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marvelwitchergilmore · 2 months ago

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Dog Tags (3)

Summary: Bucky Barnes x fe!Reader -> When a mission goes wrong, Bucky gets his Dog Tags back.

Disclaimer: This is part three for one and two. Mentions of serious injuries, blood and being hospitalised. Angst, bit of fluff here and there, hurt/comfort, Bucky stays by reader's side. Sam giving Bucky his own reality check, platonic!Wanda, swearing. Left kinda open ended in case I decide to write part four? Not Proof Read.

Bucky stared down at the dog tags in his hands, his thumb rubbing back and forth over the blood stained letters. He had to take a deep breath before the tears started flowing again.

You were meant to be on a simple recon mission. You’d done them a thousand times. Maybe you’d come back with a bruise or two, but you still came back.

This time, his phone had rung throughout his room just as the clock turned 4:00 am. An agent had found the tags on her person. They knew they weren’t hers, but they were definitely someone’s.

Bucky had gotten to the hospital in under an hour. You’d still been in surgery by the time he arrived, but the nurses had brought out your personal belongings in a large plastic bag.

Your clothes; blood stained to hell. Your Shield issued weapons were empty of bullets. Whatever had happened, you’d emptied your clip, plus your three backups. Your knife lay at the bottom of the bag, stained with blood, too.

Bucky couldn’t work out if it was yours or someone else's. But he did know one thing for certain. The blood that lay splattered over his tags, as he pulled the chain from the bag, was yours. You never wore them outside of your uniform. You kept them close to your chest. It couldn’t be anyone else's.

Bucky had left a message at Hill’s desk, as well with Sam explaining what had happened. What he knew, at least. Hill was sending someone to the mission base to find out more.

“Mr Barnes?”

Bucky took in a deep breath as he stood up, clasping the tags in his palm. Maybe if he squeezed tightly enough, he’d be able to feel you.

“Yes.”

“Your wife is now out of surgery. We’ll be keeping her under observation for the foreseeable, but once she’s situated in a room, you’ll be able to sit with her.” The Doctor told him.

Bucky just nodded. “Do you know what happened?”

“I know it’s not common, but I’ll bring you her more detailed medical chart.” They told him. “There was too much extensive damage to talk about off the top of my head.”

Those words hit Bucky in the chest, harder than anything else had ever done.

“But she’ll-” Bucky couldn’t bring himself to talk.

The Doctor just nodded. “She’s going to need a lot of physical therapy. Thankfully nothing broke within her legs, but the damage to her muscles will make her training a lot harder than it should be for a while.”

Bucky nodded.

“But she’ll be okay.”

“Thank you.”

The Doctor nodded. “Thank you for the tags.”

Bucky was a little confused as he followed the doctor’s finger, pointing to his hand. The dog tags? Why was she thanking him for the dog tags?

“If your wife hadn’t been wearing them, we wouldn’t have known who to contact.”

Wife.

Bucky felt himself chuckle inside. If you were awake and could hear the doctor now, you’d have probably made some disgusted eye roll and comment over being even associated with him.

“Oh, yeah.”

The Doctor smiled. “I’ll come and get you when she’s ready.”

“Thank you.”

She just nodded with another soft smile before walking away. Twenty minutes later, he was being walked down the hallway where he stood outside of your room for ten minutes before opening up the door.

You had at least a dozen wires hooked up to you, aside from the standard hospital gear. Bucky just stared at the monitor for a while, watching your heartbeat print onto paper.

Eventually, he sat in the chair beside your bed and looked at you. In that moment, he’d give anything to have you yell at him. Cuss him out, threaten him, roll your eyes…anything.

“They…” Bucky cleared his throat, looking down at the tags in his hand. “They told me you should still be able to hear me…and that talking helps. I know you’re probably mad it’s me who’s here, but you can’t blame me for this one, doll.”

A weak chuckle escaped Bucky’s lips as he looked from his hand and to your sleeping frame. “They think we’re married, by the way. Mostly because of the dog tags they found on you. I’ve…I’ve got em’ right here. They’re safe. You’re safe, doll. Just…just kinda need you to wake up soon. Maybe tell me to piss off. Not that I’d leave you anyway, but that’s kinda our thing, right? Fighting?”

Bucky went silent for a while as he looked at you.

“I need you to fight me, sweetheart.” Bucky told you. “So you’ve gotta mend and pull through all of this. Whatever happened out there in the field…that’s not the end of your story. It can’t be. I won’t let it.”

Bucky could hear your voice in his head. “You’d don’t have a choice in it, Barnes.”.

Bucky told you a few more things, like how he’d called both Hill and Sam. He told you that he’d text Wanda, “She’ll get it once she lands. I’m sure she’ll be flying through that window soon.”

But, eventually, he stopped talking. He just let the sound of your steady heart fill the room. It was proof you were still alive. You were still here.

On the days where Bucky couldn’t sit with you, Wanda took his place. Or Kate. Or Sam. On the odd occasion, Joaquin sat with you. Bucky had walked in on plenty of PowerPoint presentations of how his suit was better than Sam’s old one.

But when he did sit with you, his mind would wander to memories of you and him. Like the training room when he’d told you he knew you had his dog tags, or when he’d helped you when you got hurt a few months back.

But one stuck out to him in particular. Plenty stuck out to him as time ticked by, but he was reminded of this one as he looked at the side table beside your bed. Your knife lay on top, still in its protective covering.

Less than three weeks before you’d landed in hospital, Bucky had been training with you.

The main noises being made were grunts. As you hit his chest, as he knocked your legs down, as you twisted his arm, as he flipped you onto the mat, as you kicked his legs from beneath him, as you both rolled across the mats before you landed on top, trapping him in place.

“Give in yet?”

“Do you?”

You were about to question what he meant, but then you felt it. Cold and sharp; he had your knife, again. But this time, it was pointed against your side.

“What?” You hesitated for a second and looked away. Bucky took his opportunity.

In two simple moves, you were on your back staring up at him with your own knife gently pressed against your skin.

“Give in.”

You groaned and rolled your eyes at his glowing smirk. “Yes. Fine. Now get off me.”

Bucky chuckled and stood up, lowering his hand down to help you up. At first, you swatted it away. But he held it out again, “Come on.”

Reluctantly, you accepted it and he helped you stand. “You’re focusing too much. Too in your head. You need to relax.”

Bucky flipped the knife over in his hand so he was pinching the sharp blade. He handed it over to you and you swiped it up. “Thanks.” Your voice grunted a little before you placed your knife back in its place.

“You know, if you wanted to, you could train with me more often.” Bucky offered as he walked away. “I know you and I are…whatever we are. But I have training that isn’t exactly found in a Shield manual.”

“I’m fine.” You said, avoiding looking at him as he stood with his back to you. You had stared at him in this fashion one too many times. It was only a short time before someone caught you doing so. Even worse if it was Bucky.

“It’s not an issue. Hell, we don’t have to even talk-”

“I said I’m fine.” You didn’t mean to raise your voice when you spoke to him. You regretted it instantly. You sighed. “Look, I know you mean well. And, thank you. But I’m okay.”

Bucky watched you, over his shoulder. You walked away from the mats, grabbed your water bottle and sat down on one of the opposite benches.

“What is it?”

“What?”

“Do you have a problem with me or something?”

You sighed. “Bucky.”

“I get you and I don’t exactly get along-”

“I don’t have a problem with you,” you cut him off. “I just-”

You gave a short sigh. There were so many reasons why it wouldn’t work if he was the one to train you. He wouldn’t know it, but you’d become more distracted by him. And for some reason it was written into the heavens that if you and Bucky spent more than ten minutes alone together, things in the air started to get…close. Too close.

But the main thing was your undisclosed feelings for the super annoying, massive pain in your ass, super soldier. The longer you spent around him, so close to him, the harder they were getting to manage.

It was only a matter of time before he figured out the truth.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea. Can we just leave it at that? Please?”

Bucky watched you for a moment before nodding. “Okay. Forget I ever mentioned it.”

You just nodded.

Later that evening, Bucky had been with Wanda. And he’d been avoiding the topic of you ever since he walked through the front door.

“Did something happen between you two?” Wanda just flat out asked him.

“No. Nothing happened.”

“You’re sulking, so I know something happened.”

Bucky shrugged. “She just doesn’t want my help. I’ve tried being nice. But she’s just so…her. It’s annoying.”

Wanda nodded. “Yeah, I’m gonna need more information than just…you not handling your school boy crush very well.”

“I don’t-” Bucky shut his mouth as he whipped his head around to look at Wanda. “I don’t like her like that.”

“Doesn’t like who?” Sam asked as he walked through the door.

“Bucky. Not liking Y/n.”

Sam just barked a laugh as he opened up the fridge and put his groceries away. “Ha! That’s a bullshit lie if I’ve ever heard one.”

“What-”

“Bucky,” Sam was practically laughing. “You’ve had a crush on her for god knows how long. I don’t know what twisted bullshit you both have going on that prevents you from talking like normal human beings, but even I know you saying you don’t like Y/n is nothing but a complete and utter bullshit lie.”

Bucky looked at Wanda for backup but she seemed to be on Sam’s side.

“You know, maybe if you…I don’t know…talked to her rather than fight her-”

“She fights me!”

Sam just looked at him. “You fight each other.”

“Maybe you should just try and talk to her,” Wanda told him. “Might just clear a few things up.”

Sam sat down on the arm of the chair. “You’ve had feelings for her for a long time, Buck. Maybe it’s time you did something about it.”

Bucky just sighed.

“How long have you guys been married?”

Bucky hadn’t noticed the nurse walk inside to your hospital room, at first. “Sorry?”

“I’m sorry to ask,” she apologised as she changed out your IV and drew some blood. “It’s just…I’ve seen a lot of couples pass through these doors and I’m yet to see ones with a connection like yours.”

Bucky sat up. The nurse could read the confusion on his face from a mile away.

She just stepped to the side and pointed at the print of the heart rate.

“See these spikes here?”

Bucky nodded.

“These are from when you’ve been with her. It’s good they’re going up. It means she’s recognising her surroundings. At the very least, the people in it. You’re healing for her.”

Bucky just looked at your still sleeping frame. He was helping you heal?

He was helping you heal?

The nurse smiled again. “How long have you two been married?”

“Not long,” Bucky answered. “But we’ve…we’ve known each other for years.”

The nurse smiled. “Who made the first move?”

Bucky thought for a moment. “She did. She saved my life.”

And you had.

You’d been one of the new agents placed with the team. In the middle of a forest, Bucky had noticed every tripwire save for one. As something came flying over head, you’d swiped his legs from underneath him and pinned him down.

“You’re welcome,” you whispered.

That had been the first time Bucky had met you. It had also been the first time he’d looked you in the eyes. He could have happily drowned there and then. Which scared him. More than he knew what to deal with.

“And now you’re here saving hers,” the nurse smiled. “I’ll be back in about an hour. Is there anything I can get you? Blankets, pillows?”

Bucky shook his head. “No, I’m okay. Thank you.”

��She’ll be okay, Mr Barnes.”

Bucky just nodded and watched as the nurse left. As he turned his head, that was when he noticed your chart. They still kept you as Y/n Barnes. Nobody, including Bucky, had bothered to correct them. If anything, it meant Bucky still learnt about your injuries and your healing process.

It also meant he got access to stay with you for as long as he wanted. Which, if he didn’t have to work and if Sam didn’t come and drag him outside every few hours, he’d stay the whole time.

It was a month or so more before you finally woke up.

When Bucky had gotten a text from Joaquin telling him to get to the hospital quickly, he’d dropped what he was doing and came running down the hallway of the hospital ten minutes later.

“What’s happening?”

“I-I don’t know.” Joaquin told him. “I was just holding her hand and she moved. Like, she squeezed my hand.”

“What?” Bucky moved past Joaquin and to your side, leaning his hand on the side headboard.

“Y/n? Hey, doll? Can you hear me?”

Bucky held your hand in his. Nothing happened. “I know you don’t like me all that much, but if you can hear me, can you try and squeeze my hand?”

Again, nothing.

Bucky looked at Joaquin.

“I didn’t dream it.”

Bucky looked back at you. For a split second, he pushed some of your hair from your face. “Doll, if you’re awake, please. I just need you to squeeze my hand.”

Again, nothing.

Until there was something.

“Go and get a nurse.”

“On it!” Joaquin practically flew out of the room.

It all happened in a matter of seconds. Joaquin had been talking to you, telling you that you were gonna be okay. Then you heard Bucky’s voice which was quickly followed by a rough hand gently holding onto yours.

And when you finally opened your eyes, you saw him. Standing beside your bed, holding your hand, looking like the world had finally started moving again.

It was a few hours before you came around properly. And when you did, it felt a lot less hectic. Everything was peaceful and quiet. You had time to look around. There was a steady beeping somewhere.

A heart monitor.

You had different wires and tubes sticking out of you. The lights weren’t as bright as they’d been when you’d first woken up.

But the thing that caught your eye the most was the sleeping frame of Bucky, hunched over your bed. Then you felt it. His hand, still in yours.

You tried to squeeze his hand but eventually it hurt a little less and he stirred awake before shooting up.

“Hey, you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

“How long have I been out?”

Bucky answered you honestly. “Almost two months. The damage was extensive. Can you remember anything?”

You just nodded. “I think I blacked out after the building collapsed because I don’t remember anything after that.”

Bucky stood and pressed a button on the headboard of your bed before sitting beside you, clasping your hand in his. If it had been any other time, you would have taken your hand right back.

But in that moment you needed comfort. You needed to feel safe.

You felt safe with Bucky.

But then you gasped. “Shit.”

“What? Are you hurt? What is it?”

You sat up and touched your chest and neck. “Your- your tags. I-”

Bucky just pulled the chain from his shirt. “There’s right here.”

You visibly relaxed but then you tensed as you watched Bucky remove them. “What are you doing?”

A small chuckle left him, “Just stay still, would you?”

“It’s not like I can exactly run away right now.”

Bucky smiled to himself before lifting the chain up and over your head. “There.”

You looked at him, wondering what he meant by all of it. “They’re your tags, Bucky.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “But I know they’re safe with you. They always looked better on you, anyway.”

Once Bucky knew you were okay, he’d wiped the rest of the tags clean. He’d been waiting to lay them back on you. He didn’t want to do it while you were sleeping. He needed you to fight him first.

He needed proof you were alive.

That was when the door opened and a nurse walked inside. “You’re awake! I must say, you nearly gave me and your husband a fright earlier. The doctor hadn’t predicted that you would wake up this early.”

You looked at Bucky and whispered, “Husband?”

“Just go with it,” he whispered back.

It wasn’t until an hour or so, when both the Doctor and nurse had left, that you spoke to Bucky again.

“You wanna tell me why we’re married?”

“They found my tags with you. They called me and…”

“You never corrected them?” You’d asked that question a lot calmer than Bucky had been expecting.

“It meant I got to stay with you longer. And that they’d tell me what was going on.”

“You didn’t need to do that, Bucky.”

Bucky was honest with you. “I’m glad they called me first.”

You hand clutched the tags dangling from your neck. “They really thought you were my husband?”

Bucky chuckled. “If anything, the tags made sure you came home.”

In the silence as you and Bucky looked at each other, you felt the coolness of the metal in your palm. His tags had brought you home. His tags had brought him to you. His dog tags made sure you weren’t alone. And something told you Bucky had the same idea.

Which was only confirmed when he attended almost every physio appointment with you.

“How’s she doing, doc?”

The physio smiled as they held their arms up, in case you fell. “She’s doing great.”

“She’s tired and pissed off.” You answered truthfully.

“If it makes you feel any better, I brought your favourite snacks from that store you and Kate found.”

Your hand gripped the two parallel bars as you slowly walked from one side to the other. “How the hell do you know about that store?”

“I asked Kate. She told me.”

As the phyio’s pager went off, Bucky offered to take over for a few minutes to help you. And, considering the medical staff still believed you and Bucky to be married, you’d both decided to just keep the act up.

So, slowly walking beside you in case you fell, Bucky helped you turn around and walk back down the parallel bars.

“How’ve you been feeling?”

“You mean other than tired and pissed off?”

“Yeah.”

“Sore,” you admitted. “Bored. I can’t wait to get back home.”

If Bucky was being honest, he would say the same thing. Even if you did spend more time fighting each other, he missed it. He missed you.

“Neither can I.” The honesty slipped out from Bucky before he could think about any awkward consequences.

You paused and looked at him. “What?” Your voice was a little softer than usual.

“What?” Bucky shrugged. He’d said it. There was no taking it back. “It’s boring without you. I get we might fight the whole time, but without you I’ve got no one to keep my ego in check.”

Bucky earned a laugh from you as you looked away to keep walking. And he laughed, too.

You had to admit. Laughing with Bucky rather than groaning was a nice change.

And it only got easier from there on out. Your groans had turned to laughter, your scowls had turned to smiles and the roll of your eyes had turned to tears of laughter.

And slowly, the same things happened for Bucky, too.

Eventually, the ten minute window you and Bucky spent together turned into twenty, then forty and before either of you knew it, hours had passed.

You were both together and, surprisingly, still alive.

Part Four

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readychilledwine · 3 months ago

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Heartbeat

Summary - One bed doesn't work well for 3 illyrians and their mate.

Warnings - Azriel's slutty sweatpants, mentions of wing clipping but nothing graphic, swearing

A/n - Anyone else wonder how any quad would handle a one bed situation?

Written for @polysjmweek day three: Will there be enough room?

SJM Poly+ Week Masterlist

Master Masterlist

“Oh you have got to be shitting me,” Azriel grumbled. “Rhys, you were supposed to ask for 2 beds.”

“I did,” The High Lord pulled off the hood that did nothing to disguise him, prompting a giggle from you and Cassian. The look of annoyance he gave the two of you had you hiding your face in Cassian's chest. “I suppose you two think this is very funny.”

“Very,” Cassian chuckled. “Azriel is acting like the 4 of us haven't been sharing a bed for, what, 200 years?” Cassian's hands guided you into the room, setting your bag down. “Go bathe first.”

216 years, you would never correct Cassian, and they still ensured you showered first in these situations. It wasn't the first time you four found yourselves in a rundown inn seeking shelter after a rough mission. It wouldn't be the last either. Peeling off the sweat and dirt-caked clothing made your skin crawl. You four had been hunting Illyrians that had crossed Rhysand for the last time. Your husband was tired of the clippings and the fighting.

All three of your husbands were, actually.

It had started with you and Cassian. The bond had snapped when he saw you on the Summer Court's pleasure barge, per his banishment from your home. He had introduced you to Azriel a few days later, the fight between them now being the cause of the infamous sand castle collapse that shook the Summer Court. Not wanting to live without them, you left when they did, arriving at the Night Court and causing another fight the second you laid eyes on Rhysand. The four of you worked hard to make the dynamic flow, but once it fell into place, the three of them all admitted their lives and connection made so much more sense.

“Do you need help, sweetheart,” a purr made you pause, hands moving away from the corset you wore for extra protection. Rhysand began to work on the ties. “We are attempting to figure out the bed situation,” his voice was slightly annoyed. “With two males with wings-”

“Baby, I can sleep on the floor,” you offered.

“Over my dead body,” his eyes met yours in the mirror. “If we move the bed to the center of the room, we can have Azriel and Cassian take the outsides-”

“And squish you in the middle with me on the floor,” your voice was meant to be firm, but the relief as he finally finished unlacing your corset made it more of a relaxed sigh. “You can't handle sleeping on floors or the couch. your knees will get stiff, and then you will become grumpy.”

He nipped at your ear playfully, “I do not get grumpy.” He walked with you toward the tub, arms around your waist as he hugged you from behind. He kept you practically glued to him, turning the faucet on, “I fear the water won't get warm.”

“It's okay. One cold bath won't kill me,” your fingers traced his forearm tattoos. “We get to go home tomorrow, right?”

He nodded, “Azriel found and took care of the last group while you and Cassian were doing whatever you two were doing.”

You leaned back to narrow your eyes, “Very serious mission things.” A lie, and Rhysand knew, but he wouldn't push it. “We were critical to the success of this operation.” Not a lie.

A dark brown lifted as his smirk began to form. “I will pretend I didn't just see a flash of what you two were doing in the woods today. Bathe while I get the bed figured out.” He left after smacking your ass, laughing as he did.

You sunk into the water, the harsh drag of wood on wood outside the door. The rules of your missions typically involved bathing quickly so you could all wash up, but with the water cold, there was little reason not to soak longer than you normally would. Once you were chilled to the bones, you stepped out and drained the tub, cringing at the sight of the dirty water.

A real bath, preferably with 3 sets of hands helping you, would be a must once you were back in Velaris. You wrapped yourself in the towel, walking out to where Azriel was situating things. “And where did the other two go?”

“They claim food,” he murmured. “Rhysand said the water is cold.” His hand reached for your hair, twisting a lock. “Are you cold?”

“A bit.”

“Start a fire if you'd like,” the tone of his voice was soft and almost musical, as it always was when he relaxed. His lips were warm on your forehead as he went to bathe, leaving you to try to heat the cold room with the small hearth. You studied the bed once you had it going, changing into your last clean pair of leggings and finding one of Cassian's shirts to wear.

There was no possible way all four of you would fit. Your bed in Velaris was custom-made, allowing all three males to stretch out their wings. That wouldn't be possible here. Rhysand would have to keep his tucked in with his magic, Azriel and Cassian would have to let theirs rest on the floor.

You had a plan. One they'd hate. You grabbed a blanket from the corner of the room and a pillow and laid in front of the fireplace. They'd believe you fell asleep warming your skin back up and hopefully, they'd let you sleep there. Maybe that would allow the three of them some sort of comfort. You shut your eyes, the warmth so enjoyable it lulled your mind into relaxing.

Cassian and Rhysand walked back into the room, Cassian quick to notice your form curled up under a blanket. “We should have just pushed and flew her home,” he told Rhysand. He kneeled down next to you, waving the questionable soup in front of your nose. Your tummy grumbled, forcing you to open your eyes from the sleepy state. “Eat.”

You took the bowl, sitting up to see Azriel coming out and Cassian motioning for Rhysand to go in. Azriel's sleeping pants hung loose on his hips as he grabbed a bowl as well. His waist looked fsr more interesting than the grey and clumpy soup, but you resisted the temptation. “Like bathing in a damned river,” he muttered to Cassian. “What are you doing on the floor,” he glanced at you.

“Sleeping,” your face, as you took a spoonful of soup, made both males pause.

“Can't be picky, sweetheart,” Azriel said softly. “Picky starves.”

“I know.”

Rhysand took the fastest bath you think he'd ever done, shivering as he walked back out in his towel and began to change. He said nothing as he took his first bite of food, nor did Azriel. Cassian had got to take his turn by the time you looked up. Once he was back, his own pants did not rest as low as Azriel's. He glanced at you. “That is my shirt,” his face was bright as he took you in, the material hanging almost drowning you in it. “But yes, you can wear it.”

All eyes were on that single bed. Rhysand appeared to be calculating the space, as if he could ensure his little plan would work. You laid back on the floor, stretching and then curling back to the fireplace. Wordlessly defiance was something you specialized in, but the three of them weren't stupid, and it didn't take them long to begin situating.

Azriel wanted the spot that'd allow him to lay facing the door, always on high alert when your little pack found itself away from home. Cassian took the side that allowed him to face the window, another watchful eye to where any threats may come. Rhysand was forced between them, a silent conversation before Cassian walked over and picked you up.

That's how you found yourself laying on Rhysand. One of his arms held your hips as the other moved to cup the back of your head. One wing rested on the two of you like a weighted blanket, then another. “Go to sleep,” Rhysand whispered to you. “You may not realize this, but you are trapped.” There was no response from you, no argument. The soft sound of your breathing was the only thing coming from you as you laid on what would now Be your favorite bed.

“Next time, we will fly home,” Azriel stated.

Cassian immediately agreed, “This isn't fair to y/n.” They both glanced at Rhysand when he didn't respond, only to find him asleep. “Or maybe it wasn't fair to us,” Cassian added.

“Thinking it definitely wasn't fair to us,” Azriel chuckled. “He worked this to his advantage.”

“He always does,” Cassian said. His voice was getting deeper and slower. “Always does.” It did not take long for the two of them to fall asleep, the room filled with nothing but the sounds of a dying hearth and four hearts beating in sync.

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malum-forev · 5 months ago

Text

Casual

Summary: a glimpse into your secret relationship with Bucky. The one he threw away.

CABNW!Bucky x Agent!Reader

Part 2: More Than Casual?

“This is so, so wrong.” Bucky mumbles against your lips, hands tangled in your hair.

“But it feels so right.” You counter, looking up at the heaving super soldier through your eyelashes.

He wasn’t all wrong. It was heavily looked down upon for a senior member to fraternize with a younger trainee. But who cares when the two of you are under the influence of heavy alcohol and worn out from your most recent mission?

It should’ve ended after that. You were supposed to be a one night stand. But Bucky couldn’t get you out of his mind. And what bothered him the most was that you seemed unfazed.

“Was it not as mind blowing for you as it was for me?” Bucky says in between deep thrusts, the wrinkle between his eyebrow creasing.

“What?” You ask breathlessly. A second ago you were on a mind numbing roll heading toward climax and now, he’s completely taken you out of it with just a couple of words. “What are you talking about.”

He dives deeper, making your eyes roll back. “You’re the best I’ve ever had in decades, and you just acted like I was average.”

You have to stop yourself from laughing. “Didn’t we agree that we were going to keep our little meeting low key?”

“Low key doesn’t mean forget about it completely.” Bucky says with a huff.

Your eyebrows raise. “You want recognition.”

“I want you to admit I’m the best you’ve ever had.” His voice is gravelly, his eyes scan your face like he’s trying to catch every single movement in it.

“And if it wasn’t?” You challenge.

“Then you’d be lying.” He trails his vibranium arm over your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“How do you know?” You whisper.

“Because I was right there with you, doll.” He smiles against your lips, driving his hips up.

A couple of hookups turned into him leaving an extra set of clothes at your place. Supposedly he only did it to make your meet ups more efficient. But you knew that the Sergeant was lying to you, and to himself. Every morning he’d make his way through your kitchen, making two coffees and cleaning up whatever you’d left the night before.

A few months later, you cleared a couple of drawers for him. And Bucky gladly left his favorite Henley’s at your place along with his infamous leather jacket.

Neither one of you knew what this was but you were having fun. And that’s what counted, right?

You liked moving up the ranks without having anyone undermine your work just because you’re sleeping with Bucky. And he liked not having to be vulnerable in front of other people.

But soon, months turned into years. And before you knew it, Bucky was bringing you flowers every Friday and staying over more days than not.

He’d share his fear of navigating the new world without a clear purpose. And you’d talk about how this job made you feel lonely most of the time.

Your fellow agents would always try to set you up with whoever they knew. You’d politely decline the blind dates, not missing the way Bucky would give whoever would be your potential date, a tougher routine.

And Bucky, well, no one was really trying to set him up with anyone.

But your favorite part was work functions. Galas and charities where the two of you would act like strangers only to go back home to the same address. It was like a game for you two, until it wasn’t.

“Sergeant Barnes,” you nod your head, ordering a cocktail at the bar.

He tilts his head. “Agent.”

You should have known something was off, his eyes were dull and his voice sounded tight. But you assumed it was just because of the setting. Bucky never felt comfortable in places like this.

“What’s wrong?” You ask under your breath.

“Nothing,” his voice is clipped.

A photographer comes close to you two, holding up his camera and getting a picture before either one of you could object.

“Delete that,” Bucky snaps. “Now!”

“What’s gotten into you?” You hiss, waving away the innocent photographer.

“We can’t be seen together.” His blue eyes look everywhere but yours. “It’s not good for my image to be with a former widow.”

Your jaw slacks. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Sure, Bucky had expressed some interest in running for congress but you never thought he was serious. And between constant missions and Bucky staying back, you weren’t quite up to date with the man you’ve been seeing for three years.

“I hired a publicist,” He shoots a look back to a man standing close to Sam. “He recommends I stay away with my former team. It looks better for my campaign if I focus on the future, rather than the past.”

“The past?” Your breath gets caught in your throat.

Bucky looks down at the floor.

“So us…” You couldn’t finish your sentence.

“Us?” Bucky raises his eyebrows, questioning all those years of you two.

You scoff. “Drop the act, you know what’s between us.”

“Look, these years have been nice,” Bucky gulps. “But we both knew that we were just playing around.”

“Playing around?” You raise your eyebrows, a knot forming in your throat.

“Casual.” He shrugs.

“Was it casual when you chased after me in Bangladesh?” You challenge. “Was it casual when you asked me to stay because you wanted to feel me at night? Was it casual when you said you loved me?”

Bucky finally looks at you. “You have to understand, congress means I can make an impact-“

You finish off your drink. “Listen to me, James Buchanan Barnes, this is the last time I let you speak to me. From now on, we’re strangers—better yet, you’re dead to me.”

“C’mon, it doesn’t have to be like this,” he tries to hold your hand but you escape his soft grip.

“Good luck, Congressman Barnes,” your eyes get glassy. “I hope you get everything you want.”

You never look back, not wanting to let him see how much he hurt you.

Author's Note: hihiiii please remember I posted the first chapter of my book All For The Crown, it's on my page. I'd love it if you guys could take a read and leave me a comment! Thanks as always for all the love! My asks are always open!

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harrysfolklore · 1 year ago

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lando norris being down bad for his girlfriend: a compilation

summary: lando norris can’t help but talk about his girlfriend whenever he cans, fans make compilation videos about it

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

Lando Norris could be described as someone who's not scared of saying whatever crossed his mind.

And that's why he never, ever, missed the opportunity to talk about his girlfriend whenever he had the chance.

He mentioned her during interviews, press conferences, social media post and even fan interactions. To the point where fans started making compilation videos with all the moments he publicly obsessed over his girlfriend.

The most popular one gathered millions of views on YouTube, showing multiple occasions Lando couldn't help but be down bad for her.

The video started with a clip from Q&A with fans, someone asked him about his favorite way to relax after a race. Without missing a beat, Lando replied, "Cuddling up with my girlfriend, of course. Nothing beats that."

"You're really whipped man, It's embarrassing," Oscar, his teammate, teased beside him, making the audience laugh.

"It's not, really." Lando shrugged proudly.

The next clip was taken from McLaren's Tiktok account, their content creator tried to do the "Can you watch my ___ for a second" prank on Lando.

"Oh my girlfriend already did this prank to me," Lando said, laughing at the camera, "Baby, If you're watching this, I miss you. Your pranks are way better than McLaren's"

The video moved to show Lando during a post-qualifying interview, his suit hanging by his waist and his fireproofs showing, when asked about his strategy for the race, he cheekily replied, "Well, first I'm going to call my girlfriend for some good luck wishes. Then, I'll focus on getting to the front."

"Zak Brown should hire your girlfriend as your strategist then," the interviewer joked.

"That would be great but I don't think we would be getting any job done. You know what they say about mixing business with pleasure."

The next clip showed Lando with his friend and fellow driver Max Fewtrell, playing a trivia game about how well did they knew each other. Max had to answer what was Lando's worst habit.

"I'm going to say leaving dirty plates around the house," he said, showing his board, "You do mate, admit it."

"My girlfriend would agree on that," he admitted, "She's always complaining about it."

"I don't know how she's still living with you."

"Because she loves me, and I would die if she leaves me."

On the same note, a video of Oscar teasing Lando followed right after.

"Who's most likely to snore?" Lando read the question, and Oscar quickly put ut the cutout with Lando's face, "How are you so sure? You didn't even hesitate."

"Mate, I've heard you, plus your girlfriend literally complained about not being able to sleep properly last night because you kept snoring."

"I did keep her up last night, but it wasn't just because of the snoring," Lando said, a cheeky grin on his face.

"Put the not safe for work disclaimer at the beginning of this video please."

The next segment was from Lando's own Youtube channel, he was doing a little vlog in Miami before the race weekend.

"Hi everyone," he said, filming himself in the mirror with his camera, "Today I'm back with another LandoLog, I'm going to be filming some behind the scenes of this Miami weekend, so without further ado, let's go," he moved the camera around, focusing on his girlfriend who was putting some mascara on her eyelashes, "Here's my beautiful girl, who takes ages to get ready. Say hi baby."

"Hi everyone," his girlfriend waved, laughing, "I'm not taking ages, I'm just making sure I look good."

"You always look good for me," Lando said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before turning the camera back to himself, "See, I told you she's the best."

The next clip showed Lando and Oscar together once again, this time they were giving a tour around the McLaren hub.

"This is my driver's room," Lando said as he opened the door, "It's cleaner than Oscar's, clearly, and looks like I have a bed."

Lando moved to put together the small bed that was behind the door, "This is an upgrade from last year, we didn't have this. I'll be definitely giving it some good use, to nap or with my girlfriend."

"Can we have a video where you're not a horndog please?" Oscar said, putting his hands on his hips.

"You're the horndog, I never said what we were going to use it for, we're just going to cuddle."

The video moved to show one of Lando's post race interviews after winning the Miami GP, he had been asked ho would be the most excited person about this win besides him.

"My girlfriend, definitely. I couldn't have done it without her," Lando said, his voice filled with emotion, "She's been my biggest supporter, my inspiration, and my motivation. This win is as much hers as it is mine."

The video then cut to a scene from Lando's gaming stream with Max Verstappen. The two drivers were deep into a game of Call of Duty, their banter and laughter filling the screen. Lando was focused, his eyes glued to the monitor as he coordinated with Max.

Just then, Lando's phone buzzed on the table beside him. He glanced at the screen and his expression softened, the comment section noticing, "Hey, mate, I need to go. My girl needs me for something," he said, setting down his controller.

"Lando! Are you serious right now?" Max said, his eyes still glued to the screen.

"I am, see ya," he turned to the camera, smiling not so apologetically "Sorry, guys, duty calls. See you next time."

The last scene was a snippet from an interview, Lando had been asked what he saw in his future.

He paused, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Honestly? I see a lot of racing, hopefully some championships," he laughed, "but most importantly, I see her. I can't imagine my life without her."

The screen faded to black, showing a text that read: Get you a man who is as down for you as Lando Norris is for his girlfriend.

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soangelbaby · 5 months ago

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red kryptonite clark testing your boundaries and pushing you to new limits during sex . . . here’s da fic

red kryptonite clark . . . would take advantage of every single second of you breaking down for him, and he’d use it all against you, forcing you to submit to him whether you want to or not. he’s all about dominance and control, leaving no room for ifs, ands, or buts, he wants what he wants, and won’t stop until he’s satisfied. he’d overstimulate you, three orgasms in and you’re completely wrecked under him trembling, chest heaving, completely overwhelmed by the intense pleasure—so much it’s turned painful because of how sensitive you are. but clark doesn’t let up, he continues fucking you raw—pounding into you, his hands roaming your body, gripping you so tight, bruises would surely form within the next minutes. “aww,” he mocks, “are you tired already? thought you could handle me…” clark bites at your skin, “guess i overestimated you, baby.” all you can do is moan, whimper, whine, in response to his total corruption, teaching you to take him, to give in, to become his.

red kryptonite clark . . . doesn’t just want to fuck you—he wants to own you. your mind, your body, your soul, everything about you belongs to him. every little gasp, moan, all because of him. he won’t stop until he’s the only person on your mind, he wants to be sure you won’t even think about letting anyone else near you because you both know they could never do you like him. he knows your body well—too well, exactly how to make you fold, crumbling under his touch, his senses heightening your anatomy, he can feel and hear the way your heart beats faster whenever he touches you, whenever he makes you do or say things you claimed you would never, he wants it all. clark will push and push until you finally break, unable to resist him, “you think you’re in control?” his fingers tug your hair harshly, pulling you into him, “keep pushing me. you’ll give in, i’ll make sure you break, and you’ll beg me for it.” he whispers in your ear, his hand sliding down to grip your neck, tightening just enough to remind you who he is.

red kryptonite clark . . . would corrupt you. his powers give him an extreme advantage over you—as if he needed them anyway. his strength is inhuman, one hand, that’s all it takes. one hand. and your arms are pinned above your head or behind your back while his free hands roams your body, causing you to feel extremely small and exposed. he wants you to feel how powerless you are under him, manhandling you, tossing you around like you weigh nothing, one second, you’re standing. the next? you’re over his shoulder, his palm landing on your ass with a sharp smack as he carries you effortlessly. “you struggle too much,” he mutters. “maybe i should fix that.” he loves how delicate you feel beneath him, how easy he can manipulate your body however he wants. his chest pressed against yours, completely caging you in, “i could do anything to you… and you wouldn’t be able to stop me.” you know you can’t overpower him, and he will always make sure you remember that.

red kryptonite clark . . . loves to ruin you, to make you into such a pretty mess for him. he grips your hair harshly, fucking up whatever cute style you had that day—demolished by him. tugging your cute and carefully picked hair clips or scrunchies, throwing them to the ground like they mean nothing, the second he sees you, he shakes his head, grinning, “you really thought this was gonna last?” he pulls it apart slowly, ensuring you feel him, you understand he’s in control of every single moment, if you try to stop him, he just grabs your wrists, swatting you away, “uh-uh, you’re mine, i want you looking exactly how i left you.” and if you get upset? if you pout? he enjoys it even more, tilting his head like he’s so amused by your reaction, “aw you upset?” clark taunts, gripping your chin, forcing you to look up at him, “thought you looked cute? trust me baby, you look so better like this.” and he would make you see what he did, dragging you to a mirror, standing behind you, “go on, take a good look. that little style? gone. all that effort? wasted.” he’d murmur in your ear, fingers digging into your waist, “and why? because i wanted it that way.” and if you refuse to acknowledge it? man, he will force you. his large arm snaking around your stomach, the other tightening on the back of your neck, “no, you don’t get to ignore this. look at what i did to you.” and he won’t hesitate to double down, if you squirm or fight.

red kryptonite clark . . . doesn’t just want your submission, he wants to see you fall apart. leaving you sore, aching, bruised, he wants to see that moment you’re too far gone but too hooked to walk away. he loves seeing that struggle in your eyes, that brief flicker of defiance before it vanishes completely. it excites him, turns him on, knowing you’re trying so hard to hold on, but you’re slipping, and it’s only a matter of time before you fall into the abyss he’s created for you. “you’re so close, aren’t you?” clark’s voice drops to a low, dangerous whisper. “i can see it, feel it, hear it, trying so hard to hold onto whatever left of you.” his every move, every touch is deliberate, pushing you closer to the edge. it’s a game to him—watching you crumble, feeling the tension build, knowing it won’t be long before you’re completely lost in him. “you’re slipping, baby. you’re already mine, and you love it.” the rush that hits him when you finally surrender, when you realize you’re no longer in control, is almost euphoric, more than just a power trip—it’s knowing you’ll never be the same after this. that feeling of ownership is addictive to him. you’re no longer a challenge; you’re a conquest, and with every step you take toward your breaking point, he feels that pull in his chest, that unrelenting satisfaction and he savors every moment of it.

★ rini’s note ; can yall hear me barking???? yeah u hear it 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 this man this mannnnn i cant even think straight jist need him to corrupt me pls !!! will beg for it !!!! likez and reblogz are sooo sexc so show me sum luv <3

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h0ttestgrlinm0urgu3 · 1 year ago

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𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔶 𝔭𝔦𝔫𝔨 𝔟𝔬𝔴

𝖍𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖞 𝖈𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

summary [henry let's you play with bows and you get carried away]

warnings [smut, mouth stuff🎀, bimbo~ish ig, no p in v, pet names, soft dom henry🎀]

being the type of girl you were you loved ribbons and bows. they weren't something you indulged in often as a child, growing up in the country and all, but once you got older you feel in love with them.

you'd put them everywhere, in your hair, on your clothes, there's even some on your walls and others tied around stuffed bears.

Henry had recently gotten you these really cute ribbon bow clips and you were currently sitting beside him putting them in his hair. he's not really paying attention to you, he's used to this kind of treatment and just sat scrolling on his phone. you dropped one of the clips from his hair and in to his lap. as you go to reach for it a thought flashes in your mind. 'can I put a bow on your dick?' you ask your boyfriend after retrieving the clip.

you see the way henry freezes and hurriedly say 'not these, like ribbon' you clear up. he lets out a breath and laugh before looking at you 'I was scared for a sec baby' he says tucking a peice of hair behind your ear making you smile. he returns your smile and leans in for a kiss. 'of course I'll let my pretty girl dress me up' henry says sitting back up with the clips still in his hair.

so excited you jump up and let out a squeal 'omg yay' you scream about to go into you and Henry's shared room for some ribbon. turning to him before you go saying 'don't get hard' which earns you an eye roll as you leave 'you wanna do it or not' he mumbles as your walking but you hear.

in the room your trying to figure out what color ribbon you wanted. you got it down to pink and purple, so you bring them out to henry. 'which one do you want?' you question, you sit beside him on the couch, getting comfortable with your upper half mostly on his lap. 'whatever matches my hair' he says as he scrolls through something.

you go with the pink since he had pink in his hair. unzipping his jeans and pulling his cock out your really happy to see the he wasn't hard. it might sound odd but you liked playing with his soft cock. cutting the ribbon to length before throwing everything on to the floor. you start to tie the ribbon at the base of his dick, humming to yourself as henry continued on his phone, you could care less.

looking down at the pretty pink bow you made your so proud in your self. you let out a giggle in excitement and notice the way Henry's cock twitched when you laughed. your mouth begin to water. trying something else you lightly blow making it twitch again.

you mouth became the ocean and you desperatly needed to taste him. opening your mouth and letting droll drip onto the head of his cock before lowering your head and licking it up. 'ohh fuck baby' henry moans out at the unexpected pleasure, finally placing his attention on you.

you take the tip of this cock in your mouth savering the taste of him. opening your mouth wider you take his full soft length in. feeling the bow brush against your lips. feeling him swell you come up for air letting out a little whine at the fact that this is the first time he's ever fully fit in your mouth, and it's because hes never let you suck it soft. and it's not gonna last much longer, but you'll enjoy having him in your mouth either way.

looking up to meet his gaze he grips your jaw and squeezes your cheecks together. sticking out your tounge he roughly brings you up for a sloppy kiss, gripping the back of your scalp. he breaks the kiss to leave kisses all over your face before letting you go back down to his cock, which is now fully hard.

bow intact.

you lick from the base to the tip repetadly. bringing your focus more to the head of his cock you bring one hand to the base and the other to his balls. 'fuck baby you know daddy likes that' he moans out as his hips buck forcing the tip of his cock all the way into your mouth. you gag a little before you adjust to it returning to your pace.

henry looks down to the ungodly display infornt of him. you desperatly sucking his cock, pretty hands playing with his balls with a pretty pink ribbon rapped around his cock, your eyes are watery, the floor beneath you full of droll and pre cum. your looking up to him eyes glossed over moaning every so often telling him just how much you love his cock.

'ahh- fuckk, baby im gonna cum' he moaned out. forcing the rest of his cock into your moth and down your throat henry couldn't hold back any longer. his cum being forced down your throat and falling from the sides of your mouth around his cock getting your bow all dirty. removing him from your mouth with a giggle and a smile so happy that you grew into loving bows.

[a/n: this randomly came to me and I wrote it right away so if it's bad blame it on that. 🎀]

#henry cavill #clark kent #bimbo reader #black fanfic writer #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x black reader #x black fem reader #clark kent x reader #henry cavill smut #bd/sm kink #bd/sm daddy #smut #clark kent smut #coquette #girlblogging #daddy's good girl

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rafesteddy · 21 days ago

Note

Dilf rafe and milf reader are SOO FUCKING GOOD , can we get a story on how they met?

thank you!!!! And thank you for your ask bb I appreciate it 💕 this does not need to be read with the rest of the DILF!rafe AU

𝓯𝓵𝓾𝓯𝓯

c/w: jealousy, emotional tension, toxic relationship, implied emotional + verbal abuse, language, + smoking weed

2.3k

𝓾𝓷𝓲𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓲𝓽𝔂 𝓸𝓯 𝓶𝓲𝓪𝓶𝓲…

The second Rafe walked in it hit him—thick, sticky heat and the sharp bite of cheap lemon cleaner that didn’t do a damn thing but stir up whatever had been festering in the air all summer. The place felt muggy as hell. Like breathing through a wet towel.

And the ceiling fan? A joke. Creaked overhead in lazy circles like it knew how useless it was.

Rafe stood there, already defeated, duffel strap digging into his shoulder as he took it all in. Twin beds pushed to opposite corners. Peeling desk chairs. A sketchy stain near the vent that looked like it had been there since the seventies.

He let out a long groan—loud, dramatic—and didn’t bother hiding the look he tossed Topper’s way.

“Why the fuck are we doing this again?”

Topper grinned, already flinging his backpack onto the bed closest to the mini-fridge. “If we wanna pledge, we gotta put in our time. Freshman dorms are part of the deal, bro.”

“Well this deal is a load of shit,” Rafe muttered, dragging a hand through his sweat-damp hair before tugging his hat back on. “We got the money. We could rent a boathouse; better than this. They wouldn’t even know—”

“Yeah,” Topper said, flopping down like he owned the place. “You’ll miss all this character-building Cameron.”

Rafe crossed the room and shoved the window open without a word. Leaned out on his arms and just watched. The lawn was chaos. Boxes everywhere. Parents yelling. Freshmen trying not to look lost.

Rafe didn’t know what he was watching exactly. He just needed to breathe. Needed something to keep his head from spinning. Then he saw you.

Halfway across the lawn. Half-hidden behind a box that clearly weighed more than it should’ve. Your knees were bent, back straining a little, and your dress kept catching the breeze enough to make it complicated. Your hair had fallen loose from its clip and stuck to the side of your neck as you shifted your grip, refusing to stop.

Rafe straightened, brows drawn together. You didn’t ask for help. You didn’t yell for someone to grab it. You gritted your teeth and kept walking, one step at a time, and he stared… For way too long.

He almost said something. Almost turned to Topper and mumbled something about going down there. But then some guy jogged up beside you. His shirt was half unbuttoned, cap spun backwards like he thought it made him charming. That smug grin didn’t help.

He strolled up like it was his cue, took the box right out of your arms without asking—like he was doing something noble.

Rafe’s jaw ticked. He hadn’t realized how tight his jaw had gotten until the heat crept up the back of his neck.

“Of course,” he muttered. “Why wouldn’t she be with someone?”

He exhaled through his nose, the corners of his mouth tightening.

Stupid to think she wasn’t.

𝓪 𝓯𝓮𝔀 𝓭𝓪𝔂𝓼 𝓵𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓻…

The campus bookstore was packed. Lines coiled around displays. Topper kept elbowing him every time a girl in a sundress walked by, muttering something slick under his breath like it was still senior year.

“Jesus,” he mumbled, flipping through his course list. “$300 for a book. Are you shittin’ me? Is that normal?”

Rafe barely heard him, just shrugged and sighed. “Got no clue, man.”

“Neither do I… I never bought a book before—”

“That’s embarrassing—”

“Like you have,” Topper countered and Rafe just smirked, shooting him a side-eye.

“Maybe not but I’m not goin’ around sayin’ it out loud,” he chuckled, standing in front of a shelf full of paperbacks, feeling his mind slip away again.

His thoughts kept circling back to you—how you’d looked under the sun, that determined face, that little crease between your brows when the box shifted. He hadn’t stopped thinking about you since move-in. Not once.

“You think Professor Brenner’s hot?” Topper asked suddenly. “I heard she’s, like, super fuckin’ hot.”

“Mhmm.”

Topper raised a brow, looking over his shoulder. “Okay, what’s going on with you?”

“Nothing—”

“Bullshit.”

Rafe grabbed the nearest book to do something with his hands and turned down the aisle.

And there you were, eyes scanning a textbook; your boyfriend’s arms wrapped around your waist, nose pressed to your shoulder, hat backwards again like he was trying too hard. He leaned in, murmured something soft, and you laughed, quiet, and short.

Rafe dated casually. Never anything serious. None of those girls had ever made his heart trip over a laugh… He was fucked.

Rafe’s stomach twisted. He didn’t know you; hadn’t spoken to you, but something about seeing you held like that—seeing someone else get your smile—felt wrong. He couldn’t explain it.

𝓪 𝓯𝓮𝔀 𝓭𝓪𝔂𝓼 𝓵𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓻…

Days slipped by, and somehow, Rafe kept finding himself back at the window.

Didn’t matter if it was loud or quiet, or what Topper was yelling about from across the room.

Once the quad settled and the streetlights blinked on, he always ended up there. Feet kicked up, joint burning slow between his fingers, acting like he wasn’t listening for the soft rhythm of your life drifting down from the floor above.

Your laugh came first. Always. He heard your playlists, your phone calls, you and your new-found friends, yelling over makeup and pregame plans, swapping dresses and daring each other to shotgun seltzers.

Other nights were quieter. Slower. He liked those best. When it was only you and your music, half-singing the words under your breath.

But once a day the tone shifted, the laughter stopped, and Rafe would freeze, muscles tight, waiting to hear how it’d play out.

It was always him. Your boyfriend—sharp, bitter, too comfortable with it like it was something you had gotten used to. He hated him. He hated the way he talked to you.

“What are you wearing?”

“Why are you bein’ dramatic, huh? Never said ‘you looked like a slut, alright?’ I said ‘other people might think that’.”

“I just want what’s best for you, okay? You running around like that isn’t it.”

“Why are you goin’ out when you’ve got me—”

“I told you, nothing happened. What do you have people watching me now?”

Jab after jab from your boyfriend, all caught on speakerphone, just reinforcing the mental list of things Rafe could never imagine saying to you.

“Yeah. Yeah. And you sound insane. Got no clue who Lexi is. You know what? I don’t have time for your shit. Call me back when you’re done bein’ a bitch and you start actin’ like my girl. The fuck has gotten into you?”

But tonight he was here and the fight got loud. He heard the door slam hard enough to shake the walls, your boyfriend’s heavy footsteps, and a string of muffled curses all directed at you followed.

Then he stormed out into the parking lot. His truck key in a death grip in his fist. Rafe watched every second of it from above, eyes narrowed. He didn’t move until the guy’s car peeled out of view.

And then footsteps. Yours. A slow, measured walk across the room. He heard it. Your exhale—long and needed. It sounded like freedom. And Rafe sat there, completely still, hating himself for smiling but now, there was a chance.

𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓷𝓮𝔁𝓽 𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽…

When the night fell, he was right back in his spot by the window—phone in one hand, joint in the other, eyes on the sky, half-listening to your playlist, between Topper’s play-by-play of his conquest with the redhead from Econ.

You were glowing. Even without seeing you, he could tell—your laugh was brighter; your voice lighter. That hot tension that simmered, cooled completely.

He could hear your friends teasing, shouting over one another about what parties to hit, who was texting who, whether the frats were lame tonight or just lame always. And then your voice, sweet and soft, cut through the chatter.

“Too much?” You asked, clearly asking about your outfit and Rafe’s heart ached at not getting to see you, the praise right on the tip of his tongue.

The door slammed open downstairs, voices bouncing hard against the brick. Heels clacked over the sidewalk. Laughter spilled into the quad, light and messy.

Rafe listened. Every voice was familiar now. He knew the sound of your roommate’s laugh when she was already half-drunk, the clipped way your other friend talked when she was trying to flirt and didn’t want to look like she was trying.

But not yours. You didn’t leave with them.

The door shut again, quieter this time; feet floating across the floor above. He looked up before he could stop himself, heart thudding, and there you were.

Your legs. Crossed at the knee. Smooth and bare, swaying slightly where they dangled out your window. You looked like a dream… His dream.

And then your face came into view. Tilted slightly; eyes, warm, a soft glow glistened on your cheeks.

Then like some kind of fantasy you reached out your hand and his heart stuttered. Rafe passed it up to you, fingertips brushing for a second.

You lifted it to your mouth without a word, eyes closing as you took a slow drag. Smoke curled past your mouth, pouring out of your lip as your head tilted back, lashes low.

It was stupid how beautiful you looked.

You leaned forward again, handed it back down to him with the faintest smile. “Thank you.” Your voice dripped like honey, low and warm in the quiet night.

He stared up at you, and the words tumbled out like he hadn’t even made the choice. “Rafe.”

“Hi, Rafe.”

You gave him your name and repeated it in a flash. “Pretty.” You laughed—soft and close-mouthed, the kind you’d snuggle up in somebody’s shoulder. “I meant your name,” he went on, all at once embarrassed.

"I figured." You smiled softer. "But… that was really sweet."

And still he couldn’t look away.

“You okay?”

You nodded, glancing inside for a moment, then back down at him. “Didn’t feel like going out. Needed a little quiet.”

“Good call,” he murmured. “Sometimes the quiet’s better.”

Your gaze had rested on him for an extra moment. “Do you always sit here?” Rafe shrugged and gave you one of those goofy, crooked smiles; a smile that you could already tell would get you in trouble.

“Only when I’m lucky, pretty.”

That made you laugh again—true and innocent. There was a pause, long enough for the silence to start to stretch.

And then he reached behind him. Fingers closing around something he’d been holding onto all day.

“I—Uh… I wasn’t sure you’d be up there tonight,” he said quietly. “I was feeling lucky. So I grabbed you somethin’.”

“You did?” You asked as he pulled the bouquet into view. You blinked, lips parting slightly as he hooked one arm inside, stepping onto the ledge, body outside the window, passing them to you as you reached down.

“Rafe…” Your voice dropped to a whisper. “They’re beautiful.”

“So are you… Figured if I ever got a smile from you I should give you somethin’ in return.”

“You’re really sweet,” you hummed.

He chuckled weakly, a light laugh letting you know that this wasn’t normal, like maybe he was surprising himself as well. “I’m tryin’ really hard.”

You hid your smile for a breath before leaning forward, gently brushing your hand across his sharp jaw. Then, without a word, you kissed his cheek.

It was soft; the barest press of lips to skin, but it stopped his heart. You pulled back slowly, eyes still on his, and he swore the air between you turned sweeter.

Your perfume surrounded him, the sticky slick of your glossed lips stamped on his cheek.

“You got ready,” he murmured. “You goin’ somewhere?”

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before tilting toward him more. “Well… I was gonna come down and say ‘hi’.”

His heart thudded so loud he was sure you could hear it. “Yeah?” He breathed.

“I still can.”

“No,” he blurted so fast it made you giggle. “Stay there. I’ll come up.”

He barely touched the floor—tripped over the fan, ignored Topper—and was already halfway out the door.

The stairwell blurred beneath him as he moved, taking steps two at a time, maybe three, like urgency alone could bend time. Near the top, his foot caught the edge of one step, nearly sending him flying. By the time he hit your floor, the rush was starting to wear off, and that’s when it hit him—how fucking dumb he probably looked. Not exactly his smoothest moment.

He scrubbed his hands down the front of his shorts, wiping away the evidence of his anxiety. Tried to get his shit together. Normally, he was good at this. Calm. Laid-back. Normally, he was a little cocky. Smooth without trying. But right then? Anything but.

You’d already heard him coming—his footsteps, the way he slowed outside your room. Maybe he didn’t know that. But it made you smile.

And when the door opened he exhaled long and needed. And it sounded like relief. And you stood there, looking up at the man before, and you hated yourself a little for already thinking this looked like forever.

Rafe stepped a little closer, voice warm and already familiar.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

#ᯓ★ˎˊ˗ dilf!rafe x milf!reader au #dilf!rafe ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ #dilf rafe #dilf!rafe #dad!rafe #⋆.°🧸๋ྀི࣭⭑ daddy #older!rafe #older!rafe ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ #rafe x reader smut #rafe cameron #rafe #outer banks #obx #rafe cameron x reader #my library ᝰ.ᐟ #rafe one shot 𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹

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et6rnalsun · 6 months ago

Text

PRANKING BOYFRIEND! MATT

your eyebrows were so close to touching the fucking ceiling as you raised them in skepticism, reading the comments written by little girls under some montages of your boyfriend hitting his brother. something like that seemed almost surreal to you, since at the beginning when you watched the unedited clip that nick had shown you, you’d just laughed like an idiot, finding it funny & just a familiar scene— unlike the fans who seemed to have taken it personally, maybe?

your manicured fingers scrolled through those comments, and you read and read until you lingered on one that stood out more than the others; babbling about how matt could perfectly be so violent and abusive in a relationship and towards his girlfriend, too. rolling your eyes, you fought the urge to answer her and simply turned off your phone, placing it next to you on the bed, matt’s one, you were lying on. the wheels in your head spun until they fabricated an idea that made you snap out of your rotting position, and you cleared your throat. “matt!” you called out in a loud voice, hoping he could hear you from downstairs.

you did it once, again, and then a third time—but to no avail. “come on,” you whined in a huff, taking the phone again as you went to emergency calls, “my love 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨⭐️” glowing red and first. you called his number, humming softly as the sound of the ringing vibrated in your ear where you had the screen resting.

when he answered, you smiled, your feet kicking at the sound of his soft and soothing voice, so tired from making dinner for you & his brothers. “matt, can you come up to your room please? i need to talk to you.” you already expected matt’s heartbeat and anxiety to be at a thousand at your statement. in fact, not even a minute later, he was already in the room as he approached after closing the door. “what is it, baby?” he asked you, tilting his head as he looked down at you. he stood over your prone form, and as he did, he placed his hands on the corners of your body, lowering his head slightly to kiss your lips as a sort of greeting. you wanted to give up on everything just because of the way his cold necklace was dangling on your neck, brushing against it.

dramatically, you pushed him away as you sat on the bed and looked at him with the most serious expression you could muster. “i’m for real, we need to talk”

matt frowned, sitting down next to you as he rested a hand on your knee — one way or another, he was always searching physical touch with you. it was melting your heart. “did i do somethin? tell me, honestly, i have no idea” he was in a state of mild panic, it was rare to see you so serious and offended by something. (even if it was all fake) “i didn’t like how you hit nick” these words made him roll his eyes in the sassiest way ever, and he raised a finger that you immediately slapped, continuing to talk. “i’m not kiddin’! what if you hit me like that too?” that was your joke; making him believe that you were seriously worried about something that in reality, you never could.

“you cant be serious”

“i am” you shrugged, looking at how his blue and pretty eyes widened.

silence filled the room for a moment, and he shook his head repeatedly as he took his hand off your knee. “how can you be serious, actually? that— that just means you don’t know shit about me,” his tone was hurt, and he moved to stand up as he looked ready to put an end to whatever that shit was.

but before he could get far, you stood up and practically jumped on his shoulders, your arms around his neck as you hugged him so tight, like he was about to disappear. “love, baby, light of my life, it was a joke,” you quickly told him, your head tilted so you could look directly at his face from your position. he was clearly confused as fuck. “i saw all this shit in the comments on a tiktok ‘bout you hittin nick and i wanted to do this. come on, forgive me,” you added, kissing his cheek lightly as an amused chuckled escaped your lips. and, you were fucked. from behind, he pushed you onto the bed before turning around and throwing himself on top of you, tickling you to death. “you havin fun playin with me like this, huh? really?” he said, a smile playing on his lips as he watched you squirm with the most beautiful laugh in the world. even if he should be angry and everything. “you are a bad person, fuck. the worst”

that said a lot about the kind of person your boyfriend was.

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets x reader #fem reader #matt sturniolo x fem reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturn #matt x reader #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo headcanon #matt sturniolo blurb #matt sturniolo being your boyfriend

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iamyourdailydoseofbi · 1 year ago

Text

DON'T TOUCH WHAT IS MINE. ( HOTD x Reader )

author note: I wanted to do HOTD x Greek Myths cause it's fun. If I get enough like or requests I'l do a HOTD x Greek Myths book on wattpad. pairing: Jealous! Aemond Targaryen x Noble Wife! Reader prompt: Aemond contemplates murder. word count: 1, 000+ words

You were supposed to marry Aegon, a way to secure allies in the North for when Aegon took the Iron Throne. But, when his Mother planned on marrying him to Helaena. Aemond swiftly made his move, knowing that the loss of an ally would upset his Mother. It was supposed to be only for duty. You were supposed to be his duty to his Mother and family. But, of course the Gods were cruel and he fell for you. Hard and fast. He practically fell flat on his face for you, like someone had punched him in the groin with a club named ‘love’.

You were just so perfect. You were a proper Lady in the Court, weaving your way through politics with a cunning grace. You smiled and happily listened to Helaena as she rambled on about whatever popped in her mind, never judging her. You played with Helaena and Aegon’s children, always so patient with the toddler’s. You were cordial, yet stern, with Aegon⎯keeping him in line for the sake of his family when you could. You understood the want for revenge after the loss of his eye. You were just so perfect and kind. He hated how much he fell in love with you.

Watching you chat with some Lord from the Reach, Aemond grits his teeth, shifting around in place. He wasn’t particularly thrilled about you speaking to that Lord, but he would not tell you nor drag you away. He knew that you had some ambition or plan behind speaking to the Lord, one he did not know yet but knew that you would tell him soon enough. You were smart like that.

Looking you over for any sign for him to interfere, he inspects your appearance with a subtle look of love. Your gown was more simple in feature, but a similar green to his Mother’s. Your hair is decorated with pearl and gold dragon hair clips. Your fingers decorated in rings, the sapphire one shining a particular bright. A smug smirk spreads on his lips at the sight of the ring.

“Yes, my lord husband, Prince Aemond is everything that I could ask for.” You nod, “I am content, actually I am more than content Lord Wormwood.”

“I am happy to hear that, your grace. But, I am just suggesting that…should you ever find yourself in need of some company whilst visiting the Reach⎯” Lord Wormwood suggests, making his blood boiling.

“No, now I must return to my husband’s side.” You cut him off, eyes shifting away.

“Just a moment longer⎯” Lord Wormwood tries again, attempting to keep the conversation going.

Watching you straighten up your back and fiddle with your wedding ring, he instantly catches the subtle signal from you. You needed him. Holding his head up a little higher, Aemond saunters over to you, attempting to hide his slightly faster walking pace than usual. Reaching your side in an instant, he gently places his hand on your hip, tucking you into his side.

“Aemond.” You whispers, a subtle glimmer of appreciation in your eyes.

“I do believe that my wife and I have other more important matters than you, Lord Wormwood.” Aemond cuts in, his voice cutthroat.

“I, uh, I well..” Lord Wormwood stutters out, shocked by the sight of Aemond lurking over you like some kind of protective dragon.

“Goodbye, Lord Wormwood.” You nod, dragging him away.

Feeling the tension within the room grow with each second, you softly intertwined your hands with Aemond, to prevent him from reaching for his blade. Tightening your grip on him, you start to drag Aemond away, knowing that he’d make some comment or at worst do something to Lord Wormwood. The last thing you needed and wanted was for a fight to erupt because some stupid old man couldn’t take a hint that you were married.

“Come, come, Aemond. I am sure Helaena will be happy for us to join her.” You lie, tugging at him a little harder.

“Yes, let us go, my wife.” He nods, his voice sharp.

“Come, Aemond.” You grit your teeth, “Let us go, now.”

“Yes.” Aemond glares down the squirming Lord, like he hoped that he would burst into flames.

Cringing at the tension in the air, you tug him a little harder, struggling as he was practically glued to his spot. Sighing as he refuses to move, you press a kiss onto his cheek, using it as a way to soften him just enough to drag him away. Smirking as he instantly melts like a dragon burning a piece of wood, you drag him forcefully, weaving your way through the sea of Courtiers.

“You kissed me.” He mumbles, a faint hum of pink on his cheeks.

“I did.”

“You kissed me, in public.” He repeats, “You have never done that before.”

“Yes, well, I cannot exactly carry you over my shoulder to stop you from killing that man. So a kiss is what it was.” You counters back, a hint of wit in your voice.

Looking over his face in an attempt to see his reaction, he doesn’t really display any emotions, just this flatness which was typical of him. You liked to think he was born with a stone face and that Alicent had mistaken him for a statue instead of a babe. Cocking a brow up at the lack of anything from him, you softly squeeze his hand, attempting to get his attention or something from him.

“I do not like him.” He grumbles, the disdain clear in his voice.

“Oh, really? I had no clue that you disliked him.” You jest, rolling your eyes playfully.

“Do not jest. Tis’ not a jesting manner.” He sulks, “He propositioned you to visit his bedchambers.”

“I know, tis’ why I had you infer. I do not intend to share a bed with any other man than you. So do not even think of entertaining any doubt’s, Aemond.” You argue, quickly dismissing any doubt he may have.

He goes quiet for the longest time. It almost looked like he was actually accepting your words without any possible argument or disagreement. Relaxing for a moment, you watch as he licks his bottom lip, his eye narrowing for a moment.

“Let me kill him.” He mumbles, almost like he was begging you to allow it.

“Not in public.” You argue, not taking him seriously.

“That can be arranged.” He smiles, a rare smile tugging at his lips.

Shaking your head with a gentle scoff, you look over his face for a moment, seeing that he was being serious. The look on your face shifting into one of annoyance. Whilst other men would have lashed out and caused a scene, Aemond was cunning and waited. Like a snake hiding in the tall grass. Smacking his arm softly, he lets out a soft snort, a cheeky little grin spreading on his face.

“No.”

“Fine.” He mumbles, rushing away from you. “I will not be the one to do it.”

“Aemond Targaryen, don’t you dare.” You scold, chasing after him.

---

@lovelykhaleesiii

@fragileheartbeats

@danytar

@nightvers

@zaldritzosrose

#house of the dragon #house of dragons #house of dragons x reader #house of the dragon x reader #hotd imagine #hotd imagines #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x reader

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unintentionalseductress · 1 year ago

Note

"I don't know why people complain about sloppy seconds" with pervy professor nanamin after his favorite student shows up to class already creampied by someone else >_< pervy prof nanami drives me crazyyyy

My god people talking to me about pervy professor Nanami are gonna drive me insane, I love him so much. Are you the same anon that participated in the game and mentioned pervy Nanami with the ropes?

(it might be kind of obvious how much I enjoyed writing this. can't help it. I'd be his cum dump if I could).

"I don't know why people complain about sloppy seconds"

--------

You were his student. HIS STUDENT.

Kento knew better than to get involved with you but something just drew him to you like a moth to a flame. Maybe it was how you were so close to graduating but still looked like an innocent doe-eyed thing, your cute little skirts too short, those thigh-high socks you liked to wear so coquettishly inviting.

He knew you had a boyfriend, he'd seen you two hanging around campus, barely hiding his envy as the two of you got handsy and made out shamelessly in view of everyone. It should be HIM gripping your thigh like that. It should be HIS lap that you sat on while you made out. But with gritted teeth he kept his composure, keeping a cool attitude towards you whenever you were in his class.

Today however, he was distracted the moment you came in. You were walking differently, almost gingerly, like you were holding in a breath. You took deliberate, slow steps to your seat, putting your bag down then turned to talk to a friend, leaning your upper body on the desk. He swears you're doing it intentionally to tease him, to make him lose his goddamn mind, and that was when he saw it; your too-short skirt hiked just high enough to flash him a little strip of your adorable pink panties, a stain of moisture visible, bleeding into the back part of the crotch.

Jealousy hits him in the stomach like a strong punch, practically leaving him winded. You had dared have sex right before his class? With that annoying frat boy who was barely keeping a passing grade? And then had the nerve to flaunt your used cunt in his classroom? Oh, that simply wouldn't do. With a huge effort he grits his teeth and starts his lesson, unable to ignore how you kept squirming in your seat, clearly struggling to keep whatever load your boyfriend had given you inside, to keep it from dribbling into your panties and down your thigh...

It was merciful when he was able to dismiss the class. But he called your name. Your heart skips a beat as you hear his gruff voice but you turn around, wide-eyed and sweet looking, and he feels his cock tighten painfully in his pants.

"Kindly close the door and lock it."

Your breath hitches and you feel like your legs are wooden but you follow his instructions and approach him at the front of the class.

"Is something wrong?" Oh you poor, sweet, lamb, standing there without a clue as to what's going on in your professor's head.

"You need to be more careful of your attire," Kento clips out, not failing to observe the way your nipples hardened under your shirt as he spoke. So he did have an effect on you.

"Excuse me?" you ask incredulously. "Who are you to tell me what can and can't wear?"

"I can if half your cunt can be seen from under your skirt. Yes, that's right," he adds with a smirk as your face reddens. "I saw a lot more of you than appropriate. Were you being intentionally provocative, or are you unaware what an inappropriate length all your skirts seem to be?"

"You-you...!" You gasp at him in embarassment and slight shame, but heat pools in your belly at the knowledge that he had been privy to your upskirt flash. "You perverted old man! I'm telling the dean that you're preying on your students!"

"Hmm go right ahead," Kento says smoothly. "And I'll tell him you're flashing your cunt to everyone that will see. With the way you're dressed, I'm sure there will be no questions left. And to make it even more interesting, I might add that there were...questionable body fluids all over your panties. As a concerned professor, I was only expressing my concerns for my student's well-being." The smile on his face could not be more smug and you wanted nothing more than to wipe it off his handsome, chiseled, face.

"Is that all? You wanted to lecture me about my clothes?"

"Are you aware how inappropriate it is to come to class with another man's semen in your cunt?" He grins as you look gobsmacked, spluttering.

"I-but I!"

"You were very uncomfortable for the length of the class. I could see you squirming." The grin is positively wolfish now.

"How dare you! You have no proof."

"Then you wouldn't mind showing me your panties? Since you're so keen on proving your innocence."

His words send a thrill down your spine straight to your clit which throbbed under his scrutinizing eyes. You could've said no. But the predatory way he was looking at you, jealousy barely contained made you want to do something shocking and brash. With a huff, you stand.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Kneel on that desk chair." You do so, feeling a little turned on as you do so, then try not to react as Kento's large hands hike up your skirt, revealing the pink panties that were stained with another man's cum.

"So utterly shameless," he growls before bringing his hand down on your ass, the resounding smack satisfying to his ears as your cheek stained red, your squeal of shock echoing through the classroom. Kento covers your mouth and spanks you again, your squirms futile as the slaps filled the classroom. When your ass was perfectly red and bore signs of his handprints, he stops. There were tears in your eyes and you sniffle.

"Aw, is the little slut crying from getting a much needed punishment? Will you remember not to enter classrooms full of cum from now on?"

You gasp as he pulls the panties off, running his hands over your thigh-high socks, then coming to your front to cruelly pinch your nipples.

"Have you ever been fucked by a real man before?" One of his hands drops to your cunt and traces your lips. You whine and try to move, which only results in your earlier creampie trickling out of your cunt, dripping obscenely onto the chair. Kento's eyes go feral at the sight.

"Shameless cumdumpster of a whore," he whispers into your ear, almost lovingly. "Let me show you what it's like to carry a real man's load."

You hear his zip being undone and you find that you don't want to resist him. Your hot professor wanted to fuck you, and you were damned if you said you hadn't thought about it before. His tip lines with your entrance and he slowly spreads your folds apart, splitting you into two and he fills and stretches you. You whimper at how thick he is, how good he felt inside you.

"I don't know why people complain about sloppy seconds," he growls in your ear as he starts to thrust. "Pussy is all nice and wet and slick. You'd been needing a second fuck today hadn't you?"

You moan as he begins to rut into you with abandon, the noises filling the clasroom. "Professor..."

"Professor..." he repeats in a high-pitched mocking tone, the humiliation adding on to your arousal. "That's right, I'm your professor. And I own your cunt. You think your pathetic keg sucking boyfriend has any idea how to please a woman?"

His fingers find your clit and begin to circle it and you cry out, your vision going hazy.

"That's right...real men not only fuck their whores, they satisfy them too."

He continues to firmly stroke your clit and to your embarrassment, you cum sooner than you thought you would, the orgasm hot and intense, something your boyfriend had never been able to achieve. You sob in delight as your pussy flutters around his cock, setting his teeth on edge.

"That's right. Let it all out you pathetic slut. How many times were you fucked and left dissatisfied? When you could have been on my cock, getting off?" He sloppily thrusts into you, lewd wet noises filling the air, then with a bark, feels his ball tighten satisfyingly before emptying themselves into your pussy, hot ropes of thick cum filling the cavern.

"Don't waste it," he says as he withdraws, watching your hole pucker in an attempt to keep it all inside you.

"Now you can go to the rest of your classes knowing what it means to be properly fucked. Tell your boyfriend I said hi later, when he tries to eat you out and tastes only me."

(I am now horny. Any hot professors need a cunt?)

#thirst game #thirst prompt #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento #nanami kento smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami kento fluff #nanami smut #nanami x reader smut #jjk x reader smut #professor nanami #pervy professor nanami #ncs #ncs scribbles #thirsty weekend

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marvelwitchergilmore · 2 months ago

Text

Hey, Sergeant

Summary: Bucky Barnes x fe!Reader -> Yelena offers you a job, but you want to meet your new boss before you agree.

Disclaimer: Mentions of guns, fighting, swearing. Reader is trained as a Widow, Bucky has a massive crush. Not Proof Read.

He’d had a long day. Between training, meetings, mentoring and dealing with rush-hour traffic in New York; all Bucky wanted to do was get home, cook a decent meal, watch some TV and go to bed.

But, instead, he was forced to fight.

He knew something was off the minute he walked inside. There was a new smell. Not the perfume Natasha wore, or even whatever sage stick Wanda was burning. Something that he didn’t recognise.

But no one was inside.

There was a cup in the sink, still half filled with coffee. Someone was still drinking it. Leaving his groceries on the kitchen island, he touched the mug. It was still warm. Someone was definitely inside. But they hadn’t come out yet. They were hiding.

Bucky looked around, reaching for the weapon locked under the kitchen island. “I know you’re still here.”

Bucky listened out. A noise came from the pantry. As he moved over, he made sure he was still covered before opening it up. No one.

Kate had just left the crackers balancing on one of the baskets, again.

Slowly, Bucky moved around the room. Making sure to check every hiding spot, he kept his eye out in case someone snuck up on him.

And they did.

From round a corner, you and Bucky came face to face. Your eyes, length of your hair, shape of your lips; each part of your face imprinted itself on his mind. If you got away, he’d still remember you.

“Who are you?”

“What is it to you?”

“You’re in my home.” Bucky told you.

“I’m here on invite,” you told him before reaching for his gun.

“What-” Bucky reached for yours.

You’d both switched positions. Bucky was against the wall. You started moving backwards as he walked forward.

“Who invited you?”

You smiled, your hand unwavering. “You seem pretty interested. Why don’t you guess?”

Bucky was stunned. Who the hell were you?

“Guess?”

You nodded. “Isn’t there something on your schedule for today, Sergeant Barnes?”

Bucky just stared at you. “Okay. Quit messing around. Who the fuck are you and why are you in my home?”

Rather than answering, you reached for your gun again. Before you knew it, you and Bucky were against the floor. He was above you.

He shook his head. “Not Hydra. Too eager. Hacker? Friday never signalled-”

You hit him just hard enough to roll yourself, trapping him under you. “Nice guess, but no.”

“You know, when I said you could meet him first, I didn’t mean like this.”

You both turned and looked at the door where Yelena was standing. “Are you done?”

You looked back at Bucky with a smile before standing up and getting off him, swiping your gun back as you did so. You checked the clip before making sure the safety was on and clipping it back to your side.

“Yelena, what the hell-”

“Before you yell, I brought her here.”

“Who is she?” Bucky asked, standing to his full height.

“She is your new assistant.”

“Assistant?”

Bucky turned and looked at you. You stood at ease. Like everything that had just happened…didn’t.

“I thought I told you I don’t-”

“Yes, you do. And there’s no point arguing with me, Bucky, because your scheduling is awful. You need help. And since you wouldn’t accept a Shield recruit, I brought Y/n.”

Bucky turned and looked at you. “You’re Red Room?”

You shook your head. “Red Room adjacent.”

Bucky closed his eyes for a split second and shook his head. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means I found her and she’s your new assistant. I trust her, Bucky.”

Bucky just looked away from Yelena and back at you, needing more than just one sentence.

“I was trained like I came from the Red Room. Secret files and footage my aunt got a hold of. Trained me up. Sent me to work. Few years later, Yelena found me thinking I was one of the brainwashed trainees.”

“And you’re, what? A secretary now?”

You chuckled and sat down. “I worked in an office through high school. It’s been a while but,” you looked around Bucky to Yelena and back to him. “It seems like I might be the only viable candidate.”

Bucky glared at Yelena, but she wasn’t accepting any excuse.

“You need someone, Bucky. And it’s either Y/n or Hill comes down here with a Shield Rookie.”

Bucky sighed. He couldn’t take another Shield Rookie.

“Monday.”

You smiled up at him. “Great.”

Nearly a year later, it was still the best job you’d ever taken. Well paid – Yelena made sure of that. Lots of work – Shield made sure of that, for both you and Bucky. And just…fun.

“James Buchanan Barnes!” You stood at the top of the hallway, your arms folded. Your voice was firm but not too mad. “So help me, God, if you don’t get your arse back here I will agree to Sam’s plan to set you up on a dating app.”

You and Joaquin watched as Bucky stopped walking. Despite his back being to both of you, you saw him take a big breath. You smiled and looked at Joaquin.

He turned around and walked back up the hallway to both of you. “Fine. I’ll do it. But I’m not gonna enjoy it.”

“That’s what you think,” you mumbled loud enough for him to hear. He shot you a glare, but you weren’t so easily withered.

Joaquin practically bounced on his feet. “Thank you. Seriously, Bucky.”

As he ran off in the other direction, pulling his phone out to make a call, Bucky turned to you. “I hate when you use my full name.”

“But I love your full name,” you smiled. Bucky just grunted and turned down the hall.

“Thank you,” you called after him, your voice a little softer. He just waved you a hand.

A week later, you were with Bucky in a tailor's shop. He was, yet again, messing with his collar.

You tapped his hand away and stood in front of him. “You need to quit it. Everything will be fine.”

“I can’t breathe in this thing.”

“Be glad you’re not in a corset.”

He just gave you a look.

You looked under the bow tie and fiddled with the buttons until they were undone. Pulling the bow tie from his collar, you looked around and judged different ties before picking one. You helped him tie it around his neck.

“You should come with me.”

You laughed. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m being serious. Joaquin said I should bring someone. And you’re my assistant. Technically you have to do what I say.”

You just gave a half smirk to Bucky. “What do you think the likelihood will be for me to say yes?”

He chuckled. “I know, but…please?”

You looked at him, his blue gaze locking on yours. His voice was soft. “I’m gonna need someone with me. And, as much as I appreciate people wanting to talk, I don’t think I can take an entire night of small talk. Please?”

A soft smile broke out on your face. “Okay. But only if you stop fidgeting with your collar.”

Bucky nodded. “I think I can do that.”

A week later, Bucky was watching you descend the stairs of the gala making him instantly regret his decision on asking you to be his date.

You looked…incredible.

To him, you outshone everyone in the room. A floor length gown that made you look like nothing less than a Greek Goddess. And that smile of yours…

He was weak at the knees. His heart was practically leaping out of his chest and his fingers itched to hold you close to him and never let you go.

Of course he knew you were beautiful. He didn’t spend practically every day with you and not notice. But that had been in a setting where he could set aside his most inner thoughts. He was your boss, technically. And you were his assistant. And also Yelena’s friend.

But in front of him at that moment…

His thoughts couldn’t be shut off. Everything seemed heightened. The setting, the idea that you were his date, that dress…

“You’re staring.”

Bucky broke out of his trace for a moment and smiled. “Sorry. Can’t help it. You look stunning.”

You felt your cheeks heat and you looked away from him to gather yourself together. You looked down at the dress. “Thanks.” You looked back at him. “Yelena helped me pick it out.”

Bucky nodded. “She’s got good taste.”

You smiled. “Ready for the wolves?”

He turned a little and held his arm out to you silently. “You might not have let me pick you up, but you’re gonna have to let me be a gentleman at some point.”

You let out a soft chuckle and took his arm. “Okay, Sergeant.”

The entire night was…something else. Something fun and…a memory you’d cherish forever.

Maybe he hated the fancy galas, but there was no denying Bucky Barnes looked good in a suit and tie. There was also no denying that he was a good dancer and you trusted him entirely. He was also nothing less than a gentleman.

You even got him to talk to a few people outside of his normal social circle. And each time you did, he just held you a little tighter, practically anchoring you to him. Not that you minded. You didn’t plan on running.

Maybe finding him a few more people to talk to just to extend the time you spent in his arms, sure. But not running.

By the time you got back, he dropped you back home.

“Thank you for coming with me tonight.”

You shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. It was fun.”

Bucky shrugged himself. “You still could have ditched it before. I wouldn’t have blamed you. But I’m glad you came.”

You looked at him and smiled. “So am I.”

Bucky waited until you turned a lamp on inside your home before he got back in his car and drove away, his mind wandering back to you each time the lights turned red.

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from-izzy · 6 months ago

Text

[17:07] | enhypen park sunghoon

Sunghoon grunts at the reminder of your true visit, yet still makes love to your collarbones to cherish every second with you. “Not yet…” he pleads that time will go slower.

pairing » enhypen park sunghoon x fem!reader

trope/au » established relationship au, (not so) secret relationship au, non-idol au

genre » fluffy fluff with slight suggestive themes (nothing like this), lovesick and cute sunghoon, boyfriend sunghoon, reader helping with sunghoon's sister's dinner dance prep!

word count; estimated reading time » 1293; ~5 mins

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » getting caught during making out by sunghoon's sister, kissing on lower abdomen/body, sunghoon lifts reader, reader implied to be smaller than sunghoon

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 enhypen masterlist

my debut to enhablr...? i see clips of sunghoon and heeseung and they make me wanna get into enha 🥹 i'm sure the fandom knows that sunghoon has a sister but i didn't use her real name for this fic; it just makes me more comfortable in this way. hope you all enjoy!!

You don't usually knock on the Park’s residence house since Sunghoon would usually open it for you as per his invite, or help you sneak in through the side window. But today is a bit different since today is Serin’s dinner dance at her school, and she asked you for help with makeup and outfits. In a heartbeat, you agreed, especially since the event has been a special one for you since the day Sunghoon asked you to be his.

Sunghoon knows about you coming over to help his sister, but knowing that your visit today isn't for him puts a frown on his face. His relationship with you is still private, which is something that you both want at the current moment. But after a year of dating, he can't wait to formally introduce his once best friend to his family who is already very fond of you.

“Thank you so much for coming!” The door opens to reveal the younger girl. “Come in!”

You chuckle at her excited nature. You know Serin has been a delightful one since a long time ago, and you're glad to be part of a wonderful event for her. A few steps into the house, you see Sunghoon by the couch, resting his chin on his arm as he pouts at you.

“Hey,” you greet him casually, sneaking in a wink behind Serin.

Sunghoon rolls his eyes away playfully, turning around to the television as he sulks and sinks into the couch.

“Oppa! Don't be rude!” Serin defends you. “But whatever, guess I'll have her to myself.”

If it was anyone other than his beloved sister saying those words, Sunghoon would cling to your side, sweep you off your feet and claim your lips with his. “Whatever,” Sunghoon dismisses her with a hand wave.

Upstairs, Serin had all her makeup and dress options ready for your second opinion. It wasn't long until you chose the one you thought suited her the best, helping her change and adjusting it to fit nicely on her body. Just as so, it didn't take long until your numerous hair and makeup suggestions were chosen by her.

“You're gonna be the prettiest girl in the room,” you blend the pink blush across her cheeks.

“Of course, I am. You're the one giving me the makeup after all,” you chuckle at her words, adding the finishing touches and setting spray onto her face. “Don't tell Sunghoon this, but I'm going with a date.”

You gasp at the information. “Really?! That's so cute! Let me see a picture!”

Serin skips over to make sure the bedroom door is locked before sitting on the edge of her bed, patting the empty space beside her for you. The younger swipes through the many pictures in her gallery, recounting the main parts of that day spent together.

You know what it feels like to be attracted to someone. To like someone, and ultimately, to be head over heels in love with someone. Looking through the pictures of her and her partner for the dance, you could tell that it wasn't puppy love or a short-lived crush. How'd you know? Her eyes sparkle with minimal lighting as they cuddle in the picture tells you everything her heart feels.

“Don't tell Sunghoon please,” a pout overtakes her face. “You know how protective he is, and I promise I will tell him soon.”

You squint your eyes in suspicion, humming in contemplation. The younger pleads once more, a pinky out hanging in the air, waiting for yours. In the end, you gave in, knowing well that you weren't going to not agree from the start. You understand where she's coming from since your brother is the same as well.

“Alright, go get the rest of your things ready!” You nudged your shoulder against hers and excused yourself from her room.

As soon as the door clicks securely shut, your fingertips on the metal knob don't even get a chance to properly let go when they're replaced with warmth instead. A hand grasps the side of your waist, pulling you next door where the meaning behind another click of this door differs greatly.

You yelp at the soft tug, a hand protecting the back of your head when your body hits the door. The room is barely lit, only the moon and the street lights shining through from the still-opened curtains beside you giving the luminance enough for you to face your blushing boyfriend.

Sunghoon sighs deeply with how he manages to finally have alone time with you successfully without getting caught. His lips finally attach to yours, drowning out the giggling and pleasurable moaning slipping out from the both of you. Your eyelids flutter shut, brushing against his skin gently as he shudders at the way your nose nudges his as you kiss him feverishly. As the situation escalates, the hood around his head falls, giving your hand access to his beautiful locks.

The grip on the side of your body tightens only slightly as your boyfriend pulls you closer to his chest that your hands rest on. Sunghoon leaves your lips, travelling to your ears to huskily whisper, “Hi baby girl,” he kisses your ear after, kissing along your jawline and neck as you gasp at him.

“H-Hoon-” you hiss at the pressure he puts on a sensitive part of your neck, messing and tugging on his hair. “Your sister is going to be ready at any time now.”

Sunghoon grunts at the reminder of your true visit, yet still makes love to your collarbones to cherish every second with you. “Not yet…” he pleads that time will go slower.

The hand behind your head joins the other side of your body, slithering down to the back of your thighs as Sunghoon kneels, continuing to trail his kisses to your clothed stomach. With a swift motion, he carries you by your thighs, standing up and walking towards his bed. He never spared a moment where his lips didn't touch your heated body. There was no time for your heart to calm its racing pace, the adrenaline of staying quiet hitting you both.

Now seated on his bed with you straddling his built thighs, you take this moment to fully open your eyes, seeing the white light shine upon his red cheeks. His palm cups the apple of your cheeks, foreheads resting as you catch your breaths.

“Can't get enough of you,” he mutters. “I just want and need you all the time…”

Sunghoon is cute when he's lovesick like this, your cheeks instantly heating more than before at his confession. You hum, “I love you, Hoon.”

“I love you much more.”

His orbs sparkle upon yours sincerely for a second until his open lips come closer to claim yours again. You're millimetres apart when the door opens unexpectedly behind you. Your body reacts first, jumping away from Sunghoon, pushing him flat onto the bed as you pull your clothes to straighten the creases of the makeout.

Serin covers her eyes even if you both are detached, the split second burning into her memory. “I knew you guys were together, but I didn't know it was getting spicy here!”

Sunghoon’s body springs up from the mattress, “You knew yet you still came in?!”

“Wait, that's what you're worried about?!” you exclaim with wide eyes at your boyfriend. “You knew all this time?!” Questioning the grinning sister at the door.

“I know I just kind of exposed you, but don't expose me!” Serin shouts as she retreats to a safer part of the house.

“What does that mean?!” The clueless brother runs out to interrogate his sibling while you're left dumbfounded at what just happened in the last few seconds.

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 enhypen masterlist

tags: @k-films @k-films @kflixnet @starlit-network @kstrucknet @haneul-and-clouds @sunlightwoo @hursheys

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mountkennedie · 6 months ago

Text

Unleashing Hell

Loki x fem!reader

HEAVILY inspired by this one fluttershy x discord clip

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: You were captured by some of Loki's enemies (why does he have so many) and when he finds out, he comes to save you. angst to fluff

Warnings: Kidnapping and all the entails with it, men being pigs, hints at r4pe (not described), violence (Loki makes the PAY), could be triggering for s/h survivors (I will label where)

A.N. I love 'em protective fafo!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Loki was already uneasy with your lack of attendance at afternoon tea. You rarely missed it, even said it was your favorite part of your day. And even when you had to cancel for whatever reason, you always alerted him beforehand. He sat there and let his cup run cold as he waited half an hour for your appearance. But once he concluded that you were not going to make it, he downed the now chilled cup and went back to his room, unfulfilled.

Then when there was a vacancy at dinner as well, he really was concerned for your well-being. He asked around if anyone had seen you, and all responses came back negative. His anxiety grew with each dissatisfying interaction. Loki was not one to worry about much, but for the much he did care about, it all concerned you.

He went to your room at a speed that would definitely be shocking to any onlooker. However now he did not care. You had not made any acknowledgement of your existence to anyone the entire day, and it was not like you. Even on days when you did not want to be disturbed, you told him in advance. But never complete silence.

He approached your door, his chest slightly heaving from the trek he had just completed. He could have just used magic, but he decided to use his time in travel to think of what he was going to tell you. Knock. No response. Knock knock. Still nothing. He sucked in a chest of air and said, loud enough to be heard on the other end of the door, "(Y/n)? Are you alright?" And once more, no response. His brows knitted as he concentrated on hearing anything on the other side of the door. But what he received only followed his current theme of the day, disappointment.

"(Y/N)?" He asked in a louder tone now. And like before he extended his focus to hear any sign of life on the other side of the door. But there was still nothing. Loki sighed and used some simple magic to unlock your door and entered slowly. His eyes scanned all around, but they did not find there desired target. He felt relief wash over him as he saw a lit candle in your bedroom. He knew you would never leave a lit candle unattended, so you must be near.

How long has this been burning?, Loki asked himself. The wax had well spilled over the holder and was now seeping in a puddle below itself. The relief he had recently acquired was now tested by oncoming suspicion. She would not have left it in this condition, He thought. His eyes looked around further, this time under the guise of skepticism. And he noticed a, now cold, glass of tea. And at your desk, there was something you were writing. The paper would not have usually paid much interest to him, however the way you left off mid word, did.

Loki blew out your candle before it could mess up any more of your table and instead used his green flame to light the room. And that was when he saw it. On your night stand there was a note.

Hello "God of Mischief"

Looking for someone?

Your beloved (Y/N) will be spending some time with my friends and I for some time

I hope you don't mind

But since I know you do

Bring us The Eternal Flame and you can get her back

And remember

Try anything foolish and you can say goodbye to her

The note had a loc of your hair attracted to it. The flame Loki already had flowing, grew into an inferno. The note went up into smoke, but not before he saw the address of the place he was supposed to go. It wasn't to far from the castle at all. The thought that someone in Asgard can have such strong disdain for him that they would do this, sat in the back of his mind. He would think of it later, once you were back in his arms.

He teleported to the doors of Odin's treasure room and got the eternal flame, though he had no actual intent of giving it away. However he needed you back, and Loki would do anything for that to happen. Once out of the room, he made sure he was not seen with the flame, and flew to the place you were being held. He was running on emotions at large, and due to that, did not think of a plan other than gutting everyone involved purely for putting you through this.

He flung the two doors open in one big wave of green. The first person he saw was a man dressed plainly. With a glare that held so much chill it made Jotunheim seem underperforming, he raised one hand to the man. His voice was heavy and daunting like an eldritch horror and he uttered the words, "Where is my bride."

When the man didn't answer fast enough for Loki's liking, in a green flicker, the man was being held by his throat. He was lifted and brought to Loki's face. His voice became low and haunting and he spoke, "where is she." The man looked into Loki's eyes with a fear that would live with for the rest of his days. However with Loki's current mood, he would live with that fear for the rest of this hour.

The man was too focused on getting air in his lungs that he did not respond to the God. And for that, Loki just placed his hand on the man's forehead and saw where you were being held in his memory. Once he got the information he needed, he sprung a blade from the palm that currently rested on the man's forehead, and ended his fear.

His body slumped to the floor and Loki continued on his hunt for you. He took a right and continued down a hallway. The man's blood on his hand was the least on his concern. Another man springs from a corner, armed with a spear. He doesn't pounce on Loki yet, but gets into position to. "Where's the flame, Laufyson." He spat the name like a slur. However what Loki was more focused on was how this man knew of his true lineage. The thought caught him off guard, and it was enough for the man to approach and strike him across the cheek. His blood coated the edge of the spear, and it broke him from his thoughts. "Or will we have to spend more time with that pretty girl you keep locked away." That line was what got Loki's emotions to front his actions again. But the problem with that was, his moves were more sloppy this way.

The man he was fighting was clearly a trained warrior. And with the help of his accomplice, that had suddenly joined in the fight as well, Loki was soon pinned to the ground. In a cocky tone the first man said, "you know, 'prince'. For you to call yourself a benevolent God, and then not want to share your prize... isn't very fair is it? She should not even be with you. And now you will not let her even be around those of better company? Makes me want to keep the flame and her, just to show her a good time." The disgusting captor and his accomplice broke out into a fit of laughter. Many had thought you and Loki's relationship was as controlling as the pigs said. But no one ever understood how free you really were with him.

The obnoxious joy the two pigs were enjoying were soon silenced when Loki rose from the ground. His hands enveloped in a blinding green glow. He said nothing at first, except lifted the men by the neck with one hand, like before. Except for a moment Loki closed his eyes, and sensed every presence in the building. Everyone except you were hunted down by his shadows and brought to where he was standing now.

TW AND VIOLENCE

It was a collection of ten men, all foul in their own ways. They met the same fate as the two men currently hanging. He gagged every man so that you not hear their torture. And with his other hand he summoned twenty daggers. One for each foot of the men. When they punctured, he began to speak and he summoned more knives. "I know that I am not one who was bound for a fruitful love." Ten knives, one for each man. They began at the feet, tracing slowly up the leg. the knives had enough pressure at the hilt to break through clothes and their skin. "And that is my burden to bear," the knives slowed to a stop at the waistline. And returned to the foot on the other leg, then mimicked their work on the other leg.

Loki was glad he gagged them. He didn't want the screams of your captors to haunt you. When the knives reached the waistline, they met both lines in the middle and began scaling up their stomachs. "However," there was a slight growl in his tone. The blade stopped at their necks. "If you, or anyone dare to harm my wife," he brought them close to his face and looked into all of their eyes. "I will always find you, and not even Valhalla could stop me from decimating you over, and over again." The blades sliced through all their throats, and their blood splattered all over Loki.

TW AND VIOLENCE END

He dropped their dripping carcasses and went to where they were holding you. Before walking in, in another wave of green, he cleaned their blood off of himself to make sure he didn't alarm you. When he opened the door, what he saw enraged him but most importantly, broke his heart.

You were tied to a chair and had a large sac over your head. You were trembling, and as his footsteps got closer, he heard your breath quicken with fear. "(Y/n)! (Y/n) it's me, it's alright." He slowly took the sac off so your eyes could adjust. What he saw broke him even more. You were gagged and your eyes were full of tears. He noticed a bit of your hair was shorter than the rest and he wish he could revive those bastards just to do even worse to them.

When you registered it was Loki you made a sound of relief and leaned as close as the ropes allowed, to him. In a second the gag and ropes dropped to the floor and you fell into Loki's arms. You just sobbed incoherently and let him hold you together as you did. Loki wrapped your legs around his waist and lifted you both up. You don't know when he did it, due to your eyes being shut, but he transported you both back to your room.

He held you in a crushing embrace, like you could be taken from him again at any moment. When you caught a bit of your bearings you said in a broken voice, "I don't want to be in here." The scene was still the exact same as when they took you. Then immediately, the pair of you were in Loki's room, still embraced. "Thanks," you replied as some left over tears still stained your face.

"Anything for you, darling." His hand rubbed your back as he softly spoke. There was darkness underlying his words, but you didn't acknowledge it, "And I mean anything." He was there as you showered, but not in the shower, he respected your need for privacy. Especially after today. And he stayed with you for the rest of the evening and even held you as you slept. As a reminder of his undying loyalty and love for you.

How these men knew of him so well he did not understand. And it plagued his mind as you rested. He did not care much for his information being known, only if it meant it could put you in danger. That would always be his first priority.

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halfbloodfics · 8 months ago

Note

Hi! Yeah, so I desperately need a Pillow Fucking Snape who's needy for his Y/N as your sub!Snape headcannon made him 🥹👏 Skipping all the pleasantries here 'cus holy moly you got me with those headcannons and since you sent me here from the comments I went straight in for the request 👀❤️

A/N: {i have been wanting to write this, a sinfully long time. he's so sub its actually tragic. this is REALLY long im so sorry, but i really wanted to make it a sweet, long buildup of how much Sev really wants this woman :') Sev is literally like a feral cat experiencing love for the first time in this lmao}

title: let me get what i want

18+ minors dni

rating/tw: explicit, smut, brief mention of suicidal thoughts in very beginning

tags: solo smut, solo snape, sub!snape, snape centric pov, masterbation, insecurity, guilt, shame, kinda angsty, snape is touch starved, female professor reader

song: please, please, please let me get what i want by the smiths

MASTERLIST

Severus was a man not known for his indulgences. Everyone knew that. He knew that.

Gratification was a luxury he could never afford.

Growing up poor, Severus learned quick that what you desire is often not what you get. He had desired a lot of things before, certainly. To say he hadn't would be nothing but a lie. In the nights in his bedroom in that dusty old house on Spinners End, cowering in the corner, he desired for the drink in his fathers hand to put him to sleep at last. In his fifth year, glaring at the smirking upside down face of James Potter and Sirius black, he desired revenge. At 21, in the doorway of Dumbledore's office, when he learned the consequences of trust, he desired his death.

He had lived his entire life chasing his desires like a dog chasing the moon, knowing it was out of reach and yet too unevolved to understand how.

And yet... He had never felt his desire so, within grasp until he had met her. Those things of the past, poisonous, intangible pleasures, dark or light, had never been even remotely in reach.

She came into his life like a meteror, completely dashing across his sky, ripping him from the endless chase he had partoke in his entire life. Leading him on a completely seperate path, one he had never thought would ever find him...

True, honest, burning, desire.

The day she started teaching at Hogwarts in the middle of the year was a day like any other. Professor Sprout having retired rather abruptly, Severus didn't even spare a single thought at who would replace her. Why would he? For what reason? The weight of returning responsibilies lay heavy on his left forearm. Harry's 4th year, the emergence of his name from that god foresaken over-glorified cup; the promise of danger, the threat of a decade old vow..

The moment she walked in and sat beside him at the Professors table was hardly memorable, aside for the absolutely obnoxious outfit she were wearing.

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye as he ate, interested only in seeing the face stupid enough to wear the brightest possible shade of yellow, in his presence, none the less.

When he found a rather young woman smiling at him, his gaze flicked away back to his plate. He had no interest. No desire, for conversation. And certainly not with someone resembling an overgrown daffodil.

It was barely the end of the first week when she had knocked on his door. Opening it and finding no one at his eye level, he glanced down.

Why on Earth, was she always wearing the horribly bright shade of yellow?

After she had given him an obscure collection of herbs, Severus thanked her with a brief nod before promptly closing the door on her face. He'd expected as much, Sprout and him had always had a decent, professional relationship. Their disciplines somewhat intertwined, Sprout had always provided him with the clippings of plants he needed, and in turn Severus had always provided her with whatever potions he could brew to help her plants. It wasn't the act that surprised him, but the way this new professor went about it.

She smiled a smile as bright as her shirt, every cursed night she knocked on his door. It was always something with this woman. A clipping, an herb, an old book. It was as if all things useful to him kept apparating in her office with a giant note saying "GIVE THIS TO THE GRUMPY GIT DOWN THE HALL."

Often times these gifts came along with unwanted and frankly unnecessary conversation. At first it was small talk, questions about his day, brief statements about yours. Often times she told him things about herself he didn't particularly care to know; such as what book she was reading, or how her vacation back home for the Holidays was.

What Severus did care for, was eye contact. It could have been the Occlumens in him, his guarded persona trying to gain some sense of dominance over the conversations where he usually felt none, an oppertunity to control.. to read.

And yet everytime he looked at her, he found her shining eyes looking right back up at him with a confidence that unnerved him. She stared him right in the eyes as he talked, not with a malice he had seen before, not with a fear he had grown accostomed to seeing and not even with an expectancy that so many demanded of him.

She looked at him like she could see right through him. As if she could see into every desire he ever had, as if his Occlumency skills were pointless against the skill of a 20 something year old Herbology Professor who hadn't even fought in the first Wizarding War.

And so reluctantly, as Severus took every gift with a nod and eventually a brief thanks, offering his own potions occasionally in return as he had so many times before despite feeling slightly unnerved.

The simple, professional relationship seemed to teeter on the edge of what was almost a-

"Friendship," She'd described it once in the doorway of his office. "It's a nice friendship we've got going on here, Severus. Thank you, for helping me, I appreciate it."

That was a word Severus hadn't clung to for quite some time.

He blinked, silent for several moments, for the first time in a long time almost uncertain of what to say. He hadn't considered her a friend, had he? Even as the months of the academic year had passed by, even as the conversation began to drift from work to hints of her personal life. Even as he found the corners of his lips occasionally twitching up in a smirk as she laughed her obnoxiously cheerful, loud laugh. Even after he began knocking on her door as she had knocked on his..

He hadn't even considered that she might have desired to be his friend. Or that he might have desired to be hers.

And in the months that passed by after that casual conversation, the one she had let slip likely without thinking twice, Severus found himself replaying the moment over and over in his head.

He found himself walking down the corridors between his lectures, expecting to see the young witch in that painfully bright yellow dress he'd somehow grown to tolerate.

He had even wiithout fully relising it himself, grown to desire it. her presence, her friendship.

And it had gone completely under that Roman nose until that one evening in March in the Great Hall for supper. Sitting beside her, Severus looked across the hall as he ate and she talked his ear off, a habit of avoiding her gaze he'd begun to pick up. It was only when she brushed her long hair off her neck and took a sip of her wine that Severus glanced at her for longer than a moment.

His heart stopped involuntarily in his chest.

Her neck, the soft, delicate flesh, was marked with a bruise of broken blood vessels. It was small, almost hidden towards the back of her neck, but that dark red mark stuck out like a thorn against the warm shade of yellow.

He didn't understand the sinking in his stomach he hadn't felt in over a decade. There was no reason for his jaw to clench as he looked back at his plate, no reason why his appetite was somehow ruined.

And all of a sudden, on a simple Tuesday in March, did Severus understand that he had grown to desire something...

"Gratification was a luxury he could not afford"

The weeks after that were nothing short of torture, for a magnitude of reasons. The dark mark on his arm burned stronger with each passing day; Karkaroff's words from the Yule Ball hung heavy in the air of his chamber, late at night when he couldn't sleep. The second task of the Triwizard tournament was a moment still echoing in his crowded mind. Who was stealing gillyweed? Why was Harry's name actually put in the goblet of fire?

And yet, out all of the absolute bullshit fighting for dominance in his crowded mind, did his thoughts always trail back to her.

Like a lovestruck idiot, he couldn't stop thinking of her. Or more so, thinking about that damned lovebite on her neck.

Why did he even care?

If Sprout had had a lovebite on her neck would he have even thought more of it other than the intial disgust?

Was this friendship? The concept was so foreign to him for so long he didn't even know. All he knew was that for the next several weeks, like a hormonal teenager, his body reacted to her presence quicker than his mind.

Every time she knocked on his door and looked up at him with those big bright eyes, he felt it. The lurch of his chest, the sinking in his gut.

He couldn't ignore it, the twitch of his jaw when he'd let his guard down and snuck glances at her neck. What was he hoping to find there anyway? More marks? Or was he hoping to find a blank canvas, the silk of her skin untouched, the possibilities of tracing his own lips down the curve of her neck-

No.

Her voice snapped him out of his tortured thoughts.

"Severus?" She spoke. "You alright?"

They were sitting in her office on a Friday night, a rather recent development in their "friendship" that Severus was unsure how he felt.

He blinked, met her gaze and then looked back at the fire, sipping his tea and putting his Occlumency shields back up, cursing himself at the fact he'd let them fall.

"Yes." He said, his voice low.

And that was when she did it, she touched him. Gently, as if he was something fragile, something delicate that could break under her soft fingertips. And Merlin, the feeling nearly made him gasp out loud. He tore his gaze from her hand placed on his left forearm and looked into her eyes for longer than he had in quite some time.

Her lips curled into a soft smile. "You know Severus.. I know these past few months have been chaotic, with the tournament, but I think you're dealing quite well."

Severus blinked. She didn't know of the darkening tattoo under her very fingertips. What did she know about what he was dealing with? What did she know about anything that he had ever dealt with? Who was she to say he was... doing well?

Why did a heat begin to grow in his lower abdomenon? Why did her touch feel heavier on that cursed mark? Why crave her to say it again?

She pulled her delicate touch away as if it was a fleeting, minute thing that had never meant to be anything more than what it was.

Friendship.

That night, Severus let the door to his chamber slam shut behind him. He detatched the cloak from his robes and hung it on the door, reaching his bedroom in a few quick strides and letting that door slam shut as well.

As soon as he was alone, truly alone, he sunk down on the bed.

He may not have been not the most emotionally intune, but he was intelligent. Severus was no fool to longing. He had, afterall, longed for his whole life. But the feeling possessing him now; the raw, burning in his chest when he looked at her, the way his chest fluttered..

It wasn't the longing he was afraid of. It was the hope.

The smile on her face as she looked at him, as if he was something as bright as she was... The gentle tone of her voice as she coaxed more and more information out of his guarded frame then he'd care to admit..

It was the hope that all these things were her desiring him.

Severus ran his hands through his hair. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he tried desperetely to ignore the restlessness inside him.

What was he doing? He was a man of control, a skilled Occlumens, able to lie straight to the face of the Dark Lord and live to tell the tale, and yet here he was, in the suffocating darkness of his lonely chamber that had never bothered him until now, feeling absolutely on fire.

Was that what it took to break him? A man of his talents reduced to a fluttering, pathetic mess at the mere, single touch of a pretty woman?

The heat in his lower abdomen was not foreign, but it was unwelcome all the less. Of course he knew sexual desire. It wasn't as if he hadn't indulged before.. Occasional, late nights where he had lost control.. Where he'd succumbed to the feeling of his right hand in his trousers. It was the shame afterwards, the disgust for himself that prevented him from making it a regular habit.

In fact, now that he thought of it... When was the last time he had allowed himself release?

Certainly it had been awhile since he felt such... Yearning. And certainly he'd never felt it to such degree before but thinking of it now, his head in his hands, Severus relised it had been years.

Years.

The pent up tension, the reemergence of past lust he thought he'd long buried, the sheer strength of it this time was enough to make him begin to pace in his room.

Breathing through gritted teeth, he paced in circles, running his hands through the strands of raven hair. This need was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Lust and hope combined was never something he'd experienced together.

Would those same lips that are always smiling at his sarcastic remarks kiss his? How would she taste? Would she kiss him softly, gently? Succumb to the power imbalences between them?

Or..

Would she kiss him hungrily? Would she take control, weaving her soft fingers through his hair and tugging? Would her lips whisper praises like the one she'd said that day?

Severus groaned, sitting back down on the bed. He'd never craved to be... taken like this. He'd had fantasies of course, things he thought of on the rare occasions he indulged in his need, all ideas of exercising the control he so often craved.

And yet now, feeling so powerless, so torn, it began to dawn on him that that's what he craved... To be freed from the guilt of his own desires. Have any sembelence of control taken so far from him he could do nothing but take it, take her.

He couldn't ignore the strain in his trousers. It had been so long...

He shifted his weight, not trusting his fraying control enough to get into proper sleepwear, he layed down on his back on top of the sheets, staring up at the ceiling and trying desperately to ignore the aching in his groin.

It'd been so.... long..

"No." He murmered, but the word came out weak.

No, he thought to himself, Absolutely not.

Severus rolled onto his side, trying desperetely just to close his eyes and beacon forth the sleep he knew wouldn't come. He knew deep down, he could just take a simple sleeping potion, it wouldn't be the first time.

But as he shifted, he felt the strain of his cock in his trousers brush against the firm matrress. Almost immediately his breath hitched. His slender fingers tightened around the messy sheets, his jaw clenched.

Every muscle in his tired body seemed to clench. It didn't help that all his mind could so was replay that moment over and over again. The weight of her hand on his forearm... The way she looked up at him so gently.. Her words... What was it she had said? He was handling it... Well?

She had praised him.

Pathetic. He thought, letting out a sharp exhale. A mere compliment she hadn't thought twice of was his undoing?

But the voice in the back of his mind, the one that had begun to threaten his control, whispered: "What if she had meant it? What if she had meant more?"

And it was this hope, this foolish hope he hadn't allowed himself to indulge in years that seemed to set him on fire.

He stared at the wall of his dark chamber. Even in the night of his room, he never felt safe from the invisible eyes of others, not even his own.

If he.. indulged... How could he look at himself in the mirror?

How could he look at her?

But the weight of her touch on his arm was a heavy burden his mind couldn't afford to ignore. Every shift of his weight on the bed sent a spark up his spine, every minute, tiny brush of the sheets against his cock made it throb.

Sleep.

Sleep would not find him. He laid completely still for what felt like an eternity, and yet the ache in his pants would not go away. It only seemed to grow stronger.

Frustrated, Severus rolled over to his stomach and immedietly let out a sharp hiss. The friction between his clothed groin and the mattress sent a bolt of pleasure up him he hadn't felt in years.

He'd forgotten what pleasure could feel like.

And for the first time in a long time, Severus acted without thinking. His hips rolled almost involuntarily against the mattress, a single, simple grinding motion that drew another ragged gasp from his lips.

Another jolt... Another roll of his hips...

Remembering the constant feeling of eyes on him, he buried his face in the pillow and stopped his movements all together.

What the fuck was he doing?

It wasn't just the burning desire, or the pleasure of friction he'd so long denied himself. It was the exhaustion. He was tired. Tired of being in control over everything in his life, day after day, year after year. Tired of fighting that clench in his gut that he felt everytime she looked up at him. Tired of refusing to be selfish.

He tore his head from the pillow, reaching both hands up to grasp the sheets around it.

"Fuck it." He whispered to himself.

He didn't fight the next wave of pleasure that crashed over him as he rolled his hips against the mattress again. The sigh that lleft his lips left so on his own accord. As if his whispered permission was enough for all reason to flee him, he began to grind his clothed erection against the firm mattress again, his movements still slow, but deliberate.

God.. It had been... So.... Long...

He began to pant, short, quick breaths coming out quickly as his movements picked up pace. The pleasure that each thrust sent through him could have been enough to pull him over the edge, but it wasn't enough for him.

He had to feel it... Just once, just this once and then he could go back to whatever sense of celibacy he had adopted over the years. Just for tonight, he had to feel it.

Severus propped himself up on one elbow and used his other hand to unbutton his trousers. His fingers hastly unzipped it, reaching into his boxers as if he unconciously feared his mind may deny himself again if he allowed it the time to.

The very second his fingers wrapped themselves around his cock he gasped. The sound was ragged, strained as he pulled himself out, pushing down his trousers and boxers the very least he could. The cold dungeon air of his bed chamber immediately contrasted against the warmth of his skin and even that simple sensation felt as though it had been amplified.

Without wasting a second, Severus tore his hand away to join his other in gripping the sheets and began to buck his bare erection against the mattress.

Another torn gasp. Another shudder. His fingers tightened their grip around the sheets, his hips rolling faster, feverishly in time with his panting.

"Fuck," He hissed, his head falling down against the pillow as he moved.

He could still feel it. Her touch on his left forearm.

And perhaps thats what drove his next action. It certainly wasn't reason, or shame, those things he had so long clung onto having abandoned him. He tossed, rolling over to his side and began to pump his cock with his left hand.

It wasn't his dominant hand, but he used it none the less. Shamelessly bucking his hips against his fist, his grip tight as he stroked himself desperately. Deep down he knew that the only thing on top that forearm in that moment was the Dark Mark, but the only thing he felt, was her hand.

He imagined her touch again. Her soft fingers on his clothed skin. Gods.. What would it feel like without any barriers whatsoever? What would it feel like to have her fingers trail up that arm, down his chest, his abdomen-

"Fuck," He grunted, louder this time as his grip on his cock tightened and his hips continued to buck against his hand, "Fuck."

With his eyes screwed shut, Severus pictured her eyes staring back up at him as she whispered more praises. What he would do to hear more of them... What he would do to coax those words from her lips, no, what he would do to make her moan them.. If he was inside her, if it was his cock, his movements, making her praise him...

His control snapped. In an instant he moved, thoughtless, completely slave to the desires he'd repressed for so long; he pushed himself up, bunching the sheets up and bringing them under his hips.

Without thinking, Severus took his cock in his right hand and lined it up with the crease of the rolled up sheets and pushed in.

"Shit!" He hissed, his head collapsing against them as he supported his weight on his left forearm. His other arm reached down to hold the sheets steady as he began to fuck them shamelessly.

The gasps that flew from his lips were sinfully loud, a string of curses and her name as he chased the release he'd denied himself for so long. He pictured her body beneath him, the possibilities of feeling so much more of her soft skin. How her walls would welcome him... Wet and warm around his cock, how those delicate hands would cling to him as she looked up at him with those bright eyes that seemed to only see good in him.

And stars, did he want to be good for her.

"You're doing so well, Severus," Her voice rang out in his mind as he screwed his eyes shut, "Feels so good..."

His breath coming in quick short gasps, his grip on the sheets tightened even further, his knuckles white. The headboard creeked against the stone wall with every thrust of his hips, but the only thing in his mind was her voice. That wretched, soft, voice..

"Severus!" She moaned in his mind. His name, on her lips. He was coaxing those moans. He was giving her that pleasure.

What would it feel like to give her more? What would it feel like to watch her face as she came around him? He'd read about sex, sure. Heard about it, in the boys dorms in school, from Lucius' wild adventures, from the Death Eaters. But what would it feel like to have her come for him? The tightening of her around him, the sound of his name on her lips as she gushed arou-

The thought was too much for him to bear. Soft, high whimpers flew from his quivering lips as he came into the sheets. The orgasm crashed over him seemingly out of nowhere fast enough that he wasn't prepared for it. His entire body shook, hips faltering and chest heaving as he thrusted sloppily into the sheets as he filled them with his cum.

Her name left his mouth like a broken prayer, chanted breathlessly, even as his thrusts slowed down and he stilled against the sheets.

Severus panted, sweat clinging to his forehead, his raven hair. For as long as he could, he lay completely still against the messy sheets, almost frightened to move and face what he had done.

When he finally did open his eyes, he pushed himself up on shaky arms to look down. The black sheets were painted white with his cum, glistening in the faint glow of the room.

Not bearing to look at it any longer, he reached for his wand and cleaned up the evidence. Tossing it to the side, he shoved his softening cock back in his trousers and collapsed on the once again clean sheets to stare at the ceiling.

Shame and guilt coursed through the back of his mind, but at the forefront of it all, was the absolute sheer exhaustion.

The prayer in his mind was only her name, the scripture only her praise. He drifted off begging, to who, he wasn't sure. But for the first time, in years, Severus slept peacefully.

well im sorry that was seven decades long. haven't yall had a pretty lady touch you once and then immediately gone feral?

no?

just me?

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