a human?” Namjoon growls low as Seokjin seems to shrink under his leader’s heated gaze.

“Hoseok and I already gave him an earful but yes he did. No one knows who he is anyway as he is the newest of us but yeah. He did.” Seokjin says still timid as he pokes at the fire not wanting to see Namjoon's wrath.

“You came in here scolding me for being on human land but Taehyung walks right into her town?! Is he insane?” Namjoon hisses trying to keep his voice low so you can sleep.

“Well you can scold Taehyung but you're the leader….who’s going to scold you? Someone had to do it and I drew the short straw.”

Namjoon ran a tired hand down his face.

“Well he’s going to get the scolding of his life but…I’m glad her father is safe.” Namjoon finishes as the cave is filled with the sizzle of fish cooking.

“Are you?” Seokjin asks eyebrow quirked as Namjoon stills.

“Of course I am.” He retorted as you shifted in your sleep.

“We all have noticed you have grown fond of the human. Are you going to be able to let her go?” Seokjin asks as you stir more and Namjoon knows it’s only moments before you will wake.

“I have to. I have no choice.”

The news gets broken to you after you eat.

Both Seokjin and Namjoon decide to wait until you are finished at the fear of you choking when they tell you your father is safe at home.

“So what happened?!” You ask, shock apparent on your face as Seokjin recalls how Taehyung walked into your town and found your house, finding your father safe and sound but terribly worried about you.

“Now I really should apologize to Taehyung after what he walked in on.” You mutter as Seokjin lifts a brow and his eyes flit to Namjoon who is suddenly very interested in the cave wall.

“There are still a couple of hours of daylight left if you wish us to take you to him. You just have to promise if anyone asks about Taehyung you pretend you have no idea. Also maybe just tell them you got lost in the woods. We don’t want to bring trouble to our kind because we took you in. Taehyung has brought enough trouble by going into town.” Seokjin explained with a shake of his head but a small smile on his lips.

He seemed just as excited as you that your father was safe.

Namjoon however stayed stoic and silent as he stared at the cave walls, occasionally looking at you.

“Well, I have a patrol to do. Namjoon can take you back.” Seokjin explains as he stands up and you follow suit.

You wrap him in a warm hug and thank him for everything and Seokjin returns the hug but his eyes are locked on Namjoon who is now staring with a low growl rumbling in his chest.

“Please thank Jungkook and Hoseok for me. Oh and tell Taehyung I’m sorry he had to walk in on…yeah.” You finish pulling away and blushing to match Namjoon’s blush.

Interesting.

“What exactly did he walk in on? Just so I know what to say?” Seokjin teases as Namjoon stands up quickly and barks at Seokjin to get a move on.

Seokjin waves over his shoulder and leaves you alone with Namjoon who looks anything but pleased.

“We should go.” He says softly as he puts out the fire and his cold attitude matches the cold of the room as he leaves and transforms into his dragon self outside.

You slowly look around the cave once more before leaving and slowly climbing on Namjoon’s back. He lets out a small huff and shoots himself into the sky.

Your thoughts are a tangled web as the world around you suddenly doesn’t seem as interesting as it did before.

You were glad that your father was safe. You were glad that he was home which also meant you could come home. You’d have to find a way to return Jimin’s dagger to him without raising suspicion but the thought of seeing Jimin again made you feel queasy.

Not because of Jimin himself but because of what you told Namjoon.

Also Namjoon in general.

The way he looked at you, the way he pinned you against the cave wall. You knew something was simmering below the surface and as glad as you were that your father was back, you also wished you had more time to explore it.

You opened your heart to him and didn’t have time to let him open his. You didn’t feel ready to go back to your old life, something about Namjoon drew you in, made you feel powerful, made you feel alive.

Before you could even begin to untangle these thoughts you felt him descending on the very edge of the forest and you held your breath as your stomach swooped.

Namjoon touched down gracefully for being so large and you carefully climbed off his back before he could transform into a human.

You didn’t know what to say, how to thank him, how to say goodbye but it seemed he didn’t give you the chance because as you were about to open your mouth he let out a small huff and shot up into the sky, leaving you standing in the clearing alone.

Well.

That was that then.

The days turned into weeks and everything slowly turned back to normal.

The reunion with your father was sweet as he swept you into his arms and told you how he got lost in the woods for several days only living off berries until he eventually stumbled back.

You told a similar tale, keeping your promise to Seokjin and leaving out the parts about the dragons as you settled back into your life.

Two days after your return you ran into Jimin in town as you were buying bread. You whispered for him to meet you in the barn around nightfall.

However, you didn’t meet him but you left his dagger on the hay pile where you usually fucked.

Jimin wouldn’t look at you after that, instead shooting you dirty looks whenever he could but you didn’t mind. You didn’t miss him much anyway.

The winter chill came hard and fast this year coating everything in snow as you trekked through town to continue to grab supplies for your small cottage.

The air was bitingly cold and you held your hood firmly over your head to ward off the chill as you completed your errands.

Jimin was in the blacksmiths as you passed and you held your head high, only to be met with the ding of the bell and his boots crunching through the snow next to you.

“So that’s it then? You steal my dagger and just throw it on the hay pile to be found by me? Can’t even talk to me anymore.” He hisses as you stop in your tracks and face him.

“My father was gone for ages and your father did nothing to help him. My father just got back… so sorry I want to spend time with him instead of letting you get your dick wet.” You snarl under your breath as Jimin steps back in shock.

“I covered for you when you stole my dagger and this is how you repay me?” He says anger seeping through his voice as your breaths mingle in the cold air.

“How exactly did you cover for me? You had sex with me and fell asleep and I stole your dagger. What were you going to tell your father when he asked? Surely you weren’t going to tell him you were with me.”

“I pretended I lost it to save you!” He blurts out.

“Save me or save yourself? I know you are ashamed to be with me Jimin. I know you see me how the rest of the town does though you won't admit it.” You say calmly.

Jimin stares at you, his beautiful face painted in anger.

“Were done. This. This is done.” he scowls pushing past you to storm down the street.

But you had already known it was done.

It was done the day you first laid eyes on Namjoon.

You let your thoughts drift back to him as you make your way out of town to your small cottage struggling under the weight of the bags and the fresh fallen snow.

It still stung that Namjoon never bothered to say goodbye and you almost wonder if he is even thinking about you too.

You haven’t forgotten the tension in the cave, how hard and needy he felt against you as he pushed you against the wall. How often those sharp eyes would land on you making you squirm.

Before you know it you are at your front door. You try to clear the thoughts of Namjoon from your mind but you know no matter how hard you try you will never meet a man like him in your entire life.

A month had gone by since you had seen Namjoon. A whole month of sitting in the cottage and yearning for him and letting your thoughts be consumed by him.

Your father knew something was up and asked multiple times what happened in the woods but you reiterated the same story over and over until he had given up.

One cold frosty morning you were tending to the chickens when you saw something flutter out of the corner of your eye.

You finished collecting the eggs and when you turned it was still there.

A black cloak fluttering on a tree branch a couple of feet from your coop. You knew that cloak, you would recognize it anywhere and you nearly dropped the eggs when the wind grabbed it, revealing the fur lining.

Namjoon was here, somewhere. Or had been here.

He dropped it off for you.

He was thinking about you too.

You slowly placed the basket of eggs on the ground and walked over the cloak, your hand slightly shaking.

When your hand wrapped around the soft material you couldn’t help but let your eyes close as all the memories replayed in your mind. The cloak smelt of him and your head spun when you wrapped it around your shoulders, taking you right back to that cave, right back to him hard and needy against you.

Your thoughts were broken by church bells echoing across town and out to your little home as you quickly grabbed the eggs and headed inside still wearing the cloak.

Your father had questions of course but you lied and said one of the townspeople must have lost it and you would do your due diligence to return it tomorrow.

He seemed pleased with that response and you hated lying to him but was it really lying if you were going to return it to the dragon it belonged to?

The forest was a lot different in just a couple of months, and every step you took deeper into it reminded you of that.

The trees were bare as the winter chill had stripped them down to only their branches. Most of the leaves had been cleared away leaving you walking through deep snow, hiking up your father’s clothes once again as you wandered in.

Even without having Jimin’s weapon, you didn’t feel afraid.

Namjoon had told you once that he could smell everything on you

From fear to sweat to….arousal.

You knew it was only a matter of time before he found you again.

The woods grew dense and the snow was starting to freeze your toes in your boots as you carried on.

The sun was weak today casting everything in a somber light as you held onto a tree for support and caught your breath.

Even if somehow he couldn’t smell you, you did have the protection of wearing his cloak and that gave you the strength to carry on.

An hour in the snow was still deep and you were having a hard time traversing it. The cloak kept you warm and safe and the trees provided a small barrier against the wind.

Two hours later you were wondering if this whole thing was a mistake.

You figured you’d wander in the woods and he would sense you were there, maybe smell you, and be on you in minutes. However, the minutes had dragged into hours and you felt numb and sore.

Your feet ached in cold and your cheeks were stinging and tinged pink as your breath fogged in front of your very eyes.

The temperature was dropping.

This was a bad idea.

Just as you were about to give up you could hear the flapping of wings and you looked up in time to see a huge dragon sailing above you.

It seemed to sense you and your heart fluttered thinking it was your dragon. However, when it started to descend you realized you didn’t recognize this dragon at all.

No gold-flecked scales, no pink either.

It touched down harshly in front of you and its beady eyes narrowed on yours.

You stayed frozen as you checked the dragon, all black except for a sickly green color around its snout.

It licked its lips and your stomach plummeted.

This was not a friendly dragon and you were about to be lunch.

Just as the dragon opened its mouth to shoot fire you were swooped up in claws and taken from the forest floor.

The wind whipped your hair around and when you finally found the bravery to open your eyes you looked up to see your saviour which was a black dragon with a golden belly.

“Namjoon!” You cried over the wind as he ignored you and took you higher and higher across the winter sky.

Flying was a lot colder this time around and he seemed to take you further than he ever had.

By the time you had touched down your cheeks and hands were frozen and you felt chilled to the bone.

He didn’t drop you off at the cave, or any cave for that matter. In fact, he dropped you off high in the mountains where an old rustic cottage sat.

You were about to open your mouth to thank him but you saw he wasn’t transforming back into his human self.

His eyes were narrowed and golden and even though he didn’t speak you could feel the rage radiating off him in waves.

He nodded a head towards the cottage and took off in flight leaving you stranded at the edge of a mountain.

You stood there watching his great wings flap against the sky and before long he was a speck in the distance.

You had no choice but to enter the quant cottage and warm yourself up as you got a fire started. It took ages with your numb fingers but once you were able to light the match the whole living room was bathed in warm firelight.

You padded from room to room slowly looking around as the wind howled all around you.

There was a small kitchen, a cozy living room, a small bathroom, and two bedrooms in the back.

Something drew you to the bedroom on the left and when you went inside your head spun. All you smelt was him.

Namjoon’s scent was everywhere and when you opened the closet sweaters and pants hung nearly, organized by color.

Your own clothes were frozen and not nearly as comfortable so you stripped in his room and grabbed a soft blue sweater to throw over your head.

You didn’t bother with the pants as he was much bigger than you but you did strip them off anyway and decided you would wear his sweater as a dress.

Making your way back to the living room you saw him standing by the fire, the light illuminating his dark features and when he made eye contact with you the air seemed to woosh from your lungs.

“You really are the most stubborn human I have ever met you know that.” He growls as his narrowed eyes rove your body and you are suddenly very aware you were not wearing pants.

“Good to see you too.” You deadpan as you make your way over to the couch and throw a blanket on your lap to cover yourself up.

“Do you know how bad it could have been if I had not been following you for the last hour?” He asks, voice low and dangerous as the fire flickers.

“So you knew I was in the forest then?” You ask

“Obviously.” He says sounding bored.

“And you didn’t think to come get me sooner? I walked around for two hours like an idiot looking for you.” You say sharply feeling embarassment rise.

He knew you had been there all along. He just let you wander lost.

“I thought you’d give up. I guess I forgot your stubbornness.” He chuckled to himself as he continued to stare into the fire.

“Why would I give up? You left your cloak on my property and I-I thought.” You said letting your voice die out as you stared at your lap.

You read this wrong, the whole thing was wrong and now you looked like a fool.

“Yes, I was wondering where that cloak had wandered off too.”

Your eyes met his sharp ones and he let out a long weary sigh.

“My cloak went missing days ago. It seems Taehyung has a taste for meddling. I made him confess right after I found you.” Namjoon says finally pushing away from the fire to sit in a lounge chair next to you.

“I-I thought- I…wow this is embarassing.” You say hugging your arms around yourself and staring at your feet unable to look at him.

“You thought I sent it.” He asks softly as you finally look his way.

His expression is gentle and understanding and you nod slowly.

“I had been completing rounds in an area Taehyung knew I would be in. I smelt the cloak right away. I smelt you right away. I was hoping you would give up. Go home but as I said you are a stubborn human. The dragon that found you. That could have been bad. Which is why I wanted you to go home. The forest is dangerous. I am dangerous.”

“So you don’t want me here?” You ask in a small voice feeling the sting of rejection deep in your chest.

“I brought you to my private cottage in the mountains. The only ones who know about it are my dragons. I brought you here for three reasons. Number one to keep you safe.” He says voice low as he leans closer to you as if he is about to tell you a secret.

“Number two, I told my dragons if they even fly close to this place tonight I will incinerate them.”

You giggle.

“Number three is because here you are, wearing my clothes, smelling of my cloak, and if I am not mistaken wearing no pants. I brought you here so I could ravish you in peace.”

You let out a small whimper at his words, squeezing your thighs together as Namjoon chuckles low and dangerously.

“That’s why you came all this way right? Why you put yourself in so much danger? Why you haven’t fucked the Park boy in weeks….. yes I know about that.” He says before you can interject.

You whimpered out his name. The tension was thick as a cloud and made your heart rate speed as he leaned even closer to you and you sucked in a breath.

“You want me, don’t you? You have wanted me since that first fight in the cave? Am I correct?”

You nod unable to form words as his hand reaches out to tuck a stray hair behind your ear.

“I didn’t say goodbye the first time because I couldn’t. I felt the same as you. The pull. The desire. Saying goodbye was too hard. I kick myself almost every day that I didn’t take you right there up against the cave wall. You were so stubborn, so infuriating that it made my cock so fucking hard.” He snarled, face inches from yours breath warm against your face.

“Do you still think I’m stubborn and infuriating?” You ask in a small voice as you shrink under his searing gaze.

“My human walked into the forest today, put her life at risk to get a good fuck by a dragon. What do you think princess?” He rasps against the shell of your ear causing goosebumps to rise on your skin despite the warm fire only mere feet away.

“You-Your human?” You asked him slowly blinking as he snickered and his mouth stretched into a sinister smile.

“Yes. My human. I’m going to fuck you and make you mine. As long as that’s what you wandered into the woods for?” He says teasingly with a cock of his eyebrow.

Desire throbbed throughout your body and you felt the anticipation of what was to come hang in the air.

You wanted him and you wanted him bad.

“Need to hear you say it human. Say how bad you want me.” He demands as you nod.

“No no, I need words.” He teases causing you to arch up and try to connect your lips with his.

“Words darling. Words. You do know what those are?”

You swallow hard.

“Yes. Namjoon please fuck me.” You beg as his eyes ignite gold and he grabs you and throws you over his broad shoulder.

You squeal and hold on for dear life as a hand comes down to spank your backside causing to to gasp and leak arousal down your thighs as he kicks open the bedroom door and throws you down on the bed.

Before you can blink his body is on top of yours, keeping you pinned to the bed as his mouth roves your neck. His nose is cold against your skin and you arch up to meet his body wanting to be covered by every inch of him as he explores you with passion.

“Kiss me- fuck Namjoon-please.” You beg as he attacks your lips with his own causing you to moan obscenly against his warm mouth.

His lips are firm and when he grinds his body down on yours you are delighted to feel the swell of his hard cock pressing against your stomach as you grind yourself against it to try and help relieve some of the ache that has formed between your legs.

Namjoon’s kisses are hot and when he delivers a small bite to your lip you gasp as he takes to opportunity to slip his tongue inside and explore your mouth.

Your hands are scraping at his body, desperate to feel his bare skin against yours as his hand comes to play with the hem of his sweatshirt that you are wearing, pulling it higher and higher exposing yourself to him.

He breaks the kiss causing you to whine in protest as he sits up and shucks his shirt over his head. You gasp when your eyes are met with miles of tanned skin and muscles that had been sculpted by hard work.

What shocked you most was his markings.

His body had many gold lines running around it. One thick line ran from his neck all the way down to his naval and you wondered if it would run further down.

His arms had thick gold bands circling them and he must have seen you staring because he turned around to show you his back, which had gold markings in the shape of dragon wings.

“Wow.” You breathed out as you took in his beauty.

He blushed under your praise.

“We get these markings when we become leaders. I’ve been a leader for five years but the wings just came in last year.” He explains as he sits on the bed and carefully takes your hand pressing it to the gold marks on his chest.

“You’re beautiful Namjoon.” You breathe out as he gives you a rare shy smile, which once again causes those dimples to show on his cheeks.

You slowly use the tip of your finger to trace the gold line on his chest, he shivers under your touch but lets you continue as you trace down his body, eyes following the path to where the line dips lower and his hard cock is straining against his pants in a way that has your mouth watering.

When you make it to the edge of his pants his resolve snaps and Namjoon pushes you back down on the bed and begins to kiss you again.

Your hands come to grab at his hair as his mouth attacks yours as his hips jut his cock into your stomach.

His lips don’t stay on yours for long as they begin to travel down your cheek and to your jawline where he peppers them making you whine and thrash under him.

“Don’t tease please.” You beg out as his lips suck a mark into your skin just above your collarbone as he chuckles against your skin.

“My little human you have to remember I’m a shapeshifter. A dragon. My cock is going to be a lot bigger than what you are used to. I have to prep you my impatient one.” He coos against your skin making you moan as his lips are intoxicating against your skin and you want nothing more than to have them somewhere else.

He seems to read your mind as he once again sits up on the bed and tugs at the sweater you are wearing, pulling it off and throwing it to the floor with a thump.

“Good choice. That is one of my favorite ones. You looked divine in it but I think you look better without it on.” He notes as his eyes rove your naked body.

“It…It was the one that smelled the most like you.” You admitted as his narrowed eyes took their time exploring your body.

From your collarbones to your breasts to your stomach and when his eyes dipped down to the flimsy piece of cloth covering your core the gold in his eyes seemed to shimmer.

“My beautiful human.” He hums as his lips connect with the skin of your neck and you throw your head back as they once again move.

When his warm, wet mouth makes it to your breasts you whine out his name as you try your best to hump your lower body into him.

At this point, you wonder if you have soaked the bed under you with how aroused you feel.

“Patience.” He reminds you as his mouth finally connects with your nipple and you see stars.

His other hand comes up to palm at your other breasts as he takes his time with your right one. Alternating between licking and sucking making arousal shoot through your bloodstream.

His mouth is warm and wet and when he pulls off your nipple with a wet pop you can’t help but squeeze your legs together in anticipation.

His eyes travel south and his mouth curls into a smirk when he catches the piece of fabric, so wet against you as he tears it from your body.

You gasp.

Namjoon slowly gets off the bed and palms his hard cock through his pants. His bulge is straight up obscene the way it is pushing against the fabric of his pants and when he adjusts it you can clearly see the head leaking precum staining his pants.

“Please. Namjoon. Please.” You beg feeling delirious from your arousal as he chuckles and grabs your legs pulling you to the edge of the bed with ease.

“How many times do I have to remind you to be patient with me? As much as I would love to slide my cock inside of you, and believe me I can tell by your scent how aroused you are, I also don’t want to hurt you.” He explains as he grabs a pillow and kneels on it you sit up to stare at him, the leader of the dragons kneeling before you.

“If your flight saw you now what would they say.” You teased as Namjoon’s eyes seemed to glow a brighter gold, even the markings on his body seemed to glow at your words.

“They would be jealous of how lucky I am to be between your legs about to ravish your pussy.” He says calmly as you throw a hand over your mouth to stop the moan that threatens to spill out.

“We are high in the mountains darling you can be as loud as you want. Actually, I encourage it.” He says shooting you a wink.

The first lick makes you arch off the bed and cry out his name.

The second lick makes you whine and moan against him

And the noises are just obscene.

His tongue laps and sucks at your core, licking up everything you have to give him as he noses at your clit and dances his tongue across your soaked folds.

You want to watch him but the pleasure takes over as you lay back on the bed and moan his name to the ceiling as he works you towards a high you know will destroy you.

His tongue flicks across your clit sending sparks up your spine and his hands stay firm on your thighs holding you to the bed as you take everything he is giving you.

Your voice raises in pitch. Your stomach is coiling in pleasure and when you finally cry out his name in warning Namjoon growls against your core and that sets you off.

You cum while gripping the sheets and crying out his name as waves upon waves of pleasure crash down on you. Namjoon licks up everything even going as far as nuzzling his nose against your pussy to give you extra stimulation.

When you can’t take it anymore you reach down to softly push his head away.

You feel weak and dizzy but also invigorated as you finally sit up and see Namjoon still kneeling before you.

His eyes are back to their brown color but his markings still glow and his face and cheeks are wet with your orgasm.

“Fuck.” You get out as you lay back down on the bed and press a hand to your racing heart.

It seems however Namjoon is not done as you feel a finger trace up your leg, starting at your knee and teasing higher and higher.

He gets up from the floor and places one knee on the bed and one hand on the bed holding himself steady as he hovers over you.

You push yourself up on your elbows as you suck in a sharp breath when he finally makes it to your core and when his finger circles your entrance you nod at him.

Namjoon coats his finger in your wetness before slowly pushing it inside your pussy. You sigh at the feeling of finally being filled and when he adds another finger you can’t help but grind down on them.

“Needy thing aren’t you.” He chuckled as he began to fuck you on his long fingers, pulling them out and pushing them in making you shiver.

As Namjoon works you with his fingers you can’t help but notice his neglected cock twitching in his pants.

You surprise him but reaching out for it and palming his length causing a low growl to leave his throat as he curls his fingers inside of you to rub at that spot that makes you see stars.

“Patience. You will get my cock in due time.” He says gruffly as his fingers start to speed up inside of you.

“Want you to feel good too Joon.” You argue as you palm at his cock and apply pressure to the head of it making him throw his head back and the veins in his neck bulge as you work him.

“I have two fingers deep in your pussy I feel great.” He argues back as he once again curls his fingers and you cum around them without warning.

Your walls spasm and you cry out his name as more arousal coats your insides and Namjoon helps you work through your high.

You come down a lot quicker this time and when you sit up you see Namjoon happily lapping at his digits that were just buried deep inside you.

“Can’t wait any longer need your cock.” You beg as he snickers and stands up from the bed.

Namjoon stands at the foot of the bed and stares you down. His eyes are narrowed and sharp as he takes in your ruined frame. He slowly reaches for his pants and palms at his cock as you take him in.

You knew he was the leader of the dragons. He was powerful, but this man standing in front of you radiated such confidence and power, that it made your mouth dry as he seemed to have enough of his own teasing and he finally pulled his pants down agonizingly slow.

When you saw the base of his cock you swallowed hard at its girth as he revealed more of himself to you. Once he shed himself off his pants his cock slapped against his stomach and your eyes grew wide.

He was thick and long, longer than you had ever seen and his cock was flushed an angry red color, but surprisingly had the gold markings wound around it.

His cockhead was leaking precum and it twitched against him as you fought to tear your eyes away from it and back to his handsome face.

“You understand now why I had to prep you.” He says with an eyebrow raised as you bite your lip and nod.

Namjoon settles himself on the bed as anticipation hangs in the air. You try to be polite and stare anywhere else but his cock but your eyes seem drawn to it and your pussy throbs at the thought of it entering you.

“You asked me once how do you ride a dragon?” he quips as he leans back against the headboard with a confident smirk on his face.

“Well, I think I’d like you to show me how you ride a dragon.”

You waste no time in climbing up on his lap settling yourself on his powerful thighs. You bring a hand down to grip his cock and moan at the sheer size of it.

Namjoon leaks steadily down his shaft as you begin to jerk him off slowly.

You flick your wrist at the top and he lets out a low grunt in his throat as you work him.

His shaft is warm and velvety under your palm and you can almost feel the blood pumping through it from the vein on the side.

Namjoon tries his best to hold back and let you explore but the feeling of your wetness coating his thigh and the fact he is already so embarrassingly close by just a couple strokes of your hand makes him push your hand away.

“You are too good at that you know.” He mutters

You snicker.

“Yeah, I’ve had some practice.” You taunt as Namjoon’s eyes narrow and a low disapproving grumble vibrates in his chest.

“And from now on the only person you will practice with is me. My human. Mine.” He growls as his teeth nip at your earlobe and you throw your head back and whine out his name.

“Say it. Say you're mine and only mine.” Namjoon demands as one hand comes down to swat at your ass causing it to sting and a broken moan to fall from your lips.

“Say it or I won’t fuck you.” He threatens as he once again slaps your ass and you cry out his name, tears of desperation gathering in your eyes.

“Yours. Joon. Only yours.” You beg as he snickers and his inner dragon purrs happily at the sound of that before he grabs the base of his cock and lines it up with your dripping folds.

“Now you have to be a good girl and listen to everything I say before I fuck you okay.” He mutters against your ear as his other hand comes up to pet your hair.

“Anything Joon. Anything.” You cry out.

“I’m going to stick my cock in you and you are going to sit there and take it until you adjust okay. I don’t want to hurt my beautiful human. I want her to be a good girl and wait until she’s fully adjusted got it?” He asks as you sob and try to force yourself down on his cock desperation making you act out.

“I said to be a good girl. Can you do that for me?” He coos in your ear as you whine and nod.

Namjoon slowly grabs his cock and lets you sink onto it at your own pace.

The stretch is unbelievable and you almost feel your eyes cross at how good it feels. You take him inch by inch, taking deep breaths and stopping when you need to.

Namjoon is patient as he lets you sink down but you can tell by the look on his face he is doing everything in his power not to fuck up into you wildly.

Once you make it to the bottom and he is fully sheathed you let out a shaky breath and press your hands to his warm chest for support.

“Fuck I’m so full Joonie.” You grit out as the stretch still stings, though the comforting circles he rubs on your back do help.

“I know baby. You feel so tight around my cock. Squeezing me so good. You're going to squeeze the cum right out of me aren’t you.” He purrs in your ear which makes your walls flutter around his length.

“So full but so good.” You cry out as you look down and gasp when you look between your bodies.

Namjoon’s cock is so big, so deep inside of you it makes your lower stomach bulge out slightly. His eyes follow yours and he lets out an animalistic growl as he sees how full you are.

The minutes tick by. You feel yourself slowly start to relax around his cock and when you finally look up into his handsome face he has his eyes closed, his teeth biting into his lip and is taking short breaths out of his nose.

“You okay there Joon?” You ask playfully as he opens his eyes which are once again shining gold and he stares at you.

“I’m okay.” He says voice slightly cracking as you giggle, finally feeling your body adjust to his length and you wiggle your hips slightly, teasing him.

“Are you sure? You look in pain?” You goad unable to stop yourself from swirling your hips and looking at the pained expression on his face.

“You feel so hot and tight around me and I am trying to be a gentleman and let you adjust but you teasing me like this is not helping.” He grits out and you once again giggle.

“Who says I’m not adjusted?” You tease and it’s game over.

Namjoon grabs your hips so hard you know you will have bruises tomorrow and he fucks up into you wildly.

You grab onto his shoulders for support as you grind down to meet his thrusts.

Namjoon huffs out in annoyance and rolls you over so he is on top of you and begins to snap his hips harshly, causing his cock to reach inside of you so deep it makes you see stars.

“S-So good.” You cry out voice slurring as he continues to pound into you with force

Namjoon grunts in your ear, low and dangerous as he fucks into you, his voice sending shivers up your spine as he pistons in his hips into you in a way that has his cockhead touching your g-spot with every thrust.

“You test me. You tease me. You come into these woods putting your life in danger just to find me. You are so infuriating sometimes.” He growls as he holds you down on the bed and fucks into you sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing over your body.

“I think you like the thrill you know. I think you like someone testing you.” You shoot back as his face snaps up to meet your gaze and he licks his lips.

“You know I fucking do.” He groans as he slips his cock out of you and you are about to protest but he flips you over and gets you on your hands and knees.

His cock enters you again and this time the angle is different and so much deeper as he pounds into you harshly, making you take his entire length.

“You know how hard it was for me to say goodbye. You know how much I came all over my fist at the thought of you. I felt like a pervert the amount of times I got hard at the thought of you. The amount of cum I wasted on my fist instead of being buried in your pussy.”

You cry out at his words but it seems he’s not done. With every thrust of his cock he is bringing you closer to the edge and you start to fuck back into him meeting him halfway and making a growl rumble deep in his chest.

“I’m going to cum so deep inside you today. You will be ruined for anyone else. You are mine. No one else just my little cum dump to use as I please.”

He sends a hard smack to your ass and you cry out his name as the pleasure in your stomach builds higher and high and the coil of pleasure gets tighter.

You cry out his name.

But he knows. Of course, he knows.

His hand comes to reach between your legs and with a couple of circles of your clit he has you cumming hard, your walls clamping around his cock as you cry out his name, tears falling at how good it feels as your orgasm crashes into you.

Namjoon is still fucking into you wildly but he can feel his own high approaching, his body is glistening with sweat making his gold marking glow as he grabs the base of his cock and tries his best to stave off his orgasm until he pulls out.

Namjoon pulls out with a harsh hiss, and after a couple of strokes to his heated length, he cums all over your back using his hand to milk himself dry as ropes of white cum land on your back and ass.

You wait until he’s done before slumping on the bed and taking several deep breaths. A dull ache forms between your legs as you lay there motionless and try to catch your breath.

Your body tingles in after orgasm bliss and you can’t help but flutter your eyes closed as he moves off the bed behind you.

You feel a warm cloth on your back as Namjoon wipes you down, he takes his time and is meticulous in his work and before you know it you are scooped up into his arms and carried to the small bathroom where a warm bath is running.

You are slowly lowered down in the bath and you hiss at the warm temperature but you feel your body instantly relax when you are submerged.

Namjoon leaves the room and when he returns he is dressed in simple black pants and a white shirt and he plops down on the floor next to the tub to keep you company.

“That was incredible” You breathe out unable to keep your head up and instead you decide to rest it on your arms as you stare at him.

“I agree.” He responds as his hand comes out to grab yours as his thumb rubs soothing circles on your skin.

“You are a liar though Joon.” You say softly as his eyebrows raise.

“You didn’t cum inside me like you said. Thought you wanted to make me yours?” You ask grinning at him.

Despite just having the best sex of his life his cock twitches in interest in his pants.

“It was a heat of the moment thing. If I did cum inside you and got you pregnant…we dragons usually don’t mix with humans but there are cases where they do. There’s just a lot we would have to go through first. If you were pregnant with my child. I’d be cast out. I’d lose my leadership, my dragons, my everything.” he admits as he brings your hand up to his lips to press a soft kiss.

He will admit the thought of carrying his child is making his cock a lot more interested in the conversation and he grumbles when he realizes he is fully hard again.

“What are the steps we have to take?” You ask staring up at him through full lashes.

“I’d have to court you for at least six months. Then we would have to go to the council and explain the situation. And only after their approval would we be able to continue. And because I’m a leader, it will take a lot longer.” He admits feeling suddenly saddened.

“Well I already admitted to being yours so I guess the rest of the steps don’t seem so bad.” You sigh sleepily as Namjoon’s head snaps up.

“You want to be with me? To have me court you?” He asks feeling his heart hammer in his chest.

“Of course! I walked into the woods and risked my life for you. I didn’t just do that for a fuck. Though that was amazing.” You say winking at him.

Namjoon’s heart flutters and he leans down to press a soft kiss to your temple as your eyes slowly close.

Namjoon lets you rest knowing despite his best efforts you will still be sore for days to come. He sits on the cold bathroom floor and reaches out through his mind to Seokjin.

Yes, Namjoon? Are we allowed to communicate with you now?

Namjoon rolls his eyes at the smugness in Seokjin’s voice and lets out a frustrated sigh when Hoseok joins in

Ah, you are done. About time. We were worried dusk would come before the two of you got your hands off each other.

Good thing her father’s a carpenter maybe he can make you a bed. I assume you destroyed this one?

Namjoon let out a warning growl but it didn’t stop the dragons in his head from chuckling

Okay nevermind this conversation is over

Hey! We didn’t mean it we were just teasing. Anyway, what do you need?

Namjoon eyes you snoozing peacefully in the tub, his hand dipped in the water to make sure it is still warm for you

Can you teach me how to cook?

The silence in his head makes him fidget before he hears a snicker

Do you want to burn the cabin down that bad?

Hoseok and his goddamn “humor”

Can you both be serious for once?

Ah Hoseok you know how our Joon is. If he’s asking for help it must be serious. Besides he can just burn it down with a fireball. Now tell me Namjoon are you courting the human?

Yes

The cheers in his head are loud as Seokjin and Hoseok whoop and holler in excitement

Okay okay enough. I’m still your leader you know

Oh, this is so exciting! Of course Namjoon we will teach you how to cook for her, maybe air out the cabin before we come over though it’s going to be hard to teach you how to cook with all the sex in the air.

Namjoon grumbles at Hoseok’s teasing but when he looks at you it makes a little teasing all worth it.